I'm surprised. I'm very surprised. I'm actually on the verge of being stunned. Today, I didn't have to yell at anyone in disgust during the gun show. And that's a first for me in a long time!
I don't consider myself a rude person. I try to be friendly and cordial with everyone I meet, especially if they're a customer, until they give me a reason not to be. Then, depending on the amount of stupidity or rudeness received, all bets are off. My business is there to make money, not to please the entire world. I've spent years of my life studying and researching information so that I am as close to being an expert as I can be with regards to the items I sell. And since 99% of all of the items are either from the Vietnam War era or earlier (I deal in military surplus, in case you forgot or are new to my writings), a lot of my information has to come from hands-on experience with the items, talking to veterans who owned or were issued the items, and doing a LOT of reading so that I'll know the little details. Not every helmet is the same. Not every weapon is the same. And just because you watched Band of Brothersor Saving Private Ryan doesn't make you an expert on WWII militaria! You might own the entire DVD set of every Tour of Duty season or you have every M*A*S*H and After M*A*S*H episode memorized, but that doesn't make you an expert on the Vietnam or Korean Wars!
The worst thing to do is to come up to my table (which I have spent a fair amount of money to rent so that I can sell my items) after I've traveled a long distance to be at the show (sometimes I'm lucky and the shows are actually at a center across the street from my house!) and made sure that I've brought a wide variety of items (because one of the biggest complaints at shows is that "there's nothing worth buying") and trying to inform me that the polyester-blend jacket you're holding was passed-down three generations from your relative that served in the American Revolution and because you've seen the latest documentary on History Channel that has one "just like it" that I must purchase it from you for an ungodly amount of money. Or, you bring an item to me and tell me how you watched a television show where someone had one exactly like it except for the color, size, and rust on it and that you demand that I pay the appraised amount from the show. I'll make this simple -- do either of those things, and the answer is going to be, "Not gonna happen in this lifetime, buddy!"
Another one of the top items to not do is to bring your item to my table, stand in front of me and give me a very, very long, very, very detailed "history" of the item and how you came to own it and then ask me what it's worth. It's even worse when you start your diatribe with, "Do you know what this is?" not in a manner of "Can you help me?" but with the attitude of "I'm going to teach you something." What's most irritating is when I've answered your question that I do or don't know what the item is and ask if you want to sell the item to me and you respond with a resounding "Of course not!" or "Depends on what you tell me it's worth! Why should I give you an appraisal for free? You don't get other items appraised for free. Why should I utilize the many years research and knowledge that I have to tell you something that (1) you think you already knew or (2) had no clue about and not get anything out of it? I don't work for Antiques Roadshow so my appraisals aren't free!
Also, when I give a "value" on an item, it's going to be one of three things -- (1) the current market value of the item based on others I've seen sell at retail or auction, (2) an estimated insurance value if it's something that I've already been informed is going to stay within the family (and my appraisal fee is paid), or (3) what I think it's worth to me or what I'm willing to pay because I am going to resell it and need to be able to make a profit. I'm not buying your memories or appraising your family's history -- I'm in this game to make money and just because you saw someone else told that their item is worth $30,000 doesn't mean that your's is as well! Not every World War II uniform was worn by Eisenhower or Patton and not every German pistol was carried by Goering or Hitler. And trust me on this, there are a LOT of faked items out there! Collectors and reenactors have demanded reproduction items and manufacturers have been more than happy to provide them, especially if they're Nazi items! They first started reproducing the uniforms but used actual WWII-era materials and thread which made detecting a fake almost impossible. Then they reproduced weapons with old parts found in defunct factories. The parts are "original" but the build of the weapon didn't happen until the 1980s -- so saying it's "real" is kind of hard to do. Now, there are companies that not only fake the medals (and not just the high honor ones but even the ones that EVERYONE got) but they even fake the presentation boxes the things came in from the 1940s!! It's getting so you can't trust anything as "authentic" anymore!
Oh, and when I said "real" above, that word drives me insane. People come up to me when I'm wearing my WWII-era authentic uniform and ask, "Is that real?" I tell them, "Why, yes, it is -- in the sense that it takes up time and space." That usually baffles them for a few moments until they decide to ask, "Is it really your uniform?" I reply, "Yes, it is mine because I bought and paid for it myself and am the only person who wears it." Again, I'll get some blank stares because they're not sure of what to say. What they should have asked is, "Is that an authentic WWII uniform?" or "Is that uniform original to the WWII-era?" or "Was that uniform made during WWII and possibly used by a soldier then?" Then I could answer them whether or not my uniform is "authentic," "genuine" or "vintage." "Real" is a word that has way too many meanings. And asking if it is "mine" implies that I am the person who wore the uniform during World War II and earned the medals pinned to the dress jacket and actually obtained the rank worn from the United States Government. I may be starting to look older, but I'm not THAT old yet!!
So today wasn't filled with as many questions or issues like those. It was nice to have intelligent and humorous conversations with prospective customers. And when some would ask me for my "expert" opinion or for clarification with regards to an item or type of items I've spent a lot of time researching, I was happy to oblige. True, there were a number of people who tapped on the helmets to make sure they were really made out of metal and others who tried to "inform" us that we couldn't own or sell our wares because "it's illegal to own government property" even though the items are edging 70 years old and no one in the government has been searching for them (especially since they discontinued them and threw away what was left-over ages ago).
Hopefully tomorrow will go well. And if not, at least I'm still on my painkillers from yesterday and they help mellow me out for short periods of time.
Showing posts with label History Channel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label History Channel. Show all posts
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Rednecks with money equals "American Stuffers"
And just when you think you've about seen it all on television, along comes something else that makes you wonder, "Who comes up with this stuff?"
Now, I must confess that I like a lot of different shows. I don't like soap operas (daytime or nighttime) and I certainly don't like most sitcoms. The majority of the time you'll find my television tuned to History (even though they really don't show many historical shows anymore), Discovery (absolutely love Mythbusters and Dirty Jobs), Science Channel (I really would love to own a store like Oddities and the things they find are awesome), or BBC America (Top Gear, Doctor Who -- just a small sampling of the British shows I love). If I can find something educational I'll be more than happy to watch it over any tarted-up "reality show" where every other word has to be bleeped. I used to enjoy Hell's Kitchen but you can only listen to someone be so BLEEPingly BLEEP BLEEP without it getting really old.
So last night I sat down to surf the zillion channels available on satellite in the hopes of finding something, anything, worth watching. Occasionally I'll tune-in to Animal Planet. I like their shows Dogs 101 and Cats 101 and occasionally they have a few others that might hold my interest. I'd watch some of the animal rescue shows but then I'd just get upset seeing how people mistreat their pets and be in a crappy mood for the rest of the day. And don't get me started on Animal Hoarders -- we can't even have that show on because Youngest Son gets so angry at the people and cries when he sees the animals that can't be saved.
Suddenly, a show started from which I could just not look away. It wasn't in a "that's so incredibly awesome" sort of enrapturement as a "really bad car accident" kind of not being able to look away. Their new show was starting -- American Stuffers.
Now, if you've not heard of this show yet, I'd suggest you sit down before continuing because it is certainly not like any other reality show on television. The Ross family of Romance, Arkansas, owns and runs Xtreme Taxidermy. And when I say "family" I mean ALL of them. Mrs. Ross is a school teacher, but Mr. Ross and their three sons get very hands-on with the preparation of animals to be stuffed. There are also two other employees of the shop (one that showed-up one day with a roadkill deer on the back of his moped) and a veterinary student intern named Dixie who gets incredibly grossed-out by dead animals or the idea of having to touch them. I think she needs to rethink her major!
Other than the standard taxidermy that is performed in their little shop north of Little Rock, Xtreme Taxidermy specializes in a very odd form of preservation. They taxidermy pets. And they don't just skin them and put them on mounts like you do your prized deer or moose head. The pets are freeze-dried so that they'll last forever.
I'd already heard of freeze-drying animals, especially in the scientific community where specimens could be preserved. If you had a two-headed pig or a set of conjoined lambs that didn't survive, you could have a scientific group prepare them by freeze-drying so that they could be used in the classroom to explain biological anomalies. Seeing a real, three-dimensional representation is much easier to learn from than a photo in a textbook or just trying to take someone's word for it.
But pets? Yes, there are pet cemeteries all around the United States where people pay a lot of money for their pets to be buried in elaborate caskets with ornate headstones. I have Cody, my previous service dog, buried in the back yard with a plaque over the site. The only reason we buried him is because we couldn't do what we normally do when a pet dies -- have them cremated. No one in our area does that. But in the past when a pet has finally gone to wait at the Rainbow Bridge, we've taken their body to the vet's office to have them cremated and then sprinkled their ashes in places they loved to play or just lay in the sun in the backyard. I had considered getting an urn to keep Cody's ashes if we could have had him cremated, but it just wasn't to be.
I totally understand how people are so attached to their pets. Anyone who tries to brush-away your grieving by saying, "It was just a dog/cat/hamster/rabbit/etc." has no idea how much a part of the family they become. True, I can get another dog/cat/hamster/rabbit/etc., but it's not going to be the same animal and it's still not going to fill the void the recently deceased has left. And don't get me started on those who are trying to clone dead pets....
But freeze-drying a pet? I love my pets and service dogs immensely, but I'm not so sure I'd want to have it staring at me for the rest of time. Or even if you get it done with its eyes closed, it's still going to be there and you can't hug and cuddle it like a live pet. Plus you have to dust it just like any other knick-knack in the house and heaven forbid you have company over and someone's toddler decides to play with it and snaps off a body part. Don't laugh at that -- there was an episode last night where after having a Chihuahua in their freezer for four years a family decided to have it freeze-dried along with another dog that had just recently passed away and their kid kept trying to play with them like dolls. Even Mr. Ross said it would be a miracle if they got home with them intact or if he didn't receive a phone call in the next two months because she'd snapped the head off of it.
Part of my family is from that northern-central/northeastern part of Arkansas. I grew up in the Bootheel of Missouri. We were rednecks and we knew it. When I got a job as a newspaper editor in one of the "hill-country" counties just north of "Southeast Missouri-proper," I knew I was a redneck. They were hillbillies and darned proud of it. They couldn't understand me and vice versa. It was almost a Deliverance-like experience that has shaped (and scarred) my life forever. So when I watched the show, I understood their accents (even the one shop employee whom the network thought needed subtitles to understand), and I understood that hunting wild hogs or picking up a road-kill deer wasn't something considered out of the ordinary. Seeing a young girl coming into their shop to claim her oven-dried hog skull from her first kill didn't faze me a bit. Husband, however, was laughing himself silly because nothing seemed to shock me or appear disturbing in my opinion.
And then the lady with the racoon appeared. I've had friends that have had all sorts of weird pets. And, yes, I've seen the horrible tourist-trap taxidermies that have been done like the lizards that are supposed to be a mariachi band or the snakes posed as if they're going to strike. And, yes, I've even seen the ever-famous jackalopes. But I've never known anyone to keep a racoon as a pet. Those things are mean. Really mean -- as in "eat your neighbor's small dogs or cats" mean. This lady had a 40-pound racoon that she'd raised as a pet that had, sadly, become roadkill. She wanted it mounted so she could always remember it. I guess the large photo album she brought with her wasn't enough.
When Mr. Ross went to the lady's single-wide trailer to deliver the mount, she proudly showed the places where the racoon had chewed through cabinets and left a path of destruction through the home. Of course it did! It's a wild animal! But instead of spending money to repair or replace the damages, she gets the animal stuffed. This is the part of the show where I've got issues.
I don't want to assume bad things about anyone. And I certainly have had my time (and probably will many additional times) where I couldn't really afford to have or do the things I wanted and hard choices had to be made. And when you've grown-up in that environment and in an area where it's very prevalent, you try to remember where your priorities are. Sure, an income tax refund seems like something that needs to be spent immediately -- but I'm not freeze-drying a pet with it!
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I've not been so traumatized by a pet's death that I need to have it's freeze-dried carcass taking up precious floor or shelf space and having it stare at me. I had major surgery once and Youngest Son bought me a toy owl that had huge plastic eyes that I had to turn the thing away from me at night because it looked as if it was staring into my soul. I certainly don't want that from a 40-pound-or-more animal glaring at me. And if it's eyes are closed, then what's the point of "having the pet there" where you can "interact" with it (as many of the customers said)?
I like the fact that the show is family-friendly and probably the harshest word you'll hear would be "darn." But I do have to agree with Mrs. Ross -- you bake hog skulls in my good oven and you're gonna hear about it!
Now, I must confess that I like a lot of different shows. I don't like soap operas (daytime or nighttime) and I certainly don't like most sitcoms. The majority of the time you'll find my television tuned to History (even though they really don't show many historical shows anymore), Discovery (absolutely love Mythbusters and Dirty Jobs), Science Channel (I really would love to own a store like Oddities and the things they find are awesome), or BBC America (Top Gear, Doctor Who -- just a small sampling of the British shows I love). If I can find something educational I'll be more than happy to watch it over any tarted-up "reality show" where every other word has to be bleeped. I used to enjoy Hell's Kitchen but you can only listen to someone be so BLEEPingly BLEEP BLEEP without it getting really old.
So last night I sat down to surf the zillion channels available on satellite in the hopes of finding something, anything, worth watching. Occasionally I'll tune-in to Animal Planet. I like their shows Dogs 101 and Cats 101 and occasionally they have a few others that might hold my interest. I'd watch some of the animal rescue shows but then I'd just get upset seeing how people mistreat their pets and be in a crappy mood for the rest of the day. And don't get me started on Animal Hoarders -- we can't even have that show on because Youngest Son gets so angry at the people and cries when he sees the animals that can't be saved.
Suddenly, a show started from which I could just not look away. It wasn't in a "that's so incredibly awesome" sort of enrapturement as a "really bad car accident" kind of not being able to look away. Their new show was starting -- American Stuffers.
Now, if you've not heard of this show yet, I'd suggest you sit down before continuing because it is certainly not like any other reality show on television. The Ross family of Romance, Arkansas, owns and runs Xtreme Taxidermy. And when I say "family" I mean ALL of them. Mrs. Ross is a school teacher, but Mr. Ross and their three sons get very hands-on with the preparation of animals to be stuffed. There are also two other employees of the shop (one that showed-up one day with a roadkill deer on the back of his moped) and a veterinary student intern named Dixie who gets incredibly grossed-out by dead animals or the idea of having to touch them. I think she needs to rethink her major!
Other than the standard taxidermy that is performed in their little shop north of Little Rock, Xtreme Taxidermy specializes in a very odd form of preservation. They taxidermy pets. And they don't just skin them and put them on mounts like you do your prized deer or moose head. The pets are freeze-dried so that they'll last forever.
I'd already heard of freeze-drying animals, especially in the scientific community where specimens could be preserved. If you had a two-headed pig or a set of conjoined lambs that didn't survive, you could have a scientific group prepare them by freeze-drying so that they could be used in the classroom to explain biological anomalies. Seeing a real, three-dimensional representation is much easier to learn from than a photo in a textbook or just trying to take someone's word for it.
But pets? Yes, there are pet cemeteries all around the United States where people pay a lot of money for their pets to be buried in elaborate caskets with ornate headstones. I have Cody, my previous service dog, buried in the back yard with a plaque over the site. The only reason we buried him is because we couldn't do what we normally do when a pet dies -- have them cremated. No one in our area does that. But in the past when a pet has finally gone to wait at the Rainbow Bridge, we've taken their body to the vet's office to have them cremated and then sprinkled their ashes in places they loved to play or just lay in the sun in the backyard. I had considered getting an urn to keep Cody's ashes if we could have had him cremated, but it just wasn't to be.
I totally understand how people are so attached to their pets. Anyone who tries to brush-away your grieving by saying, "It was just a dog/cat/hamster/rabbit/etc." has no idea how much a part of the family they become. True, I can get another dog/cat/hamster/rabbit/etc., but it's not going to be the same animal and it's still not going to fill the void the recently deceased has left. And don't get me started on those who are trying to clone dead pets....
But freeze-drying a pet? I love my pets and service dogs immensely, but I'm not so sure I'd want to have it staring at me for the rest of time. Or even if you get it done with its eyes closed, it's still going to be there and you can't hug and cuddle it like a live pet. Plus you have to dust it just like any other knick-knack in the house and heaven forbid you have company over and someone's toddler decides to play with it and snaps off a body part. Don't laugh at that -- there was an episode last night where after having a Chihuahua in their freezer for four years a family decided to have it freeze-dried along with another dog that had just recently passed away and their kid kept trying to play with them like dolls. Even Mr. Ross said it would be a miracle if they got home with them intact or if he didn't receive a phone call in the next two months because she'd snapped the head off of it.
Part of my family is from that northern-central/northeastern part of Arkansas. I grew up in the Bootheel of Missouri. We were rednecks and we knew it. When I got a job as a newspaper editor in one of the "hill-country" counties just north of "Southeast Missouri-proper," I knew I was a redneck. They were hillbillies and darned proud of it. They couldn't understand me and vice versa. It was almost a Deliverance-like experience that has shaped (and scarred) my life forever. So when I watched the show, I understood their accents (even the one shop employee whom the network thought needed subtitles to understand), and I understood that hunting wild hogs or picking up a road-kill deer wasn't something considered out of the ordinary. Seeing a young girl coming into their shop to claim her oven-dried hog skull from her first kill didn't faze me a bit. Husband, however, was laughing himself silly because nothing seemed to shock me or appear disturbing in my opinion.
And then the lady with the racoon appeared. I've had friends that have had all sorts of weird pets. And, yes, I've seen the horrible tourist-trap taxidermies that have been done like the lizards that are supposed to be a mariachi band or the snakes posed as if they're going to strike. And, yes, I've even seen the ever-famous jackalopes. But I've never known anyone to keep a racoon as a pet. Those things are mean. Really mean -- as in "eat your neighbor's small dogs or cats" mean. This lady had a 40-pound racoon that she'd raised as a pet that had, sadly, become roadkill. She wanted it mounted so she could always remember it. I guess the large photo album she brought with her wasn't enough.
When Mr. Ross went to the lady's single-wide trailer to deliver the mount, she proudly showed the places where the racoon had chewed through cabinets and left a path of destruction through the home. Of course it did! It's a wild animal! But instead of spending money to repair or replace the damages, she gets the animal stuffed. This is the part of the show where I've got issues.
I don't want to assume bad things about anyone. And I certainly have had my time (and probably will many additional times) where I couldn't really afford to have or do the things I wanted and hard choices had to be made. And when you've grown-up in that environment and in an area where it's very prevalent, you try to remember where your priorities are. Sure, an income tax refund seems like something that needs to be spent immediately -- but I'm not freeze-drying a pet with it!
Maybe it's just me. Maybe I've not been so traumatized by a pet's death that I need to have it's freeze-dried carcass taking up precious floor or shelf space and having it stare at me. I had major surgery once and Youngest Son bought me a toy owl that had huge plastic eyes that I had to turn the thing away from me at night because it looked as if it was staring into my soul. I certainly don't want that from a 40-pound-or-more animal glaring at me. And if it's eyes are closed, then what's the point of "having the pet there" where you can "interact" with it (as many of the customers said)?
I like the fact that the show is family-friendly and probably the harshest word you'll hear would be "darn." But I do have to agree with Mrs. Ross -- you bake hog skulls in my good oven and you're gonna hear about it!
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