I compare and contrast part two

Here's what happened at the second estate sale last Friday. We roll up in our hoopty to a modest looking home in a nice neighborhood. There is a sold sign on the lawn of the house and the garage door is up, tables full of small items placed around the small space. I see a lot of boxes on a pallet in the back and they are chock full of books. They don't smell, aren't damp and clearly haven't been living in the garage for a long time so that's good. It's kinda dark in the garage though, and I don't see anyone who looks like they are working the sale. The boxes turn out to have some good stuff and I'm intently focused on sorting and choosing. The more I look the more I am interested the the people who owned them. There are cool vintage booklets about curling, a popular Utica sport. Lots of literature and history. Some ephemera and old yearbooks. Foreign language novels and dictionaries. Lots of Modern Library editions with nice jackets. A few flower and plant guides. A catalog of the works of Charles Burchfield, one of my favorite artists. While I'm occupied I am vaguely aware of people wandering in looking at the small stuff and wandering out but when I get like this its hard to shake my book trance. Finally, I have sorted out what I can afford and I'm thinking about my bargaining strategy. Ok, who's in charge here?

There's another guy who has some smalls in his hand and he's looking around for someone to give his money to as well. I knock on the door in the garage into the house. Nothing. I go around to the front and knock and ring the bell. The guy's wife calls from the car. "it doesn't start until noon". It's 10:45. Huh. I guess I should have read the ad a little more carefully. The guy makes a disgusted remark and leaves. Suddenly, a though occurs to me. What if some early bird forced the garage door open, took stuff and left? Then what if the sale organizers show up and find me, a stranger standing in the open, dark garage holding a box of books? Ohhhkay. Stash the box under a table and we move quickly to the car. More cars are pulling up as we drive away. At noon, I'm back! Garage door is shut and the front door is open. The first thing I do is bee line to my box which is still there. There's no crime scene tape anywhere and no one seems agitated so I decide it's just best not to ask.

At least now I get to go through the place and it's a really nice house. Every now and then, I go though a home and I feel totally comfortable in it, like I'm in sync with the place. The family room is large and airy and I spot the built in bookcases that held the books that the sale people threw in boxes in the garage. Books are for nerds, right? Shelves are for displaying your toys. Dang, didn't you know?
The decor is a little dated, but tasteful and all the furniture is of quality and well made. Classic and pleasing. You get the sense that a family of many interests was lived here. There's no overriding scheme like Kuntry Krafts or Pwecious Bears. No pink or lavender and no horrible dolls. The weird thing is I know I took a lot of pictures, but they aren't on my phone now. There's only two. This mid century dining room table and set of chairs made me hold my breath:

You don't see the likes of this too much around here. It's like some shy forest creature. Shhhhh! Don't scare it! I pulled the chair out so that you can see the angular seat. It was priced at $950.00. That probably won't even get you a footstool at the local cardboard and particle board furniture rip off stores. I hope it went to a good home.
Here's the other photo:

Someone was in the service during wartime. I'm not good at telling what branch and this photo is terrible. The main bedroom was filled with ladies hats, shoes and clothes from the 5o's through the 60's. Almost all the awesome hats had labels from bygone Utica shops. There were several fur hoods that I enjoyed trying on. There was a great fur purse. You know the kind with the snap shut mouth and no handle? A clutch I think they are called. I KNOW I took a picture of it, but it's gone. The ladies running the sale tells me that there is not much market on ebay for vintage clothing and accessories that don't have designer labels. I think all dealers are inherently pessimistic. It comes from constantly shifting through the chaff to find the one golden kernel of wheat. If I had a nickel for every copy of Profiles in Courage....

I compare and contrast, part one

First of all, here is my haul for the weekend:

It's an interesting mixed bag of cookbooks, Modern Library editions in jackets, Utica Curling Club ephemera and some early atlases.
House number one was Friday. It was one of the really nice places on the parkway. The kind that you drive by and wonder what kind of treasures are inside. None. That is the correct answer. Just lots and lots of dolls, tchotchke and kitsch horribleness. I guess kitch has its place but this house was stuffed in every room. How does this happen to an adult?

one of the many hundreds of dolls

These people were clearly wealthy and were part of Utica's social elite. They lived in one of the best areas of the city, conspicuously on the Parkway. I don't know anything about them but the evidence of their lives that they left behind. Was there art? A wine cellar? A photography studio? A library full of bookcases? Ask this guy:

Besides the hundreds of porcelain and glass figurines, there were also a lot of vintage dollhouses and toys. Not for kids. The kind older women collect to place carefully around the house next to bouquets of fake and dried flowers. Lots of general household goods as well. There were some other dealers there and they didn't seem to happy with the prices. I overheard one guy disgustedly remarking that he wouldn't be able to make a return on the resale. He had a few things in his hands though.
The house just went on and on. It was one of those places bigger on the inside that it appears from the outside because of the furnished basement and attic. Room after room of this stuff.

Hmm, where could the books be? I know there must be some around here somewhere. Oh, here they are, thrown in a pile in the basement.

They had been there a good long time too. Most were completely ruined by mildew. Actually, I think I didn't check well enough and may have to throw away a few of the ones I salvaged.
Overall, this was a lovely home and well maintained. Owned by wealthy people with completely different values than I hold dear. They had no time for books or reading. Every room was pink or lavender or covered with lace and filled with infantile baby shaped decorations. The older I get, the less patience I have for this. What makes an adult obsessively collect this kind of thing? The world is full of so much of value and I plan to spend the rest of my life searching it out, not regressing into a second childhood.
I know for a fact that a man had lived there but there was no evidence of such. Except for the man cave in the basement. Dark wood, an ugly comfortable looking recliner, old tv and several complete sets of untouched 1980's encyclopedias dustily stored on a bookcase. It was a Brady Bunch era retreat from the saccharine froth upstairs.
I grew up in a house that valued reading and education. Dad was an academic and Mom loved to read. Both had post graduate degrees and were interested in a variety of subjects. We traveled and we kids were encouraged to stretch our minds. They bought art, took us to the opera and cooked exotic foods. We were not wealthy. I was so lucky.