I seriously considered not bothering to take notes at this auction. Been too many of these entries, lately.

But I haven't watched a full-grown man try to play a ukelele since Tiny Tim, and just had to tell somebody.

This auction was mainly guns and office equipment. Firearms from two collectors, adding up to almost thirty long guns, and several handguns. As well as the associated bits and pieces. And all the office furnishings from a bank in town that recently remodeled. Just a spattering of glassware and knick-knacks, but they did that first.

I was mainly interested in a lot of old Avon bottles ("vintage", they would say on ebay). But a fella with an antique store in town was there, and outbid me on every box. But I made him pay over $40 for some.

Had given up on one box and made the mistake of scratching my nose, and got called as a bid again (really). The antique dealer promptly topped my "non-bid", so it wasn't a problem. Spotter apologized, as he realized his mistake right after my finger made it to my face.

But we were both happy to make the other guy pay $5 more.

Wife was there for a tray of mugs, which included three jadeite Fire King mugs. Yes, they are collectable, but she wanted them so she could drink tea from a mug like Giles has.

Really. You people who got us addicted to Buffy the Vampire Slayer should be ashamed of yourselves.

Bill, the spotter who also has an antique shoppe quickly topped the wife's starting bid of $1. And he pretended he was spotting someone in the crowd as the two of them bounced up in $1 increments. We were sitting in the front row (softer seats), and the wife leaned forward after bidding $9 and loudly asked Bill how high he was going to go.

That did it. Shamed him into stopping. After she was declared the winner, he loudly cursed "Darn it!", in an only half joking voice.

She got her mugs.

The box of leatherwork included a full-size bull whip. Auctioneer stated it "does work." Refrained from asking how he knew. One leather item got a "I don't know what the Sam Hell that is" from the auctioneer, and his dad quickly pointed out it was a lineman's safety belt.

I knew that. Wore one of those when fixing our remote phone line up by the Medicine Wheel.

Auctioneer got his stretching exercises early, bobbing around his son-in-law on the right to see a bidder, and then twisting back to get bids from the wife of one of the spotters. She won the box of children's books (for a grandson, according to my wife).

He threw the box of 8-track tapes in with the 8-track player, commenting that it worked. And he wanted it "out of here" after listening to son-in-law's choice of music for days.

Son-in-law bought it, dirt cheap. For the Elvis tape, he said.

I bid several times on the box of Little Golden Books, expecting to resell them individually. But finally quit when the wife pointed out who I was bidding against. The wife of the spotter, up on stage doing her job of recording sales. And buying books for the grandson. Felt bad about that one.

A Southern Belle doll lamp came up, with the Belle's head on backwards. When they tried to fix it, it fell off. Little girl in the audience was vocally upset by the whole thing... "She has a broken head!"

Box of kitchen wares included a cheese slicer. "For when you want to cut cheese." grandpa said. Literally.

One bidder, the guy who owns and runs the bar where we went for Valentine's Day was so eager he bid against himself. Auctioneer's retort?

"Hang in there, John, we'll take care of ya."

An elderly couple came slowly hobbling into the auction late, each using a cane. Before he could grab his seat behind us, he was scolding his wife "what are you bidding on already?"

"I wonder if these work?" was the auctioneer's comment when the little knitted nipple warmers came up. "I was gonna ask her when she brought them in, but she'd have slit my throat." Grandpa responded that in 40 years of auctioneering, these were the first pair of those he'd ever sold.

When Frank and Bobbi won a set of pictures, grandpa delayed the auction to ask "How are you folks? Haven't seen you in a long time." Their response? "Thought you quit auctioneering."

The son mentioned his dad had his 70th birthday last weekend. And I noticed he was walking, rather than scooting around on his candy-red electric cart.

An item I don't remember went hot and furious, with John being the winner. "John woke up back there. Look at the grin on his face!" He also got a pair of children's skis with whatever he was really after.

Another glass item was down to $1 before they got any takers. And got two at the same time. Neither was willing to go to $2 to break the impasse. Grandpa explained that under these circumstances, "we break the item in two and give you each half. " One woman went to $2.

At this point, Bill leaned down and offered to buy the three green mugs from my wife's earlier winning for $1 each.

"No."

A blue glass decanter set came up. Grandpa swore that blue glass has a name. "Yeah, blue glass" was the spotter's retort.

A box included some "Precious Moments" figurines. Grandpa claimed these were "Avon Precious Moments". When his son disagreed, he was sarcastically instructed to "come to my house" and learn all about "Precious Moments" figurines. I assume he was glad his wife was not at the auction.

An ounce of melted gold (probably from fillings, they claimed) went for $47.50. Really. If it was near-pure, that's a bargain.

When the crutches came up, they asked "Where's the guy who bought the skis? He needs these."

A large ceramic lamp with an Egyptian design came up. Auctioneer claimed it was "Indian", just perfect for a house with a southwestern design. Since when did the Anasazi start adding cartouches to their work?

Included in the gunsmithing wares was an extremely rusted old 99 Savage, obviously found in the woods somewhere (the wood had rotted away). Claimed "Teddy Roosevely may have lost this gun. It's probably still loaded."

The Model 95 Winchester was so old its serial number only had five digits. Probably the 1890s. Fine condition.

The 12-guage was called a classic "chicken getter". When describing the mechanism, grandpa called the ejector an "erector." Really. Which brought a few snickers from the largely male crowd.

Grandpa needed to take a break when they got to the handguns. As his son explained the legal requirment that all buyers be at least 21 years old, grandpa pointed out a young boy as he went walking by "This guy in the yellow shirt, do not take his bids." Kid turned red.

When the High Point 9mm semi-auto with the camo-colored synthetic stock came up, auctioneer stated "If you need an assault weapon, here's your opportunity."

I was sorely tempted by the WW-II Japanese military rifle, complete with bayonet. The weapon my Dad had faced. "The reason the Japs lost the war" is how grandpa described the quality of the rifle.

When the SKS assault rifle came up, also complete with bayonet and banana clip, the connoiseurs in the audience wanted to know where is was made. "Where do you want it made?" was the first response. The inscription was in Chinese, so "if you can read Chinese, you come up here and tell us." This also tempted me, but the price went too high.

The stainless steel Remington model 700 BDL that I was interested in went cheap ($475) compared to book ($600+), but I turned to the wife and told her "I'd rather have a digital camera." So no firearms for us.

Midway through the guns, Bill came up and offered the wife $2 each for the green mugs.

"No.", with a chuckle this time.

"Three dollars."

She had to explain to him, the green mugs were the one she wanted.

The last item we were interested in? The bank's 12' x 4.5' oak trimmed conference table. Was thinking of buying it and donating it to our youth group, for when we finally (if ever) get our room built in the armory. But the guy who bought the Avon bottles also wanted it, bad (insisting they sell the table before the chairs). He got it, a $5,000 table, for $50. I should have made him pay more, but didn't.

Also got stuck with a limited edition print of a Kerry Hansen (a local artist) mule deer buck. Auctioneers claimed it was an original painting, but I had not checked it out beforehand. After having it in my hands, quickly saw it was a print. #24 of 500.

Bummer.

But an older man came up as we were paying to leave, commenting on what a good buck it was. And if his son were here, he would have wanted it.

Have him look me up and make an offer.

"Really?" He may do that.

First thing we did upon getting home?

Boiled water.

So the wife could have tea in her Giles' mug.