Knowing that we were going to spend most of Sunday working the concession stand at the county fair, the wife and I both knew we shouldn't go to Saturday's auction. Else we'd get nothing else done all weekend. I even suggested we take off for a local motel and spend the day there, but the wife wanted that Ziegfeld letter. And I wanted the scintillator, so to the auction we went.

Only moderately crowded. Probably half the folks there were just looking for one of the 20 computers from Higher Ed, or the boat and Jimmy that were up.

When starting on some of the outdoor tools, Grandpa auctioneer mentioned "Now, this stuff was all Doc H's, so we know it was hardly ever used." And it was true. Most of the tools were near-spankin' new in condition, even if decades old.

Who needs four chainsaws? Each in its own box, each with its own spare chain, oil can, etc. And who needs six big scoop shovels? Told the wife he must have bought a new one whenever one got dirty.

Doc did love his fishing, though. And drinking. Dozens of fishing rods and reels. Lots of brandy and whisky decanters.

He apparently packed a mini-bar, with three liquor bottles, that looked like a binoculars case. Pretty sneaky, Doc. One of the spotters even put them up to his eyes, to show how you could fool onlookers.

When a husband and wife team up front started both lifting their hands on one item, that same spotter started calling them as separate bids. When he realized his mistake, he tried to explain it to the auctioneer.

"It's more fun if they bid against each other, and more money for us," was the response he got.

When discussing an antique, which used to hold a small red light, Grandpa leaned down to some of the seniors occupying the front right row and whispered "Only you would laugh at a red light, though." And I don't think he was talking about traffic signals.

Wasn't much glassware in either of the estates. When the first box came up, Grandpa exclaimed "And you set it on the table, Ed?"

A final bid went to the "Kid" in a grey cap, who was quite startled to find he had bid on anything. And got the usual lecture that "If you pick your nose or scratch your butt, we're gonna make you buy something." Interesting point was that this "kid" was probably in his late twenties. Everything is relative, I guess.

Wife had pointed out to me an interesting culinary item: "Cowboy chopsticks." Basically a big, really long wooden clothespin. Would have made a good bondage item.

One crate included an unopened old K-ration kit from the Korean War, complete with P-38 and gum. They advised they couldn't guarantee the food inside, and didn't want you to come back to them if you tried to eat it. "Especially with diarrhea" was the smart remark from the front row.

Made Ed try to stifle a laugh so hard his eyes watered.

Really.

Had to delay the auction to let him compose himself.

The 20-year old exercise bike was sold with the usual spiel about only being ridden on Sundays. With comment on how good the tread still was on the tire. Grandpa sarcastically noted that "You people are all in such good shape, none of you need this."

Apparently we all agreed. Price was low. Real low.

They are having more and more problems with selling to two bidders at the same time, and this auction was no different. One item was delivered to the lap of one bidder, a fairly large man, before the spotter of a second bidder could complain.

"You go take it away from him. I'm not going to," was Grandpa's final decision.

One box of old antique tools included several old hemostats. Observation was made that with this box, you could fix anything, from your appendix to your plumbing.

One box of junk got no takers. So they added another box of junk. Still no takers. Finally a man sitting right up front bid $1. And immediately shifted his chair several inches away from the angry glare of his wife. They sold it to him, of course.

An old shoe shine box, complete with shine, brushes, etc. went for $12.50.

Three ceramic ashtrays, decorated with local brands from our state, were taken out of their box and sold separately. Apparently collectable. Started at $5, but ended at $87.50. By Bill, the spotter who also has an antiques store.

An elderly couple on the front right were apparently talking too loud in a debate on whether to bid. In mid-cadence Grandpa muttered "Shut up, Leonard," and continued calling bid amounts without breaking beat.

A small steamer trunk came up. With keys. Grandpa mentioned that this was a much better deal than the woman got with her steamer trunk two weeks ago, without the key. They're still waiting for the local locksmith to get his cataracts healed before he can pick the lock for her, to see what's (or who's) inside.

Auctioneer suddenly speaks up, "Oh, I found the keys for those last week."

A box of antique tools went for $10. At a previous auction it probably would have cleared $50. "This is a fishin' crowd, they don't like workin' tools," was Grandpa's comment.

An old fishing tackle box (as in so old, it looked like it was on the Merrimac), including a copy of the 1962 fishing regs, went for $110. Next up was a larger version of the same, which went for $340 (and no, I didn't miss a decimal point there).

Two pieces of wood connected by rope and bolts could not be identified, with Auctioneer and his Dad having different possibilities.

It was a "hound". Identified by an elderly couple (in their 80s or 90s) who buy a lot of cheap antiques to resell. They share her last name, so assume they are related to Jesse. A "hound" reportedly went on the tongue of your horse-drawn wagon. Not only did they know what it was, but they also knew that Charlie Johnson was the only one who had sold "hounds" like this one. Still not sure what it actually did.

They got it for $3.

They could only get $5 for a potato pitchfork, maddox and a pick. Knowing the buyer, Grandpa claimed he "bought it for his wife."

A handle from an old metal hand pump went for $2.50. If I had the pump to go with it, I'd have bought it and put it back on that well in the desert.

They sold a pair of old auto engine heaters. Basically oil lamps you set under the engine block before anyone figured out how to plug a car in. Reportedly responsible for burning up more cars than anything else.

A box of miscellany included a boat prop.

"What size prop?" was urgently yelled from a back corner.

Spotter held the prop high, extended his fingers along its length, and then held them besides the prop.

"That size."

Wonder if somebody else knew about the Ziegfeld letter in the old 1920s ledgers. Someone bid the wife up over $30 for the pile of dusty paper.

The elderly couple was bidding on one box that went up to $48. Grandpa leaned down to tell them "You're out!" so they could bid again.

And tried again, even louder. Getting smiles in response. A third time he shouted "You're out" and they understood, and bid. Or were too scared not to.

They got it for $49.

The wife also wanted two old antique Scotch tape tins. Exactly like ones her father kept odds and ends in. But they were in a wooden tongue and groove ammo box (probably worth over $100) along with several old drills. So naturally she didn't win, and in fact was knocked out of the running early.

After the sale, she went to the man in the back and asked if he would take $1 for the tins.

Gave 'em to her. Told to use her money to buy herself a pop.

People aren't that rich here. Just nice.

Auctioneer and his Dad got into a near-argument over one box of antique items. Auctioneer claimed they were soldering irons. Grandpa claimed they were "running irons" (the small little branding irons that were used to alter the brands of rustled livestock). Would want to know more about Grandpa's past before I decided who was right.

A look at his wife when bids were getting high got this response from Grandpa: "Don't look at her, Leonard. Be your own man."

A box of household stuff included an old metronome, in the original box. I decided to bid, even knowing Bill had gotten out his glasses to look it over. He pretended to be scanning the audience when he bid, but we knew he was bidding for himself.

He won, but I got him over $30, so he didn't get it dirt cheap. After the auction I asked him what he thought it was worth.

He knew the brand, and their clocks are only worth $80 or so.

But this is a metronome, not a clock, I pointed out.

Made no difference. Either he has no idea what a metronome is, or it is worth a whole lot more than $80, and he doesn't want me to know.

At that point, we decided not to tell him about the Ziegfeld letter.

While disecting a box of junk, they found a large collection of arrowhead and artifacts. Which were set aside, split into three trays, which were auctioned separately.

I fought hard for the first tray, and got a few nice points and tools, and a lot of chips (and one big old rock) for $30.

Man next to the wife commented "So you're the one they "mullened" on that one.

Got lots of big chips. All Native American artifacts, probably from our state. A couple broken points. Anybody want one for $4?

Do I hear $3?

How do you get "brand new antique jars"? That's what Grandpa claimed they were.

Actually gave some thought to bidding on the near-new condition cement mixer. But didn't.

Wife wanted a couple old wooden boxes. Collectible in and of themselves, but all were sold with the tools inside. Man next to wife wanted the tools, and asked how much she was willing to pay for the box.

He won, but then reneged on taking $20 for the old whiskey box from Scotland, claiming his wife would kill him if she knew he sold it. Fortunately, my wife won another, but that first was the one she really wanted.

Hope his wife hates it.

How do you get a "brand new 20-year old wood burning stove"? Come to one of these auctions, I guess. Either Doc H. took care of his stuff, or Doc H. never used his stuff.

Grandpa's comment to one of the seniors in the front row: "Did you say somethin'? Wish you would."

One box included two miniature southwestern Indian blankets. As Grandpa wondered how small those Indians were, the young spotter held them to his groin suggesting they were loincloths. And immediately got terribly red-faced when the old ladies in the front row started staring and laughing.

Had our eyes on a few of the old books, many nearly a century old. One was a beat-up First Edition of Onkel Toms Stuga.

That's Uncle Tom's Cabin, for those of your who don't read Finnish. As Doc H. apparently did. At least half the books were Finnish, including some medical texts and a Finnish to English dictionery.

They did the vehicle and boat at noon, giving us our hot dog break, and then came in for the 20 computers. All complete, save for modems and software, ranging from 166 MHz to 350 Mhz, with 1.6-7.8 MByte hard drives and cds. Almost all went for $40-75. The step-Dad of the boy from our youth group who spent so much on coins last auction redeemed himself at this one. Bought 7 computers, so everyone in the family could have one. Boy was excited as he hauled his out.

An antique freezer was described at "gawd-awful heavy" by the auctioneer who helped haul it out of the basement.

One box with a roto-rooter and faucet wrenches was advertised as "kitchen repair. And if you need those, you need these," the Auctioneer said as he threw in a pair of rubber boots.

Folks' side conversations were getting kinda loud near the end, as most of the good stuff was gone. Grandpa went "Shhh! Shhh!" to Leonard and his wife. "We're trying to sell a tree lamp here. If you can make more noise than me with this [microphone], there's something wrong."

He mentioned a watch on the block was probably worth $10,000. "But don't take my word for it."

A large crate of 30.06 ammo was sold, noting that it is almost impossible to get these tracer and armor-piercing bullets these days. In case you haven't gotten any for your house yet, I guess.

A beautiful 1950s dinnette set, with the faux-marble grey top and red plastic covered chairs, with not one hole or crack or split went for $155. They got a steal.

One of the last wooden whiskey boxes came up with an antique oil heating lamp included. Wife outbid Jesse's elderly kin for it, with it obvious they wanted the burner, not the box.

After the auction, she put the burner in a cardboard box and asked if they wanted to buy it for $3, explaining she only wanted the box. Being hard of hearing, they both turned to stare at her, wondering what was wrong with this woman.

Who would pay $7 for a cardboard box?

I had fun watching across the emptying room as she tried to explain that the burner had been in a wooden box, which they apparently never noticed.

Took her three tries. But they bought the burner for $3. I suspect they still think there is something wrong with the wife.

So, we came away with our Ziegfeld Follies letter, my scintillator, a tray of anthropomorphically modified rocks (I'm serious... anybody want one? Do I hear $2?), two boxes of 45 records (that's vinyl to you young folks) including at least four Elvis records with sleeves in good condition, an old Scottish whiskey wood box, a metal sign announcing our community as the "Gateway to Yellowstone Park" that was probably over a half century old (and wanted by someone else), a few hundred of the old Strand Theater tickets (for $1... if they ever have a fund raiser to salvage that old place, I think it would be great fun to issue these tickets at the door), and an unwanted electric blanket.

If anyone is interested, 75 years ago 378 people from our community enjoyed watching Perfect Sap, starring Harry Lyon, at our Strand Theater. Fifty-eight were in the ten-cent seats, 81 in the 15-cent, 10 in the 25-cent, and a whopping 229 paid 30 cents for their ticket. Gross was $89.05 for a film that cost the manager $25. Of course, that same week, theater goers in Denver were enjoying Fast and Furious, Painting the Dawn, The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary, and Service for Ladies.

If you care.

As we went down 3rd Street, I pointed out to the wife that it would have been much cheaper to have spent the day in a motel.

She was kind enough not to say the auction was more fun.