We were late getting to the auction. Had hoped to get there early, in order to look the items over ahead of time, but the wife's mother called about an hour before auction time.

And her calls are never under an hour (not that that is a bad thing, except when you're trying to get to an auction).

Ken, one of the spotters for the auction, was up front by the registration table when the wife and I came in. Right at 10 o'clock.

"You're here!," he said. "Guess we can start now."

Not much of a crowd. Plenty of room to park on the street, and we managed to snag a couple of the padded seats in the front row.

Auctioneer went through his normal opening spiel, including the usual remark that if you pay by check, "please have the money in there to cover it." But this time he added one little bit.

"It's Christmas-time, and we want to stay friends."

He also mentioned their "taillight guarantee."

"All items are guaranteed until we see your tail lights pulling out of the parking lot."

First item was a mechanized Santa Claus, sitting in a chair, rubbing his sore feet. This auction included dozens of Santa Clauses, almost all in perfect condition, as well as a couple yards worth of Christmas decorations. And tubs and tubs of C-mas lights.

When a full-sized microwave came up, auctioneer made the mistake of opening the door.

"Oops, looks like dinner's still in it. Nothing a little soap and water won't fix." It was relatively new, it worked, and it went for something like $5.

Jay, the spotter with a reputation for being occassionally fumble-fingered, won a tray of stemmed glassware, which all tipped over as he carried them out front. Nothing broke, though.

"That was scary," was grandpa's only comment.

A nice wooden sewing basket was mistakenly identified as a magazine rack, an error that was quickly pointed out by the spotters.

The defensive "So I was wrong," was met with an immediate reply of "Ain't that the truth."

A box with five Barbies and a Ken doll came up, with mention that Ken had quite a tan, noting he's "been naked a while." Friend two seats over won the dolls, so I asked if he had a grand-daughter.

"Twelve," was his one-word reply.

Ever seen a full-grown man put on a six-inch sombrero, throw a hand in the air and say "!Ole"?

I have. Now.

A baseball bearing the signatures of the 1995 (or was it 1997?) Rockies baseball team was initially guaranteed as "real" signatures, but then inspected and found to have only facsimiles. Woman up front loudly remarked that guarantee "didn't even make it out the door."

Ken mistook a tapestry of an elk for a kangaroo (okay, it was folded, so he had some excuse). Auctioneer announced "No wonder he can't hunt one. Think I finally figured it out."

When the antique runner sled came up, he mentioned "When you wake up in the morning, you might need this." (No, you didn't. Only got 2-3" of the white stuff.)

They separated the box of baseball gloves into two, selling the three antique ones first. For a good price. The four newer ones went considerably cheaper, to a man behind us.

You should have seen the young boy's face beaming as he carried his four new gloves out to the vehicle.

I was curious how the auctioneer would describe the tall black Mr and Mrs Santa Claus lamp holders. But he simply mentioned that these were "a little darker than you normally see." A spotter muttered they were "from the Hood," a comment he did not wish to repeat when asked. They sold well, apparently collectable according to the wife.

I was tempted to bid on the ceramic Christmas Valley village that was up (15 separate buildings). Five went for $12 each, the remaining 10 for $42.50. I'm sure they were worth a lot more than that.

A large box was estimated to contain 100-150 C-mas ornaments, a "lifetime supply."

Wife suddenly started bidding on two boxes of miscellaneous junk, and won. Turns out there was a towel rack of a birdhouse design that is apparently popular, particularly with a co-worker. Included some games. Ended up giving the Dr. Mario gameboy cartridge and the hand-held Bass Fishing game to the two boys sitting on the floor next to me. The youngest just popped two AA batteries out of his pocket, and started playing.

A box with toiletries was described as those "smelly-type soaps."

A small "crock pot" was identified by a woman in the front row as a "rice pot." A larger one came up later, also mis-identified as a crock pot. After that, any item that came up that they could not identify was called a "rice pot", even though it wasn't a pot of any sort.

Ever been to an auction where they sold a 44-foot yacht? I have.

Although it was all of maybe 10 inches long, with 44 plastic feet sticking out.

Still in the original packaging.

Grandpa was yawning quite a bit after lunch, even when it was his turn to call. Auctioneer asked if he wanted to go take a nap. About an hour or so later, he left, presumably to do just that.

When selling what appeared to be the contents of a man's jewelry box, they also found a small plastic bag with jelly beans. Auctioneer advised these were probably ancient, and you should eat these "at your own risk."

My thoughts went to why a small bag of jelly beans was in a man's vanity. Obviously important tokens of some event, now lost forever. A wedding reception, perhaps? Theirs? Or a daughter's? Something from a USO cafe? A child's first (or last) Easter? If the man was still alive, he might claim that bag held the most important items in his estate. And here it was, dismissed as being worth a joke, and nothing more.

My thoughts were of you.

About ten boxes after they sold their "last" jar of old marbles, they came across another. Grandpa asked that they make sure there were no more before they sold this one as their "last."

"We don't want to lie to these folks any more than we have to."

Probably half the buyers there were there for the guns. Probably twenty or more "long guns" and a few hand guns. This was all that was left, besides the furniture,and we weren't buying, but we stuck around just because I learn so much about firearms from the auctioneer.

They had a 1920s Marlin .22, with a reverse mechanism. Rare. Essentially worked (and was based upon) the mechanism of the Thompson machine gun. Now there's a piece of history. Went comparatively cheap, as did they all.

Each weapon was tagged with a unique number, I assume the inventory number for their firearms license. If so, the auctioneers have sold over 13,000 guns now.

Had another rare Model 12 12-guage shotgun, from just before WW-II. Specially built for the U.S. Army Air Corps, with a special safety to use with heavy gloves. They actually packed these shotguns around in their bi-planes. Went for $180.

Was sorely tempted by a survivalist gun, a compact, folding .22 and 410 combination with ammo storage in the metal frame butt. Legally, all you could survive off with that weapon would be rabbits and varmints, but it was neat. $110 was too high for our check book (wife wants a new bed, remember).

Left after the guns, and before the furniture. We got out of there for under $30, probably a record low for us (not counting about $10 for coffee, donuts and hot dogs). Auctioneer's wife pointed out that we hadn't spent enough.

And told us to get back in there.