I seem to be in Blue Rodeo mode these days when it comes to blog-post titles. (See: “I stand transfixed before the streetlight” from a few days ago.) But I have to say that this slightly altered Blue Rodeo song title (it’s actually All the Things That Are Left Behind, and you can listen to it here; it’s from the band’s excellent 2009 double album The Things We Left Behind) describes perfectly my state when I left an excellent antique warehouse down in Maine earlier this month.
Yes, people, I left things behind. Good things. I showed some restraint (for a change). Do I have non-buyer’s remorse? Happily, no. Oh, okay, a little bit. But I’ll get over it.
But just let me show you the things I resisted, and that you will not, as a consequence, be seeing when you come visit Raymond and me at the Manse in Queensborough!
First, a piece of furniture that was the subject of a recent post (in which I was seeking readers’ advice). I have to say I was really torn about it:
This one comes as close as any of the items do to bringing me non-buyer’s remorse. Seems like a lot of midcentury modern for a mere $50. But Raymond informed me that there was absolutely no way we could get it into the car. I ask you, Raymond: What on earth are roof racks for, if not funky pieces of midcentury furniture?
Next, an item that was very close to that Jetsons-style end table in the warehouse and could well have come from the same domicile via the same auction sale:
You have to love early-’60s Scandinavian furniture. (Don’t you?) Norwegian Wood and all that. It was so popular and omnipresent that we didn’t really think much about it when it was current, but in the last decade or so people have started to recognize that there was some really good design going on there. But another reason, aside from good design, that I had my eye on this is that when I was a kid growing up at the Manse, we too had a Scandinavian coffee table. And I think Raymond and I should have one again! (Though the fact that the Sedgwicks’ old one is still kicking around in the family gives me hope that we might someday be able to return the original to its rightful place.) Okay, so amount saved by not buying this one: $199.
Now on to our final category, which is Partridge Family Memorabilia. I have just discovered that I once suggested The Partridge Family was worth a whole post unto itself, which, shockingly, I have not yet written. But I will, people; I will. Whether you want me to or not. For now, we’ll just say that The Partridge Family was huge among the young-adolescent set (particularly the girls, I guess) back in the early 1970s – when I was a young adolescent girl. So you can imagine what a draw the Partridge Family paper dolls (the photo is of course at the top of this post) were. And there was more:
Yes, Partridge Family bubble-gum cards. Who knew there even was (or ever had been) such a thing? But I have to tell you, $28 for each set was way too steep for me, despite my fond Partridge Family memories. Same with the $40-odd the seller wanted for the paper dolls. I wanted them, but not that much.
So all in all I came away from that antique barn about $350 wealthier than if I’d given in to all those wonderful vintage temptations. (And our car came home a little bit lighter and less crowded. And Raymond breathed a large sigh of relief.)
But since I didn’t get my Partridge Family memorabilia, I think I need some musical memories. And I think you do too. Take it away, Keith…