I've been to a bunch of shows this summer, and I didn't see much new. Thank goodness!
Call me a dinosaur (shoot, all the teenagers I know do … I assume it's a term of endearment!). I love the way you can go to a show and leave the modern world behind. I like old stuff. I like the imperfect surface of rusty cast iron, the sandblasted feel of sun-bleached wood. Equipment in original condition fascinates me; ancient casting numbers and names speak to me in solemn tones. I like nothing better than to see faint ghosts of original paint on old equipment, manufacturers' names just clear enough to be discerned.
I know, of course, that to a serious collector, condition matters. Many who've amassed very fine collections counsel the novice to focus on the best quality he or she can possibly afford. Pick up duplicates; spin off those that are inferior. Pay top dollar for quality. Those are the rules.
There's no denying that an immaculately restored tractor, a flawless porcelain sign, a piece of ephemera in mint condition or a vintage toy new in the box have great appeal. Who among us isn't drawn to the shine of perfection? Increasingly, though, I find myself gravitating to the porcelain sign that's been used for a bit of target practice. The stationary engine with a dull coat of color beneath a film of oil beckons, as do jumbles of rusty iron at a swap meet.
Each relic has a story. Many of those stories are mundane, ordinary tales; nearly all remain mysteries. But it's easy to imagine; easy to wander back to a time when a family's life savings went into the purchase of that first tractor … to picture the farm wife who cherished a brightly-colored wall calendar her husband brought home from the dealership … to marvel at the sheer power of a steam engine, and the labor it performed.
Lest I sound too noble, too nostalgic, let me go on the record here: When it comes to collectibles, my budget does not allow perfection. But I'd like to think I've made a conscious choice. If tomorrow I won the lottery, chances are good that my tastes would stay about the same. What's new? For me, not much. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
PS: Don't forget to send us your show photos for publication in the February issue of Farm Collector! Your deadline is Nov. 1. For details, see page 2 in the October issue.
Leslie McManus, Editor