Here's something you might be interested in.
So many people like to collect, but they're horrible at it.
As a kid, my favorite thing about the Del Mar Fair was looking at the section that had collections. Whether it was matchbooks or salt and pepper shakers, it was just fun to look at.
For five years I collected pencils. They had to be unsharpened, though. I had one that smelled like Coke, and had Coca-Cola written in various languages. I had hundreds of different kinds.
For years I collected Matchbox cars. Then it was just Matchbox cars of old, pre-60s cars.
When I started playing basketball, I started collecting basketball cards.
As a teenager, I become obsessed with music memorabilia, and I still am. I also love jukeboxes and antique radios. One day, I'm going to buy an old Victorolla record player.
A mechanic that used to work on my car had one. He wouldn't sell it to me. I showed up to his house when my car was making weird noises, and saw it smashed up by his trash cans. I asked what happened. He said, "Me and the old lady got into a fight. She started breaking all my stuff."
After getting a handful of old radios and jukeboxes (a few stored in friends garages), I realized I can't be like Jay Leno. He collects cars. He has hundreds. But, he can afford a warehouse that's like an airplane hangar.
I love going into antique stores (I imagine Jon Lovitz's voice right now yelling "I am not gay!!"). I always find something I want to buy.
I had been looking around for an old typewriter. I figured it would look nice next to my old diner top jukebox.
I was at Cruisin' Grand Friday -- The car show Escondido has every Friday night. And, I went into an antique store. I was meeting up with my parents, and when I walked out with an old Royal typewriter from 1921 that I just bought, my moms jaw dropped. I thought she was going to be able to appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship of it. I remember when her great aunt died, and she got an antique Singer sewing machine with a peddle system, that she had the wood refinished, and sat in our living room for years.
I walk over to show her the primitive looking, black bulky machine. I bring the silver arm back, the bell rings.
She says, "What the hell! Don't you type all your stories on the computer now."
She was serious.
So many people like to collect, but they're horrible at it.
As a kid, my favorite thing about the Del Mar Fair was looking at the section that had collections. Whether it was matchbooks or salt and pepper shakers, it was just fun to look at.
For five years I collected pencils. They had to be unsharpened, though. I had one that smelled like Coke, and had Coca-Cola written in various languages. I had hundreds of different kinds.
For years I collected Matchbox cars. Then it was just Matchbox cars of old, pre-60s cars.
When I started playing basketball, I started collecting basketball cards.
As a teenager, I become obsessed with music memorabilia, and I still am. I also love jukeboxes and antique radios. One day, I'm going to buy an old Victorolla record player.
A mechanic that used to work on my car had one. He wouldn't sell it to me. I showed up to his house when my car was making weird noises, and saw it smashed up by his trash cans. I asked what happened. He said, "Me and the old lady got into a fight. She started breaking all my stuff."
After getting a handful of old radios and jukeboxes (a few stored in friends garages), I realized I can't be like Jay Leno. He collects cars. He has hundreds. But, he can afford a warehouse that's like an airplane hangar.
I love going into antique stores (I imagine Jon Lovitz's voice right now yelling "I am not gay!!"). I always find something I want to buy.
I had been looking around for an old typewriter. I figured it would look nice next to my old diner top jukebox.
I was at Cruisin' Grand Friday -- The car show Escondido has every Friday night. And, I went into an antique store. I was meeting up with my parents, and when I walked out with an old Royal typewriter from 1921 that I just bought, my moms jaw dropped. I thought she was going to be able to appreciate the beauty and craftsmanship of it. I remember when her great aunt died, and she got an antique Singer sewing machine with a peddle system, that she had the wood refinished, and sat in our living room for years.
I walk over to show her the primitive looking, black bulky machine. I bring the silver arm back, the bell rings.
She says, "What the hell! Don't you type all your stories on the computer now."
She was serious.