Antiques Roadshow

It’s comforting to know that there’s a place where you can buy a prosthetic leg, a stained glass window, or an ammunition container, if you need one.
And that place is the Brimfield Antique Show.

Brimfield Massachusetts is home to three thousand residents. But for one week each May, July and September, the town welcomes over 250,000 visitors and 5000 antique dealers. True antiques muscle for space with found objects, collectibles, knickknacks, clothing, tools, books and pretty much anything else you can imagine.
Let me just state for the record, I’m not an antique aficionado; I wouldn’t know a priceless antique from a worthless piece of junk. But with the advent of programs like “Antiques Roadshow”, “Pawn Stars” and “American Pickers”, my interest in secondhand treasure has piqued.

I inadvertently purchased a “collectible” in 1987, buying a sealed copy of a limited edition Stephen King novel. “I can’t wait to read it“, I enthused to the bookseller, causing him to literally look down his nose at me and reply, “You don’t buy this book to read it.” At which point I shrank to about six inches in height, paid for my “collectible” and slunk out the door. The book is still encased in plastic, buried in my attic, now worth about $250. I read the paperback instead.
I first visited Brimfield 15 years ago, with an interior designer friend. As we trolled through trash and treasure, I noticed a vendor displaying what looked like large wooden hatboxes. This was during my hatbox-collecting phase (they’re all in the attic now too). The vendor explained that these were, in fact, cheese boxes, once used to store giant wheels of cheese. While I debated about whether to buy one or two, (there were three for sale) my friend offered up this interior design nugget: “You should only group things in threes and fives.” Who knew? I bought all three and they still reside in my living room (not the attic).

I haven’t been back to Brimfield since, though a friend and I often talked about going. Bad weather cancelled an attempt last fall, but this year the week’s weather turned out sunny and cool.

My friends picked me up at 5:30 Saturday morning and we were off. As our coffee kicked in, we talked non-stop all the way to Brimfield, to the point where we completely miss our exit, necessitating an 8-mile backtrack. Riding up Rt. 20 into Brimfield, we marveled at the lack of traffic. Apparently everyone else decided to sleep in. As we drove along the main road, flanked by fields of tents, we could see someone already rolling an early morning purchase to their car, an antique claw foot bathtub. We parked our car in the middle of town and began to wander through the vendors. Some were still closed, others just opening for business, but many were ready to bargain with eager customers.

Not wanting to spend great amounts of money, a friend suggested I play “the dollar game”. She had been to Brimfield many times and always tried to find the best item for one dollar. As we walked through the stalls, my cohorts began racking up purchases: a tin wall decoration ($20); a decorative tree made from twigs ($25); and the one item my kids would have fought over: an authentic army ammunition box ($20). I debated about that one, but suggested my friend purchase it for her son instead. Not wanting to lag behind, I bought a mason jar with the words Queen Wide Mouth and an old anesthesia bottle for my 9-year-old’s bottle collection. Vintage comic books, one for each son, depleted another two dollars from my wallet, but who can resist a title like “Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos”? I bought a metal “X” for my son Xander and a two-dollar wooden shoe last. My friends found other bargains, such as a stained glass window for $50 and a wooden wall carving for $30. And my “dollar game” purchase? A magazine from 1960 entitled “Calling All Girls” which lent a peek into the decade in which I was born.

We spent the day laughing over items like the single-legged-lion-head-end-table and the abundance of scary clown art. As we headed home, our bodies tired from miles of walking, we recapped the events of the day and declared it a huge success.
But the best part of our excursion wasn’t the items packed in the trunk of our car; it was the time we spent together. Our wallets may have been a bit poorer, but we drove home rich with memories.