October 18, 2004

• Fall Gun Show Report

  
  

  The AGCA Gun Club gun show at the state fairgrounds in Palmer started Saturday.  I was there.  Here’s the scoop.

  
  

   Friday,I had a semi-rough night, slept fitfully and had a few nightmares, mostly relating to my fear of economic insecurity.  Woke up at four, got to thinking about backstock, remembered I needed  more leopard-skin assisted openers, got up and put a few in a box, had a glass of apple juice, went back to bed.

  
  

  My day didn’t start out so great.  I couldn’t find my belt–”Where the hell did it GO?” I demanded of my cat.  She wasn’t talking.  “What the hell did I DO with it?”  I had just seen it the previous night.  Then I remembered, I hadn’t done anything with it, just left it in the clutter where I found it again.  Got dressed okay, went to comb my hair, picked up a comb, found gravy on it.  “Rats!”  Almost threw the thing away, just set it aside, grabbed another comb.

  
  

  I spent more time and care than usual picking out jewelry and rocks to carry, since I ascribe metaphysical properties to them.  I wore my usual quartz crystal dangly in my left ear–some years ago, I made a pact with the Quartz Deva–she would protect and serve me if I honored her by always wearing quartz.  It has worked out well.  Left ear –the receptive side–I wor  a diamond stud (diamonds=power, money, success) and an aquamarine stud to help my psychic sensitivity.  I also wore a big silver ring with a lapis cabachon on my left hand for the same reason.  In additon to the usual agates I carry for protection (in my left pocket), I carreied a rough emerald and some jade, both of which relate to money, success, and/or luck.

  
  

  I had set up the night before, so all I had to do was take the sheets and stuff off my tables, put the bttle-axes in the rack, and I was good to go.  Before the show opened to the public, I made thr rounfs of other tables, spent some time at the rare coins guy.  Got a super deal on an 1893 Columbia half dollar (near mint uncirculated) and an 1858 Flying Eagle cent in good condition. (Note–the latter is rather rare, since they were only minted in 1857 and 1858, and only at the Philadelphia mint.)  The next day, I spent a lot of time picking out two wheat pennies , an old Argentine coin I got to go with my Argentine “Eva Peron” .38 special revolver (the gun was made in Spain, issued to the Buenos Aires police during the infamous Pereon regime), a weird 1940 coin from the British raj in India, and a French 5-centime coin just because I liked the looks of it.  Spent $21 for the lot–the catalog value is more than twice that, maybe three times.  I do a lot of business with the dealer and he gives me a break.  He wanted me to look at a selection of proof coins, but it turned out I didn’t have time.  This was  too bad–I don’t have any proofs, since they tend to be way expensive and uncommon.

  
  

  I usually buy a gun or two at every show.  This time I didn’t, partly because I didn’t make a lot of money, partly because there were no super-special deals (like the four-barrel derringer I got last year for $65!).  But there were a couple that caught my eye, that I might have splurged on.  The ones that got away.  I saw a Charter Arms Bulldog .357 magnum I bonded with.  I dunno why, but I never handled a Charter Arms Bulldog I didn’t like.  It was only $150, but I dithered, finally went back in the afternoon.  Hooray, someone else snapped it up, I didn’t have to make a decison.  There was also a .22 H&R semi that was tempting, until I remembered my conversation with the small-semi maven about how .22 semi’s tend to jam more than most .  Which fueled my desire for the Beretta Tomcat in .25 ACP–I have seen the same one at the last three gun shows I have been to.  It’s at a good price, but Alaska gun guys tend to be size freaks–a cheap .357 will sell way faster than an even cheaper .22.

  
  

  Both days were busy, but I didn’t make any really big sales–I had three awesome sets of three  samuri swords ( you know, tanto, katana, and I can’t quite spell the waka-sushi thing), complete with stands–took all three home.  I had a bunch of battle-axes, didn’t sell one.  Usually, I sell at least four survival knives–they go well with the camo-clad set–this time, didn’t sell any.  And I didn’t sell as many of my “specials”–three $10 knives for $20–as I like to. However, I sold more of my $20 specials–the three-blade Cyclone for instance, and the awesome Triple Threat (illegal in seven other states)–than usual.  I sold more high-end knives–Bucks and Columbia River–than usual–of course, I did have them on sale at half-price.  This was a legit deal, too–I got them on close-out specials at way under the usual wholesale price, so I was really selling them at wholesale.

  
  

  The biggest downside really caught me by surprise.  I am used to dealing with kids–my stand is a veritable kid magnet–and usually, I can just ask the kids to come back with adults when I get tired of watching over them, or have to deal with real customers.  The wild card this time was that most of the damn kids that were hanging around, chattering endlessly, waving swords around–were offical security guards!  Yeah, someone got the bright idea to ask some local high school kids in some sort of junior ROTC program to be security.  I needed security to protect me from the security.  I finally had to lay down the law to them, told them if they wanted to buy I’d be happy to give them a good deal, but that  the talk talk talk had to end, and the sword-play had to end. They weren’t little thugs or anything, just high-spirited and a tad thoughtless. They left me alone after that, unless they wanted to buy something.

  
  

  I had fun with the switchblade issue.  Someone asked if I had them–it was a young guy, not really in the market.  I got this stern look and said “You know, possession of a switchblade is a third-degree misdemeanor under Alaska state law.  Merely by asking, you have committed the crime of conspiracy, which is a felony under state AND federal law.”  He got this amazing look on his face, never seemed to realize that I never did answer his question.  And in case you are wondering, yeah, I have been known to sell the occasional switchblade, but not to someone I don’t know.

  
  

  Mid-afternoon Sunday, things got really wild.  At one point I counted 13 people clustered around my two tables.  Some people walked away before I could get to them.  I was demonstrating assisted openers, explaining my “buy two, get one free sale,” yadda yadda yadda.  An hour later, the dust cleared and I realized I had not made a single darn sale the whole hour.  Then a guy walks up, picked up the Rough Rider two-blade Muskrat that I got by mistake (I wanted the two-blade trapper), smiles, makes some remark about jack knives, plunked down a twenty and walked off.  Whole thing took less than a minute.  God, I love this business.

  
  

  At five pm, the civilians had to leave.  I kept doing business with other boothies, finally started to pack up at 5:45 pm, after making almost another hundred bucks.  The same kids who were nuisances became little angels, helped me schlep stuff out to my car, which was fairly close–I was in a cripple space.  But some of the big guys carried boxes I was able to load so much that I would have gotten hurt carrying  myself.  This was stuff that stayed in my car, when it is in flea-market  mode.  What made the whole thing so complicated was that some flats had to have the knives laid out just so, so I could just lift them out and put then on my folding tables, other flats and boxes were backstock that had to go into my cabin, and still others were backstock to stay in the car.  Whew, I’m getting tired again just thinking about it.

  
  

  But as soon as I get this done, I’m heading back to my cabin,  nuke a tasty chicken pot pie, make a salad, and kick back with a video.  Oh, and pet my cat.  She’s still pregnant.

  
  

  And life is still good.

  • 11:30 pm
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