I’d  get the housing, transportation, education,  and  medical care that my family needs, and give the rest  away.  No one needs that much money.

   

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I haven’t written about any of the gun shows I’ve worked for a while, mainly because they were lackluster–not very lucrative,  and a paucity of the cheapie handguns I favor.  This latest one, at  Anchorage’s  Sullivan Arena , was extraordinary in several ways.  I sell mostly knives, and I sold quite few–plus a few shuriken, four swords, a  set of brass knuckles, and an AK-47 bayonet, among other things.  I grossed over $1300 for the weekend. But when I left, I had more knives in my van than I had when I arrived.  How did I manage such a feat?  Read on. 

I like this show because I can drive in the night before to set up, and the place is so big–it is used for sporting events and rock shows–I could drive in fairly close to my tables to set up.  This means driving a total of 300 miles over the weekend, but it is well worth it.  This was one of three AGCA (Alaska Gun Collectors Association, of which I am a member) shows, and I like them the best, mainly because a fellow member is a coin dealer, and I  almost always buy something from him.  This time, his bargain box had a bumper crop, and I grabbed nine coins–the marked price for the lot was $80, but he took $65, which pleased me.  Except for an 1858 flying eagle cent and a Barber dime with a New Orleans mintmark, the bunch was nothing special, but I intend to resell most of them.  I was feeling a bit of buyers remorse, though, having planned to buy an early 1800′s silver three-cent piece, one of the most bizarre-looking US coins  ever minted (in my opinion).  After I got home, though, my remorse vanished when I looked up the catalog prices–which added up to $130–exactly twice what I paid for them.  Sweet!

I always get to shows early to cruise the tables and pick up a cheap, unregistered handgun.  My eye was caught by a small  derringer-ish revolver–the tag said “Blue jacket  1871″–the price was $50. The dealer told me it was functional–took .22 short ammo–and was a seven-shooter.  I jumped on it.  (Okay, I didn’t really jump on it, that would have been destructive and dangerous– but I did char the fifty slightly as I whipped it out of my wallet.)  It is a lovel little thing with much wabi–chrome-plated, walnut bird’s-eye grip.  A later websearch told me it was manufactured in the 1880′s, and the value was $50-$100.

Satuday, the day started out with–not a bang, quite, but a skirl and a boom.  For no apparent reason, a Scottish bagpipe and drum marching band when parading around the arena, making an ungodly racket–I wasn’t the only one with fingers in my ears.  When they were finally done and I could hear to start  start doing business, it  started out brisk–I sold one of my most expensive knives within the first hour.  By the end of the day, I had grossed over $700, one of the best Saturday takes ever.  Most of it was in cash–only $65 in credit card sales.

Sunday started slow–I did $143 in the first two and a half hours.  Then, BOOM–I did $248 in the next hour.  Towards the end of the day, I sold my swords–and  then I fell into one of the best deals I have ever made.  I am one lucky puppy–the fact that I am still alive, and have only done minimal jail time, despite the many stupid, dangerous, and felonious things I have done in my life proves this.  Anyway, this other knife dealer comes up with a small (roughly six by 12 inches) plastic box full of knives, asks if  I want to buy them.  I didn’t catch all he said,and asked him to please tell me–slowly and using one-syllable words–exactly what he had to offer and what he wanted for it, since I wasn’t tracking too well by that time.  He comes back with ten more boxes full of knives and said he wanted $50 cash and one of my knives– one which I was desparate get rid of anyway, it having turned into a white elephant–for the lot–all eleven boxes!  Trying to contain my glee, I agreed and threw in another knife , which surprised the heck out of the guy.  (I enjoy being generous–it freaks people out.)

When I got home that night, I did a rough inventory–one box had seven knives, which I can sell for $20 each.  Another box contained 38 small ones–I could get $2 or $3 for them.  The other boxes which I checked had anywhere from eight to twenty-two knives in them.. I am estimating I got around 200 knives, which I will sell for between $2 and $20 each–not a bad return on my investment.

There were two spots of unpleasantness.  One, they renovated the men’s room–installed those heinous sinks with automated faucets–which ran cold water.   I got a bunch of  Cosmoline on my hands from a bayonet–ever try washing off grease with cold water and that sissy foamy hand soap?  Where is the bar of Lava when you need it?

The other thing was my neighbor.  Now arms merchants tend to be laid-back, mellow sorts–we have nothing to prove and are comfortable with ourselves.  But the trade seems to attract folks with NPD–narcissistic personality disorder–and my neighbor was a prime example, showing several of the symptoms. (That is, inappropriate disclosure of personal life details, insatiable need for attention, and  the firm belief that everything he might say would be of great interest to anyone.)  I followed the best professional advice in trying to deal with him–that is, I ignored him a much as possible.  Still, it was a helpful reminder of how I was before going through about four years of intensive therapy.

I anticipate keenly the next show–October 17-18.  Stay tuned!

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Okay, I’d  dump the laundry basket on the floor, and toss in  the jewelry box containing my coin collection, my Leicas, my guns, and the small case and cardboard  box containing my meds.

Scientists need help sorting though digital pictures of about a million galaxies.  To be more specific, they want volunteers to help classify them, estimating that if they can get 10,000 or so folks to help, the job should take about  a month.

To sign up to help–you do it all on-line–see

http://www.galaxyzoo.com

CORRECTION:
That should have been DOT.ORG