$ave Dat Money

Okay…let’s get this out of the way right at the start. If you’re a fan and/or follower of this column (and you both know who you are), you know that I always attempt to entitle the piece by using the name of a song. This month’s column is no exception, but in the interest of saving you all time of looking up what song this might be, it is a rap song by the unfortunately named Lil Dicky. Feel free to find a link for it…I’m sure it exists somewhere. Now…on to its relevance.

I know that over the years of writing, I have, more than once, mentioned a sweatshirt I bought the night of October 27, 1986, as the Trophy Wife and I were exiting Shea Stadium after the Mets won the World Series. Little did I know at the time that I wrote it just how prescient I was, as I commented about not knowing when the next Mets championship shirt might be printed. At the time of this writing, my team is presently still in contention for post-season play this year, despite their best efforts. Will I ever get that new sweatshirt? And (gasp) pay retail for it?

Circling back, the original column was about why I held onto that sweatshirt, and a few other things as well. What qualified them as “collectibles”, at least to me? Clearly, they had special meaning…again, to me…but is there any actual value to these items?

Having relocated and/or moved three times over the lasts two-and-a-half years (What? You haven’t been paying attention?), I really do have to reconsider my previous thought process which had me believing that I’m not a hoarder. That each of these moves included six very heavy boxes of LPs, and two less heavy boxes of audio cassettes…none of which have been opened since the initial move, makes other people wonder why I still have them. In the first place, I invested a lot of time, money and effort amassing that great collection of music. There’s a lot of good music waiting to be put on my shelves…I just have to get around to putting up those shelves (full disclosure: this go-round, we’re just waiting to paint the walls first).  

As to why I still have all of my baseball cards is a whole other issue. The collectible market for those is nowhere near what it used to be at its height. Whilst I appreciate that my mother never threw them away (despite my threats), why they have followed me during the last several years is anyone’s guess.  

Is this some sort of hereditary issue I have? Perhaps. I question this because, recently, I stared directly into the belly of the beast and helped my father clean out/off his desk. From there, I came away with three vintage Zippo lighters, each imprinted with a different logo of vendors with whom he used to work. Okay..so I’m helping to rid him of his pack-rat ways. How does this help me? That is, why are they now collecting dust in my home instead of his?

All of this brings to question: how does one value what is truly a collectible and what is just the result of hoarding? A disinterested party may look at my Maui Downhill t-shirt and see a potential dusting rag. Only I can see it as a reminder of great memories racing down Haleakala at dawn…two years in a row (okay…now I’m just showing off). But is it a collectible? It is to me.  

I remember from another earlier column that I’d mentioned a gentleman I’d met at a trade show in Germany. A fascinating man who collected promotional advertising pens. Please don’t make me double-check…besides, who actually fact-checks anymore…but I believe he stated to have over 700,000 pens. Why? Because he liked them and he wanted them.

A California couple turned their fascination with Pez dispensers into a museum.  According to one article I read, they had over 550 different models. Umm…that doesn’t strike me as museum-worthy. That strikes me as “storage unit” worthy, but who am I to say?  

At present, I’m drinking an iced coffee out of a Dunkin’ Donuts travel mug. Is it a collectible? Highly unlikely. It’s a promotional item that keeps my beverage cold. If I were to lose it, I would not call the insurance company. How it survived three moves is anyone’s guess.

I’ve stated this before: in order for something to be a collectible, it has to have value to someone other than yourself (thus, my LPs might not qualify). Here’s something I lifted off of the Heritage Auctions website…a couple of paragraphs from a piece entitled “The Intelligent Collector”.

“My friend, John Jay Pittman, though not a wealthy man to begin with, built a vast and famous coin collection. He accomplished that feat by studying relentlessly, then shrewdly investing a large percentage of his limited income as a middle manager for Eastman Kodak and his wife's income as a schoolteacher. In 1954, he mortgaged his house to travel to Egypt and bid on coins at the King Farouk Collection auction. John sacrificed his and his family's lifestyle over the course of many decades. He passed away in 1996, with no apparent regrets, and his long-suffering family justly received the benefit of his efforts when the collection was sold at auction for over $30 million. But why did he do it?

One fervent collector of historical documents refers to his own collecting propensity as a “genetic defect”.  Most likely, collecting is a basic human instinct; a survival advantage amplified by eons of natural selection. Those of our ancient ancestors who managed to accumulate scarce objects may have been more prone to survive long enough to bear offspring. Even today, wealth correlates to longer life expectancy - and could any form of wealth be more basic than scarce, tangible objects?”

Flashing back to what I’d written earlier in this column, about my father and the Zippo lighters now in my possession, I think the writer I just quoted at me at “genetic defect”. Nevertheless…the question remains: what makes something collectible?

Admit it: you’re just as guilty of this as I. Look around you right now…what imprinted item do you presently possess that you feel has a value…even if only to you?

What’s the expression- “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”? Chances are that, if you have a favorite pen, for example, you know what I mean.

Mike Schenker, MAS, is “all that” at Mike Schenker, Consulting, where he assists businesses entering the promotional products industry, mentors professionals, and offers association management.  He is a promotional industry veteran and member of the Specialty Advertising Association of Greater New York (SAAGNY) Hall of Fame. He can be reached at mike@mikeschenker.com.