WHAT ELSE DO I COLLECT?

Ralph Finch recently received an email from someone who foolishly asked “what ELSE do you collect?” He replied:

What do I gather, via around the country and occasionally the world, or by way of the Internet? Wow, this will be a challenge. This isn’t going to be easy. (And some people ask, “why,” and that gets even harder.)

Some collections are expensive, and some are extensive, and some are only an item or two, and sometimes just for the heck of it. It reminds me of bitters trade card king Joe Gourd of Illinois. He once said he was a collector of Bininger bottles. I asked him how many he had, and he said he was waiting for the first one, but he still considered himself a collector. (He finally owned 12.) Joe was one of the first Metro Detroit ABC presidents and now owns thousands of bitters trade cards. (I have seven trade cards, all about ketchup.)

So, here we go, but first, I’ll list the collections that are now long past.

I started out collecting pint fruit jars, but...they’re gone. Then, GIX-10 scrolls (flasks) in a variety of colors; gone. Then, Old Sachem Bitters barrels, and Jim Hagenbuch sold them. Next were 111 Sandwich colognes; Norman Heckler sold them. Through

John Pastor, we sold a small collection of 1880s alcohol lamps (you might say we had seen the light). And shoot, 254 different glass target balls plus a ton of ball ephemera. Pastor sold them through several auctions around 2017-19.

But we still like portrait tiles, advertising items and signs, even late-1800s wooden clothespins (thanks to Dick Watson’s wife, the late Elma Watson.) And *bricks, thanks to FOHBC past president Roy Brown. (*My latest brick—as of April 2023—is an 1893 Columbian Exposition paver brick made by the Robinson Clay company of Malvern, Ohio. It weighs 12 pounds but seems heavier now that I am older...It reminds me of my first mother-inlaw’s dumplings.)

I have a small, *butt-interesting collection of maybe 48 rolls of early 50-to-100-year-old toilet paper (I’ll come clean: I really do). And salesmen’s sample toilets. (I know, people say it’s like flushing money down the drain.) And even glass fly traps, maybe 125, in a variety of colors and shapes from around the world, as well as mechanism-driven fly traps. (*Bad pun intended.)

Oh, and a few spittoons—one today is holding a pot of flowers—and a few commodes. (At the age of 83, having commodes nearby is a smart, um, move to collect. Do I really need one? At 83...it depends. And the spittoons are OK, in case I ever move to Kentucky, as I saw a cowboy movie a hundred years ago, and everyone from Kentucky spat.)

And I forgot bed pans. WAIT: While bed pans can be important if you are 83, I mean bed-warming bottles. They are almost always pottery and—occasionally—interesting...OK, and sometimes boring. My last one was purchased at the 2023 Mansfield, Ohio, show. It was a big one, and on one end was debossed “A Warm Friend,” and on the other end, “Logan Pottery Co. of Logan, Ohio,” a company in business from 1902 to 1964. We will put a bed-warming bottle in each of our guest bedrooms. (And maybe a spittoon, in case anyone from Kentucky stops by.)

And we have hair bottles and related items; there are 100 to 200 hair bottles on the shelves, but nothing major. (I should sell them or maybe pass them on to a...heir.)

We have spent a bit of money on old cash registers (two) kaching, and three slot machines—again, ka-ching. One slot machine is antique, another plastic, made in Japan, and the third is an antique penny machine.

And turtles, but that collection is very slowly growing. (We all know why the chicken crossed the road {don’t we?}, but do you know why the turtle crossed the road? It wanted to get to the Shell station.)

Actually, I collect turtles that sat on old hotel desks. You push the top and the turtle rings a bell. And I do have a large lawn sprinkler in the shape of a frog. (And, warning: There is another turtle reference below.)

And ketchups? OK, I’m not sure who could muster(d) up more 1800-to-today ketchups than I have. They are all over the house, plus ketchup trade cards, early advertising and more ephemera than Heinz had ‘57 varieties. Some of my hard-to-acquire items are 30 ketchup jugs and crocks, plus wooden shipping boxes.

Twice, my ketchups have been featured in TV documentaries in the U.S. (and another in Russia, where everything is red), and several times my ketchups have been exhibited at bottle shows. (Once I thought I had foresight, but then I accidentally squirted ketchup in my eye...since I’ve had Heinz sight.)

OK, a bit more about target balls. The total had reached about 250, even though a few balls were represented in several colors. Most were American, many were British, plus others from France, Germany, Scotland, Sweden, Australia, and Canada...is a larger collection known? Not that I’m aware of. In fact, I doubt it will ever be matched; I started early when many—OK, some— could be acquired at a reasonable price.

Their value? I’ve paid $30 for one and $30,000 for another (spending my wife’s life savings). There is little in the way of good target ball ephemera, but what exists, I had a good portion of it. My favorite item was a large, circa 1880 poster of famous ball man Ira Paine shooting a walnut off his wife’s head and target balls that she tossed up in the air.

Also, I probably had the largest collection of glass ball traps, maybe, 25, and they are much harder to find than a good ball. Also, with eBay and the Internet and traveling frequently to glass shows in Europe, I’ve had advantages that Alex Kerr—the godfather of target ball collecting and a member of the Kerr glass family—did not. And the balls, over a period of several years and about six auctions, were sold at John Pastor’s American Glass Gallery.

Did I mention our 125 glass canes? The latest is nine feet, 10 inches long...and we finally figured out where to put it.

And we have a small-but-growing collection of rare painted and non-painted demijohns. (Did I ever tell you of the time I was in Las Vegas and a good-looking woman walked up to me and said. “I’ll do anything you want for $300,” and I replied: “Paint my demijohns.”)

And almost two years ago, Janet got interested in 1800s snuff bottles and won’t turn up her nose at a rare one. (She had forgotten that since I was about 10, I have been adamantly against anything related to tobacco. Oh, well.) To me, Janet is the Snuff Queen.

And what’s the newest, hot collection? Old toasters! (Honest, they are hot!) We know several glass collectors who have old toasters, including John (and Liz) Pastor and Jim and Jodi Hall.

Now to the present: we are trying to scratch out a nice collection of etched Scottish bottles (Alloa, 1840-1900). They are unusual. In fact, odd.

Oh...I forgot to mention my collection of children’s bibs. (One day I wondered, “Why do I like bibs?” And Janet replied: “Have you seen yourself eat?” I blame it on a stroke-caused vision problem.)

And flutters. (What are they? Do your own research, but it will be a pressing issue.) I got my best flutter—mid-May 2022—as I sat in our kitchen, in my fluffy bathrobe, while bidding at an Internet live auction.

And taxidermy items that turn into...other things. (The English were big on that; we have a nice turtle, and if you lift the hinged shell, there is a small, well, an inkwell.)

And a LARGE steel 1899 child’s tricycle, and a large peddle horse toy for a child, a large wooden stork, and...

We like jardinieres; there are two problems collecting them: Spelling the word and finding room for these bloomin’ large plant holders on pedestals. And do we want more? That’s a silly question; where to put ‘em? Beats me.

Now, I have never owned a new car, but...a lot of old glass. Life is a challenge. Yet of all the fun stuff and great glass, of all the traveling, of all the great people and of all the wonderful rewards the hobby has given me, the best part is re-meeting Janet (then Loik), who in 1977 I interviewed about her collecting (which included target balls).

I knew Janet in the 1970s and ‘80s and thought she was delightful. We then went on to our separate lives. Almost 30 years later, with both of us divorced, I called to say “Hello.” We had several delightful phone conversations and, to make a long story short: Under the Whispering Dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, England, I proposed to the most remarkable woman that I have ever known. Six months later, in Las Vegas, as Elvis walked her down the aisle, we were married at the Graceland Chapel. The hobby has been wonderful to me. After re-meeting Janet, I discovered that I was the happiest and luckiest man in the world. I love her, and not only that, everyone who meets her loves her too.

Travel is a big one. It would take me a few minutes if I had to list all the countries I have visited. The big ones, of course, are Canada, France, Italy and Russia. I’ve had the good fortune of having visited England perhaps 20 times, always looking for antiques or attending the West End theaters. And a village in Wales where my grandmother was born.

And we’ve set foot on most all the countries around the Mediterranean and the Caribbean, and many of all of the counties in central America, plus Mexico, and on the other side of the globe, Australia. I found a glass dealer in Melbourne, and in the middle of nowhere, I visited the worm museum. (Honest!)

And I lived for more than two years in Japan, courtesy of my uncle (Sam). I’ve even been to an antique show in Japan, and surprisingly, it looked like a U.S. show. Also, I have a small grouping of old books on Japan.

(Talking about books, I have a small library of books on vampires...I know, that sucks.)

Another big interest is the theater. We have season subscriptions to at least four theaters, and I have enjoyed ‘The Phantom’ at least 60 times in Detroit, London, Toronto and Melbourne, Australia—even Vegas, even at a local high school’s production. I’ve seen Les Misérables more than 40 times, and hope to enjoy it a few more times.

Had I not a weakness for musical theater, my other collections would be at least twice the size they are now.