I have nothing much to say about the Super Bowl, I find, but I hate to let a national holiday go by without joining the hype. (I didn’t know how big a holiday it was until I saw that a local retailer had actually taken down a third of the Valentine’s Day merchandise to put out chips and dip for Super Sunday.)
In fact, I think I have complained elsewhere that we really don’t rake in the sports memorabilia the way a Chicagoan might expect. Oh, there have been a few autographs: a Bear here, a White Sock there, but the headliners usually elude us. And I have a standing order for any baseballs signed by Babe Ruth that come in, too. We sometimes get programs, even the Official Limited Edition Super Bowl Souvenir programs once in a while. (For further remarks on this, please refer to several columns where I rail about official limited editions collectibles.)
Nonetheless, in keeping with the holiday, I should note that we have had merchandise I can relate to the Super Bowl.
A lady gave us a set of Blue Danube china once, which included four salad bowls. (I thought we had this sold one July, when I saw our Chief Collectibles Curator deep in conversation with a Book Fair customer. Next day, the customer came back with all of HER Blue Danube china to add to our set.)
We were given a perfectly lovely bowl, as big as half a basketball, in a fluted pattern of a delightfully icky shade of yellow-green. Couldn’t sell it because some picky person noticed it was cracked. (So use it to display pine cones at Christmas, I said. This fell on deaf ears: so many people are just not open to new ideas.)
We have been given, over the past two years, not one, but TWO bowling pins. These actually precipitated bidding wars, because people of tone and refinement know nothing adds to one’s décor like a tastefully positioned bowling pin.
Somebody dropped off books in a bowling bag once, and let us keep the bag. Sold it to someone who said it was right up his alley. (I HAD to say it–come on, you know I had to.)
And I once had someone knock on the back door and ask for a dollar to buy a bowl of soup. I offered fifty cents for information about establishments in the neighborhood that sold a bowl of soup for a dollar, but he lost interest in the conversation.
So let no one say that we’re not right on top of things when it comes to Bowls. (By the way, how did the football game come out? I was so enrapt by the Puppy Bowl that I forgot to switch over and check.)