antiques/junk?

It's a gay stereotype, isn't it, that we all like antiques? That we comb the shops of smalltown America (and Canada) looking for exquisite pieces at bargain prices.

I must be a bad gay.

I mean, add in that I really couldn't care less about all the diva icons I'm supposed to care about as a gay man, and toss in a whole slew of other "gay" things that have as little relevance to me imaginable, and I'm not doing too well. Heck, I even read Sports Illustrated.

So how is it that I find myself a few times a year up in the UP, browsing through antique shops in small towns there?

Well, credit the Conrad and the family with this one. Conrad - I think this may be well known by now - has long collected vintage Fiestaware,
and his sister is an extremely knowledgeable estate sales manager and dealer in antiques. So I go along, and I actually enjoy the hunt for the Fiestaware (and American Modern pieces by Russel Wright - perfect for the Vancouver condo). The thrill of the chase. That's what I go for.

Once in a while, though, I just have to shake my head at some of the things in these stores. Some examples from out recent trip up to the UP, browsing in Ishpeming
and Negaunee:

Snowshoes! Of course! It's the UP - far far north. They need these for going out and shooting things, right? ;-)

Piggy banks. I'd never buy this, but it gave me a great laugh when I entered a room of the store and came face to face with it.

Ties. Antique ties? Seriously? Oh my. If there's one thing I would be very disinclined to purchase at an antique shop, it's clothing. And you know, for all that I said I'm not gay enough, I can tell that most of the ones here are not as fabulous as they should be!

Chairs. Piled up all higgledy-piggledy in a basement, or so it felt. At this point, I start thinking "junk" instead of "antique". Happily, there's always more fun discoveries in another shop.