Ebay

Ebay

   If you've never jumped onto Ebay, then you're likely working or too busy to bother or perhaps, jusr content with what you have.  After all, Ebay is somewhat like a thrift store, a site where people (and in many cases, major stores) unload excess or unwanted merchandise.  This can range from vinyl albums to clothing to major pieces of art (I used to purchase my work shoes from Ebay, primarily because Rockport quit making the style of shoe I enjoyed and several shoe stores were closing out their inventory; besides, my $110 shoes at Nordstrom's were only $19 on Ebay, and they were brand new and they were super comfortable for my 12-hour days of walking and standing...hey, the shoes cost $65 just to re-sole so it was a win-win for all concerned since I gave them to the homeless once I retired, like me, they had lots of life left in them).

   So, a quick recap of the last two postings (of which this is part three).  I talked about time passing quickly, segments swiping past as quickly as pictures on a mobile phone, this all exemplified by Scarlett Johansson's character stopping and reversing time with intense curiosity in the movie Lucy.  Then, my wife and I decided to give ourselves a pat on the back for retiring after a cumulative 75 years of work and headed to Las Vegas for a quick 36-hour escape.  We gambled a bit and ate and played and when the morning came, I went in the shower and slipped, falling from grace like a loose rock on a trail, meaningless to all but the solo rock venturing down.  But I survived, basically scratch-free but filled with a new sense of being fortunate, of not being hurt, of yes, being older but not ready for the plastic (what a horrible, if appropriate term for the human body) surgeon despite a rotten photo taken the night before (hey, at least the picture was free...revealing, yes, but free).

   And then home we came to the dogs and the cats and our own bed and yes, catching up on mail and email and at last, this saga of sorts gets to the title subject, Ebay.  So, I've used Ebay and Amazon quite a bit (as mentioned above), often for books and DVDs our library didn't carry, or things that I wanted to dash off to others, especially things found internationally or something hard to find such as a piece of Siberian amber (which I still wear, the tale from many holistic practitioners being that ancient amber helps to absorb excess radiation).  But mostly Ebay and Amazon were inexpensive ways to nab some small things.  You know, you read a great book and you want to share it with others so why not get five copies.  Cheap enough, for biding on many things on both sites begin at just a penny.  But here's what I didn't know.  Despite the normal Ebay channel being a sort of auction house in slow motion (that is, your bidding can and often does take five days or longer), Ebay also runs live auctions, auctions where you're bidding with people sitting at a phtsical site as well as people simultaneously bidding on the phone (the auction house does have to pre-approve you, however, just as at a real auction).  And there are lots of these "live" auctions going on.  You can browse the auction's listings, countdown the time, mark your items and then before you know it, it's underway.

   Quite likely, you've seen how an auction works, the "caller" or auctioneer blabbering figures so quickly that it almost seems like a foreign language, his eye catching the subtle nod of a bidding head or a quick flick of a wrist upping a bid.  Stop to think about raising your bid limit and the entire thing might be over.  But just as with the difference of watching a baseball game on the television and actually being physically there, attending a live auction is a quick lesson in having your hopes raised and dashed in an instant as bidding often escalates well beyond what you had expected (a smaller preview of this is seen during the Mecum auto auctions regularly shown on television).

   So what got me there was a quick peek at a Disney sericel, a piece of a Disney film cell meticulously reproduced in a limited edition and so stamped.  Often these can sell for anywhere from $40 to well over $100, depending on the subject and character.  Older pieces, as with many art pieces, draw a higher bid.  And out of the blue, four of these pieces appeared at this auction site with a starting bid of $10.  Plus, they were signed by the various animators (this shoots up the value to collectors for an even smaller amount of these limited pieces are actually signed).  And they were already framed, something which often costs as much as the art.  What a deal.  Maybe nobody was paying attention, maybe nobody was interested, maybe nobody was even there at the actual auction because this person's estate (which is what this seemed, an estate sale) was full of nicknacks, from a collection of toy metal trucks to a bronze Remington sculpture (the auction site does place estimated values on these items and the sculpture alone was valued at $8-10,000 with a starting bid of $10).  And smack in the middle of all of this were the Disney art pieces, all starting at $10.  I put in bids of $25 and sat back, a small smirk adding on to my newest discovery.  The auction would begin in a few minutes.

   Then it started, the items seeming to fly by as bidding began.  First up, a porcelain figurine, the "floor" figure (the first bid and placed from someone actually at the auction) was $40 (so much for the $10 opening starts), the "final warning," (a term used online but one meant to mimic the auctioneer saying, "Going once, going twice, SOLD."  The bids changed rapidly, $50, then $55, then $70.  Sold.  The entire process had taken 40 seconds.  Next item.  Of course, these people bidding were probably hoarders, or shop owners, or who knows what.  But more than likely, I thought, they were not there to bid on something as silly as a piece of a film, a simple sheet of acetate with a few images speckled on them.  Then, Lot #57, the first of my Disney pieces appeared and I anxiously waited to see if anyone would dare top my bid of $25.  The opening floor bid was $70 and only went up from there.  $140, $200...sold.  40 seconds, next piece of art.  Final warning.  Sold.  Next item.

   I was crestfallen, as surprised and as shocked as I was when lying on those bathroom tiles outside the shower in the hotel.  But it wasn't really the auction prices that got to me.  I didn't "need" any of those things since really, it was more the finding of the "bargain," which I guess others not only found but also knew much more than I did of their actual value.  No, what got to me was the speed with which those pieces went.  For here was some person's prized possessions of sorts, maybe not monetarily but likely something he or she was quite proud of having, perhaps to bury in a closet for later financial gain hoping that they would increase in value;  but maybe these were items meant to hang on a wall and appreciate, something beautiful to  bring back memories of what he or she enjoyed, a brighter time when their youth still believed in pixie dust and dreams coming true, a world filled with adventure but not war, conflict but not fighting, happy endings always and always.  A time that went by far too quickly.  And yet, in 40 seconds, each item was gone, probably below its original cost, all those years wasted, all that value and life swept away as if taken by a flood.  Not only was the person gone, but now all that he or she treasured, was also gone.  And gone in just 40 seconds.  Next item.  Next life.

   No matter what age we are, or where we are physically or mentally, it can happen.  We can cross that intersection just a hair too soon, or we can unexpectedly slip in the shower; we can also wonder where the time went, how it all just got swiped away like a photo on a mobile phone.  Where did it go, this linking force we created called time?  It's the journey, not the things, the experiences and friends and memories...the discoveries, the energy.  Author T.S. Eliot said, "We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time."  Let the auction begin.

   Final warning.