The Ever Present Realities of Work

 

Photos by Suzanne Currie

THREE VOYEURS EXHAUSTED BY THE REALITIES OF WORK, THE CONSEQUENCES OF NO UPWARD MOBILITY, AND THE WOES OF BEING BROKE ON THE CUSP OF A NEW YEAR

A PREAMBLE TO TODAY’S POST

BY TED CURRIE

     I dare to hope that you might have heard of the names, Brant Scott and John Black. They were my mates and work colleagues in my own heyday of newspaper editing. Both John and Brant passed away some years ago now, but they will never be forgotten by the third of the trio; of work weary newspaper staffers, who on the brink of a New Year, (green by the way) were only too eager to take a long and thoughtful ride around the district they represented so well, in both written copy and photographs for the mother ship, Muskoka Publications.

     Brant Scott was an exceptional writer in the style of Toronto Sun columnist Paul Rimstead, and I had first begun reading his own columns, when he was a high school stringer, penning a weekly piece known back in the early 1970’s as a “Wee Biscuit.” It was a column that was supposed to be about school happenings, but Brant never colored inside the lines, and frankly, that’s what I loved about the guy. Most of the time, until he got me into trouble with the publisher. Which was always worth enduring because his opinions were usually bang-on and I had little choice but to back him through what ever conflict needed resolution, as far as his opinions went. He was a brilliant wordsmith, and he taught me a lot about writing, even though I had the editorial chair at that point. I asked him to tutor me, and he was a fine teacher, and abundantly patient. He gave our publication depth and solid coverage when it came to the big stories of the week. John Black was clearly the best news photographer and print technician in the region, and the kind of work he did as a news hound was exceptional every week, and he made us look good on a very low budget. He could fix just about anything, and he always had my back, so to speak, whenever I ran into conflict with management at the newspaper. I wouldn’t have had a prayer of keeping my editorial job without the assistance these two highly qualified mates offered above and beyond the meagre wages they received. We all wanted better for the paper, and for ourselves, but we lived pay cheque to pay cheque and there wasn’t much room for anything else, other than the occasional pint at the local pub, to come down from the high of another edition being, as we used to say, in the business, “put to bed.” And yes, thanks Val, Chris, Ida, and Norman for doing the rough work on the flats so that we could go home before midnight on Tuesday nights.

     My point is, that there was a time when all three of us news staffers were completely disillusioned by the work and the pay, and all the ridiculous stress we faced every week toeing the line with advertisers and assorted others with a vested interest in our company, and looking ahead to what didn’t appear on the horizon, even with wishful thinking. We took off in John’s car on a sunny and very green day between Christmas and New Years, and just drove around the region, stopping occasionally for food and beverage; and to refill John’s Volkswagen I believe it was back then. We felt as if we were jamming a week’s vacation and all its liberalities into an afternoon junket around the lakes; and damn it, that’s just what we did. We laughed and shared war stories of our under known misadventures in news gathering, and studied the magnificent and exposed December landscape in this most beautiful region of Ontario. You see, we weren’t on the way to report and photograph on a fatal car accident, or a hazardous waste disaster, or to cover a political publicity event, or even a fiftieth wedding anniversary as we were often force to attend, and it was real nice to just cruise and approve of what we witnessed; as three amigos can do, when freed from the entrapments of a profession that has its limits in small town publishing. We were invigorated and feeling alive beyond what we could have experienced, I think, any other way at that time. It was all very poetic and exciting but we didn’t over analyze why it was so nice to escape the pressures of the day, to just explore for the very sake of discovery. No story had to be written, no observations written down, for posterity, and no photographs really needed to be taken. But John did anyway, and they were great.

     In the heart of Milford Bay country, passing through some amazingly tranquil farm acreage, and along winding and hilly roads, we came upon a most engaging Canadian scene. We came over a rise of land, and looking down into the valley of a pasture, toward a farmstead and barn, we noticed a game of pond hockey in progress. There was a nicely cleaned off pad of ice, circular instead of rectangular, with a game of shinny in progress, and figure skaters off to the side, in the most stunningly bright sunlight, playing off the green hills and shadowed valley, and how picturesque the farm buildings appeared to the eager voyeurs, who had stepped out of the parked car and moved closer to the edge of the hillside giving us a panorama of all the land under the sky at that particular geographic location. We stood there for a long time watching out over the proceedings, that were so reflective of Canadian values, and stereotypical national recreation in such a nostalgic, pastoral location, that we came upon by accident. We must have been standing there for ten or fifteen minutes, when John finally started to snap some photographs, mostly, I think to record our moment in this actuality which had become history by time we climbed back into the car, to head further into the hinterland that sun-filled afternoon.

     At the time, all three of us were unhitched. Yup, not a girlfriend, or even hope of a partner any time soon, because frankly, at that point in our careers, there simply wasn’t time to invest in a relationship. It would come to us eventually, aa would respective families; and we would become so much more serious and adult about our expectations and responsibilities. Brant continued writing and working on Parliament Hill in Ottawa, John became a Fire Chief in Ontario, and I became a part time writer, historian and antique dealer. We did advance ourselves respectively and improved our economies. Maybe the catalyst was that day way back when, and the privilege of a green Christmas and New Year, a tank of fuel, and wide open spaces afforded the voyeurs by this most bountiful region of the province. I miss these lads, always,

HOW DID ANTIQUE DEALERS SURVIVE ECONOMIC DOWNTURNS - WAY BACK THEN; AND WHAT ABOUT TODAY?

CAN IT BE SAID THAT ANTIQUE BUSINESSES ARE RECESSION-PROOF?

     If you're not an antique dealer, you probably won't give a hoot about today's blog; unless of course, you're an antique hunter and frequent antique shopper, and wouldn't mind having an inside glimpse into the inner workings of the profession. Well, I can't give away too many secrets, but facing facts, we all have deep concerns about the state of the economy, no matter what era that happened to represent. I have included a rare insight in today's blog, from British antique dealer, Reginald Way, from his 1957 biography, about the conditions his profession had to deal with, during the onset, and continuation of the Great Depression. A large, large number of contemporary antique dealers could benefit from this snipit of biography, that could serve as a wake-up-call about running large deficits, in a business where all the buying is discretionary; and in our case, quite seasonal. Our profession is persnickety at the best of times, its success at the whim of a fickle audience of collectors and home decorators, so having an unanticipated economic downturn, is definitely the kind of trial by fire we, as rule, try to avoid by a country auction mile. It has a lot to do with our appreciation of history, generally, and all its trials and tribulations, which by immersion, we have learned from, without the aid of a textbook. We appreciate the ups and downs of our industry, because it happens regularly, when one vogue collectable is replaced by another, and we are stuck with the leftovers. One year it's Depression Glass, then Pressed Glass, then Jadite, back to historic, primitive glass, and then off to something else we have to hustle up quickly to satisfy the wants of our customers. It is an always changing marketplace, and many an antique dealer has blown the shop budget, by purchasing too much of one type of antique, and not enough of another; and that's a big loss of income, and a lot of unwanted articles to either pack away or sell off at a loss. Point is, I think veteran dealers are pretty savvy, when it comes to recognizing economic problems in general retail. I'm not sure if the present volatility in the resources market, is going to cause us grievous harm, (except our joy, at the gas pumps, which feels pretty good right now), but it's better, methinks, to be careful out there, than get caught without solid cash reserves. Suzanne and I did this in the late 1980's and right through to the mid 1990's, and I'll tell you, it was a period of prolonged fear I never want to revisit. Our business survived and always paid its bills, but not much more for six long years, of being in the middle of a powerful recession, where many citizens lost their jobs, their homes, and in some cases, their families. Yes, I did know how lucky we were, and it's why I issue this warning, to pay attention to the financial news, to stay on top of the latest trends, good or adverse, that might, down the road, affect the quality of your business.

     Antique and collectable dealers are pretty shrewd when it comes to clear recognition, of the first tell-tale buzz that an economic calamity, might soon be blowing into the territory. Quite a large percentage of dealers, use online sales as an outrigger, to balance what may or may not be happening in their shops, or mall booths. In the early part of this new century, we were active daily on ebay, where we sold thousands of antique and collectable items, from paintings to rare books, historic documents, and heritage glass. We found that it wasn't necessary to have a storefront, when we could operate such an efficient business from home base. There are dealers who have mall booths, and sometimes outlets in a number of other mall sites, and then do ebay or Kijiji to sell items best suited to an expanded marketplace. You can often see antique dealers, tucked into their shops, during business hours, with their computer screen tuned into these online sites; for purposes of buying and selling. A business within a business. It makes financial sense, and if you happen to be in a seasonal economy, these online sites are perfect for the business slowdown during the winter. Social media? It's huge. We are just establishing our business facebook page this month, and my blog will soon be part and parcel, along with better profiles of what has just arrived in the shop; we will be calling it "Birch Hollow Antiques," named after our first business, which we initiated shortly after Suzanne and I were married. We've made changes in our business profile, in carefully scheduled stages, and now it's time to venture into social media. Suzanne and son Robert will be managing the site, and it should be up and running later this month. We also intend to make a return to ebay in the near future, because we have a large volume of heritage paper to offer for sale, that doesn't really sell efficiently in a retail setting. Point is, that from the old days, of sitting in an antique shop, waiting for the big wave of buyers, to fund that night's dinner, now we have the tools to go international by the stroke of a key; and meet customers we haven't met previously. Keep in mind, we're baby boomers, and are slow to react sometimes, to new realities set to help us. We're a suspicious lot, but once we find something we like, we refuse to settle for less ever after.

     There shouldn't be a single retailer, anywhere in Canada, (including antique dealers), who isn't genuinely concerned about the present state of the sliding-down economy. Despite what the Federal Government might suggest to the contrary, the slump in oil prices, if it continues, will quickly spread its economic impact well beyond Alberta, and there's considerable evidence this is happening quite rapidly. Just not as visible as seeing shops boarded up, and noticing long lines for those seeking unemployment insurance. I don't believe there has been a run on a bank, as of yet, or anything that would suggest we're in danger of an old fashioned Depression. As for the present mess we find ourselves in, this is what happens when a country depends so heavily on its natural resources as the main source of revenue. What did our mothers tell us, way back when, about putting all our eggs in one basket; meaning, if you have a mishap, and drop the basket, you're screwed. Elementary stuff. Like "Target" should have considered, before opening so many of its stores all at once; and of course, failing to fully understand the peculiarities of the Canadian marketplace. About eighteen thousand people will be laid off, the result of this failed business plan, and the closures will impact a lot of other contract relationships across the country. So, should all retailers beware of an impending country-wide downturn? Why wouldn't they wish to be alert to these type of changes, which are occurring almost hourly? Target's demise isn't by itself, linked to the decline of oil prices, but it may have influenced long-term strategy. If their financial advisors, suspected that there was going to be a recession, coming down the pike, in the next two years, it would have played into their concerns about profitability, which had already been shifted to 2021 at the earliest. A recession, mild or not, might have added years onto this projection. It's pretty early to be calling this present situation a recession, or even recession-like, but unfortunately, business and industry owners can't wait until the federal government finally uses the word publicly, to describe looming economic realities. We need to react now, to prepare for the potential storm on the horizon. If it doesn't come, well, then we will have safeguarded our business economies, by not going too deeply into debt.

     Antique dealers are pretty careful folks, and I would never describe them, in general terms, as being gamblers, or risk takers, in terms of inventory acquisition. I do believe, that a majority of antique dealers, who have their own shops, are well off financially, and own a large percentage of their inventory at any one time. They may have lines of credit, to cover over the counter purchases, and shop or mall incidentals, but overall, they like to pay cash for their purchases to avoid paying interest, which affects their selling prices. Pickers I have known, will offer deals to their antique shop clients, allowing them to sell off what they have selected, over a period of months, before they collect what is owed. I have known dealers who got into trouble this way, but it was always their fault, buying the type and period of antiques they did. Hard to blame the picker. They just offer a wholesale emporium on wheels, and the dealer calls the shots, about what comes off the truck. I used to have a parallel deal with a picker I got to know from North Bay, that always worked pretty well. I never made a lot of money doing this, but I would take advantage of this during the seasons, when there was a shortage of auctions, and I didn't feel like driving five hours to get to one in Southern Ontario. Pickers do the hunting and gathering work for the dealers, and usually have reasonable prices to offer shop-keeps, which I'm assuming is still a successful practice being conducted today. Suzanne and I are pickers and dealers, so we prefer, for the sake of budget control, to hustle up our own deals out on the hustings.

     A pretty significant number of antique dealers today, are part-timers, (attic dealers) and also have day jobs and professions, they are still actively pursuing at the same time. This is why they prefer being vendors in antique malls, and associated collectives, where they pay a rental and commission fee, but don't have to actually take a turn, running the larger enterprise. There are many "attic" and hobby dealers, who began their business ventures early on, as Suzanne and I did, to build a solid foundation, for an eventual full-time business at retirement from day jobs. By time they retire, most of their inventory is paid-for, and the businesses are well financed. In the so called olden days, there were far more dealers who made antiques their profession, earlier in life, without supporting employment elsewhere. I knew many so called "mom and pop" antique shops, and of course, they were far more vulnerable to economic downturns. Today, I don't see this the same, and know for fact, most pickers and dealers are financially, much less exposed, such that a recession wouldn't seriously hurt their personal economies. It might force some to close up their shops, or abandon antique malls, because of successive periods of lost revenue; but it would be quite rare, to have these businesses seized for their assets by creditors. As we buy what we know, and understand, (most of the time), we understand as well, that whatever goes up, comes down, and the cycle repeats. Instead of any panic, such as having clearance sales, or blow-out pricing, antique dealers just pack up their inventories, and move it back to storage, to be brought out at a later date when the economy improves. It always does. Antique dealers are a patient lot, and for veteran dealers, they have likely survived five or more downturns, and know exactly how to change-over their inventories, to suit the incoming storm. But much success hinges on "paid" inventory, and this is how a majority of us operate, to mitigate risk of losing our businesses, which tend to become life-long realities. Unfortunately, a great many retailers depend on lines of credit, and the precarious graces of deficit financing, in order to operate their enterprises; which of course, makes it risky business when inclement weather, in the form of economic recession, rises ominously above the horizon.

     As I promised earlier, this week, I want to share a few stories, as related by former British antique dealer, Reginald Way, from his biography, circa 1957, about dealing with the side-effects of first, the Great Depression, and second, the aftermath of the Second World War, as it affected his well established and respected business. He was a survivor in the antique trade, and he offers some pointers, on the sacrifices that had to be made, in order to preserve his business.

     "In the summer of 1930 we went away with some Bath (England) friends, to Pridmouth in Cornwall, for a month's holiday. I left John in charge of the business, and I was surprised how little he was selling in my absence, and at his report, that very few dealers were calling; this was most unusual. Soon after my return I managed to buy two or three remarkably fine pieces of antique furniture, and I told Messrs. Mallett about these. They startled me by saying that business was so quiet they were not purchasing anything at the moment. I'd heard, of course, of the great slump in Wall Street and I decided to go to London and find out from my friends in the trade, how things really were. I shall never forget the long faces and real fears of many of the men I talked to. The American slump, they said, had completely crippled the antique business in America and, as prices during the past five years had been ruled entirely by America, the English market was in a state of chaos. English dealers who'd allowed American dealers credit couldn't obtain payment. Several London firms didn't know where to turn for money and nobody knew the real value of an article. One friend of mine, gave me some very serious advice. He said, 'The antique trade won't recover from this for many years; get hold of as much cash as you can possibly raise, and cut down your overheads to the barest minimum.'

     "So that was that," wrote the British antique dealer, Reginald Way. "And as I sat in the 6:30 p.m. express from Paddington (station), I felt very unhappy. I realized my fairy dream was broken. I must get rid of my lovely home and gardens; Arch and the van must go; the quicker I set about these economies, the better it would be in the long run. Gladys was of course distressed, but we talked over the matter for many hours and decided that we'd live over the Gay Street shop in the same way as we'd done in Bristol. The shop was not big enough to take much stock, but we had the offer at a very reasonable price, of a larger one at Number eight Quiet Street, which was in a good position just off the bottom of Milsom Street. This shop had been opened during the 1914-18 war for people to give antiques, and other articles for sale, for the benefit of the Red Cross, and was known as the Gift Shop. After the war, a woman took it over and ran it as an antique business, but she wanted to retire, and I was able to take over the remaining years of her lease. It was not until April 1931 that I was able to sell Titan Barrow, so we didn't occupy Gay Street until then. Meanwhile the antique business went from bad to worse, and I had to cut my losses on all my stock. But when I heard what was happening to many other antique dealers, I knew that I was far better off than most of them. My wife's help and understanding at the time, is something I shall never forget. It is at such times that one learns to count one's blessings."

     Reginald Way wrote that, "In August 1931 my brother John came of age, with the right to take up his partnership in the business he wished. I told him that if he preferred it, he could carry on as he had been doing, living with us and working on a salary. In this way he needn't touch his capital until times were better. However, he wanted to become a partner at once, so this was arranged. One bright spot, shone out for me in that year: I was elected vice-president of the British Antique Dealers' Association. This was a great honor and the highest position a country dealer can attain in the Association. Owing to the enormous amount of work done by the BADA, only a London dealer could be president, as his presence is often required at a moment's notice at the headquarters in London. The year 1932 found us plodding along in the business in the face of prevailing trade difficulties. We fixed a luggage rail to the top of the Dodge saloon, so that we could carry home a large quantity of what we bought. Although we worked very hard, we were not quite clearing our expenses so that we were experiencing a small loss every week. I think it was this which made my brother decide to go into business on his own. No doubt he reasoned that with lower overheads, he could probably work at a profit. So he told me he wanted to dissolve our partnership and open his own business in Bristol. The partnership could be dissolved by either partner giving three months' notice to the other. I was worried about his decision and I begged him to take a little shop to start with, so as to conserve his capital and feel his way carefully. I was wasting my time, because a few weeks later, he told me that he'd rented premises at 71 Park Street. This was a fine shop on the corner of Charlotte Street, and when I lived in Bristol, it was occupied by Arthur Goldsmith, owner of the fashionable boot and shoe shop. I knew John couldn't have a low rent there, but he never told me how much he was paying.

     "Poor John didn't last very long in Bristol. I think he missed my knowledge and experience. One of the first things he did was to buy a collection of china and pottery cottages, and when I examined them for him, I had to break it to him that half were fakes. In the end he decided to give up antiques and, having sold his stock by auction, he went to help a friend who owned a hotel in Exeter. Later he became the landlord of the White Hart Hotel at Liskeard. There he married a Devon girl and had a son, also called John." The antique dealer adds, "Poor John, circumstances had forced him into the antique trade, which he'd never really cared for. I wish he could have had a longer life in the job he'd finally chosen, and in which, he was making a success. Our companionship was a close one, and I always felt for him that deep affection of an elder brother."