collector's auction

collector's auction --

treasures of a lifetime sold

to the highest bidder

"You have to have a number to bid," the lady sitting at the entrance to the convention hall says. "I just want to look around," I reply. I've done enough bidding to know I'd better not take a number.

          It's a two-day collector's auction, combining several estates. As I walk around the long tables spread with collectibles with my friend, we're both saying things like, "My father brought me a doll just like that from Switzerland," or "I remember when I won a set of yellow carnival glass plates," or "I've got an old glass milk bottle, but it has a little bulge on top for the cream," or "Whatever happened to my marble collection?" 

          And then of course I realize that this is probably what will happen to my accumulation of a lifetime. It will end up at an estate auction, passing into another person's life and then another and another, until what? Maybe a museum, or maybe the local dump, where some archaeologist in the far distant future will unearth the remains of ancient treasures and wonder, "What on earth did they use that thing for?"