Night Owl Cards

  I spent a couple of days away to visit folks in the Buffalo area.   I've mentioned many times how much I love that city. Not only is it full of nostalgia -- it's where I spent my college years, where I met my wife, etc. -- but it is much more "me" than the place I live currently, where I've lived more than 30 years, a.k.a., not the most civilized place in the world.   For example: The hobby of sports card collecting.   My life of collecting cards where I live is mostly buying online, waiting for a card show to appear every month or so, and taking a gander at the card aisle whenever I happen to be in a big box (which is a lot less often than it was 5-10 years ago) and finding it barren.   Those are my options living where I do. Admittedly, they're not too bad and better in some ways than they once were, I mean I never heard of a monthly card show in my neighborhood even two years ago. But if I lived in a city like Buffalo, I could do so much damage.   In t...

I'm afraid this is going to be another "the card shop let me down" post. I don't like doing this. But the name of  the game with this blog is "night owl's journey through collecting," in which I literally let the cards fall where they may. Besides, it's not a scathing indictment. More of a "woe is me" write-up than anything else. Anyway, I think I've made it known that I go out of my way to give card shops a shot. They barely exist where I live, but there I am, going the extra mile. In fact, just last month I walked into my town's card shop with which I basically had cut ties. One more chance, I said to myself. I was shocked when I arrived there. The overpriced boxes were gone. The individual Yankee hits for sale were gone. All that was left (besides the clothing and memorabilia that bore me to tears), were some opened boxes holding 2012 packs, behind the shelf. "What do you have?" I said with a confused look on...

I haven't been to my hobby shop in a number of months. The experience there has been somewhat of a turn-off , which may be just as much my problem as this particular hobby shop. It's the only LCS within a hour's drive from me, so when I hear about other collectors who have 5 or 6 shops within driving distance, or read about what they grabbed at the LCS, I still have this idyllic concept in my head about what a "good" hobby shop is like, and what other people get to sample that I don't. I envision a magic card castle where you can track down vintage singles, where you can grab random packs of 15-year-old cards, where every pack or box you buy is guaranteed a terrific hit. Most of all, I envision it as a place where you can obtain cards that you can't get anywhere else. Those cards are called "hobby exclusives," and I still operate under the assumption that they're the greatest-looking cards that you will find. I still assume that, even ...

I think I've struck upon the reason why I have issues with my local card shop. It's not necessarily the prices, although that plays a part as you'll see in a moment. It's not necessarily the workers' complete disinterest in cards, although they're very interested in taking your money. It's not the NASCAR jackets or the NFL bar room signs. It's this: I have a problem with businesses that are set up like a general store in the 1880s. Maybe this only makes sense to me, but when I made the connection it was like I had unearthed a great discovery. I then immediately knew why I had a pit in my stomach when I walked into the store and a sense of either relief or disgust when I left the store. I do not like shopping when I have to stare behind the counter at the merchandise or pepper the guy behind the counter with questions. I do not converse and shop at the same time. Or, let's say I do not do it WELL. I don't like talking and shopping -- at lea...