Night Owl Cards

I am as guilty as anyone for wallowing in nostalgia. This blog is often an ode to old cards. It is an enabler to those who think of collecting in the 1970s as the best way to collect. You want rose-tinted glasses? I'm handing them out for free, night owl style. I even went a step farther into the past a few months ago by declaring that I would stop trying to complete modern card sets, that it would be mostly vintage for me, because of my disgust for what collecting has become. And then, yesterday, I tweeted this: But this can be taken a couple of different ways. For some collectors this is "The Truth." Cards and collecting and life will never be as good as it was when we could walk four blocks to the store, put a quarter on the counter, and get a waxy pack filled with photos on brown cardboard that was almost as edible as the gum that was included. There are many, many days when I consider this "The Truth," too (although I never experienced a six...

First a note about the latest "Define the Design" post. I said it was going to be a toughy, didn't I? No one really came up with an ideal description for the 1990 Upper Deck set -- probably because it is "the most boringest boring bore of boredom set," to partially quote dayf. So, for now, I'm going with my "green-and-gold racing stripe set" definition on the sidebar. If anyone comes up with something better, let me know. But you won't win cards for it now. As for the 1991 Upper Deck set, a few people came up with a similar definition that works pretty well. The design seems to suggest the path from second base to home plate. The person who came up with that first is David from Topps Tribe . I'll be using his "Score From Second" description in the "Define the Design" sidebar, and he wins a stack of '91 Upper Deck cards! David, email me your address, and I'll send you some 2009 Upper Deck as well. OK, speakin...