Damn I hate the weather here in Minnesota. I attended a good looking auction on Sunday. It rained, it snowed, the winds blew hard. There was a good size crowd and apparently they liked 1930's walnut furniture. 3 piece bedroom sets that generally sell in the $100 range sold for $500 and $625. A 1930's oak parsons dining table with 6 chairs, usually selling in the $80-100 range, made $375. One of the auctioneers said to me "furniture seems to be doing well today". I ended up buying some lamp shades and parts and some old door hardware.
The bigger injustice occurred on the way to the auction. I was driving into a small town area just before the auction site. I was doing 42 mph slowing from the 45 mph zone that preceded the town. There sat the police. It was 10 o'clock on a Sunday morning. And apparently the limit had just lowered to 30 mph. The lights went on, I pulled over on the shoulder and out she stepped. Like Robert Blake in Electra Glide in Blue there she was, 5 foot nothing and maybe 100 pounds with her entire bat utility belt included. If I was carding her, I would have questioned whether she was old enough to drive, let alone carry a gun. I don't know if its my genial attitude or my snow white hair, but she told me to slow down and have fun at the auction. No ticket, no warning, no nothing. What an angel of a little girl.