Rinker on Collectibles

RINKER ON COLLECTIBLES — Column #1794

Falling in Love Over and Over Again

Just before noon on Tuesday, May 25, 2021 an HBO production crew arrived at my home in Kentwood, Michigan. HBO has authorized the production of a three-hour documentary on the 1990s Beanie Baby craze. I was asked to reprise my role as the Beanie Meanie, one of the few individuals who had the courage to argue that “this too shall pass” with Beanie Baby pundits whose enthusiasm caused them to claim that (1) Beanie Babies were the next Hummel figurines [they were more right than they knew], (2) Beanie Babies were the collectible of the future, and (3) Beanie Babies had a long-term investment future. Right, wrong, and wrong.

The crew was at my home until 8:30 in the evening. I was taped for three and one-half hours. I was on an adrenaline high the entire time. I spent the day reliving 25-year-old memories with a producer and crew who were delighted that they finally were taping the “other side” of the Beanie Baby story.

This was not the first time I was taped in my home environment. I entertained a CBS Sunday Morning crew at my “bachelor pad” at the Vera Cruz [PA] Elementary School, my former home and office of Rinker Enterprises, in the fall of 2001. It was this interview that eventually led to my three-year stint as the Collector Inspector on HGTV. I do not have similar expectations for my HBO appearance. In fact, it will more than likely be a “last hurrah.”

During my career as HGTV’s Collector Inspector, my production crew and I taped 78 half-hour shows and a total of 238 homes. The HBO request reversed my role. I was the one visited and not the visitor. My experience during the HBO taping, as wonderful as it was, gave me a new appreciation of what my crew and I put each of the 238 homeowners through in respect to the disruptions caused by lighting and preparing shooting locations for taping, taping, and breaking down. Although we tried our best, we never left a home looking exactly like it did before we arrived.

Linda was a nervous wreck prior to the crew’s arrival. She wanted everything cleaned up and in order. I told her to forget it. The producer and director select the location based on their needs. I sent several pictures of rooms in my house that offered set up possibilities in advance. Secretly, I knew the location they would select – the desk area of my cluttered, piled high, no apparent order basement office. I was right. Linda, to her credit, stayed upstairs on the first floor the entire day.

I want to share some valuable lessons I learned from the taping process. Prior to the HBO crew’s visit, I was asked to cull through my things to find out what I owned from the 1990s.

Lesson Number 1: When you are nearly 80, 25 years earlier seems like yesterday. I grew up in the late 1940s and 1950s. I raised my children or at least attempted to raise them in the late 1960s and 1970s. The 1990s were the beginning of the peak of my professional career. I was so focused on my career, I missed most of the decade.

Lesson Number 2: I own too much stuff. Although I auctioned off over 35,000 objects when I sold the Vera Cruz Elementary School in 2011, I moved more than 10,000 with me to Michigan. In addition,

I keep acquiring. “Always room for one more” is a truism for collectors. I have two basement storage areas with built-in shelves in my Kentwood home. The shelves are filled with archival file and other boxes containing thousands of objects. Many have not been opened and explored within the past five years.

Lesson Number 3: Life is a continual treasure hunt if you are a collector. The treasure hunt is not confined to search for new acquisitions at antiques and collectibles auctions, estate sales, the internet, flea markets, malls, shop, and shows. Searching for objects in an existing collection, remembered or not remembered, is a treasure hunt.

I spent several hours going through boxes of stuff. I found over a dozen items from the1990s ranging from state quarters to Mattel Hot Wheels Computer Cars still in their period blister packs. The 1990s pile grew bigger the longer I searched. Anniversary Action figures of Boba Fett and Batman joined the pile. Much to my surprise, I even found two Beanie Babies. I had blocked their existence from my mind. My Southern Folk pottery face jug collection contains a number of face jugs made in the 1990s. I excluded them from the pile.

Lesson Number 4: When a television production crew tells a homeowner it will return everything moved during the course of set up to the exact location from which it was moved when the taping is finished it is lying. This is a “no way, Jose” promise. The crew goes through the motion of taking pictures to ensure they keep their promise. In this instance, pictures are not worth a thousand words. They are worthless.

The HBO crew taped in only one location at my house. It took two and one-half hours to dress my desk area, light it properly, position the camera and monitors, and prep me.

Lesson Number 5: Do not look. I wisely spent most of the setup time upstairs and out of the way. Watching another person handle objects from a collector’s collection is enough to drive most collectors mad. No one handles their objects to any collector’s standards. There are times to be fussy and times not to be fussy. Allowing a television production crew to dress a set and set up their equipment is one of the “not to be fussy” times.

Taping started at 2:30 PM. I taped for two hours before the crew took a break to eat. Once done, I taped for another 90 minutes. Break down began around 7:30.

Lesson 6: Do not try to remember what you said. My three and one-half hour HBO interview will be cut apart into sound bites. Like most interviewees when they see the final product, the standard response is “did I really say that” or “that’s not what I meant.” My approach is simple-- just spell my name correctly.

There is no privacy on the internet. I discovered this when the HBO production crew informed me that I would be shown clips from my Beanie Meanie television appearances from 1997 and 1998. Prior to the crew’s visit, I had been asked to check my supply of VHS tapes of my television interviews to see what material I have. It was one of these “are you kidding requests.” I no longer own a VHS tape player, just as my computer no longer had a 3 1/2” inch disc hard drive.

The HBO researchers are professionals. They found two American and one German television show on which I appeared as the Beanie Meanie. I knew about the two American shows. I was unaware of a German appearance. It seems a German television company obtained some footage from one of the American shows, dubbed me in German, and incorporated it their program. I will be adding that tidbit to the media portion of my resume.

They also handed me a quote to read and then react. The quote was something I said or wrote in the late 1990s: “Most Beanie Baby collectors were uneducated housewives.” My “it was true” response was exactly what the producer wanted me to say. I called plays as I saw them throughout my entire career. Diplomatic is not a term used to describe me.

Lesson 7: Every collector knows exactly where everything he/she owns belongs. The HBO production crew kept taping during the break down. As they moved the 40 plus face jugs back from a nearby bedroom where they were placed for safety purposes, I was on my hands and knees trying to place them exactly where they were initially. Although the crew took pictures, they had difficulty determining where each face jug belonged. If you are not into face jug collecting, one face jug tends to look much like every other face jug. I had no desire to rest until order had been restored as I remembered and wanted it.

As I was rearranging the face jugs, the producer saw me moving them around. “What are you doing?” she asked. I explained my desire to see the face jugs restored to their proper order. This was a lie. I did not tell the whole truth.

Lesson 8: As I handled each face jug, I took a few seconds to fall in love with it again. I buy things I love. I surround myself with the things I love. Each object in my collections is a rival for my attention and affection. The good news is that I have plenty of love to give and like sharing it. Watch a collector’s eyes, hands, and body language when he/she picks up and examines a piece. A moment of intimacy occurs. It is personal, passionate, and usually private. As I thought back to the day before the interview, I realized I had the same experience going through my boxes of stored materials. I now know why the process took so long. So many things with which to fall in love and so little time to do it.

Harry L. Rinker welcomes questions from readers about collectibles, those mass-produced items from the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Selected letters will be answered in this column. Harry cannot provide personal answers. Photos and other material submitted cannot be returned. Send your questions to: Rinker on Collectibles, 5955 Mill Point Court SE, Kentwood, MI 49512. You also can e-mail your questions to harrylrinker@aol.com. Only e-mails containing a full name and mailing address will be considered.

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