I have always had an interest in ancient Egypt. Well, always technically began when I was going into 7th grade and discovered a paperback book about Howard Carter discovering King Tut's tomb in the early 1920s. For awhile I was convinced I was going to be an Egyptologist. As with most things, my 13 year old self romanticized what being an archeologist would be like. Unlike Howard Carter who capitalized on the British system of finding a rich sponsor and then paying local people to do all of the grunt work of digging and moving dirt and sand, I understand most archeologists spend a lot of time researching and sifting through dirt and cataloging.
Before discovering King Tut, I spent years uncovering the past in my grandmother's drawers and closets. She lived next door to us growing up and she never minded my fascination and grubbing through things and asking questions. I loved old photo albums and boxes of papers. It was all treasure to me.
I've related before that my father was obsessed with finding lost treasures of the old west. He would take me along on trips to old ghost towns where he would run his metal detector over old outhouses and cabin walls. We never found anything much but horseshoes and railroad spikes.
My father would also take me to flea markets and I loved walking by table after table of country antiques: oil lamps, tools, dishes and other junk people had dug out of old barns or rescued from estate sales. I loved the unique and unusual. My bedroom as a kid was filled with various curiosities like bird's nests, wasp nests, rocks, marbles and old toys.
Ironically, my mother was a minimalist having grown up in the depression with 11 brothers and sisters and very little possessions. My father had grown up in the same house my grandmother lived and was an only child. He liked his stuff. So it was one of those points of tension between my parents that she eventually just tolerated.
I kept my habit of going to flea markets, thrift stores, antique malls and auctions as I became and adult. When I lived alone, it was entertainment and I'll admit I accumulated a great deal of stuff just for the sake of having it. When I got married much of the stuff went back home to the same thrift stores I sourced them from but some of my treasures that I could give up ended up in plastic bins that moved with me to two new homes and habitatted the garage for years.
When the pandemic hit I decided to go through the treasures and that's when I truly began an eBay seller. AI hadn't been created yet so the research and drafting listing and setting prices was all up to me. And slowly I emptied the bins. Things that didn't sell eventually made it back to Goodwill.
As the pandemic winded slowly down my interest in thrifting picked up again. I gained a home office and was excited about stocking it with treasures. But when it looked like I was going to cross over the line into "too much stuff" territory, I started selling again and realized it was the best of both worlds. I could go to thrift stores and antique malls (which I love) and acquire as long as I kept a steady flow heading out the door via eBay. Dizgraceland Collectibles took form.
I have to admit it is more fulfilling than the career I'm in (marketing) that is finally winding down. But I'm able to use my marketing savvy and apply it to retail. And of course I have my AI friends who are like the Egyptian locals who helped Carter move dirt and sand. They do the heavy work and I have the fun of finding and figuring out what the things are, where they came from and where they should go.
I'll admit it is still difficult at times part with really cool things at times. I still have my collections and interests. So far the lack of space caps those collections and I have been able to stop acquiring things I don't have room for. Also, as I age, my forays through thrift stores have taught me that many of those stores are the great mother ship that all things come from and return to eventually. And the reality is that same will be true for my precious treasure.
