THE SMALL THINGS
The Priceless Value of ... ‘Old Stuff’ BY STUART PERKINS
It was a beautiful day in Old Town with so much to see, do and taste. An outdoor seat at any waterfront eatery guarantees great people-watching, but on an early fall day like this, walking and window-shopping were in order. I strolled past the front window of one of several antique shops in the area. Sunlight reflected in a hundred directions as it struck crystal glasses lined up along a shelf. The rainbow of sparkles caught my eye and I stopped to look. My mother has glasses like these, I thought. On a shelf below was a huge punch bowl. My mother’s is very similar. Staring at these old pieces reminded me of a conversation I once had with a coworker at the office. A pre-virus discussion before Zoom meetings replaced water-cooler chats. My office was just down the hall from Karen’s.
ILLUSTRATION BY LUCINDA JENNINGS
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alexandrialivingmagazine.com • November / December 2020
I glanced in her door on my way to the copier. She motioned frantically when I passed
by, barely looking up from her computer as her hand waved me toward her desk. She was breathing heavily. “Isn't this antique Italian walnut burl carved armoire beautiful?” she asked. “What?” I wasn’t even sure what language she was speaking. She shoved the monitor in my direction, pointed at the screen and waited for me to be awed. “Oh.” I said. “A wardrobe.” “You have one?” she asked with a slight smirk. “No, but I have a cedar wardrobe that was my great-grandmother’s,” I answered. “Of course.” She frowned as she slid the monitor back toward herself. “I love proper antiques.” “I like old stuff too.” I left to go to the copier. I have plenty of old stuff. Not just old, but meaningful. Each piece belonged to someone in my family and was passed down and down again until landing with me. Most may not be so valuable in dollars, but each has a story. When I look at them, I imagine the person who first owned them, how they used them, and whether they ever imagined that a
