Moses is said to have transformed his staff into a snake, Jesus  turned water into wine, and YouTube morphed Chris Crocker into a celebrity and earned him an entry into the annals of Wikipedia.  Moses… Jesus… YouTube: Members of a legacy of miracle workers of which we, the Savo Auctioneers, are a not a part.  Indeed, despite the rumors… despite the myths… despite the half-whispered conversations, we are not alchemists.  We cannot turn garbage into gold.

The auction industry is changing.  Certainly it has been an evolving business since its inception.  Starting somewhere around 500 BC in ancient Babylon, the auction trade was invented as a betrothal tool.  Daughters entered into marriage with the highest bidder.  Six hundred years later in the Roman Empire, auctioneers accompanied military commanders on the battlefield in order to advise on which spoils should be brought back to Rome to be put on the block.  Cataloged art auctions began in the coffeehouses of France around the time of Napoleon.  Slaves were bought and sold via the chant all over the world for hundreds of years, and now–2,500 years after the birth of auction–thousands of auction houses still gather crowds and millions of people sell goods on the virtual stage through online auction sites.

Ah yes, eBay.  Nothing else in history has changed the auction industry like the internet.  It took off like a rocket.  Prices soared, fueled by the novelty of the venue and the sudden availability of items that couldn’t be found locally.  Bids at live auction went up, up, up as hopeful resellers paid more and more for things that were once landfill material, because eBay suddenly made such junk sellable.  Eventually the market flooded, fraud entered the Zeitgeist, the novelty wore off, and now we’re back to where we started.

Now is the time that separates the men from the boys, for we auctioneers are mucking through a transitional phase.  I find lately that it’s easier to sell a $1,000 painting than it is to sell a $100 bedroom set.  Why?  Well first of all, the auction industry was not invented for everyday items.  Rather, it was invented to create competition for rare and desirable items.  Auctions set the market value for everything fine: art, jewelry, pottery, glass, antiques, real estate, etc.  Everyday items are still needed by the general public.  People still need usable furniture and housewares.  However, such things are prevalent; they are everywhere.  Even when demand is high, if the supply is endless, prices will not reflect the demand.  Such is what is happening today.  With the mundane goods being infinitely available, buyers are naming their price, while the extraordinary are continuing to climb in value.

Yet, there are other factors that have lowered the prices of everyday merchandise.  High fuel costs are pinching the pockets of everyone, leaving less disposable income.  And discount retail outlets make it so that it’s not worth buying many things used at auction.  For example, why would anyone pay more than a handful of dollars for a picture tube TV at auction when new ones are so laughably cheap in the stores?  The same goes for tools.  With stores such as Harbor Freight selling tools at very low prices, why take the risk of buying a drill press at auction that may or may not work?  High quality tools are only needed by the craftsman who makes a living with them.  The weekend warrior repairman only needs something that will get the job done once or twice.

But as I said, high end merchandise is as easy to sell as ever.  With less disposable income, people are saving their money to buy what they really want, rather than raising their cards will-nilly to bid on something just because they feel like it.  And with prices down for everyday stuff on the flooded eBay, many items that enjoyed their fifteen minutes of fame on the auction block are now heading back to the landfill.  Such are the times.

Which brings me back to my original point: We auctioneers are not alchemists.  Just this past week, a gentleman (we’ll call him Mr. Roar) stormed into my auction gallery clutching a check and receipt we had sent him.  We had taken two items from him: A Remington Model 12 pump .22 and a very used and old chipper.

Despite its poor condition, the Remington did rather well.  The chipper on the other hand was a very difficult sell.  As a matter of fact, the first two times we offered it on the block, no one even bid on it.  There was absolutely no interest in it.  The third time was the charm.  A bidder offered $50 and that’s where it was knocked down, for no one else advanced it.

Now, when my father and I picked up the chipper and rifle from Mr. Roar, we explained to him that the chipper would almost definitely bring under $100.  This chipper was not commercial grade.  It was not a powerful machine.  It was few horsepower device that could fit into the trunks of most automobiles.  Similar ones sell at Harbor Freight for about $200.  Now this particular chipper was a Sears model, but again it was well used.  Plus, as I always try to explain to the consignor, the high bidder bought it without any warranties or guarantees.  If he brings it home and it doesn’t work, well… he’s out of luck.  As-Is, Where-Is.

Mr. Roar came into the gallery shouting, “Tell me this is a joke.  Fifty dollars for that chipper?”  He accused us of being rip-off artists and claimed that he was going to come to the next auction and let all those attending know that we, the Savo Auctioneers, are no good morons who cheat their consignors.

Well, Mr. Roar (and you know who you are), I didn’t make any money selling your dilapidated chipper.  And let me extend this invitation to you on behalf of myself, my brother, and my father: Should you, Mr. Roar, feel the need to come to my next auction and berate me in front of my attending bidders, well come on down.  We, the Savo Auctioneers, would love to offer you the floor.  We’ll even hand you the microphone and let you stand upon the podium.  If making an ass out of yourself will help you sleep better at night, then by all means come on down.  I am not ashamed to have sold that chipper for $50.  I know what it was worth, my bidders know what it was worth, and you, Mr. Roar, know what it was worth.  What would you have paid for it had you been attending and wanting to bid on it?

I handle estate contents, everything from the usable to the absurd, and it’s just a matter of truth right now: Absurd trumps usable.  All the weird, unique, silly, crazy, rare things are selling and commanding good to extravagant prices at auction.  All the everyday, common items that can be found in any auction house, in any flea market, in any after-market store are bringing mediocre prices.  This is the way things are.  I am not a miracle worker.

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