[conor912]

There was never a lot of extra money floating around my house in Boston when I was a kid, but my dad always managed to scrape together enough to bring home a cello pack or two, which was often the highlight of my day. When I was 9 or 10 I saw an ad for a live memorabilia auction near my house and I begged him to take me. He agreed and for two weeks I scrounged and saved every penny I could find. This was around 1989 when the hobby was in full swing, and I remember walking into that room and being the youngest person there by easily 20 years. I had all of about $8 in my pocket. As the auction got under way my dad and I quickly realized that we were in over our heads. I have no recollection of what the other lots were, but they were selling for hundreds if not thousands of dollars. Just as we were losing hope and ready to leave, these tags came on the block. When the auctioneer announced the opening bid (around $30), my dad quickly reached into his pocket and grabbed every dollar he had and frantically counted it. Once he realized he had enough to get it, he told me to raise my paddle. To this day, I have no idea if no one else in the room wanted it, or if the rest of the sharks in the room just "let the kid have one", but we were the only bidders. These tags will always make me think of my dad and him wanting to give me all the things I ever wanted, even though he often couldn't.