One Person's Junk ...

Shopping malls, for better or worse, have occupied the "honored" position of cultural hub at least for the decade of the '80s. But we are in a new decade, and I maintain we have a new locus of cultural power and vitality: the flea market.

One Person's Junk...

For the occasional collector or hobbyist, flea markets are the Super Bowl of yard sales. We find table after table of treasures just waiting to be discovered, seemingly endless choices of gadgets amid gizmos, all of which have multiple uses (but most of which will never be used).

Best of all is the occasional uncovering of a valuable item that has personal significance. We become ecstatic to find an exact duplicate of the Montana belt buckle that had been a gift from a junior high buddy. Or an A&W root beer mug that those tasty floats came in. Or a vintage comic book with familiar characters and a new plot.

Flea markets are a place to catch a bit of personal history. Such nostalgia is not a bad thing in moderation.

Is Another's Treasure

Moderation, however, is not what the current flea market binge is about. Nostalgia has become profitable, and some people are making serious money at it.

Les Daniels, author of the recently released Marvel: Five Fabulous Decades of the World's Greatest Comics (Abrams, 1991, $45, cloth), a beautifully produced history of the largest comic book company, writes, "Intent on recapturing their own youth, the first collectors concentrated on publications from earlier decades, most of which were available for only a few dollars apiece." But now, according to Daniels, "first issues of all new series are considered particularly promising investments." This explains why some specialty outlets, antique shops, and collectibles stores did better business than department stores and malls last year.

This being true, flea markets themselves are in the midst of change. They are now the hunting ground of the specialist. The hobbyist and the occasional collector are being bought out by (that all-consuming beast) the investor. John Annunziata, owner of Unique Collectibles in St. Paul, explains that "the hobbyist is being victimized because the investor will not tolerate the product remaining stable. Investors cause inflation because that is their goal."

Many books that detail the collectible items, such as Daniels' Marvel and The Toy Book, a remarkably interesting, though not exhaustive, work by Gil Asakawa and Leland Rucker (Alfred A. Knopf, 1992, $29.50, cloth), provide lively histories of collectible artifacts in coffee table format. With the investment craze as it is, these will likely be the only form in which some hobbyists will ever see the prizes of their collecting.

An ever-increasing number of "price guides," published on a growing array of topics, aid the investor by listing the "value" of collectible items, meaning what is being paid for them. Random House has an entire line devoted to such books, the House of Collectibles. Included among their recent releases are the third edition of The Official Price Guide to Star Trek and Star Wars Collectibles and The Official Price Guide to Lunch Box Collectibles. Other guides assign value for items such as Avon containers, Jim Beam whiskey bottles, and rock-and-roll memorabilia.

Surprise! There are problems inherent to the system. Most guides, whether in book or magazine form, are produced by people in the industry themselves, since they have a finger to the pulse of the market. But they also have self-interest. They can define what they've "got" as "hot." The dealer/investor determines what the hobbyist will (or will not) pay. And as the price rises, the hobbyist falls behind in his or her ability to play the game.

And then, when there is no inherent interest, when the prices no longer escalate, the investor disappears. "Investors will have come, seen, and conquered, and then they are gone, off to another market," explains Annunziata.

An indicator of the times: Sotheby's Holdings Inc., a New York auction firm, recently held an auction of comic art. Because of the investors' demands, low-brow art is entering the high-brow arena. And the hobbyist is exiting. Sotheby's pulled in five-figure prices for 30-year-old comics...even in these recessionary times.

Those prices aren't for kids or baby-boomers looking for their past; according to Annunziata this is a case of "dealers buying from dealers, inflating the price to draw in the investor." Manipulation of the market. What a concept.

But It's Still Just Stuff

So what does it all mean?

Though there is no doubt that the nostalgia binge relates directly to economic trouble in these United States, I think that it even more relates to a spiritual crisis. With an uncertain future, we tend to look at our past with a hope of recovery.

Out of a desire for stability, we look to the most stable reality we have - a past that cannot be changed or altered. Our future is in doubt, but if we surround ourselves in memorabilia, we control our past. And we attach ourselves to something of permanence. Unfortunately that permanence is now being priced out of the market.

In the '80s, the power people of shopping mall fame thought they had an alternative to spirituality: greed. For many, acquisition supplied needs and diverted ultimate questions. The hoopla over flea markets is much more an indication of the search for life in our society.

Activities such as the Sotheby's sale of comic art are an attempt by those same power people of the '80s to perform a leveraged buy-out of that search. If they can acquire the meaningful material of the popular culture enthusiast, they can control the symbols of the age.

What they don't get, however, is that for most people the search is deeper than that. People are looking for real answers to real questions when faced with real dilemmas. The artifacts of our past provide meaning, and give us hope as the search continues.

Annunziata says that it is the absolute right of the collector to determine the value of the collectible. Investors seem to believe otherwise as they bid for the symbols. They believe that big money determines value. But popular culture ultimately is controlled by the people; and if it is monopolized, the people will simply find another forum for the expression of their views.

Stay tuned.

Bob Hulteen was the Under Review editor at Sojourners when this article appeared.