Charles wrote:
>
> When you have a bit that's rare, and you know it's rare,
> and you have only one of them...or maybe even two...it's
> probably smart to just keep them.
>
> Because, inevitably, sure as the sun rises in the East,
> you're going to need that very rare bit someday, and
> you're going to wish you had it.
>
> And keeping such things, even if you don't have a use for
> it right away, is almost never bad from a financial
> point-of-view. Extremely rare and desired items like con
> denti pedals will just keep going up in value. The
> longer you hold them, the more they're worth.
>
> Now, if a person needs the money, for whatever reason,
> far be it from me to say they shouldn't sell something.
>
> But I can't tell you how many times, until the last
> couple of years, anyway, that I have sold some very rare
> bits, and regretted it later. More than a few times.
> And I probably never really *needed* the money, except in
> the cases of a couple of very valuable bikes that I don't
> regret selling. The money came in handy, and I don't
> miss them.
>
> But, in general, when it comes to things like con denti
> pedals..I'd keep such beasts until I knew I was leaving
> the vintage bike biz completely.
>
> For all the people here who may be looking at some very
> rare bit and wondering if they should sell it..I say,
> think VERY hard about it...and then keep it. Because,
> more likely than not, you'll regret selling it.
>
And then there is that hazy yet dangerously life-altering moment when the collector who owns the collection becomes the collector owned by the collection, the signifier defined by the signified, Chatwin's Utz metamorphosed into a miniature Meissen figurine.
There are consequences -- secret obsessive thoughts, financial misjudgements, creeping insanity, abandonment by loved ones.
As someone who once collected many things and became, by force of habit if not by nature, a collector, I recall now with considerable relief those days when I sold off my precious objects bit by bit or consigned them to some faraway auction house. The feeling of liberation that came with getting the monkey off my back was worth every instant of short-lived post-partum angst, a sentiment that seems more and more pathetic as the distance between it and me lengthens...
For me, finally, a bike is a thing to ride, with the wind in my hair and the sweat dripping off my brow, muscles screaming for more. I'll never be a bike collector just like I'll never stop riding until I simply cannot swing one old leg over that Brooksian slab.
Emanuel Lowi Montreal, Quebec.
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