At Long Last...

Here’s a sampling of the goodies I recovered from the flea market on Sunday:

Yes, the Man o’ War is Chalky!

He came with his original box as well, but I’ll spare you the sight of it: let’s just say it did its job, and leave it at that. The model, on the other hand – well, other than a couple of minor mildew marks and pinpoint rubs, I couldn’t ask for a better example!

As you may know, my very first model was a Chalky Man o’ War, but I’ve been wanting to add another to my MOW family for a while. With the market being the way that it is for Chalkies, I had to bide my time until something showed up at the flea market. And finally, one did!

(Ah, if only he had shown up before BreyerFest, instead of after. I really could have used him in the Man o’ War display at the Horse Park.)

Honestly, I was actually very lucky to get him at all.

Just a few moments after I spotted him and his cohorts (the dealer had about a dozen pieces, of various vintages and conditions) and made my way not-too-leisurely to the booth, an old guy literally ran up behind me and started grabbing horses as well. I had to shoo him away from my “pile” – including the Smoke Western Prancer, above – a couple of times, actually.

And then he proceeded to badger the vendor about the price, rather aggressively and persistently. The dealer and I both knew that his story about buying them for his granddaughter was probably bunkum, but she eventually relented, if only to get him to go away.

I did a bit of negotiating as well, but (I hope!) not quite as obnoxiously. I was pretty excited to get the Man o’ War, and I did not try to hide it. So paying a bit more than I normally would have seemed fair.

Guys like that are one of the reasons why hobbyists get a bad rap at flea markets: it’s one thing to haggle, but it’s quite another to badger. And never assume the person you are dealing with, on either end of the deal, is an idiot.

Yet it is a behavior so ingrained in some of us that it plays out with distressing frequency, even at BreyerFest. (And I am not immune to attempts!)

The Western Prancing Horse I am on the fence about; his shading is magnificent, but I really don’t need another Smoke variation. He was the fellow covered in a gravy-like substance I mentioned before. He’s still a bit yellow, but considerably better looking than he was on Sunday.

The Beswick puppies also exist in a similar fugitive state; until I decide their fate, they’ll be chilling on my desk with the little Britains Donkey that came in the Hagen-Renaker box. (I don’t normally collect Britains, but he’s so cute and little!)