All That

So, here he is, at last! 

Just your garden variety #93 Gloss Dapple Gray Belgian. The one made from 1964 through 1966, and who used to be the Graili-est of Grails for collectors in the 1970s and 1980s. 

Time and the Internet changed all that. 

There were a surprising number of Gloss Dapple Gray Belgians out there for me to choose from, but finding one that was that unique combination of price (I could go low-end “retail”) and condition (the best I could buy on that budget) was challenging. 

And whenever I thought I did… well, I didn’t. He might not be All That anymore, but he’s still something. There were a lot of painful near misses! 

But I think I finally found my guy. All I have to complain about is that he’s very slightly yellowed, and one ear seam is a little rough. 

He’s also not a Dapple Black variation, and he doesn’t have his original box or Blue Ribbon Sticker. I’ve had a good year, and a lucky one too, but obviously not that good and not that lucky.

I also paid slightly more than I wanted to, but I’m doing okay right now, financially, so I was willing to pay a little extra. But just a little. The amount of money I see some people throwing around in the hobby will never fail to baffle and appall me. 

That, and clapping at auctions. They didn’t accomplish anything, they just spent a lot of money. Unless you’re the one getting the money, there’s no reason to clap. (And even if you are, it just seems tacky.)

Eight and a Half Hours

A little bird has told me that a recent purchase I made is the source of a great deal of speculation.

Yes, I was the “lucky” soul who managed to score the 1993 BreyerFest Benefit Auction Red Roan Appaloosa Performance Horse on Thursday.

It took me a few seconds to see what I was seeing: that’s no ordinary Appaloosa Performance Horse. Buy It Now? Hella yeah. 

After a couple of tense seconds that felt like hours, the sale went through.

I started hyperventilating. Then I drank a massive amount of Mountain Dew (alcohol was off the table: I had to go to work in a couple of hours) and immediately texted a friend IN ALL CAPS, punctuated by swear words. As one does when someone scores a major grail. 

I’ve achieved a number of Grails in recent years, and the next “big one” I had been aiming for was an early BreyerFest Auction piece. That’s because most of those earlier models were probably actual Test Colors, and on the Vintage molds I prefer. They were what they were, and were not designed specifically to maximize bidding. 

I have also occasionally seen early Auction Tests turn up on eBay (and elsewhere), often misidentified. There was a not implausible hope that I could get lucky someday.

I was at the 1993 Auction; it was one of the few I actually attended, and probably the last where I could have afforded anything. I was in Art School and money was a little scarce, so I did not bid. (Though my BreyerFest roommate that year did.)

Do I remember this specific model from that year? Nope. I don’t remember many Auction Tests, recent and not so: these models slip from my mind, because I know they are not achievable in any way. 

And ultimately, so was this model. 

My ownership ended eight and a half hours later: the sale was canceled around 9 p.m., because “the item was out of stock.” I contacted the seller for more information, and the only explanation I was given was that it was “listed in error”. 

We’ve all had the experience of scoring something fabulous for a song on eBay, only to have the sale canceled a short time later, often when someone tattles after the fact. We’re not the only hobby where that happens, but we’re a small enough community to usually know who the suspects are.

Their story may be true. It may not. All I know is that when this model inevitably reappears, all I’ll be able to do is look away, and think: I owned you, once, for eight and a half hours. 

The Rest Of Them

The connection between the 2016 BreyerFest theme and this year’s BreyerFest theme is a little stretched – Oktoberfest is just like Carnivale! – and I’m okay with it only because it gives me a Mini Me of Caipirinha and the chance to own teeny versions of both Brigadeiros and Polomar, who are both so rare they don’t even qualify as Grails. 

(Brigadeiros hurts a little more than Polomar, because I wrote an article in a Sampler about the Morganglanz that advocated for a Pinto release, not long before that. Sigh.)

I was wondering when the Arabian/Arabian-adjacent component of BreyerFest would show up, and here he is!

Technically he’s inspired by the crest of the House of Wittelsbach, but for about 98 percent of us who first took a gander at him, we immediately thought of the 2018 BreyerFest Special Run Newmarket, on the Flash mold. That particular release didn’t go over so well – I bought one on Sunday afternoon during the sale of the leftovers, hoping that I’d eventually fall in love, and I didn’t – but the pattern looks way cuter and more appropriate on this flamboyant little Eberl Arabian.

The Stablemate that surprises me the most, though, is Torlinie, who is another Online-Only item:

I am not a fan of either form of Football – my childhood was spent grimacing through Detroit Lions games – but I have to say that I think Torlinie is my favorite of the Stablemates releases for BreyerFest this year. 

I know a lot of hobbyists feel this mold has been overused and are so over it by now, and I get it, but if there’s one mold that looks like he’s kicking a soccer ball down a field, it’s the G2 Clydesdale. The mold choice is just so spot on. (No pun intended!)

And like the pattern on Wittelsbach, it’s not something that I think any other mold at any other scale could pull off, except maybe the Brishen. 

All in all, this is a nice crop of BreyerFest Stablemates; I’m going to ignore whoever/whatever the Stablemate is going to be for the Finalist prize in the Customs Contest, because I’m a little too wrapped up in getting all my Quilting UFOs done this year to either start – or finish – anything worth entering. One of these years, I swear...

Life Choices

Heads up everybody: my schedule for the next seven weeks going forward will be different, and this may affect my Internet access. It’ll take a few days for me to figure out how, exactly.

The “silly season” gets off to an appropriately weird start: I received my first box lot and… it’s not the box lot I was expecting. It was completely different – and had more horses in it!

Everything seems to be sorted out, more or less, though I’ll have to wait until the weekend after next(!) to pull a completely different set of models to be upgraded out of my collection.

I guess I should consider myself fortunate that in all my years of buying and selling, this is only the second time (I can remember) that this sort of thing has happened. And in this case, it happily worked out in my favor.

Especially since my new schedule will probably preclude me from doing my usual rounds at the thrift stores, antique malls and local independent toy and hobby shops. Tractor Supply and Walmart Specials are also going to be harder to search for, and of a lower priority anyway. 

Except for that little Classic TSC Drafter. I’m gonna handpick that little bugger, regardless!

Oh, and I bought another box lot. Because at this point, what’s a few dozen more things to sort out, right?

One thing I probably won’t be buying: the Green Money Manager on eBay right now. Yes, it’s another grail, but it’s in pretty rough shape, and I have several boxes of many models in transit to the house right now.

What’s interesting about it is that while my Red Money Manager doesn’t have the full Breyer Molding Company molding mark on it that my Cigarette Host does, this Green one example does.

We already knew that the Cigarette Host and Money Manager were being sold simultaneously – they were available side-by-side in the 1950 Sears Wishbook – but what this means is that (a) they were being manufactured at the same time from the same molds and (b) even the Money Manager comes with mold variations.

(Stares into space, considers life choices.)

I will now spend the rest of the evening at my sewing machine. I have enough fabric and thread to last me a couple of lifetimes, so the temptation to spend will be minimal, I hope.

Idiosyncratic Grails

There are actually two different categories of hobby “grails”.

The first is the more obvious, and the one we more often think of as grail models: something that’s some combination of old, rare and scarce. Like a vintage Decorator, a Raffle Model, a Test Color, or a highly-sought-after variation of a popular release (i.e. a Chalky Misty).

Things like that are usually acquired either by sheer luck, or the application of a lot of money. And often both, in the case of numerically scarce models like Raffle pieces and Test Colors.

The second is less obvious, but more common – in many senses of the word. These tend to be more idiosyncratic, and more personal. Like trying to find a matching Stallion, Mare or Foal to complete a family, after the fact. Seeking out obscure variations of less popular molds, like the Grazing Mare or Morganglanz.

Or in this case, finding the ideal or “ultimate” version of an otherwise very common release:

The #112 Palomino Western Prancing Horse is the most common of the original vintage Western Prancing Horses, that included the #110 Smoke, #111 Buckskin, #113 Black Pinto, #114 Bay, and #115 Appaloosa. The Palomino ran from ca. 1962 through 1985, outlasting the #110 Smoke by nearly a decade.

How common is the Palomino? I swear, I find one in almost every big body lot I purchase, and there’s at least one in my body box at any given time.

(Checks sales list: Yup!)  

I’ve gone through many, many Palomino WPHs over the years, but it wasn’t until this past week that I finally found The One, above. 

That’s the thing with these idiosyncratic grails: they’re often way more difficult to find than something that’s numerically more rare. Or perhaps more frustrating, because you find yourself wading through so many potential candidates and find most of them lacking, one way or another. 

You find yourself more forgiving of small (and sometimes, not so small) flaws in a rarity because you know the likelihood of finding something better is remote. But with something more plentiful, the nagging possibility of something better is always out there.

What’s remarkable about this WPH is that in addition to his “bright” un-honeyed color and near-perfect condition, he also has no USA mold mark.

That means he’s at least 50 years old, because the Western Prancing Horse didn’t get the USA mold mark until sometime in 1970. It’s like he was just taken out of his shipper box and teleported 50 years in the future!

Of course, this now means I have to dig the previously-somewhat-adequate one I have out of storage, in addition to the Spanish Fighting Bull I have to compare to the ones I found last week, and (you knew this was coming, right?) probably fish out a few others from not one, but two box lots that are slowly making their way to me.  

Oh, I also ordered the Breyer Halloween Classic Ratsputin and (only!) one of this year’s Spooky Stablemates. (I still hadn’t spent my $25 BreyerFest live show credit, and just happened to log onto the web site a shortly after they uploaded them, and they qualified as Regular Run items, so...)

And I haven’t even gotten around to completing my purchase for the Vintage Club In Between Mare Zahra yet!

So much for reining in my spending this Fall. LOL.

Lucky Dog

Of all the Micro Run Drawings I haven’t been pulled for (essentially, all of them) the two that hurt the most were the Polled Hereford Bull Marshall (of course) and the Basset Hound Dugan.

With all of the others – like the Collie Maurice, the Ram Rodney, and the Brighty Cornelius – it would have been lovely to have been drawn for them, but they were not quite the heartbreakers Dugan and Marshall were.

The Polled Hereford Bull has been a favorite mold of mine for years, and I have way more variations and oddballs of the Hound Dog mold – both its original #325 Brown Bloodhound release, and the very popular and long-running tri-color #326 Basset Hound that followed – than I care to count.

When it comes to Bull molds in general, hobbyists are not entirely rational when it comes to Special Runs. (Have you seen the prices the BreyerFest Hamish lately?) Things got real ugly real quick with Marshall, so unless I come into substantial bit of money or more luck than I usually am accustomed to, he’ll probably never end up here.

Dugan I was more optimistic about; while the initial prices were also way out of my league, I also knew that the market for Breyer Dog molds is smaller and less… crazy? While some releases are perennially popular and/or pricey (the White Boxer, the Woodgrain Poodle, the Blue Bucky) the rest of the Breyer Dog market is more modest in both price and demand. I figured that after the initial rush, the prices for Dugan would eventually drift back closer to my comfort zone.

I did find one “in the zone” at BreyerFest a couple years ago. Even though I take some starter money with me, one of my personal rules for BreyerFest shopping is that I try to avoid spending what I haven’t yet made in room sales. Alas, I hadn’t made quite enough money at that point to buy him. 

When I finally did, some other lucky dog had already snapped him up.

Since this seems to be my Year of Grails, it should come as no surprise that another one turned up last week. This time, I did not hesitate:

I cannot even imagine what is going to turn up next. In fact, I am almost afraid to.

Bittersweet Complexity

The past few days have been bittersweet. Not only did the money I was anticipating finally arrive, but I finished my taxes and found (as I hoped) that I’d be getting a refund for the first time in many years. And both amounts were significantly larger than I expected.

Combined, they would have more than covered the trip to Seattle.

But alas, luck was not on my side, and no amount of money can turn me into one of those people who gets picked for everything they hope for.

My luck (lately) has been running more towards finding random rarities on eBay, and I am mostly okay with that.

The money won’t go to waste: there are plenty of purchases I’ve put off for months (and years!) that I can finally catch up on. And BreyerFest will definitely be more stress free, without the pressure of having to make as many sales to pay for it all.

(Assuming the world is closer to normal by then. Which – for the sake of my sanity – I am assuming is going to be the case, unless evidence or circumstance change.)

I can also go ahead with my plan of buying “a few glorious things” – at retail! I’ve decided to wait until BreyerFest to buy the Gloss Dapple Gray Belgian of my dreams, and one or two others if the opportunities present themselves like an earlier/homelier Auction Test Color, or a scarcer-than-average Woodgrain like a freestanding (never mounted on a lamp) Running Mare or Foal.

The latter may seem surprising because hobbyists tend to forget that the actual Regular Run #920 Woodgrain Running Mare and #930 Foal were only in production from ca. 1962 through 1965. A significant percentage of loose Woodgrain Mares and Foals on the market are actually ones set free from Ranchcraft Lamps.

Which are, themselves, likely later – or as I sometime call them – Post-Production Special Runs. In other words, separate releases entirely.

Sometimes it even feels like the Woodgrain Lamps Mares and Foals are more common than the freestanding pieces, but I think that’s more of a consequence of their manufacture. Many of the freestanding pieces ended up as toys, with a higher attrition rate than lamps, which as furniture don’t get manhandled quite as much or discarded quite as easily.

We genuinely don’t know much about production quantities of Regular Run models from the 1950 through the mid-1980s – and what the average attrition rate was for those models as they traveled through time to today.

To make a long story short: rarity is complicated, and more relative than you might imagine. So buy what you like at the price you are comfortable with.

My Three Emmas

And for a few brief glimmering moments, my Emma collection is complete….

… except for the one BreyerFest Auction Test Color, at least one Sample that I know of, and any inevitable Prize or Raffle models that are probably in the pipeline because we know how that goes.

But, it’s still pretty remarkable to be able to keep up with all the (technically) available releases of any mold for over four years.

It helps that she’s not insanely popular, and has had only three releases since her introduction in late 2015. And that I was lucky enough to attend Chasing the Chesapeake in 2016 to get a Black-eyed Susan first hand.

Everyone else was gunning for the Brishen Sagamore Rye or the Shire Testudo, but the heart wants what it wants.

With more popular molds like Silver or Othello, the sheer number of releases overwhelms all but the most resilient of hearts, minds and budgets. And with molds like Esprit, you were pretty much out of the running before you even got past the starting gate.

Actually, I was just thinking about this a few days ago: for collectors, most (but not all) Breyer molds that debuted from the mid-1970s through the mid-1990s are not particularly challenging to collect. Sure, most have one or two really tough ones – the Pluto has the “stealth” Spiegel Special Run in Dapple Gray, the Stud Spider has Stetson, and even Morganglanz has Brigadeiros!

But being able to get most of the way there without emptying your bank account – and in the meantime possibly being able to save up for the one or two that just might! – is a not unappealing collecting strategy. One that I’ve been considering as I mull over what I might want to add to my BreyerFest want list this year.

Now that I have somehow, inexplicably, found most of my Man o’ War grails.

Oh, My Beautiful One

Physically, BreyerFest was not too much of a drain on me – other than what I think was an allergic reaction to something at the hotel. It wasn’t the “con crud” that took down a bunch of people this year: all my symptoms – puffiness, stuffiness and congestion – were my typical allergic reactions.

(I’m guessing it was a soap, detergent or a cleanser the hotel was using, since it happened shortly after I took a shower.)

Mentally – well, we’ll get to that another time, the good and the bad.

But here is the one completely unmitigated good that came out of this year’s BreyerFest: it was the acquisition of a model I thought I would never own. A model I thought so unattainable, I never even imagined putting him on my Grail list:

The 1991 BreyerFest Raffle Model Gold Charm Man o’ War.

I did not attend the first BreyerFest in 1990: at the time, I was taking a bit of a respite from the hobby anyway, and what was advertised didn’t seem like all that big a deal – in fact, it felt a bit like Breyer was hijacking Marney’s Model Horse Congress for its own ends, but without the live show component.

But the following year was the year of four regional BreyerFests, each with a Decorator Raffle model. And the one in Kentucky? They were raffling off a Gold Charm Man o’ War.

I wanted to go. I had to go.

I spent $43 on raffle tickets: this is the most I have ever spent on any Raffle Model, before or since. That was a fairly huge amount back then, but you know the Man o’ War mold was/is a pretty big deal for me, so I had to give it a shot.

It didn’t happen, of course. And I definitely didn’t have the budget or the mindset to buy it second hand, so I just assumed that he was gone forever. Or at least until I won the lottery or something.

This year I had no plans on buying anything significant: maybe a few oddities, bodies and whatnot, but nothing major. I need to get caught up on a few things, financially: any extra moolah I made this year was going towards that goal.

But my sales were doing really well, so I felt a bit flush with cash and thought maybe I can get myself one nicer-than-average thing. Still within my budget, naturally, but you know how cheap I am: I was thinking really cool oddity, or a much needed upgrade.

I get back to the hotel on Friday after doing some volunteer stuff at the KHP. Since it was a bit on the “late” side, I had to park in the back back lot and hoof it through the 300 wing to my room, which at the opposite end (312) from where I had entered.

As I’m passing through, a room catches my eye. I have no idea why I even choose it, of all the rooms that were open, to walk into.

In the corner of the room, I see Him.

Ha! Surely he had to be some crazy, budget-busting price. These things never come up for sale. I thought myself honored to even see one in person.

Then I blinked several times when I saw his price. Were my eyes deceiving me? It was within spitting distance of the upper end of my budget! He was a bit tarnished and dinged, but heck, so was I, 25 years later. I made an offer, and after a tense 15-20 minute wait, the deal was done.

He was mine. I took him back to my room, and showed him off to a friend I had to leave in charge of my room for the five minutes I was gone.

What made his acquisition even better was because of that strange coincidence and timing, it led to a chain of events that brought another friend to also acquire her heart’s desire.

Oh, My Beautiful One. I have waited half my life to find you, and I am so glad you are now home. And from the moment I acquired you, spreading joy to all you encounter.

Getting Lucky

Regarding sales: I’ll be suspending sales for the next couple of weeks to deal with the usual beginning of the year stuff. All of my spare AQHA Horses will remain here for the time being.

Shopping, alas, got started a little early this year. The first haul, from Saturday:

A Hartland Our Lady of the Fatima, a Red Mill Unicorn, two yards of pink and white calico, and a fabulous pair of shoes. The Hartland will stay, the Red Mill will go, the fabric is a perfect match for a long-stalled quilt project, and the shoes are for what I’m now calling “The Carmen Project”.

A mixed bag, but it’s not like one can go thrift shopping with a specific list in mind; some imagination and improvisation does help. If I went to these places looking only for Breyers, or very specific Breyers, I’d walk away more disappointed than not. I prefer to approach every object I find as a maybe, rather than a nope.

You’d think that it would make list making and the obtaining of grails a rather frustrating effort, but I’ve long since adapted to that by adjusting my sense of scale: my grails and lesser wants tend to stay on my want list for years, not weeks or months.

It helps, too, that I sometimes get lucky – this year, quite literally! Two of the releases in the Vintage Club are molds that I actively and enthusiastically collect: the Traditional Man o’ War, and Western Prancing Horse, a Resist Dapple Gray named … Lucky!

(Is that dappling in his mane? Gosh, I hope so.)

The Western Prancing Horse was the second or third model in my collection, after the Man o’ War: I received both a Pacer and the Western Prancing Horse the following Christmas, but I don’t remember which box I opened first.

(Hey, it was a long time ago. How long? He is a Chalky Smoke.)

Aside from Test Colors – which are not too scarce on this mold, just expensive – the Western Prancing Horse is not a difficult mold to collect. It’s not without its challenges: the Black Pinto is a little rare, there are multiple variations of the Black Leopard Appaloosa that might drive you crazy, and Chalkies of both the Smoke and Palomino are very pricey.

The only one that could qualify as a true “Grail” piece would be the Chestnut, a model so scarce that I didn’t even bother putting it on my want list to begin with. And then he happened:

The best kinds of grails are the ones that never even make it to your want list.

Stablemates Grail #2

Today was a day full of indignities.

First thing this morning: I had to spend an hour trapped in a voice mail system trying to get a problem resolved. Awesome way to start my day, especially since I’m somewhat telephonophobic. If there’s any way to resolve something without resorting to the phone, I’m going to do it, but that was not possible in this situation.

The problem was fixed, at least, but the day continued rolling downhill. Then I logged on to Blab to see everyone hyperventilating over the latest Exclusive Breyer Event. What’s with all the freaking out by everybody about everything lately? Flurry, Icicle, the Indian Pony, the Tractor Supply SR…

Chill out people, seriously. Take a deep breath and go back to making pumpkin pies for Turkey Day. (If anyone needs a spare, Mom made three. They're worth the drive!)

Okay, all the downer stuff is out of the way - onto Stablemates Grail #2, something that was hitherto unavailable to me not because of a lack of funds, but because I wasn’t sure any existed at all:

The #7100 Wooden Stablemates Stable, from 1976. Still in the original box - with the original instructions!

For years I assumed this item - and the corresponding Traditional Wood Stable - didn’t even exist. I never saw one for sale anywhere, I knew no one who had one, and it doesn’t even appear in any of the 1976 price lists that I’ve seen or own. I thought it, like the notorious Breyer Rider Gift Set (the one with the first Palomino Adios) was never formally released, or released in such small numbers that it might as well have never existed at all.

It does appear on some early Bentley Sales Discontinued Lists, such as this one from December 1978:

(If I remember correctly, this was the same sales list that I ordered a Red Roan Running Mare off of, funded by accumulated allowance and unspent lunch money. It was sold by the time my money reached them, so I ended up with a credit of $6.50, which I then applied to my second choice: the Special Run Solid Black Mustang, who was the same price. Yes, I suck.)

The average price of a Traditional Horse then was 5.99, and a Stablemate was 1.49, so 14.50 for a Stable was wicked expensive. I could buy two Traditionals and at least one Stablemate with that kind of money. Twice as much, for the Traditional Stable. So buying it back then never crossed my mind. Horses, and lots of them, that's what I was aiming for!

Years later, looking back at those sales lists, I just assumed that these Wood Stables were never officially released to the retail market. Whatever little stock they did manufacture was probably offered to mail order companies like Bentley Sales to unload, discreetly.

That was pretty much Standard Operating Procedure back then, actually. Whatever odds and ends Breyer had knocking around their warehouse, outfits like Bentley Sales would pick up. (Literally, in the Bentleys’ case!) Recently, or not so recently discontinued stock, Christmas catalog overruns, leftovers from live show special runs or promotions, whatever.

This particular Stable is stamped on the outside with the address for Mission Supply House, not Bentley Sales. I don’t know what that means: was it shipped to and then purchased from Mission Supply House, or did Mission Supply House have a role in its manufacture?

I say that because the paper that the various stable parts are still wrapped in is from Florida - and oddly, dated from 1974. (Anyone want a 1969 Pontiac Bonneville? Only $988!) It could just be a coincidence - someone opening the package, decided it wasn’t worth the effort, and then rewrapping it and putting it away somewhere.

Yet the notion of Breyer subcontracting the manufacture of things that did not need to be painted or molded was not farfetched, even at that early a date. That’s definitely something I’m going to have to do some research on.

As to why this item didn’t/couldn't sell, the contents of the box told the tale: knotty wood, stapled leather hinges, and unfinished edges? It was so NOT worth it. It makes the corrugated cardboard stable look posh in comparison.

The Bentleys Discontinued Lists that I have list the Stablemates Stable as late as 1981; the Traditional one, it's gone by Spring 1979. That doesn't necessarily mean anything in terms of quantity - 100 and 200 piece Special Runs lingered on these lists for months or even years - and the nature of the product led me to believe that those few that once did exist were no more. I was happy to be proven wrong.

Stablemates Grail #1

Tying up some loose ends today - literally, as in I’m trying to finish tying/tufting a wool comforter project by weekend’s end. It’s not hard, just tedious, but it’s been unfinished far too long. I want it done and gone from my mind, and from the craft closet.

It’s also been colder than heck the past couple of days, and I could really use a "new" comforter that’s less temperamental (and immovable) than the dog.

So anyway, the latest grail arrived today - and here it is, in all its glory:

A #3085 Stablemates & Stable Gift Set: new in box, with the original shrinkwrap! I’ve only been wanting this since it came out in 1976; Santa cheaped out on me that year and only got me the Cardboard Stable, which I still have - fully assembled and now housing my miniscule collection of Stablemates customs.

Alas, a lot of other hobbyists apparently didn’t get one either, so locating an affordable set - until this week - was an impossibility. I had already acquired the horses separately, years ago, before they became too pricey.

The only problem with this set is the fact that it is still shrinkwrapped. While that is a huge boon to its value, it is problematic for me from a research standpoint: if I remove the wrapper to inspect and document the contents, there goes some of the value.

(And yes, that’s an original price sticker on the shrink wrap, too. I’ll spare you a bit of suffering and not let you know what that price is. It even made me wince, and I’m not generally a wincer.)

I’m not usually one who’s big on the "mint in box" thing, but being a vintage Stablemates grail that I’ve only been looking for for most of my life, I’m thinking I’ll have to make an exception here. (BTW, it wasn't super-expensive, either, but if the opportunity presents itself...)

Research problems aside, this fills a big hole in my vintage, pre-Reeves Stablemates collection; I still need the Silverplated Saddlebred, the Poop Paperweight, the holiday mail-order ones in the illustrated shipper boxes, and various assorted Chalkies. All just as, or even more hard-to-come-by as an unopened Stablemates & Stable Gift Set.

However, in my next post, I’ll reveal the other recent Stablemates grail acquisition that is arguably even rarer than any of those.

And when you see it, you’ll understand why.

1984 JAH ASBW

My schedule is going to get extremely weird over the next few days - I might be disappearing for four or five days next week - thus explaining all the multiple quick postings here this week.

Since I’ve been on a Saddlebred kick lately, let’s talk about my original Holy Grail model: the 1984 Just About Horses Saddlebred Weanling. I say original, because I’ve long since acquired the rude little beast that vexed me so:

The ASBW was the very first JAH Special, and as you nay have expected, the execution didn’t go quite as well as intended. You think Reeves messes up the sale and distribution of special run models now? Ladies, gentlemen, hobbyists of all persuasions: nothing beat the magnitude of messed-up-ness of the first JAH Special.

Most of us hobbyists back then were at the whim of the postal service when it came to getting our notification about Special Runs and such, and if your JAH happened to be late, no horse for you. And since most of us received our news in monthly allotments via our model horse newsletters of choice, we wouldn’t have necessarily known they were late until much later. Several weeks, if not months later.

The other big problem?  The order form itself: believe it or not, it wasn’t limited to one per customer or one per address. You could order as many as you wanted to - and allegedly, some people did.

So those of us who received our Just About Horses late (three weeks, as I discovered in my case) probably shouldn’t have been surprised when we received our money back a few weeks after that, with a letter informing us of the incredibly quick sellout.

I was not a happy camper.

It was the first instance of me writing a very angry letter to Peter Stone. I remember sitting at my portable typewriter, banging at the keys so hard I probably broke a couple of nails. (Pre-computer, dearies. Might have even been pre-electric. Yes, I am old.) Some cussing may have been involved; honestly, I can’t remember, because I didn’t bother to make a carbon copy of my angry missive.

Shortly afterward, the prices on the JAH ASBW went through the roof: within a few years, they were fetching anywhere from $250 to $400 - in late 1980s money! For a model with a 1000 piece run!

Yeah, I wasn’t going to buy it for that kind of money. That was crazy. So I didn’t.

I waited. And waited. And waited. Until the prices finally hit my comfort zone on eBay, somewhere in the $100 range.

The best part of waiting is that the model I finally got came with an… interesting pedigree. For confidentiality’s sake I can’t give away all the details about the transaction, except to say that there might be some actual significance to his serial number, which happens to be #0002.

The auction didn't mention any of those details when I bid on her. It was just that both the time and the price were right on that particular piece, and I got lucky.

Mr. Right

I have been beset by many minor (and not so) annoyances over the past week. I broke my sewing machine, deer ate most of my Morning Glory seedlings, I’ve had a sinus headache for the past several days, and Vita got a boo-boo. (Nothing serious, just a torn-off toenail.)

And work? Let’s not talk about it. (The same problem I’ve been having for over a year. It just refuses to stay "solved".)

Not "winning" a Magnus doesn’t even rate. I sort of figured I wouldn’t be getting one anyway. Plus, this beautiful boy arrived the other day and made all my grievances fall away, at least temporarily:

I’ve been looking for a "premium" Man o’ War - with the eyewhites, gray hooves, sticker et al - for longer than some of you have been alive. Theoretically, he’s not an exceptionally hard model to locate, but I was always two steps behind, two dollars short, or two minutes too late.

And then, I wasn’t.

So my holiest of "Holy Grails" is finally here - not perfect mint, but close enough - and I don’t know quite what to do with myself. Well, obviously I’ll be needing a new "Holy of Holies", but besides that?

It feels all weird and anti-climatic. Not bad - because now I finally have my "Mr. Right" - but unfamiliar. Like I said, I’ve been wanting him forever, and now the epic quest that lingered in the background of my hobby career has ended.

I wish his arrival had been a little more epic than the journey that preceded it: I found a box lot on eBay, I placed a bid. I woke up the next morning and was shocked to find that I actually won it - at a price significantly less than my upper limit. I briefly hyperventilated, did a Snoopy Dance, then paid for the lot. The end.

The rest of the items in the lot weren’t too shabby, either, though most of them will be heading for my sales list, once I do a little minor cleanup work on them (dust, dirt, and a few marks). They’re all solid, collection-worthy vintage pieces I just happen to already own. 

Based on an odd pieces in this lot - that I will be discussing in my next post - I have reason to believe that this auction might have been one of those fabled "employee lots" that collectors dream about finding. If that’s the case, that makes my latest Man o’ War even more special.

Stripes

I finally found one of my most coveted grails:


It’s the #154 "Bay" Blanket Pony of the Americas, with the factory striped hooves. It’s the version that appears in the Dealer’s Catalog and Collector’s Manual in 1979, the year it was released, as well as on the original version of the box it came in (which I also have, but can’t find at the moment.) Here it is in the Dealer's Catalog:


This is what a more typical Bay POA looks like, with dark gray-brown or black hooves:


You’ll notice that the color appears to be different too - it’s definitely darker and richer in the striped hoof version, with darker splash spotting. However, I haven’t seen enough of these variations to tell if this is an actual characteristic of this particular paint job, or a consequence of the natural variation that occurs over the length of production.

I had’t noticed much variation in the paint job of the Bay POAs before, but I it’s also true that that’s not the first thing I’ve been looking for when I’ve been looking at them. It’s those darn hooves that have transfixed me ever since I saw them on the darn box, ca. 1979. The Bay POA that came in that box - the same non-striped one you see above - was by no means deficient qualitatively, but it wasn’t the one I really wanted. I wanted the one with those cute little striped toes!

After several years of looking, I had become convinced that the striped hoof versions were, like so many other items seen in the catalogs and manuals of the times, preproduction or test pieces that were either long gone, or now beyond my reach. Those striped hooves, I reasoned, must have been deemed a detail that was deemed too fussy, or funny-looking, or too expensive for long-term production.

Then eBay came along, and I started seeing just enough of them to convince me that they may have been a legitimate - albeit very briefly issued - variation. Or possibly used on the original salesman’s sample pieces: I have noticed that salesman’s samples do seem to turn up on eBay with a greater frequency than normal, due to the very nature of the site.

In either case, I realized that my "grail" wasn’t completely unattainable.

Alas, I wasn’t the only one who was looking, apparently. I always got outbid or outmaneuvered, until now. Now I can exhale, and find another possibly-not-unattainable grail to obsess over now.

Defining Things

Went back to the book sale on Monday for the "by the box" sale. I can now safely say that I my book stash is now fully stuffed.

It’s mostly dollar-table stuff, but I generally do pretty well with that. People might hesitate a bit on fifty dollar horses, but not on fifty cent Scholastic paperbacks. Fifty cents here, a dollar there - it all adds up. (Why yes, I do roll my pennies and deposit them in the bank. What, don’t you?)

I’ve been thinking about the term "Grail" a lot in the past couple of days. I don’t have any philosophical or etymological problems with it, the way I do with other hobbyist terms. (Nobody who owns more than a dozen models actually "congas" them, "Congo" is a country in Africa, and hobbiest is NOT A WORD AT ALL. And while I’m on a tear here, may I point out that definitely and defiantly are NOT different spellings of the same word?)

I am a little troubled by its overuse, however. Everything everyone has ever wanted for more than five minutes becomes a "Grail." If you can turn around and get a Grail within six months of it being released in the first place, or with a very large application of money, it’s not a Grail. It’s just something that was on your want list.

When I think of Grails, I think of quests that are years in the making. Models that may not necessarily be "rare," but always seem to elude your grasp, no matter what you do. (And some of the things they make you do are exceedingly stupid.) They taunt you, revealing themselves (casually) in the hands of your nemeses. They walk into your room at BreyerFest in the arms of someone who purchased it in the room next door. (The one you hadn’t had time to visit yet.)

They elude you so that you question whether you’ll ever own them. They make you question if you’re even worthy of owning them. They make you wonder whether the pursuit is even worth all the anguish it's caused you. They make you cry - and make you feel stupid for crying.

Those are Grails.

A Grail is not a singular thing: the heart can hold many different desires. I can rattle off at least a half dozen Grails of my own, each a unique little ache:

• Traditional Man o War with eyewhites, battleship gray hooves, and a sticker
• A Presentation Series piece (doesn’t matter which one)
• A Vintage Decorator (ditto)
• Woodgrain Polled Hereford Bull Lamp
• The Ford Pinto Family Foal
• The 1980s SR Black Blanket Appaloosa POA

The odds of me finding these models via another hobbyist - or at BreyerFest - are exceedingly remote. Oh, some of them will be "available" eventually, but not at a price I can afford (the spare change thing? I really do that.)

I have to depend on lucky strikes on eBay, or at the flea market, and occasionally on the hubris - or outright ignorance - of other hobbyists. This is where the research helps: it’s so much easier to find and acquire rare and wonderful things before everyone else realizes how rare and wonderful they are, too.

Or after everyone has moved on to the latest, trendiest things. I am so glad that I managed to get all the Traditional Man o’ Wars that I’ve got, for instance, before he became cool again. (Didn’t see that one coming, honestly, but glad to have y’all join the party.)

On a Grail

I must have been the only one standing in line for the book sale that didn’t have a scanner, but I did all right in spite of my "handicap"; even after I factor out the keepers, I should be able to at least double my money on what I found. Mission to replenish my book "sales stash" accomplished.

(It also made up for today’s trip to the flea market, which was a washout - literally. Eh, we needed the rain.)

It’s been a busy three days: cleaned out my closets, finished two mini quilts, read two books, reorganized my quilting binders ("Must Do", "Might Do", and "Good Ideas") and packed up some sales items. If I hadn’t slept in this morning, I probably would have baked a batch of cookies, just for kicks.

A couple of bad incidents have made me focus my attentions on anything but the horses. One appears to be a tirekicker with negligible reading skills; at least I have only one more day of waiting before it goes to the next person on the wait list. (Note to self: change tirekicking policy to a three day maximum, not seven.)

The second incident was me being exceptionally stupid: I hesitated on a Buy It Now on eBay, with fatal consequences. The price wasn’t bad, but after paying out all the money I’ve had to in the past couple of weeks, I made a now incomprehensible decision to bid, instead of buy outright.

The auction got canceled a couple hours later, then relisted.

I was momentarily relieved (ah, it wasn’t auction interference!) But then realized then and there that I had already "lost" the auction, well before it was over. Sniping software was irrelevant: what I could afford to pay pales in comparison to what others can, and surely others would see what I saw.

And they did.

And I was sniped, with three seconds to go, with nary a creeper bid in sight.

It was a Chicago employee lot. With one of my grails in it. An item that I had been sniped before on, about ten years ago. Gah! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Sometimes I wonder about the wisdom of sharing my wisdom via this blog. Why create more (unnecessary?) competition for myself? Every time I give away another "secret," I know it means I’ll be paying for it in ways like this.

But then I see hobbyists making very, very dumb decisions based on bad information, and my desire to correct it - to have them make a decision based on good data, not bad - overrides my own desire to succeed as a hobbyist. If you’re going to spend money foolishly, it might as well be for right reasons.

And I also feel a little bit guilty because I have such a huge informational advantage, and I’d hate to be seen as taking too much of an advantage (or profit) in that. I always forget that there are other hobbyists who do not have that compunction. (Indeed, as some of you have seen in the NPOD, some seem completely unburdened by it.)

I still do okay, in spite of myself.

Nevertheless, I’ll be beating myself up for months over that hesitation.