Butterflies, Balloons, Ladybugs and Lighthouses

June 27, 1998

I'm convinced collectors are born not made. Benjamin collects lighthouses. He has about 30 now. Some are knick knacks or what we call conversation pieces. Some are candles, some are lamps. They are to "look at," he says as he describes his display and gingerly hands one to me for a closer look. He talks about each with knowledge that comes from curiosity and having questions answered. He was two when the fascination began; he's five now. Lighthouses are his "logo." Whether it's shirts, lunchboxes or beach towels -- Ben's are the ones with the lighthouse. From age two!

My husband collects clocks. Oh, not on T-shirts or beach towels, but on every wall -- at every turn. He denies that he collects them. Rather, he says: "Ya hafta know what time it is, dontcha?" Well, that's true. But I don't have to "hear" what time it is 24 hours a day. Mind you, John has a system. Each clock is set a minute behind another so on the hour they chime separately. First we hear the one imitating Westminster, then the ship's bells, then perhaps more ordinary chimes. So ordinary that if I say "the clock struck one," you'll know how the chimes went.

Oh, did I say chimes? That's rather generic, don't you think? We don't have chimes per se, we have the cuckoo clock from the Black Forest of Bavaria. Continuing in the bird world, we now have the bird clock from Hammacher Schlemmer where each hour is heralded by the song of a bird. These time-telling bird calls are not to be counted. They are to be identified. At noon, we hear the House Finch; at 5:00, it's the Tufted Titmouse. If you don't know a finch from a titmouse, you don't know what time it is at our house.

The instruction manual urged care to ensure the correct bird melody is heard for each hour. Of course, I don't know if John exercised such care. I don't happen to know a finch from a titmouse!

Hammacher Schlemmer just came out with the same clock with cats meowing on the hour. You've got the picture: cats ... birds. Fortunately, all meowing cats sound alike. So, if I have to identify the hour by listening to a couple of Kilkenny cats, I'll say "John, I'm really gonna clean your clock."

People collect elephants but only with trunk up -- for goodluck. They search bazaars and flea markets for carved elephants, ivory elephants, even rare ivory elephants -- but, if the trunk is down they won't consider it. Who started this?

I started a bell collection for a daughter who has a family middle name: Bell. She hated them the bells. I kept buying them in airport shops as I zipped in and out of cities on work assignments. I thought if the collection became large enough, she'd love them. She hated them. I started getting one from each state and then each province in Canada. She still hated them. Collecting is a personal thing.

I met someone who was covered with ladybugs. She had ladybug earrings, a pin on her blazer, a tiny ladybug adorning her watch and a larger one pinned to her purse. Turns out her name is Lanie and as a baby "Lanie Bug" stuck. It certainly did. Ladybug is her logo.

Neighbor Betty wears butterfly pins, lockets, earrings and bracelets. She writes on butterfly paper and carries a butterfly checkbook and writes butterfly checks. Betty is not weird; Betty's logo is a butterfly.

Suzanne's logo is a rainbow. She wears rainbow pins, scarves and earrings. Her windsock is a rainbow. Her welcome mat is an "arc of many colors."

When they were in highschool, my daughters avoided grabbags. "I don't need another unicorn!" Everyone collected unicorns but our girls hated them.

Maryanne collects mice. Her mice are cute with aprons and bonnets. They are displayed as figurines, refrigerator magnets and toothbrush holders.

I've asked people why they like certain things and almost without exception they say: "Because they make me happy to look at them." I asked Tricia at lunch today what her logo is. She said she didn't have one. So, I pursued it. "Well, what makes you happy when you see it?" She smiled slowly and said: "A black velvet tray at Tiffany's filled with white diamonds... and I get to choose which one." She knows her logo when she sees it ... sparkle.

My granddaughter, Maggie, said: "My logo is Beanie Babies because they make me happy." Although she has 75 of them and wants them all, she's not preserving them as collectors' items. Whether alone or with friends, the only thing to do is make up games and situations for little stuffed animals. That makes her happy.

Her mother is the one who hated her collection of bells and grew up never collecting anything. With that wonderful 20-20 vision of hindsight, I wonder this: Could it be the bells didn't make her happy because each one represented my being away for three days? Could there be underlying reasons for collecting.?

"What makes you happy when you see it, MeMe?" asked Maggie, interrupting my psychological assessment of why the bells didn't go over.

"Hey, who's doing the interviewing here?" I joked. But, still at lunch, Tricia and Maggie pressed me for an answer..

"Well, " I said, I really do smile when I see a great big bunch of balloons in all the primary colors. I don't like the silver mylar ones, just ordinary round balloons. I'd like to hold them, 10 or 12 of them, filled almost to bursting with helium...."

"Hey, MeMe, you'd take off, then you could sing, 'Come Fly with Me,' couldn't you?"

"Ummm, Maggie, now that's a thought. But why would I want to fly away?"

Maggie shrugged: "Don't ask me, MeMe, it's your logo."