FAMILY ROADSHOW WITHOUT THE ANTIQUES

The Family Roadshow is the same as the show on OPB but with livelier stories.

Instead of, “This belonged to my great-great grandmother and it’s been handed down generation after generation,” why not The Truth?

“I stole this off my grandpa at his wake,”

Or,

“This book used to be my Mom’s. She’s still looking for it. Hi, Mom. Check the bookcase in the back room.”

The Antiques Roadshow feels so prim and proper most of the time, especially when a suspicious looking man shows an appraiser their pride and joy:  

“This watch (or book or ring) was handed down from my great-grandfather. He was the owner of the ‘St. Paul Pioneer Press and Dispatch’ back in 1914, when he received this watch. And it was handed down from him to my father, and then he gave it to me.”

Family Roadshow description of the books in the top pic:

“These books were gifts from my Grandmother because she wouldn’t give me the only book I ever loved at first sight. She had an edition of the Wizard of Oz with the most beautiful pictures. We talked all about it. She was an enthusiastic talker.

“For the next ten years I got books from her for my birthday/Christmas presents, every book but the one I wanted. I was a kid and couldn’t find her edition anywhere. I like to think it was a one-of-a-kind magical edition that will never be found. Ever.”

A Ring For The Family Roadshow

The official story:

“Rings like these came from the hard work and dedication of a high school wrestling squad showing their teamwork.

Every member who hoped to earn a ring participated in activities like selling calendars and chopping firewood. The money paid for the rings.”

The activities alone became a teenage rite-of-passage.

Every night of selling calendars included a naked lady in a shower story, a naked lady in a bathrobe story, or a fully dressed naked lady ‘who would have looked like something naked’ story.

Everyone made up a naked lady story, then accused each other of peeping.

Chopping firewood brought a different thrill.

Someone’s dad knew someone who knew someone who could mark, fall, and deliver prime logs to the parking lot under the south end of the North Bend Bridge on Sundays.

The wrestling team gathered where dads sawed logs, kids chopped rounds, stacked wood into pickup trucks, and delivered it.

After the work ended one Sunday, a few kids hung around. They found a log pond and fired up the boat used to push logs around.

Later they raced their cars as fast as they could go before splashing over three long, deep, puddles.

Going through them at speed felt like galloping on a horse. Dropping down, then up, then down, then up, down then up.

If you had any holes in your floorboard and didn’t know, now you knew.

For additional provenance, this Championship Ring was the third in a row in the same weight. The first two were back-to-back, won by a side-suplexing Bulldog, then me.

As fate would have it, the ring belongs to a championship wrestler at the Family Roadshow.

Roadshow Heirloom Or Dog Pee Pad

If you haven’t had a life-changing moment that gains more clarity as years pass, as any baby boomer could tell you if they weren’t so emotionally unavailable, brace yourself.

It’s coming.

Which is how I like to think of the day I said yes to shared housing with my mother in-law.

She moved her Parkinson’s ill husband to a nearby assisted living complex and brought everything else to a new house where we would all live.

We didn’t have two cats in the yard, but it was a very fine house with a dog, then another.

I could have said no to living together, but thought of her sister in-law who was deceived in love to divorce her husband and marry her boyfriend, who would divorce his wife.

Except he didn’t follow through and they didn’t live happily ever after.

I didn’t want to meet another elderly cad zeroing in on their latest mark, which my mother in-law had been as a widow.

“This rug comes from the finest of stores in town. It’s rumored to be verrrrrrry expensive. When it was delivered they sprinkled dust on it to show how strong it was.

“After Daisy peed on it the deal closed. Perfect rug, just what we needed to pull the room together.”

2

Me: This rug will be yours one day for the Family Roadshow.

Kid: That’s the pee rug. Why would I want it?

Me: You’re thinking of the front door. That’s the pee rug.

Kid: And the carpet in the living room.

Me: I couldn’t believe the stains when I pulled it up to change.

Kid: Lots?

Me: Covered. I had to paint the floor with Kilz.

Kid: Have you spilled anything on the pee rug?

Me: What do you think? Come on. But no dog.

Kid: I’ve seen it happen.

Me: But not much, and we keep it cleaned up. Nice rug.

Kid: Don’t pee on it.

Me: I think Grandy would appreciate that.

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