(Reader advisory: some immodesty herein)
Last year I wrote about the American Numismatic Association’s big annual coin show in Pittsburgh. This year’s was back in Chicago, actually nearby Rosemont, the Stephens Convention Center, a great venue. Big hotels nearby all have airport shuttles from O’Hare, and I’ve found you can just hop on any and zip quickly to Stephens.
I’d never actually been an ANA member. Non-member show admission was $10 daily. On the second morning members could also get in half an hour before the proletarians. Being a cheapskate I just blew that off and paid the ten bucks again. But afterwards that felt silly, membership would only cost $15 more. So I went sheepishly back to the desk and finally became an ANA member in my 68th year of numismatics.
It’s always neat at these things to see old friends. And customers I’ve never met in the flesh. One aging fellow looked vaguely familiar, so I squinted at his name tag and exclaimed “Douglas Andrews!” He’d been on the 1993 numismatic tour of Russia (what a grand adventure that was). Doug not only remembered me but said he loves reading my blog.
Another name tag I had to check was Steve Roach’s — he looked too young to be Steve, whom I’d met quite a few years before. He’s long written for Coin World (I’ve subscribed since 1963), and I remarked how much I enjoy his stuff. He remembered me too — and the 1916 pattern dime I’d written about acquiring, in my 1992 book on coin collecting. Steve recalled how he’d read that as a kid, and the coin seemed so cool, inspiring him in numismatics.
How gratifying. (And a book I wrote two decades earlier still, about Albany’s political machine, was recently cited as “seminal” in our local paper.)
A coin show consists of rows of tables each with a dealer offering his wares. I’ve never taken a table, viewing such shows instead as buying opportunities. We coin dealers don’t see ourselves as competitors, rather it’s a collegial fraternity.
I’ve written before about Georges Tambakopoulos from Sweden, whom I’ve known forever too. Previously he’d sold me a mess of hemidrachms from Tabaristan, in Iran, nice looking quarter sized silver coins, of which a big hoard’s been found.
Of course I’d picked carefully for quality, and made good money on them. This time he had another huge pile, cheaper, and I selected a couple hundred, including scarcer variants, in great condition.
After the show’s first day closed I met with Siamak Ahghari in his hotel room. He always has an immense stock, much great stuff, though mostly too expensive. But with effort and dickering I always buy plenty. Notable this time was a hoard of Baktrian obols, little silver portrait coins of King Eukratides I (2nd Century BC). Not cheap, but the quality was exceptional, and I took perhaps too many.
Once I finished there it was 8:30, so instead of searching for a restaurant (actually difficult in that area), I had dinner in the hotel’s eatery. Then took a cab to my motel, about a mile away; I’d have walked had the route not looked tricky. This place was much cheaper than the big posh venues. It was minimalist, a bit seedy even, but heck, I only needed to crash for one night.
It did have a TV, so I listened to some CNN panelists discussing the Tim Walz pick. A surprise to me, but he seems a terrific choice, cementing the contrast between the Democratic ticket’s honest decency and the other side’s depravity of lies. The Republicans on CNN were full of disgraceful crap; Trump’s been derangedly foaming at the mouth.
Next morning, having taken note of the cab’s route, I did return to the convention center on foot, it took just twenty minutes. Bringing with me nothing for breakfast, I stopped on the way at a Denny’s, almost like a normal person. Had an English muffin and Coke.
Back at the show, one dealer I checked was Bill Kalmbach, also of long acquaintance. Though I hadn’t seen him in years, he’d phoned me just the week before to bid (unsuccessfully) in my own coin auction. Bill too mentioned reading my blog, as a welcome antidote to the political pathology surrounding him in Texas, complimenting how I always lay things out so clearly.
As for coins, his were mostly way too rich for me. But in chatting about their wonderfulness, I mentioned particularly noticing his Mariniana sestertius. I love those big Roman bronzes. Mariniana was the wife of Valerian I (253-60 AD; captured in battle by the Persians and employed as a footstool by their king). Mariniana’s coins were all posthumous memorial issues, quite scarce in silver, much more so in bronze, and to boot this period’s bronzes were quite poorly made. I do own a great Valerian sestertius, but didn’t have one of Mariniana. Bill’s was the best I could recall ever seeing, but he had it marked a hefty $3000.
Nevertheless, I said, “Well, let me look at it.” In the hand, it was indeed darn nice. Far more of the lettering present than usual, with an exceptionally detailed portrait. Bill came down to $2100, so I bought it after all. Hardly a steal, but that price at least didn’t feel crazy, though still maybe something of a self-indulgent extravagance. I guess I love the coin more than the money.
The trip home had a layover in Detroit where I dined at P.F. Chang’s, crispy honey chicken, really delicious — especially after a long day of exertions. The final flight, delayed, arrived past midnight, but my saintly wife still picked me up, long past her usual bedtime. As I wrote in the dedication to that 1992 book, I love her even more than coins.
