Got this e-mail from a dear friend. As some know, we’re dealing with the theft of a valuable patch that occurred at a recent trade-o-ree. Something like this puts it back in perspective. For all of our friends in the hobby, this is for you from us….

3900 Saturdays-

    The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it’s the unbounded joy of not having to be at work.  Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the garage with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time.

Let me tell you about it.

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net. Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind; he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whomever he was talking with something about ‘a thousand marbles.’ I was intrigued and stopped t o listen to what he had to say.       

‘Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you’re busy with your job. I’m sure they pay you well but it’s a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. It’s too bad you missed your daughter’s dance recital’ he continued. ‘Let me tell you something that has helped me keep my own priorities.’ And that’s when he began to explain his theory of a ‘thousand marbles.’       

You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years.’      

Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime. Now, stick with me, Tom, I’m getting to the important part.  It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail’, he went on, ‘and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy.  So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside a large, clear plastic container right here in the shack next to my gear.’ Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away. I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life.’ ‘There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight.’       

‘Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure that if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time.’  

It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. This is a 75 Year old Man, K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!’        

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter.       

Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. ‘C’mon honey, I’m taking you and the kids to breakfast.’ ‘What brought this on’ she asked with a smile.’ ‘Oh, nothing special, it’s just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids. And hey, can we stop at a toy store while we’re out? I need to buy some marbles.’ ;      

A friend sent this to me, so I to you, my friend.        

And so, as one smart bear once said…’If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.’ - Winnie the Pooh.       

Pass this on to all of your FRIENDS, even if it means sending it to the person that sent it to you.  And if you receive this e-mail many times from many different people, it only means that you have many FRIENDS.           

And if you get it but once, do not be discouraged for you will know that you have at least one good friend…      

And that would be ME.  

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Received this from fellow collector Nick DeMarco. It reminds us to be thankful for our blessings not just during this season but throughout the year. Happy holidays to all!

THE CHRISTMAS SCOUT

by Sam Bogan

In spite of the fun and laughter, 13-year old Frank Wilson was not happy.
It was true he had received all the presents he wanted. And he enjoyed
the traditional Christmas Eve reunions with relatives for the purpose of
exchanging gifts and good wishes.

But, Frank was not happy because this was his first Christmas without
his brother, Steve, who during the year, had been killed by a reckless
driver. Frank missed his brother and the close companionship they had
together.

Frank said good-bye to his relatives and explained to his parents that
he was leaving a little early to see a friend; and from there he could
walk home. Since it was cold outside, Frank put on his new plaid jacket. It
was his FAVORITE gift. He placed the other presents on his new sled.
Then Frank headed out, hoping to find the patrol leader of his Boy
Scout troop. Frank always felt understood by him. Though rich in
wisdom, he lived in the Flats, the section of town where most of the poor lived,
and his patrol leader did odd jobs to help support his family.
To Frank’s disappointment, his friend was not at home.

As Frank hiked down the street toward home, he caught glimpses of
trees and decorations in many of the small houses. Then, through one
front window, he glimpsed a shabby room with limp stockings hanging
over an empty fireplace. A woman was seated nearby … weeping.

The stockings reminded him of the way he and his brother had always
hung theirs side by side. The next morning, they would be bursting with
presents. A sudden thought struck Frank — he had not done his “good
deed” for the day. Before the impulse passed, he knocked on the door.

“Yes? the sad voice of the woman asked. “May I come in?” asked Frank.
“You are very welcome,” she said, seeing his sled full of gifts, and
assuming he was making a collection, “but I have no food or gifts for
you. I have nothing for my own children.”

“That’s not why I am here,” Frank replied. “Please choose whatever
presents you would like for your children from the sled.” “Why, God
bless you!” the amazed woman answered gratefully.

She selected some candies, a game, the toy airplane and a puzzle.
When she took the Scout flashlight, Frank almost cried out. Finally,
the stockings were full.

“Won’t you tell me your name?” she asked, as Frank was leaving.
“Just call me the Christmas Scout,” he replied.

The visit left Frank touched, and with an unexpected flicker of joy in
his heart. He understood that his sorrow was not the only sorrow in the
world. Before he left the Flats, he had given away the remainder of his
gifts. The plaid jacket had gone to a shivering boy.

Now Frank trudged homeward, cold and uneasy. How could he explain to
his parents that he had given his presents away?

“Where are your presents, son?” asked his father as Frank entered the
house. Frank answered, “I gave them away.” “The airplane from Aunt Susan?

Your coat from Grandma? Your flashlight? We thought you were happy with your gifts.”

“I was very happy”, the boy answered quietly.

“But Frank, how could you be so impulsive?” his mother asked. “How
will we explain to the relatives who spent so much time and gave so much
love shopping for you?” His father was firm. “You made your choice,
Frank. We cannot afford any more presents.”

With his brother gone, and his family disappointed in him, Frank
suddenly felt dreadfully alone. He had not expected a reward for his
generosity, for he knew that a good deed always should be its own
reward. It would be tarnished otherwise. So he did not want his gifts back;
however he wondered if he would ever again truly recapture joy in his life. He
thought he had this evening, but it had been fleeting. Frank thought of
his brother, and sobbed himself to sleep.

The next morning, he came downstairs to find his parents listening to
Christmas music on the radio. Then the announcer spoke:
“Merry Christmas, everybody! The nicest Christmas story we have this
morning comes from the Flats. A crippled boy down there has a new sled
this morning, another youngster has a fine plaid jacket, and several
families report that their children were made happy last night by gifts
from a teenage boy who simply called himself the Christmas Scout. No
one could identify him, but the children of the Flats claim that the
Christmas Scout was a personal representative of old Santa Claus himself.”

Frank felt his father’s arms go around his shoulders, and he saw his
mother smiling through her tears. “Why didn’t you tell us? We didn’t
understand. We are so proud of you, son.”

The carols came over the air again filling the room with music
“…Praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on Earth.”

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For the past week or two I am receiving e-mails that I am sure is a phishing scam that I want to worn you about. A phishing scam is an e-mail that pretends to be something else that through some means tries to get you to reveal certain personal information that can lead to an identity theft. eBay continues to have problems with this. So does PayPal as well as most major banks.

This new approach is different though. The e-mails look like you have signed up for some web-site and it is asking you to confirm your free membership. Here’s one example I just received (with details blanked out so you can’t go to a bogus site.) My recommendation is DO NOT register with these sites. Unless it is a site you asked to register with, we have registration to receive information for example, do not register.

From: Funny-Files

To:

Sent: Wednesday, August 22, 2007 8:29 PM

Subject: Secure Registration

New Member,

Welcome To Funny-Files.

Member Number: 34913845398214
Temorary Login: userabcd
Your Password ID: wxyz

This Login Info will expire in 24 hours. Please Change it.

Click on the secure link or paste it to your browser: Funny-Files (this is a hidden web-link in the original e-mail.)

Thank You,
Confirmation Dept.
Funny-Files

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That’s the headline for this week’s Special Double Issue of U.S. News and World Report magazine. The magazine goes on to say:

“Every decade, it seems, contains a single year that epitomizes its era. The Depression had 1933; the Sixties, 1968. In the Fifties, it was 1957, the year of the pill, Sputnik, Dr. Seuss, Little Rock, and more. Half a century later, U.S. News takes a look back.”

I find it interesting that U.S. News, an independent and objective news organization, saw fit to recognize that specific year. As their cover states,

The Pill - Sputnik - Dr. Seuss - Little Rock - The Edsel - and More

Having just celebrated my 50th birthday, they really didn’t have to make it a Special Double Issue but it was nice that they did. I’m quite certain that I don’t deserve cover credit but I guess the editors thought differently. I’ll have to open it up and see what they have to say.

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That’s my position and I’m sticking with it. That is, that 50 years old is the new 30 years old.

How do I get there? Well, first I’m coming up to my 50th birthday so it brings it to top of mind. Second, a recent comment from my wife about having our son come and visit from California brought it out.

The situation: I was going over airline booking options with my step-son. He chose a morning flight that gets into Michigan in the afternoon. The other option was a red-eye that would get in first thing in the morning. He chose the morning departure/afternoon arrival. His mom though, upon hearing this, said “He’s young, why doesn’t he take the red-eye?” This would give my wife more time to visit with him although he’d be pretty wiped out from the travel/time-zone change. I replied, he’s not so young. She said, yes he is. He’s under 30. To which I replied, I’d have made the same choice as him and I’m almost 50. Thus the observation that 50’s the new 30. It certainly was funny to me at the time to me, maybe you had to be there, especially as my wife beat me to 50 (only slightly).

But, in further reflection, there is more to this than just spousal jousting. Demographic changes and life expectancies make this a more true statement than ever before. When Social Security was first implemented with retirement benefits set at age 65 the ‘dirty little secret’ was that most people did not live much past age 65. Thus there really wasn’t much of a benefit. Thus at age 30, one had 35 to 38 years left of life expectancy.

Compare that to now. I was talking with my brother’s father-in-law a week ago. He’s 73. He’s been told by the IRS, due to having to draw on his 401K, that he has a life expectancy of another 27 years or an even 100. That’s a median expectancy! Half the people his age now will live longer than 27 years according to the IRS.

So back to my thesis that 50 is the new 30. At the start of Social Security circa the late 1930s, one could expect to live another 35 years. Come forward to the 2000s and at age 50 my life expectancy is another 28 years according to the Social Security Administration. Not quite 35 but its not 15 either.

How is this related to collecting? We will be collectors for much longer than we might realize. We will have a much longer period to pursue our hobbies. We will have more extended retirement period than our parents or grandparents and thus more free time to pursue our hobbies.

After we handled Bernie Miller’s collections, I recall collectors asking why was Bernie still collecting when they saw him at trade-o-rees? I simply told them that although he sold off most of his collections, he didn’t die. He sold his main collections at age 74. He lived another 10 years. Why shouldn’t he have kept collecting? Its what he and Rita enjoyed amongst other things.

So besides, ‘50 is the new 30′ there is an underlying message about our hobby and collecting. It is quite reasonable to assume that folks will collect much longer than they used to and that there is a real opportunity to bring in new collectors who are in retirement phases of life. They are out there. I see it from some of the questions and information sharing during our auctions or other e-mails. We need to think how to reach these folks and how to welcome them into the hobby.

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Well it’s finally happened, the babies have arrived. The past few weeks we’ve had a mother killdeer running a little maternity ward right here in our parking lot. They just dig a little hole right in the gravel, don’t build a nest like most birds do.

I’d been checking on her about every day and when I looked a couple days back she had two little ones hatched out of the four eggs and another one looked to be breaking out. All four finally hatched and they’re gone from the nest now. They fledge real fast, being ground nesting birds, the little ones are on their feet and running around within a few days. The babies are marked up just like the adults but are tiny, not much bigger than a fat bumblebee. The little ones look comical, they remind me of a grey cotton ball with long skinny legs when you see them running around.

The hen kept me entertained for days. Whenever I’d go out to check on her she’d put on the big show of having a broken wing trying to draw me off. As many times as I’d looked in on her you’d think she’d get used to it but it was the same acting job every time.

Feel free to send any gifts for the new mother via us here at The Scout Patch Auction and we’ll make sure she gets them. I’d imagine boxes of crickets or a tub of fishing worms would be much appreciated.

Destry

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In my web-searching, I came across this article from Scouting magazine that the BSA has posted to the web. This is a great idea! Collectors in councils should be promoting these types of displays or having similar displays at Scout-o-ramas, summer camps, camporees, etc..

Here’s the link: Preserving the past, Enriching the Future

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This was the invocation at my Rotary meeting last week. This being Monday and all, I felt it worth repeating (I know its not patches but we can cover other things here as well.)

“So far today, God, I’ve done all right. I haven’t lost my temper, haven’t been greedy, nasty or self-centered. I am really proud of myself. But in a few minutes, God, I’m really going to need some help, because then I am going to get out of bed.”

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For several years we maintained a blog but it got hacked by Russian spam-masters and our ISP took it down. Many have asked me to re-instate a blog because they enjoyed some of the finds we’ve made over the years. Well, hopefully with better software now we can re-start blogging. I’ve been told I can import my old blog in but I’ll have to see how to do this.

Also, this software makes it easier for folks to add comments. We can all learn from each other.

This site is for and about the hobby of collecting Boy Scout and Girl Scout memorabilia. The Scout Patch Auction is the largest dealer of Scouting memorabilia and have been for more than a decade. Although we specialize in rare and premium Scouting collectibles, we try to offer a broad range of items for all levels of collecting. Besides trying to develop greater knowledge and understanding of Scouting memorabilia, we want folks to have fun with their hobby. Hopefully we are a part of that. Please let us know how we’re doing and what we can do better.

Roy

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