Bob Welbaum
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Recently I’ve noticed topics like “How Often Do You Go To WDW?�? and “Signs You Are a Disney Freak�? on the LaughingPlace Discussion Boards. These discussions always seem to include tales of negative reactions from family and friends, and with this I can empathize completely. I’ve found there is at least one in every family: someone who cannot seem to understand our love of Disney.

In my family, it’s my mother. Her feet are firmly grounded in reality: it’s only an amusement park, animation is for children, you shouldn’t buy something as frivolous as collectibles when people are starving in Africa, etc., etc. I’m sure you recognize the type.

Normally I can work around this negativity without too much trouble. Except…

Nineteen eighty-eight was my first NFFC Convention. Coincidentally, my parents had purchased a condominium in Dana Point, CA, south of Anaheim, as their retirement home. Since I was new to the club (and am basically cheap to begin with), I decided I would not stay in the convention hotel, the old Inn at the Park. Instead, I’d stay with them, rent a car, and drive back and forth.

This was working out reasonably well until the day of the convention’s auction. (This was a major event in the early days. Today, see eBay.) After the day’s seminars, I had returned to the condo for dinner and some quality time (after all, they are family), then left to catch the auction.

As I was leaving, since Mom is a mother, she wanted to know when I would return. Frankly, my mind was back at the Inn at the Park, so without thinking I mumbled “a couple of hours�? and took off.

It was at the auction that I found my first treasure at this convention: a five-foot by four-foot reproduction of a stylized painting of the Magic Kingdom area of Walt Disney World. One of these had hung in each room of WDW’s Contemporary Resort. They had been removed during a major renovation and been offered to cast members; one had somehow found its way into the auction.

I had seen this piece earlier in the day during the auction preview, and was caught totally unprepared. If I bid successfully, how would I pay for it? The auction didn’t take credit cards, I didn’t have an ATM card, and as a newbie I didn’t think anyone would take a check. More importantly, how would I get it home?

One miracle at a time. I had spent my lunch hour getting cash advances on my credit cards from neighborhood banks. Thus I arrived at the auction with a formidable war chest. And I was successful! I won this piece after some spirited bidding (my mind has since blocked out the purchase price). I then imposed on some of my new friends to stash the piece in their room, and happily headed back to my parent’s condo.

While I was driving back, I suddenly realized I was actually going to be gone three and a half hours. Oh, well, it really wasn’t that late, and due to the vagaries of Southern California traffic, people ran late all the time. This shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Mom met me at the door. “I was ready to call the sheriff!�?

“Uh, sorry, Mom, but I found something really great! And I did say a couple…�?

“A couple is TWO. You were gone over THREE hours…�?

As they say on the Discussion Boards: :-(

Next came the Show and Sale. And this is where I found my second treasure: a limited-edition lithograph (#434 of 495) of Carl Barks’ “Till Death Do Us Part�? featuring my favorite character Uncle Scrooge, from the series produced by Another Rainbow Publishing. For those of you unfamiliar with this piece, it’s a takeoff of the traditional Victorian family portrait, with the wife seated in a chair and the husband standing beside her. Except in the chair next to Scrooge is an enormous sack of gold dust.

I’d first seen one of these lithos at Disneyland when I was living in Garden Grove (and was, of course, a park regular). I had fallen in love with it instantly, but was initially put off by the $500 purchase price (if memory serves). By the time I had decided it was worth that much to me, the one I’d seen on display was gone.

Now here was another – at only $400! I quickly completed the deal and locked my treasure in the car (so I could spend the rest of the afternoon at a public phone with a copy of the Yellow Pages, trying to arrange for shipment of my auction piece).

I also saw this as an opportunity to win Mom over. This was a major milestone in my collecting. And a quality item, too! Surely she would see how happy I was. She had to appreciate how much this meant to me!

So I stood there in the living room, proudly holding up the lithograph, a big grin on my face. Mom stood before me, her eyes going from the litho to me, then back to the litho.

“I see,�? she mumbled at last. “And how much did this cost you?�?

“Oh, it was a real bargain! Only four hundred dollars!�?

“FOUR…�? Mom sat on the edge of the sofa with a vacant expression and didn’t speak to me for the rest of the evening.

My mother’s true feelings were really exposed the next day. I needed to return to the Inn at the Park to meet the shipper of my auction treasure, and I’d persuaded my parents to come along with the promise of doing something together afterwards.

As we were waiting in the lobby for the shipper, I happened to see Al Halpern, the NFFC’s Convention Coordinator that year. He was there on the day after, tying up all the convention’s loose ends. I introduced him to my parents, and after a quick exchange of pleasantries, he excused himself to finish his business.

As he walked away, Mom turned to me. “Now he looks normal,�? she proclaimed.

Thanks, Mom.