@MagpulPony
My uncle collected firearms as investments, but now that he’s gone I can’t imagine parting with them. They’re such stunning memories of time with him. My cousins will have to figure out what to do with them, but I suspect their kids will be inheriting them, too.
It’s odd to have things that are such a part of life, that also have such monetary value to others. On one hand, here is this thing that is so much a part of growing up. And on the other hand, here’s this thing that is worth so much it’s hard to figure out how to justify owning it when we might be able to pay off part of the farm if we sold it.
But … it’s like they’re heirlooms. A hundred years from now if they’re still in the family then what value would they have to whomever inherits them?
I’m glad I’m not my cousins. What to do with collections like my uncle had are not an easy thing to decide. My dad didn’t collect as much, but I still inherited enough from him that I’ve got my own puzzle to unravel.
One of the oddest parts (maybe … not sure how others feel about stuff like this) of his collection was pistols that were featured in the Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns. Talk about cherished objects of art … they’re stunning and exquisite, and more fun to shoot than anything I’ve ever held. Wood polished by use, perfect fit and function (plus all the excitement and ‘ok, what happens next’ you can sometimes get with black-powder revolvers). Whatever their monetary value, they mean so much more because of the memories associated with them.
How do you weigh something that’s been such an important part of growing up against its monetary value? And the generation coming after has such a different opinion of firearms … so when I die, who gets them then when no one in the next generation even wants them and has so little experience with them? It’s a real puzzle.
Maybe it’s time to take some nephews hunting …
