Greetings,
   
    A clear sign that a collector is getting older is the day when he or she utters the phrase, “We need to get the young involved.” I hear that a lot at different shows every year. So, I gave it some thought. What does a person really mean when they say this?
   
    Well, on the surface, it implies that a person feels very strongly about their hobby, and he feels others need to take it just as seriously. The best way to validate their passions is to see the interest carried on by the next generation. That seems to be a plausible line of reasoning. After all, it is how all traditions become just that—traditions.
   
    I have bored more than a few school groups with tales of the Mexican-American War and taken military vehicles to various public outings where kids could climb into the trucks, crawl behind mounted machine guns, or ride in the jeeps. However, I must confess, I didn’t do it so much because I wanted to “get the kids involved,” but rather, the stuff genuinely excites me and I am eager to share it with anyone who will listen! I guess, deep down, I am hoping that they will care about it just as much as I do.
   
    I haven’t used the “hard-sell” on the kids, though. I figure history and military material culture is a personal choice. If kids are exposed to military heritage and it sparks an interest, then they will follow the light. However, we have all seen the history teacher who can kill a kid’s interest faster than a can of Raid on Missouri fire-ants! It is a delicate sale, for sure.
   
    Having worked in living history museums for many years in the 1980s and 1990s, I saw more than my share of disinterested kids. However, there were always a handful who came forward and asked good questions. It was clear the spark had been ignited deep inside of them. I wonder if any of those kids are fanning those flames today?

“Get the Kids Involved”: A Missed Opportunity
   
    Last February, as I was tearing down my booth at a major show (believe me, I have learned my lesson about mentioning which show!), I witnessed a curious flip-flop on the “we have to get the kids involved” attitude. Oblivious to the balancing act I was performing with boxes, swords, helmets on a two-wheeled car, a fellow dealer accosted me, “I think is deplorable that the show shuts down early on Sunday!” he bellowed. I replied, “I am just a dealer like you...I have no say in the show hours.” He didn’t hear that...he had practiced this dialogue many times, and I was just the current victim. “What if a single mother wants to bring her kids to the show?” he continued. “Our hobby depends on the kids getting involved.” I muttered something about, “I wondered how many single mothers knew there was a show that weekend, and if they did...” Well, I just kept pushing my load toward the door.
   
    When I returned to get the next pile, there were three young Boy Scouts at this dealer’s table! The Scouts were there to help tear down the tables. Because this dealer was one of the last to put away his wares, he still had cool things to capture the boys’ attention. As I past the table, I heard one of the Scouts ask if he could look at a bayonet. “NO!” was the terse answer this dealer gave the kid. He then berated the kid telling him not to touch or handle things on his table.
   
    Seriously. I can’t make this stuff up! The same guy who had stopped me in my path not more than five minutes earlier to tell me how the show promoters had to keep the show open for the sake of single mothers and their kids, just shot down a legitimate sign of interest from a kid—and a Boy Scout, no less!
   
    I have thought about this episode many times since then. I have pondered if there is an implied obligation to pass on history—or if just treating each other with respect will accomplish the task without making it a campaign. If that dealer had taken the time to show the Scout the bayonet, tell him a little about it, and probably answer some questions, he could have been a hero for a moment. No special program or campaign would have been necessary...he could have just given the kid a few moments of common courtesy. Sure, he probably wouldn’t have made a sale, but at least, he would have been “getting the kids involved.”

Greetings,
   
During the drive back from the Minneapolis-St. Paul Military Relic Show, I had plenty of time to think about the hobby and about shows in general. Show promoters struggle to coordinate relic and military vehicle shows and are faced by a customer base who is going through a change in their show-going habits.
   
There once was a day I couldn't drive past an antique shop without stopping, no matter how late I was for something. It has been four years, however, since I have set foot in an antique store. Why? I do all my buying and hunting online. My network of people who "know what I like" is connected to me via cell phone and e-mail. Now, when I stop the car, it is for a quality rest room or some chicken strips.
   
Show promoters are up against the same competition. Their struggle is to deliver customers to a room full of dealers. Is there a secret formula for a successful show?
   
Now mind you, some shows, like the MAX Show, the Show of Shows or the MVPA National Conventional, have a momentum grounded in consistency and legend. The staying power of these is based, in part, on their reputation and consistencies. However, two smaller shows without the national reputations of those larger shows seem to have "cracked the code."
   
First, I have to say that Bob Johnson has figured out how to run a successful show. I have been going to Battlefield Shows since I was 18 years old. Every time I go, the dealer tables are full (all the way through Sunday afternoon!) and the aisles are full of public.
   
The other — and now I am sounding provincial because this show is in the upper Midwest as well — is the Iola Military Vehicle Show. I can attest, firsthand, that Iola is in the middle of nowhere! How could any show flourish that is at least 30 miles from the nearest four-lane road?
   
The fundamental element that makes both the Battlefield Show in the Twin Cities metro and the Iola Military Vehicle Show in the Wisconsin version of the "outback" is "piggy-backing." Granted, that term in the untamed Wisconsin woodlands might have different meanings, but I am talking about offering a multitude of entertainment choices to the customer.
   
In the Twin Cities, the relic show takes place on the State Fairgrounds at the same time as a huge antique show and similar-sized gun show. At Iola, the MV show occurs concurrently with a tractor show, a gun show and radio-controlled airplane "ballets." In both cases, the collector can spend the whole day with entertainment opportunities for the whole family. He or she doesn't need to sneak off in the early morning to go to the show and get home before noon so that some "family time" can also occur.
   
This piggy-back formula is also good for the customer: Plenty to do, food is there and the chance of spouse or kids becoming bored is minimized. The formula is good for dealers: plenty of potential customers who haven't seen your stock show after show (but you better take the time to price your stuff...It's a different generation and they aren't going to put up with your old-school method of throwing unpriced items on your table).
   
To use that corporate-speak that drove me to the hills of Missouri...it's time to offer multiple platforms to monetize your business, people (man how I hate that corporate speak!). In other words, the competition for leisure time is greater than ever. If you want people to come to shows, think in terms of the "total weekend experience" for the whole family. Give them customers, and the dealers will come.

Greetings,

Spring is here and things are turning OD. Reenactors are looking in their closets and wondering what still fits while MVers are checking fluids, charging batteries and filling tires. This is probably a good time to remind folks that these toys with which we like to play are old. And just like the old guys who play with them, they leak, tear easily and are prone to breaking.
   
Take Precautions
  
A couple of years ago, a good friend went for an impromptu tank ride. Some reenactors had an M5 light tank and had offered the assistant driver's position to him. Who would pass up that opportunity?
  
Sitting behind the .30 caliber on the right side of the hull, he couldn't resist the urge to prop himself in the open hatch as the tank clanked out of the built up area for the open fields. In the matter of one second, a series of system failures occurred that resulted in the turret turning, the 37mm barrel toppling the hatch on him  and the periscope peeling his back like a ripe apple before nearly cutting him in half.
  
The explanation of what failed is irrelevant to this tale. What is important, though, is the reminder that these things are 60 years old and systems will fail. The military relics that we all love to see, hold or use were not built to last beyond the battlefield. Just because something looks "mint" does not erase the natural erosion of time.
  
Whether you are playing with MVs or pulling on the wool, exercise some caution, folks. All the stuff is old, and I will wager, you aren't in the same shape as the 18-21 year-old GIs for whom the equipment was originally intended.