LCS Gift - The Card-Well

During my last visit at my local card shop, one of the “going out of business” presents I got was a Card-Well. Initially, I was hesitant to accept this gift from the store owner. Not because I thought it was lavish, but because I saw it as a clunky piece of plastic that took up space and saved little time. I was so wrong! 

  

Check out that HOT & SEXY 1990 Donruss action!

True, it is a clunky piece of flimsy plastic, but it is like a Godsend for sorting cards. If you find yourself sorting tons of cards, you have GOT to get one of these. The Card-Well has 10 deep containers at the back of the tray for breaking cards out by 100s (or 10s if you’re sorting your 1987 Topps). In front of the 10 deep containers are 10 shallow ones, which are for sorting cards in 10s. You can also use the shallow trays to sort by individual card number once you’ve sorted by 100s and 10s. 

What’s awesome about the 10 smaller trays is that when you sort by individual card, you can tell exactly what cards you’re missing. No thumbing through a stack of cards, while fiddling with a pencil or keyboard. This way it’s simple! If the tray slot is empty, you don’t have that card…write down missing card number with free hands! 

Alright, this is starting to sound like a commercial, but it’s not. I’m just gushing about how awesome this card sorting tray is. Besides the great functionality of the tray, it comes with “directions.” I never knew I needed directions before on how to sort baseball cards...seems rather intuitive. Anyways, check out these instructions! 

The Card-Well proclaims that you will do "no more sorting on the floor, table or bed..."  So, even though you're using the Card-Well, aren't you still sorting cards on the floor, table or bed just in a tray?  Perhaps I'm supposed to spice up my sort-life by doing it on the washing machine, stairs or front porch?

Another laughable description is that the tray is "Laptop Size."  Are we talking computer laptops or lap tops?  The tray is a rather unwieldy thing, sizing in at around 2 foot by 3 feet.  I know laptops were big back in the early 90s, but not that big.  And no way is it lap top size because if it was, I'd have to be so large that I wouldn't have a lap!

Also, I am a worrier about space when it comes to my closet, so I was happy that I could just hang the Card-Well on the wall of my closet.

So, if you don't have one, check Craigslist, and you should be able to find one on-the-cheap.  Wait, what is that silver thing above the Card-Well?  Is that a shelving brace?  Hmm, I sense a future post coming about Phase II of Uncle Doc's Card Closet...

Something Stupid This Way Comes

 A few days ago, I posted a poll asking my fellow reader(s) to answer a simple question.  The potential answers were: "Do something stupid" or "Save my money."

While the poll is not officially closed, the resounding feedback was to cast caution to the wind and embrace the warm, soft glow of stupidity, in lieu of being prudent and saving some money.  What a bunch of enablers you are...Not really, I already had my mind made up when the news broke about my Local Card Shop going out of business.  

Needless to say, I've got a lot to sift through so I can share the goodies with you on this blog.  Now, don't get all worked up thinking I bought the card shop, and the blogosphere is about to burst into Card-topia.  In another life, yeah, that would have seriously been an option, but I have to play the part of a responsible adult.  Also, just in case my wife is reading this, no, I did not buy the card shop, nor their entire inventory!  Just the inventory related to baseball cards...

Regardless, it all fits in my new Card Closet, so no harm, no foul, right?  Anyways, it was an opportunity that will never, ever come my way again, so I had to strike.

And what was the damage done, you ask?  Heard the phrase "Pennies on the Dollar" before?  How about "Cards on the Penny."  I think the final card-nage was "everything not under glass" for under a Benjamin.

Alas, the whole transaction "paid" itself off in the first grab of cards of an unsorted box.  Wedged discretely in a handful of junk was a Hank Aaron, and I aint' talking no reprint.

More to come...

Poll: I Need Your Input!

My Local Card Shop is closing, should I...

Captured! - 1987 Topps

On the run for 43 days.  Brought to justice by Chunter and my Local Card Shop!

A Moment of Silence

My Local Card Shop is Dead

BREAKING NEWS

I am interrupting tonight’s scheduled post about the 2013 MLB Tournament Prizes to announce that my Local Card Shop is dead.

I had to run to the post office during lunch today, and just around the corner is my Local Card Shop.  Having some free time, I dropped in and was immediately taken aback.  There were people in the shop.  A lot of people…I counted five.  The store was packed! 

I waved at the co-owner and she waved back since she was on the phone.  I surveyed the crowd again and wondered what was happening.  Is the 2013 Topps release that popular?  Maybe, I thought.  Then I saw one of the men had a camera.  Odd.

I glanced at another man and he had a measuring tape.  Strange.  A third man caught my eye because he was pointing around the room and talking on the phone in Arabic.  Surreal.  

The co-owner put down the phone and said to one gentleman, “No, I need the register until next week.”  Then it dawned on me, my Local Card Shop was dying.  “$50,” hollered one guy while pointing at the display case.  The co-owner bowed her head, seemingly studying her shoes, and then she acquiesced, “Alright,” she mumbled.

This is a nightmare, I thought.  I stood by the singles box, fingering the stacks in a daze, half-heartedly searching for a 1987 Topps Eric Davis to complete my set.  Before long, the co-owner was in front of me.  “I guess you figured out we’re going out of business,” she said.  I looked at her, and she had a tear in her eye.  Oh, no.  “Yes, I gathered as much,” I mumbled, motioning at the kettle of vultures.  

“He got a full-time job,” she said referring to the other co-owner, “An extra dollar and a quarter an hour.” “That’s great!,” I replied while thinking that wasn’t much, not near enough to cover the loss of the store.  She was called away to succumb to another insulting offer.

A few minutes later, she came back to me and said she’d miss my monthly visits.  From 2004 until last year, I worked one block away from the shop.  I’d stop by once a month, mainly just to talk cards with the owners and sometimes I’d buy a pack, or a couple Gwynn singles.

We made more small talk, knowing this was the end, until the moment teetered on uncomfortable.  She put up her index finger and walked away.  She came back with three empty 3,200 count boxes.  “Here,” she said, handing me the boxes.  “Fill them up with whatever you want, and I’ll charge you $10 a box.”

I paused.

“Go on,” she prodded, “We’ve got to get rid of the cards, and I would rather you get what you want,” while she eyed the vultures.  Hesitantly I took a box and stood there like a confused puppy.  “Anything I want?” I asked.  “Anything,” she said.

I spent the rest of my lunch hour completely overwhelmed.  I thumbed through countless boxes, and eventually filled all three 3,200 count boxes to the gills.  I could have been more thorough, I could have been greedy, but I just went for what I needed to complete sets.  

“Is that all you need?” she asked, as I left the store for the last time.  “It’s more than I could have hoped for,” I said.  As I was getting into my car, I heard the familiar chime on the shop's door, looked up and saw the co-owner coming out.  “Here you go,” she said, “I think you needed this.”

She handed me a 1987 Topps Eric Davis.