My Mom Threw Away All My Comic Books...

AntiquesWest was big on reading back in its formative years - latching onto comic books for about a month before moving on to Melville and sea stories. Mom threw away all our comics and don't think that didn't make us wince when we learned that a cherry edition of Action Comics No. 1 - the pinnacle of comic collecting - sold yesterday for a cool $1 million.

That's $1 million - for a comic.

The 1938 copy, the first depicting Superman in action, was sold by a private seller to a private buyer. Everyone wants to remain anonymous. And, oh, the issue appears to have kept pace with inflation nicely, thank you, as we remind you that it first sold to some appreciative youngster for the princely sum of 10 cents.

AntiquesWest Says: "Antiques Market Coming Back..."

After 2009 proved to be a veritable Sargasso Sea of stalled sales and picky buyers, there are new signs of life in the antiques market.

How do we know? Why, sales are up, of course, and we're getting more calls than ever - thanks in part to rebounding global financial markets and a rosier outlook at home.

For which we're grateful. People were feeling positively glum out there last year.

But recent shows in New York City and our own comparatively small business model are positive indicators. Good buys are still out there, too, especially in 18th- and 19th-century English and American furniture - where prices were hit hardest in the Depress... recession of '09.

The Winter Antiques Show in the Big Apple went well, we're hearing, with attendance up roughly 20 percent, to at least 22,000. Sales were strong throughout its 10-day run."

Okay, you don't want to hear us yammer on, you want to know where the bargains are, right? Well, try militaria, furniture, photographs, carpets, ethnographic art, beds and furniture made of exotic woods.

There you have it. Welcome back!

Undersea Wreckage Of Downed Airship Added To Historical Registry

The wreck of the Naval airship USS Macon - which crashed 75 years ago today off Point Sur, 140 miles south of San Francisco - has been added to the National Register of Historical Places.

The wreck, which includes the remnants of the SparrowHawk fighter planes she carried, lies in the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary, where it has lain since the dirigible went down in the Pacific during a storm.

Most of her crew were able to escape. The five planes she carried were considered the most advanced of their day, taking off and landing from a trapeze-like device suspended from the Macon's belly.

Silver "Buzzers" Come Home, Press Badges Stir Memories

I was young and dumb and ready for action, thought I'd seen a thing or two. My editor all those years ago sent me down to the Hall of Justice in San Francisco and told me to look up someone named "Scoop" and "The Baron."

It was a madhouse, with all the "personalities" that come with an urban city - and magnified by ten because it was San Francisco. A Disneyland for adults. There was a card game in progress when I made it to the third floor press room - a gorgeous blond, some TV people, cops. They said they were playing for candy bars.

"Siddown, kid, more the merrier."

One of the players was a Superior Court Judge. Everyone, it turned out, was armed. I began to lose.

"You're going to go far down here," the Examiner man - Malcolm "Scoop" Glover, said approvingly. He brightened when a good looking guy in a dapper suit walked in, the press room ringing with "Hey, Baron!"

Baron Muller was a legend around the city and the Hall of Justice. He'd covered everything that moved in town for years and had a string of exclusives on his belt. I tried not to look too impressed. They got around to asking for my press card, a laminated piece of junk with a sorry looking photo and some words that were supposed to get me past police lines when things were exploding.

"What's the matter with you guys?" The Baron asked the cops in attendance while looking at my press card with a look a new dad reserves for a recently soiled diaper. "You used to have a little class." And with that he threw down his police reporter's "star" the one with his number "9" in hard-fired enamel, in a leather holder and gleaming.

It sounded cool. I looked at it with envy.

"Yeah," Scoop said, throwing his lapel shield on the table. "Those were the days."

I started to drool.

I put in a few years with the paper and left, never getting anything nicer to wear than a lanyard and that crappy laminated card. A few months ago The Baron's badge and buzzer turned up on the antiques market, he's not with us any longer, and I pounced.

Had to have it. And proud to have known the man and shared time with them all.

They had class.

Antique Cars A Good Investment? Yep, If It's A Ferrari