Back in 1970, I bought a framed signed letter and photograph of the composer Sergei Rachmaninoff. The letter had the letterhead of his Riverside Drive (NYC) apartment, and it was to a music teacher whose student recital he had attended. There was some constructive advice in the letter. It was framed with a gorgeous photo of Rachmaninoff, a red mat and a gold frame. I paid a mere $100 for it.
In 1976, I moved to another apartment, and that letter/photo never made it to the new location. I have no idea what became of it. In today’s market, that item would be worth many thousands of dollars, not that I’d ever sell it.
I think everyone, over the years, has lost a beloved possession (or threw it out, or broke it, or had it stolen).
Sounds silly, but a bowling ball, sparkle blue, with my nickname engraved on it. I paid a friend to ship it from Cali oh, about, in 1990. Nevah heard from him or the bowling ball either. I still have dreams about it.
When I was 19, my cheeky BIL took a photo of me bathing in a tin-tub out in the bush, totally naked except for a face-washer (flannel) discreetly positioned over my boobs. T’was an absolutely fantastic pic, with the flames of a bonfire behind me and the glow of a rising moon to the side. As a pressie, he had it blown up into Poster Size for my 21st Birthday.
That, and my favourite rosewood recorder, which were apparently in the same box that went missing on a house-move 23 years ago.
I still curse the fuckers who nicked them. I miss those 19 year old titties especially!!
Not exactly lost, but when I was in a tight spot, I sold my Rickenbacker 330 12-string guitar. I think the guy still has it; I might try to look him up and buy it back, though I could buy another one just like it fairly easily.
A framed copy of the Chicago Tribune photo of the sheet music to “In My Life”, with John Lennon’s glasses sitting on it, to mark his death. It was smashed to smithereens in a domestic battle.
I had the first ring my grandfather ever gave my grandmother. It was tourmoline in white gold with a couple of small diamonds on the side. It went missing with a couple of other rings. I know who stole it but It was long gone and melted before I figured out how bad my taste in men was that time.
An old denim jacket which had the entire left side of it stained with blood. My blood. From a big ol’ head wound I got in Israel. I left it in the choir practice room 4 months later, and it somehow vanished in the three hours it took me to realize I’d left it there.
My DC comics collection. The 1962-1968 stuff mostly went missing when my grandmother threw it out. The rest I carefully stored in a basement, but succumbed to my mom’s insistence that I get rid of it because she was tired of the clutter. That was about 1975. I’d stopped buying them about 1972, the same time I discovered National Lampoon.
Thank the gods that the NatLamp collection is intact!
A butterfly knife from Bali-Song Inc. I think my college roommate stole it. It was an expensive item back then and is worth even more now. Bali-Song Inc went bust but later reincarnated as Pacific Cutlery. They still make premium knives, but the older Bali-Song marked products bring a premium. I replaced the one that disappeared and even bought a couple more, but I still miss that one because it was the first hyper-expensive knife I ever personally bought.
I had a bad car accident in 1981, destroyed my car, injured me pretty badly, and totally smashed my 1970 Martin D-28 guitar, which I had bought new when I was sixteen. I was pretty poor at the time of the accident, and for years after, so I bought an Epiphone acoustic which I used for twenty years. Now I play a fairly nice Takamine, but I still think wistfully of that Martin from time to time.
Several Christmas seasons ago I had just bought a beautiful 1948 Conn 424N clarinet, and made the mistake of taking it shopping with me. I checked it into the bag check of a very busy New York store, then left without it. One thing led to another and it was two days before I remembered where I’d left it. Of course, by then it wasn’t even history…
