I Get It

I met Lou about twenty-five years ago. He had sold his large company for a goodly sum and was starting his little dream business. If you can make your hobby your business, it's never like going to work.

Antique powerboats. Those magnificent sculptures in mahogany.

I was invited to the grand opening of his little shop, but didn't go. It would be too tempting. These crafts struck a chord with me and I already had too many powerboats.

A few months ago, I ran into Lou. The business had grown, but he asked me for some help with the marketing. We walked through the warehouse, which contained dozens of beautiful specimens from an age gone by. Lou rattled off the standard selling points. Why buy an expensive, new fiberglass boat that will lose half its value the day you plop it into the water?

Wait a minute. Something rings a bell here. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it did come into focus as I drove home.

Year back, I was starting a company and had been out shopping for office furniture. No small investment.

Before I made my decision, a girlfriend wanted to spend a weekend antique hunting. I had little interest, but that's one of the things you do to build up your bank of points.

Walking through a shop, I came upon an oaken rolltop desk. That would look great in my new office. But, how do you justify such an extravagance? I was moving on when the wheels started turning. Whoa. Back up the bus.

Instead of just buying a desk for myself, I could furnish the whole office in antique furniture. I'd get the tax benefit of depreciation, as I would with new stuff, except the value would maintain or increase, instead of going down. And, we'd have really neat stuff.

Lou had looked at me to see if I understood the sales pitch. I got it. A long time before the stroll through his warehouse.