The Little World

Standing in line is Europe’s national sport.

Whether it is waiting for pancreas sausage in Poland or boiled tripe in England, you have only to get two people to line up and they will be joined by twenty more.

In Perth we line up for cheap plastic. The ( so far ) annual big scale model exhibition has a swap meet on the Sunday morning…though it is a misnomer. There is more selling than swapping.

Sometimes no selling at all. Some of the would-be traders have succumbed to the temptation to make a killing, but have failed to realise that it is actually going to be a suicide. They’ve endeavoured to recoup their initial investment plus a profit, Kits marked much over $ 50 are going to have a nice morning out in the sun and then go home again in the same car in which they arrived.

Unless you have the only extant example of a kit moulded by a Hollywood celebrity wearing a tight dress and mink stole, no-one is going to empty their wallet of drinking money.

The occasion is perfect for kit whisperers like myself – the goods offered are old, mouldy, and battered…just like us. You can get a lot for your money when everyone else just looks away in embarrassment.

Every stash sale uncovers old firms that I have never heard of. A lot of them may be garage affairs, but I cannot complain if the actual kit is anywhere near buildable. I work in a shed, too. The sheds of the world call to each other over the sounding deep. Uncle Marko and I have a deep plastic bond.