Hello Dolly

I was forwarded an email recently that contained the most captivating claim.

The writer, who described himself as a "proud papa," boasted: "My daughter is well known in the doll collector's world."

Peer esteem notwithstanding, if I had an adult daughter who collected dolls, I'd be a lot more worried than proud.

Perhaps I'm just embittered by my owned failed efforts. For a very brief period in childhood I collected baseball cards (or maybe it was football) -- one of several doomed attempts to fit in. Later there were the beer cans, which did not prove as valuable as I'd hoped. (To put it mildly -- they eventually went out with the recycling.) I don't think I've really collected anything since, and I tend to look askance at those who do.

Isn't collecting just focused materialism? What's the point, anyway? Not that everything needs a point. But will your life really fall apart if there's an empty spot on your Spoons of the World display rack?

When you set out to acquire a particular set of objects, it's easy to get carried away. Even obsessed. Before you know it, you've crossed the thin, blurry line that separates collectors from hoarders and the neighbors are giving you funny looks. It happens all the time.

My former dentist's receptionist had a thing for stuffed bears. Not just any kind, but a pricey line whose name I forgot as soon as she told me. They seemed to be marketed more to 40-something receptionists than to children. With no kids herself, she'd dedicated her spare bedroom to the bears, lining its walls with shelves to house the ever-expanding collection. She stayed up late watching QVC and placing an order whenever a new bear was introduced, which seemed to happen remarkably often. She was totally hooked, even after it began to strain her marriage. All this she told me with nary a trace of self-consciousness.

Much of my aversion is based in snobbery, of course. I snicker at Hummels (or, God forbid, Lladros), but I might admire a display of, say, pre-Columbian pottery. Same with Rockwells versus Renoirs.

As for dolls -- antique ones, anyway -- they give me the willies. Dolls and clowns. And I'm not the only one.