It's my favorite show because I'm learning a lot about antiques and collectibles. The way it works is Antiques Roadshow goes to various cities around the country and sets up for a weekend in the local convention center. People bring in their antiques for a free appraisal by a flotilla of experts. If their items are sufficiently unique or interesting (and A.R. is always particularly interested in objects with local history) then they will do a short on-camera appraisal. These are the highlights of the show because the expert will hear the provenance of each piece, explain what it is if the owner doesn't know (and they frequently don't), ask what they paid for it and what they think it's worth, then estimate what the object would sell for at auction. It's terribly exciting when they tell a little old lady that the miniature painting she bought at a retirement home jumble sale is an original folk art painting worth tens of thousands of dollars, or advise someone who rescued a lamp from the dumpster that she's got a unique piece by L. C. Tiffany. So far no one's ever had a heart attack or fainted, but it wouldn't surprise me if people got in wrecks driving home afterwards to tell their spouses what A.R. said. "Honey, that ugly painting you always hated? It's worth thousands! Now tell me again how foolish I was to buy it, and then beg me to let you retire with me to Mustique."

I became interested in architecture and interior design about fifteen years ago, and I've gradually taught myself something about decoration and furnishings through carefully reading magazines like Architectural Digest and World of Interiors. Mostly I've been absorbing general information about style, but I've paid attention to the details of how the rich furnish their homes. Every once in a while someone's featured home has a collection worthy of indepth reporting, like people who bought a house full of Thomas Molesworth furniture, or inherited a series of famous Cubist paintings. But mostly the magazines assume you already know about antiques. A.R. is helping me understand what makes an antique worth something, what collectibility is all about, and what items are hot now, have been heating up in the last ten years, or have gone out of fashion. It's also teaching me how to identify fakes.

The appraisers are fabulous, always excited by what they're seeing, and generous with their knowledge no matter what they're assessing. They're kind and helpful with the people who bring in fakes. They carefully explain why someone's collection of Indian clothes couldn't possibly be what the seller said it was, or what the previous owner thought it was (Sitting Bull had a huge wardrobe if everyone who brings in his "original" moccasins and tobacco pouch is to be believed). They show us why a chair isn't an antique, or a cabinet can't possibly be more than 50 years old: staining jobs on new wood, modern nails, incorrectly sized feet, shallowly carved arms, materials unknown in the region the item supposedly comes from. It's really interesting to follow their reasoning, although the owner is usually dreadfully disappointed and invariably paid too much. That's the breaks when you buy at auction, though. If you don't know enough to look for obvious fakery then you shouldn't try outwitting the dealers. I used to be sure I'd never be brave enough to buy anything at auction, but I'm starting to think I might like it.

I think what I like most about the show is the palpable sense of American history I get from watching what pieces come in for appraisal. Turn of the century art pottery, models of patent ideas, tin toys, folk art of all kinds, all of it giving me a glimpse of what people created and cherished in earlier times. Over and over, the folks at A. R. admire objects that have been used and loved, stressing the value of enjoying your possessions and researching their history. What makes them valuable is how much you like them as well as how much they'll bring at auction someday. And I really like that attitude. I don't see enough of that in the interior design magazines where so often wealthy people hire designers to create the illusion of personal history. I vastly prefer seeing what the average American loves enough to stand in line all day for at A.R. just in case the object they treasure turns out to have market value as well.

Next time Antiques Roadshow comes to town I think I'll take in one of my own favorite pieces. You never know.

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