My family and my best friend’s family took a trip during the summer of 1972 to Acapulco, Mexico. We drove all the way there from Weirton, West Virginia. It was a blast. They were in their Station Wagon and we were in my mom’s boat of a Cadillac. Once we crossed the border into Mexico, we stayed in a roach infested motel room. Ramaine’s mom, Dora, wanted us to have a pajama party and stay up all night long. We knew it was because she was afraid that when we fell asleep, we would be subject to all creepy crawlers of the night. We thought it was fun.
Along the way, we stopped at an open air place that was supposed to be a burger joint. I was a little concerned about what kind of meat they served. While we were waiting to get our food, out of the blue a mother pig and her piglets waltzed through the outdoor restaurant. The baby pigs were adorable! They were right by our feet, squealing, and brushing against our legs as they ran around the tables. I just fell in love with the little piggies.
I believe I was 15 when we went to Mexico. On our way back from Acapulco, we stopped at several market places along the side of the road. I found a small paper mache pig. I smiled and just knew I had to have it. After our Mexican adventure was over and we were back in West Virginia, I started my pig collection. And I have been collecting things ever since. My first purchase, of course, was a piggy bank.
One day, when I was driving on a back road somewhere with the school’s driver’s ed teacher, I quickly put my foot on the brake, and yelled, “Pigs!!!” There was a pig farm right on the side of the road. Little piggies were running around and I fell in love all over again. I explained my love of the little porkers to the teacher, who just smiled, probably happy that I didn’t put the car in a ditch during my excitement. The next day he brought me a little plastic pig. “I stole it from my little boy’s toy farm.” I thought that was so sweet. I still have the little guy.
Now, when you are young, you can get away with having a bunch of crap in your bedroom. I used to have stuffed animals when I was little. As I got older, it was Barbie Dolls and Trolls. When I was a teenager, it was pigs. Where ever I went, I tried to find something with a pig on it. After a while, it was obvious that I really liked pigs. Even in college, I managed to find a pig poster. It wasn’t in the best of taste, but during the mid 70′s, this poster was very popular. (Makin Bacon) I hung it above our toilet in the apartment I shared with three others.
After I graduated from college, I looked around my “I’m an adult now” apartment, and realized that most of the pigs had to go. I gave away or threw away (sigh) most of my pigs. I only kept a few things. But, my love of all things piggy was too hard to get rid of altogether. I found an old “The Three Little Pigs” book in an antique shop, and decided, “Hey, what a cool collection that would be!” So I am on the look-out for those when I am antiquing.
In the end, I think everyone should collect something. My grandfather collected marbles. We used to go to his house, crack open the can that contained the round beauties, and shoot marbles on the carpet. They were so pretty. My grandmother enjoyed her National Geographics. I really didn’t consider magazines a collection, but she enjoyed them. My dad owned cameras. He was an amateur photographer, and had different kinds of camera. After he died, I was able to obtain a mini camera that he owned.
I collect a lot of things, ranging from duck decoys to swizzle sticks, from antique letter openers to cast iron banks. I’m a collector. As I was looking around my dining room/living room, I made a discovery. I’m still a pig hoarder.
My little piggy from Mexico
Well, talk about subconscious purchasing. I bought the lamp last month. As soon as I saw it, I had to have it. My son gave me the pig cutting board at Christmas.
I guess I’m a pig collector once again. I kind of like the little porkers.
