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vi? f‘tggh‘m _ .. ‘ 7 Beware of l” - in id. ‘1 i g i 1 :ji L14 ‘Bidding Fever’ by Linduy Eagle-ham Remember the old children's song that goes something like thla' "...n goes zipwnen It moves, Pap when It stops. Whlrn'r when It stands still: inavar knew just what It was, And I guess i neverwlll." The thing that zipped and popped and whlrrsd was a child's lay; a kind of whimsey with no practical purpose or lunctlon. Despite that â€" or because of It â€" the thing was a constant obtect of fascination which provided countless hours of pleasure. I thought ol that silly rhyme after atten- dln a term auction recently. Now. It seems that the amazingly high number of iarrn auc- tlons In lhls province Is a kind at modern phenomenon. The reasons tor this are probably complicated. having to do with lactory tanning, urbanization. and In- freaelng debt loads. But that's another sub- act. The point is this. The auction experience let‘t me with a powartul impression. Otherwise sensible, even cautious, people can experience the sudden liars-up oi ‘bidding taver'. This malady can alillct those oi any age, sex, or economic level. However, Its eiiacts tend to be most disastrous for those In the lower economic brackets. l was a victim oi the 'fsvor' at the unfor- tunate outing In question. Alter standing in a tresth manured liald. awaiting blacktlles lor three hours, i [sit llushad with the vic- tory of outblddlng some other poor mesmerized soul ior some nameless deeded that went whirr. pop and zip. The rapid-tongues auctioneer was a positive Svengatl. He seemed to lure you in- to a subtle but powerful desire to par- ticipate in the bidding. He did this with the energy and rhythm of his vocal skills. It was a momentum he created. And the desire was not a desire for the Item being sold. it was an uncon- trollable desire to WINI To win at the llamal The process was really an unconscious one. The auctioneers hypnotic eyes bore in on me. Maybei looked weak and lndeciaive; maybe I looked like a moneyed tourist who believed ovary cracked crock and broken bentwood chair had 'character‘. Whatever It was. those eyes wouldn't let me go. "Who'll gimme ten, tan. ten? Who'll gim- me ten dollars? Do i hear ten?" Ha gotten. "Ten. I want tlttean. Fllteen. iiiteen, fit- teen. We're way off heral Twelve and a halil'rTwelva and a halt?" .msuguu Got it. Then some lightning-last syllables rolled oil his tongue. Sounded Ilka: "Whowouldsglddymeal Whowouidagld- dymea..." Svangall was pleading with me. No. not pleading â€" damandlngl What could i do. i was under his power. Up to now my head had been nodding almost without my conscious wlli. Finally my mouth opened and i heard a voice lrom inside me say: "Twenty!" "SOLD." was the shout irom my hyp- notist. It was also the suggestion â€" the command! â€" that awoke me from my semi- dreem state. What had i done? WHAT had I done? The sym toms of the 'lever' were abatlng: the throban pulse in my neck: the hot 2 4w / <2 Auctioneer CHI Gilbert charms the crowd. unis, ioraneact, dry throat and wet palms i iound myself digging deep In my pockets for twenty dollars â€" plus TAX. l mlghtadd! And what was the reward for this mad- ness? What was the twenty dollar (plus tax) lure? What was the 'thingsmaoob that did the Job' on me? Who knows? Call it a geegaw, a gimcrack. a thingamajlg, knick-knack, tlgamaoob! Sulilca to say, I am now the reluctant owner of a whlnlng, popplng and zipping device that could be for peeling apples. maklng spaghetti needles. or rewindan fishing line. Caveat Emplor (‘huyer beware' â€" of silver-tangued auctlonears and 'biddmg taveri') 45%