philatelic phlasher


Yes!  He has returned!  Stamps and Stones proudly presents and reprints  the first adventure of  the  Philatelic Phlasher, originally published in the Connexus Auction Catalog of March 16, 1994.

adventures of the philatelic phlasher

    Faster than the U. S. Postal Service can raise its postage rates, and swifter than stamp tongs disappear from a dealer's show table:  by day it's mild-mannered philatelist Throoper Brown, by night it's. . . The Philatelic Phlasher!

    Although this irreverent alter ego seldom reveals itself to public view, the time has come to share some of his experiences in  effort to interface meaningfully with the philatelic world.  Any stories related here actually occurred within living memory; only the names have been altered to protect the not so innocent (not to mention avoiding having our pants sued off us).

the philatelic phlasher's explanation of why people collect stamps

    This incident occurred recently at a major stamp show in a larger city.  It was a slow afternoon toward the end of the show and I was wishing that what we refer to in the trade as "a live one" would come over, look at what I had to offer and possibly even buy something.

    Suddenly, an older couple materialized in front of me.  He (obviously the collector) began perusing the counter display.  After a few minutes of standing to one side and looking bored,  she approached the counter and said, "I have a question for you."  I replied, "Certainly, what would you like to know?"  She then said, "I don't understand what this is all about.  Why is stamp collecting such a big deal?  Why do you people want these little pieces of paper?  Why do they have a show that's this big?  Why are you all here?"

    As the questions kept pouring out of her, I quietly decided that this was no time for a mild mannered philatelist.  This was a job for the Philatelic Phlasher!

    Keeping an outward appearance of taste and decorum, I leaned forward, locked eyes with her , and said in a quiet monotone, "Because, madam, we are all pure batsh!t crazy."  Without any outward response to my admittedly unorthodox answer, in an equally quiet voice, the lady replied. "Thank you very much, sir.  Now I understand."

    For whatever time I earned in purgatory for this transgression, I was repaid many times over the the jack-o-lantern smile on the face of her husband!