24-09-2025, 02:12 AM
It sounded so easy when Roy said “take home these pages of stamps, look up the catalogue value, pay me 30% of that”.
You send a request for a catalogue to the upstairs study. You receive a massive book that gives a new definition to “kiloware”. You discover the print is too small to read. You submit a request for help and a large magnifying glass is delivered. You look at the stamp. Its face is hidden by the postmark. You move on to the next stamp. You are able to sort of identify it. You put down the magnifying glass and pick up your phone. In order to take the picture, you need two hands. You put down the page of stamps, take a photo, and edit the photo into 5 strips of stamps. You ask Google Lens what it thinks of a stamp. The AI says “This is a stamp from Queensland. It is green.” It links an eBay listing for a completely different stamp. You show Google another stamp. It says “This stamp is Scott 101. Or Scott 120. It is similar to 101b.” You can’t use the Israeli sourced superior stamp identifier app because you are taking a stand against the government of Israel. Netanyahu hasn’t noticed yet …
You put down the phone, place the catalogue on your lap and notice it is now twice as heavy. You look for Scott 101. You hold the magnifying glass over the page and notice the slight tremor in your hand is making it difficult to focus on the print. You hold a ruler in your other hand to help you read. Of course you are now unable to make notes. You put down the magnifying glass and can no longer read the catalogue. You put down the ruler. You reach for your phone and take a picture of the catalogue.
You now have a picture of the catalogue listings for 101 and 120. The stamp you are looking at doesn’t seem to be related to either listing. But there are variations that seem dependent on watermarks and perforations. You know from past attempts that you can’t see watermarks, even with the magic fluid. You begin to curse. You attract the polydactyl cat, followed by the occupant of the upstairs study. You are given a perforation gauge because you have no idea what happened to the ones you were given previously. You interrupt your toils long enough to say “No, another damned perforation gauge would not be a good Christmas stocking stuffer!”
You announce that you are too stupid to do this and you won’t buy any of the stamps. Another catalogue makes its way to you.
“Australia is hard” says the bearer. “Start with Iceland.”
An hour later you still can’t read the catalogue without taking a photo to enlarge the print, but you have found all the stamps on one page, even the stamp that Scott has insisted on sticking at the back of the book like an orphan instead of listing it with its siblings.
You realize that the people of Iceland were very sensible designers of stamps and you decide to search for a list of other sensible countries. You vow to devote your time to the sensible. As you begin to Google, you realize that the AI is mocking you. You decide to give up on philately for now, and soothe your troubled mind with a sudoku. You knock off the easy and medium puzzles, and are feeling much smarter. But half way through the difficult puzzle you realize they are the New York Times puzzles, and you have vowed to avoid US purchases. “But they are free and you cancelled your subscription” you argue. “It’s a slippery slope” says the little voice in your head. You decide to read before bed. “Don’t even think about saying anything right now” you tell the little voice as you pick up your Kindle. At least the book was purchased from a publisher in the UK.
You send a request for a catalogue to the upstairs study. You receive a massive book that gives a new definition to “kiloware”. You discover the print is too small to read. You submit a request for help and a large magnifying glass is delivered. You look at the stamp. Its face is hidden by the postmark. You move on to the next stamp. You are able to sort of identify it. You put down the magnifying glass and pick up your phone. In order to take the picture, you need two hands. You put down the page of stamps, take a photo, and edit the photo into 5 strips of stamps. You ask Google Lens what it thinks of a stamp. The AI says “This is a stamp from Queensland. It is green.” It links an eBay listing for a completely different stamp. You show Google another stamp. It says “This stamp is Scott 101. Or Scott 120. It is similar to 101b.” You can’t use the Israeli sourced superior stamp identifier app because you are taking a stand against the government of Israel. Netanyahu hasn’t noticed yet …
You put down the phone, place the catalogue on your lap and notice it is now twice as heavy. You look for Scott 101. You hold the magnifying glass over the page and notice the slight tremor in your hand is making it difficult to focus on the print. You hold a ruler in your other hand to help you read. Of course you are now unable to make notes. You put down the magnifying glass and can no longer read the catalogue. You put down the ruler. You reach for your phone and take a picture of the catalogue.
You now have a picture of the catalogue listings for 101 and 120. The stamp you are looking at doesn’t seem to be related to either listing. But there are variations that seem dependent on watermarks and perforations. You know from past attempts that you can’t see watermarks, even with the magic fluid. You begin to curse. You attract the polydactyl cat, followed by the occupant of the upstairs study. You are given a perforation gauge because you have no idea what happened to the ones you were given previously. You interrupt your toils long enough to say “No, another damned perforation gauge would not be a good Christmas stocking stuffer!”
You announce that you are too stupid to do this and you won’t buy any of the stamps. Another catalogue makes its way to you.
“Australia is hard” says the bearer. “Start with Iceland.”
An hour later you still can’t read the catalogue without taking a photo to enlarge the print, but you have found all the stamps on one page, even the stamp that Scott has insisted on sticking at the back of the book like an orphan instead of listing it with its siblings.
You realize that the people of Iceland were very sensible designers of stamps and you decide to search for a list of other sensible countries. You vow to devote your time to the sensible. As you begin to Google, you realize that the AI is mocking you. You decide to give up on philately for now, and soothe your troubled mind with a sudoku. You knock off the easy and medium puzzles, and are feeling much smarter. But half way through the difficult puzzle you realize they are the New York Times puzzles, and you have vowed to avoid US purchases. “But they are free and you cancelled your subscription” you argue. “It’s a slippery slope” says the little voice in your head. You decide to read before bed. “Don’t even think about saying anything right now” you tell the little voice as you pick up your Kindle. At least the book was purchased from a publisher in the UK.
Janet MacDonald: I found an unexpected love for stamp collecting during a pandemic …
