Junk Love Monday: Collection of the Week

They're round, and blue (usually), and sometimes bumpy. They come in all sizes, from 1/2 an inch to 18 inches in diameter. Sometimes, they are metal. Others are paper over cardboard. They have rust, and dents, and smudges. But I love every single one of them, so today I take the opportunity to wax poetic about the Great Globe Collection.

 I have over forty globes, all vintage. Some are school-used globes. Around half of the collection consists of tin litho globe banks in various sizes. I have a tiny vintage dollhouse globe (it spins!), and a 1950s globe pencil sharpener.

One is a German game component (the axis is a spinner).

The all-tin globes have different bases, including a zodiac theme, the planets, and various modes of transportation. I have a West German tin litho spinning globe (not a bank) with a beautiful cream base and axis.

I have a giant globe with no axis, rescued from a Goodwill on one of our buying trips. And one of them, the one that is not quite like the others, is not of the Earth, but of the Moon (another Goodwill gem).

Why do I love globes? I have no idea. I suppose it gives me a glimpse of human nature, or human history, and the link between the two. The study of geography reveals an interesting dichotomy. Its dynamic nature shows shifting borders, renamed cities, expanding and shrinking empires--basically, man vs. man. But the static aspect of geography is far more comforting, and perhaps a perfect illustration that forces beyond man's control will always win. Regardless of the current war, the Rockies will always be in the same place (unless you delve into the particulars of tectonics, which I think is an unnecessary and rude interruption to our current conversation). The Mediterranean does not care who owns the beaches. The shape of Africa does not reflect the size of some bloody dictator's ego.

But I guess, in the end, it really comes down to this: I like the look of them. I like their roundness, and the colors of the oceans, and the uneven mountains, and the little ocean currents. I love to find a tiny little cruise liner out in the Pacific, or a plane on its way to Paris. I love the bases and the Art Deco or Mid-Century axes that show me degrees of latitude. I like to spin them, and nestle them together in my house. I have, out of necessity, become more selective when purchasing globes. But I am always mentally devising Plan B (or C , or D), so that the next time I fall in love, I WILL find a place to put it.

P.S. That lovely green fellow gazing longingly up at the sky is a masterpiece from our favorite potter, Leanne Pizio. His name is Max.