Oh... you kind and thoughtful folks need to paste these comments on the blog and boost my readership!! LOL. Thanks so much for reading my stuff. It's gratifying to know my words aren't just floating lonely and ignored in cyber space.
Meanwhile, as for explaining to someone the value of vintage...
I recently went to the house I grew up in, which is being brutalized through neglect by the people who bought it from us in 1988.
It's a 1909 Georgian Colonial. Absolutely magnificent. A sublime house, which my parents bought in a distressed state for a song in 1975 and restored (my mom did 95% of the work herself -- she's got a bizarre set of skills for a girl who went to finishing school) inside and out, using the original plans and blueprints. They put back everything just as it was originally designed, right down to the landscaping.
It was a 13-year project, as the owners before us were a bit nutty and had ripped out and discarded every last piece of molding, every mantel piece, every French door, every original brass doorknob, everything. They'd even reshaped the front staircase to create a "swinging 70s rounded landing." Hideous.
Then they carpeted the entire house with olive green wall-to-wall, which was never cleaned or changed, including the "dog room" in which their giant german shepherds did their business right on the floor. Weird, no?
My parents had to call a professional service to sanitize that particular room.
And mom had to search high and low to find replacements for all the discarded parts of the house. But this was back in the day when the pieces of demolished houses were saved for just this purpose. We used to go to a magical place called "United Housewreckers" in Greenwich, CT, and seek out the missing pieces. They knew us really well by the time we were through.
Anyway, I showed up at the door (what's left of it), and tried very hard to explain to these owners that houses such as this are no longer built, and there are very few people left who know how to repair them. No one knows how to "throw plaster," or make REAL, functioning shutters, or fix a genuine slate roof, or any of that. They are foreign (Israeli) and have no concept of the value of the house from a historical or cultural perspective. I wish I could do something.
Shutters are missing or hanging off. The wood is rotting. The ivy is destroying the mortar between the bricks. They've cut down the weeping cherries and let the hedges die. There is actually a hole in the roof of the garage. A gaping hole. I just sat on the sidewalk and cried.
My hope is that the next owner will be able to afford to properly restore it -- though their task will be an even bigger one than ours was -- and that the current owners will sell sooner than later so there's a chance that can happen.