Brick Collecting: Texas Bricks (original) (raw)

Why Bricks? Why not? There are several good arguments for collecting our red, durable friends. They need not be taken in with pets and plants, they are nearly theft-proof (in the unlikely event your collection is stolen, the thief would soon tire running from the scene) and with what other hobby can you invite your friends to walk on your collection? While we currently deny collecting, the more we learn about these little rectangles, the more the flame of our interest is fanned. True brick collectors sense this interest and will present you with a few specimens, all the while assuring you that you can quit whenever you want. Sure you can.

This is our story, and we warn you before you read further - you may never look at a brick the same way again.

First answer these simple questions to see if you are a potential collector:

• Is Terra Cotta your favorite color?
• Do you still use paperweights, even though you have air conditioning?
• Are you fascinated with gravity?
• Do you laugh at comic strips in which characters are struck by thrown bricks?

If you answered yes to even one of these questions, you my friend, are a potential brick collector.

Texans are particularly susceptible to this malady since so many bricks have town names pressed into them. Abilene, Corsicana, D'Hanis, Elgin, Ferris, Gonzales, Groesbeck, Lampasas, Marlin, Pittsburg, Quannah, Rusk, and Tyler, just to mention a few.

It starts out innocently enough - maybe a brick from a town you used to live in, or one or two you broke your tiller blades on in your garden. A friend sees these and next time he visits, he brings one over to you and says: "Here's a brick for your collection." "What collection?" you say but you immediately realize how silly it sounds. Denial isn't pretty. Admit it. You've wondered how they got those little letters in there, didn't you?

Before you know it, you're making pilgrimages to Thurber and prying bricks from your neighbor's foundation. You've renamed your children Kooken and Elgin and your pets Calvert and Crisp. Your wife was already named Diana, so you didn't have to ask. Lucky you.

Surrender to the clay, submit to the glorious rectangle. Just don't ask to be cremated in a brick kiln.
Pete Schiller, Brick Detective
Brick Collecting