Hi Guys, 
I wuz readin' this particularly good thread, specifically John Marshall's very
insightful reply to:

 Bob St. Peters wrote:  Try getting $75 for a #5 someday. They're still $10--12
at my flea markets. God would have had to autograph some tools to get some of
the prices stated. 

And: 
  Still, condition and rarity do play the major roll. 

An' then John wrote:

 Again I agree, even to the point I would pay $75 for a MINT, Boxed #5.   I
might have to sit on it for a while, but I would consider it a good investment. 

Boy, the idea of actual value has been in the fore of MY thinking recently, and
I don't think my situation is too dissimilar from a lot of the people here: I
have become an afficianado, partly collector, partly user. Still, I try to
remember to be more interested in the specific tool than the price.

Here's what happened to me last Saturday: 
I was out at the Roseville Auction by myself, walking up and down the flea
market isles. So here's one of those poor old unlovely women trying to sell
enough junk to get a few bucks ahead, and she's got a grubby old #4 Bailey. I
asked her what she'd have to get for it and she said $35.00. I told her "thanks"
and kept moving. Well, I got to thinking about it, and went back. Here we've got
the following: a mid years Sweetheart #4, (latest logo on the iron, but no knob
reinforcement), never cleaned. Tiny drops of white paint splatters all over it,
and a split out at the bottom of the tote that should glue up nearly invisibly.
Otherwise beautiful rosewood, good finish. Paint, and usable iron (in upside
down), nearly100%, no pitting whatsoever. And, not unimportantly, an old gal
that could really use a sale. I offered her thirty dollars, and she was so
flustered that she tried to give me five dollars back on a twenty and a ten. "No
dear, it was thirty". Pretty sad huh? When I cleaned it up (and I did so very
carefully, the white paint droplets came off with dishwashing detergent, warm
water, a sponge and a fingernail), had the tote glued (yep, nearly invisible),
it became a lovely plane. I stuck it into my 'numero uno APR-19-10' collection,
right between the #3 and the #4 1/2. 
And don't forget, the number four is the living beating heart of the
collection. For thirty bucks. 
If I had to give up all my planes and could keep only one smoother, this would
be it. The #602 would have to go, as would the #4 1/2. If I could keep two
planes the second would be a Sweetheart #5 1/2 that I fixed up from a junker,
and if three, I'd grab the #60 1/2 blockplane I keep in the drawer behind the
bench. And I certainly didn't pay seventy dollars for all three.

So let's keep it clear in our minds: The price of something does not necessarily
have anything to do with what it is worth. Once we get past the point of being
able to see for ourselves the beauty, utility and desirability of a tool we have
lost something precious. It would be like a fishing derby, where the winner is
some old guy who caught a weird funny finned little sculpin ("Ooh, those are
REALLY scarce!").

John