“They say money talks…mine just waves goodbye.” – Anonymous Parent

I was catching a news program the other day – the same old parade of garbage – when one small story caught my ear.

Only those of you who had children in the 1990s or early 2000s will know what I’m talking about. The rest of you will think I’m making this up. But I’m not.

A “vintage” Pokemon card sold at auction for $6,300,000 by a guy named Logan Paul, a self described YouTuber and wrestler. (What a bizarre combination.)

This masterpiece is a “PSA 10 Pikachu Illustrator card.” He apparently wore it hanging from a custom diamond necklace during his WWE debut at WrestleMania 98. Just class galore here.

For you who missed participating in that period of cultural madness, harassed by your pampered offspring, let me explain.

A Pokemon card is a piece of printed card stock, similar to the old baseball cards years ago. Thin layer of clear laminate. But you don’t buy it for a few pennies and it doesn’t come with a slice of bubblegum thrown in for free.

It features super weird artwork in blaring primary colors and bad taste that only the Nipponese can come up with, usually some purple or yellow monsters that would make Godzilla blush.

Some Japanese marketing firm who owns a printing plant came up with this scam to avenge Hiroshima and Nagasaki. And it’s a wickedly savage revenge at that.

You can now call us even.

I was sucked into this vortex of stupidity by my 10 year old son. It was all the rage with that set. Any kid with common sense who refused to join the cult would be shunned by the village… maybe even de-pantsed.

He dragged me to one of those weird places that hawk the old baseball cards, video games and of course Pokemon paraphernalia. Most of us did baseball cards as kids, but I guess 40 year olds who hand out candy from dirty white vans still do.

It was crowded and there were several 30-something year old guys wearing black Startrek T-shirts and $300 tennis shoes, peanut butter on their lips still from the lunch mom packed.

Very self important. You would think they worked at a high end jewelry store.

Perusing the glass cabinets at the treasures, I looked at the prices of the cards and asked the nearest curator of culture, “$108 for the STARTER pack?”

Eyeing me like a homeless person had walked in wanting to use the restroom, he replied (nose pointed at the ceiling) “Well…Sir…the CHEAPER cards are at the end of the case.”

I bought as little as possible and still ended up with a $42 tab while junior frowned. His grandmother later secretly bought him two “better” cards. Fifty bucks each. Yes. That’s not a typo.

The “value” of these overblown drink coasters is supposedly based on the limited number of them printed, sort of like gold coins. The company claims that only 30 of the one like the wrestler bought for $6.3 million were printed.

Says WHO? The company that sells them and owns the printing plant? I’ll bet they hand them out for free at the Somali daycares they most likely own too.

Not all by any means, but much of our openness to being scammed originates with wanting the world to be impressed with us, especially our offspring. We cave in to every media-created obsession at the time.

My wife was cleaning out a closet a few weeks ago and came across one of those Tickle Me Elmo toys from back in the 90’s. Jog your memory?

I remember people rioting in the stores the Christmas they became the rage. Grown people were fighting like Detroit gangbangers, actually getting hurt sometimes.

Scalpers were buying them up and reselling them for $1,000-$1,500. Muggers were jumping you in the store parking lot for $2.50 worth of Japanese fake fur and cheap electronics. Now “vintage” ones are a couple hundred, up to $100,000.

Did those animal parents do all that to get themselves an Elmo?

Of course not. Not even the mugger. Muggers have kids too.

Some of them just wanted to make sure Johnny or Joanie would speak to them on Christmas Day and not lock themselves in their room pouting. Some of them wanted to brag to their neighbors, “I’m important. I pulled strings and got one.”

I think that we Americans are probably the most gullible societies to ever exist.

I doubt those Nigerian princes who want to wire you $10 million bother sending emails anywhere else.

Poorer people around the globe would fall down laughing at the attempt.

Or burn you at the stake.

Thom Caraccio ([email protected]) is a retired musician and retired motion picture scenic artist living in West Palm Beach, Florida who hails from Columbus. He graduated from S.D. Lee High in 1968 and still considers Columbus his real hometown.

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