Imaginary conversations during Antiques Roadshow

Hey lady! In line behind that giant guy with the tiny clay teapot! Yes, you. I just saw you get that really ugly painting with the cows and goats appraised. $150,000. I'm amazed, because that painting is a fucking eyesore. Wow, you've had it up over your mantle for 50 years? Nice taste. Yeah, yeah, I know, family heirloom. I'm not here to criticize your taste (though God knows with that velour track suit and those sequined heels, the painting is the least of your problems -- don't hit your hair on the door frame on your way out of the auditorium, by the way). I heard you say that you don't want to sell your painting. I have to take serious issue with that.

I know that it's been in your family since Jefferson Davis had a history changing hissy fit. I know that you love it. And you said that you wanted your kids and grandkids to take it and hang it in their homes, so that's why you're not going to sell it before you die. I have some bad news for you, though. No one in your family likes it. I know, how could they not?! The way the cows and the goats...just stand there. It's breathtaking, I know. But they hate it. They do. How do I know? Have any of them asked you if they could take it and hang it in their home? Have any of them asked for it in your will? Have they ever noticed it, or said a single word about it? I didn't think so. I'm pretty sure they've been making fun of it behind your back for years.

I know it hurts to hear these things. To hear that they don't care about your beloved work of art. It's because of their...stunningly good taste that I'm here to give you some advice: sell it. I know you're in love with the cows and the goats and the badly illustrated plow. But you need to sell it. See, your kids and grandkids are going to watch you on this show -- probably because you excitedly told them that you're bringing the family joke on television. They know that it's worth $150,000. So when you keel over, Grandma, they're not going to keep your beloved treasure and hang it as a memory of you. They're going to sell it and keep the money for themselves. While they have good taste, they don't deserve the money. To be honest, you don't either, for loving this stupid thing so much, but your kin deserve it far less than you do for completely disregarding your wishes. So sell it, and give the money away. Use it on a vacation. Roll in he cash. Throw it away. Spend it on a kilo of caviar, anything that's intangible or that isn't permanent. Your kids don't deserve it, and your grandkids really don't.

Let it go. Don't insure it. Sell the damn thing. God knows no one else in your family wants it.