I love the Mesa show, and I recommend it to everyone in the area, especially those who have never been to a gem and mineral show before. Unlike Tucson, the Mesa show is compact, affordable, friendly, and comfortable.
I pulled out of my driveway at 9:40 a.m. and arrived at the Mesa Community College parking lot about 10:15. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and I was all set.
The show is laid out in rows in the parking lot, so it's easy to start at one corner and just go up and down, up and down the rows and take in EVERYTHING. I was by myself this year, with no one to slow me down or rush ahead of me or bug me with questions.
Each year I have different items that I'm especially interested in, and this year it was colorful agate and jasper slabs. Inexpensive ones, of course, but if I found something really special, I was prepared to pay a little more. My budget is limited, now that I'm not burdened with the day job, and I have to be careful not to splurge. It's not always easy!
I am, unfortunately, addicted to two particular items: green moss agate and crazy lace agate. Every year I promise myself I will not buy any more green moss, and every year I buy some anyway. The past two years I really indulged my passion for crazy lace, so I promised myself no more extravagances like that. I was determined to stick to my resolve.
Well, I did, sort of.
Some of the vendors at the Mesa show are local lapidary clubs raising funds for their activities. Members contribute excess inventory or whatever, and this are great places to find bargains. Last year I picked up five small slabs for a little bit of nothing, and among them were a lovely slice of purple Burro Creek agate, and a piece of Royal Aztec Lace agate.
This year from one of the club booths I bought two small pieces of crazy lace for 50 cents each!
It pays to dig through the tubs and trays and buckets of bargains. At another booth that had two big tubs marked "50¢" I just couldn't resist a long visit. Down under all the miscellaneous slices of unidentified agates, jaspers, and even some petrified wood, I found a couple small pieces of fossil dinosaur bone just the right size to have their edges ground smooth and then tossed in the tumbler to polish. I quickly added a large (6" x 3") slice of beautiful red, orange, and yellow jasper-agate that might have been from Mexico but also looked like some of the best of the Arizona Agate Mine material. The next selection was a red agate with some white fortification stringers that probably is from Mexico. I estimated it would yield four, five, or maybe even six beautiful cabochons.
Over the years I've learned, mostly by trial and error, to recognize which slabs are most likely to polish well. It's not always obvious, especially when the slabs are displayed wet. Whether they're put out on a table in a tub or tray of water or the vendor provides a spray bottle, the slabs may or may not turn out quite the way they look when wet. The colors are more likely true than the finish, but the finish is important, too.
Wetting the stones often masks flaws such as cracks of fractures that become evident when the stone dries. In the case of crazy lace or other banded agates, even a microscopic fracture can prove disastrous, since these agates tend to break along the banding lines anyway.
But at 50 cents each, the risk is minimal, and I was determined to indulge, at least a little bit. So I added two more slices to my stack and paid my $3. Three whole dollars!
Why didn't I buy more? Because it was early in the show, just the second or third row, and I didn't want to spend all my money in one place. I could always come back . . . .
The weather continued glorious. The crowd was sparse because it was Friday, so I felt comfortable strolling and browsing leisurely. I bought a nice piece of Afghan lapis, though it wasn't as nice as what I've bought in the past; the lady I usually buy from wasn't there at all, and she had much better material. But the piece I bought is still lovely and will make a beautiful pendant wrapped in sterling silver wire.
About two-thirds of the way through the rows, I came to a booth with box after box after box of beautiful exotic agates. The vendor himself was busy with two other customers, so I busied myself digging through one of those boxes. The price on it wasn't "50¢"; it was "$.15/gram." That's approximately $68 per pound! And rocks aren't exactly light in weight.
The advantage I had was that I was looking for small stones. I didn't have to buy large slabs; small individual pieces could be ground to a particular shape and then polished. While I was searching, I had the opportunity to eavesdrop on the conversation the vendor was having with his other two customers.
They were trying to get bargains, but they apparently weren't willing to look around. Yes, some of the most beautiful agates -- the Lagunas and Coyamitos and Moctezumas -- are expensive. They're rare and they require hard work to mine and transport. The process of cutting the agate nodules requires expensive equipment and time, too.
The vendor tried to explain all this to his customers, but I could tell he wasn't getting anywhere. By that time I had pulled four small bits of beautiful agate from that tub and I handed them to him to weigh.
"What are the damages on these?" I asked him, half afraid to find out.
He set up his little scale and set the four pieces on it.
"See," he said, "those guys should've done what you did. They wanted bargains, but you took the time to look for some. You've got beautiful Lagunas here."
At that point I imagined myself telling him I couldn't afford whatever price he was going to come up with. It would be embarrassing, but I'd have to put them back.
He got the weight from his scale, then took out his calculator to figure out the total price. I held my breath.
"Ten bucks," he said.
Ten dollars for four little rocks? Yes! I paid it and gladly. They were definitely worth it.
Did he give me a break on them? I don't know. For all I know he overcharged me! Maybe he's just a good salesman, because as I walked away with my purchases, he heard him say to his next customer, "That lady got some good ones. You just gotta look, and know what you're lookin' for."
I strolled through the rest of the show, picked up a few more little purchases, and then around 1:30 I had reached the last row. I added up all my expenditures and discovered I had spent only $30! Even though I was satisfied with what I'd bought, I guess I had money burning a hole in my pocket. I knew exactly what I was going to do: Hit the 50-cent booth again.
I was pretty sure I remembered where it was. I knew what that tub looked like, and the cardboard sign with the hand-written price. But by now it was 1:30. I was tired. I'm not used to all that walking -- though I'm getting better! -- and despite bringing plenty of water with me, I was feeling a bit dehydrated. And, frankly, I was hungry, too! The end result was that I couldn't find the booth again, and I didn't have the energy to really try. Feeling a little disappointed, I gave up, walked back to my car, and headed home.
My disappointment intensified when I got home and sorted through my purchases. Along with the dino bone and agate slabs, I had somehow, subconsciously or whatever, bought two beautiful slices of green moss agate from the 50-cent place!! Not one, but two!! Argh!
They're gorgeous, and I love green moss agate, but I just didn't need any more. The money wasn't an issue; the two slices only cost me a dollar. But why did I buy those instead of . . . something else?
I woke up Saturday morning even more upset with myself. After stewing about the situation for a while, I decided just to go back to Mesa and find that booth again. I would NOT buy any more green moss agate.
When I pulled out of the driveway this time, the clock in the car read 8:44. Traffic was light, and I arrived at Mesa Community College at 9:20. Rested, and motivated, I quickly found the booth in question. I didn't care that the two tubs were filled with cold (and dirty!) water. I was determined to find some good stuff to compensate for my addiction to moss agate.
I probably spent half an hour, maybe a little more. There was no need to rush. I had already seen the rest of the vendors, so I could take my time and get what I wanted. I set myself a limit of 40 slabs; regardless of size, they were 50 cents each, so I wasn't going to spend more than $20.
This time I stacked up Brazilian agates and petrified wood. A slice of pink banded onyx. Two more little bits of dino bone. Another slab of Burro Creek purple that would yield at least one nice cabochon; at 50 cents, I didn't need to get more than one. Mookaite jasper from Australia. A delicate white tube agate from who knows where.
(Mookaite, middle left; white tube agate, lower left; Arizona petrified wood, bottom center; pink banded onyx, lower right)
(Brazilian agates, upper left, upper center semi-circle, and upper right; dinosaur bone, two small pieces upper center; mookaite, lower right)
And then, at the bottom of one of those tubs of dirty water, I saw a little lump. I'm used to little lumps out in the field when rock hunting, so I picked this one up and turned it over.
It's not very big, but it's big enough to cut at least one slice. Could be Laguna, maybe. Whatever it is, it was well worth half a dollar.
I had a 32 pieces; I paid $16 and that was it. I returned to the car and drove home. I'd been gone barely an hour and a half.
On Sunday I cranked up the rock saw -- it hasn't fallen apart yet! -- and cut cabochon blanks until I completely wore out the blade. It felt really, really, really good.
Arizona does indeed have really neat rocks, even if some of them are brought in from elsewhere for a show. If you missed Mesa, Quartzsite is coming up, and after that, Tucson. . . .
