Of all the opportunities for laugh-out-loud irony, I'll pick Lot No. 28. That was the Clarice Cliff ceramic art collection, priced at about $1,500, which included a Cliff biography titled "The Bizarre Affair."
That it was.
I was in New York over the weekend to visit my daughter, but she had to work on Saturday morning. That allowed me to pick from among hundreds of entertainment options and I did, racing in a New York minute to the Sheraton Hotel & Towers.
I could make my case that the choice was strictly professional. I joined members of the media from the New York Times to Der Spiegel to National Geographic, all there to document in painstaking detail the dispersion of Ponzi-schemer Bernie Madoff's plentiful, and frequently peculiar, belongings.
I could say also that this was personal. Madoff's insatiable greed trickled down to my close friends in the Twin Cities who were laid off from honorable Jewish nonprofits when burned benefactors cut back on donations.
Or I could admit the truth, which was that I was so fascinated by this feeding frenzy that I was among the first to arrive and could have sat in the front row if I wanted to, but that seemed too eager, so I picked the second.
The auditorium was soon packed with dealers and deal seekers and the plain curious, culling through 41 pages, single-spaced, of a once-dominating man's life and everything in it, and I do mean everything.
Cutting boards and serving forks, lamps and photo frames now empty of smiling faces, candles and candlesticks, a Hamilton Beach blender, doorstops and rugs, Rolexes (I counted five), an exercise bike, motion-sickness device, socks worn and unworn. Those famous slippers.