I used to enjoy it, what's not to like, the natty 'experts' over-valuing every little trinket, doo-dad, old vase, the shock and pleased expression of the owner...
You know it.
But what they really need is me. I wanna be THAT guy, the garbage guy, who looks at the stuff people bring him and enthusiastically pronounces it complete and utter rubbish, tat, the debris of humanity, filth, junk, muck, dross, before loudly smashing it front of their very eyes.
The sad thing is is for every little resin angel you destroyed, every black velvet painting of a creepy clown with a pants-down praying child behind him, somebody out there would be sitting up in their armchair, calling in and saying they wanted to save it...buy it now...
Yeah, so it will never fly. A shame.