A private game night for collectors, at someone's home.
Cards after supper.
Bring one of your collector items.
You might leave with the item you brought, or with more items, or with none at all.
You come with nothing but your item. No cash, no tips, no charge.
Guests come only by a host's invitation. You can't buy your way in.
How a night goes
Six collectors, one table, about four hours.
1
Bring one thing.
Everybody brings a collectible of roughly the same value and puts it on the shelf. It's photographed on its own at check-in.
2
Supper's on.
The host puts out supper. Everyone tells the story of the piece they brought. Nate brings the cheese curds, and the drinks are in the snowbank by the stairs.
3
Cards after supper.
At the card table, under the lamp. There's no professional dealer; everybody takes turns. We're not playing for money.
4
The picks.
The top three pick from everything on the shelf, taking turns: the winner takes three, second takes two, third takes one. Every item goes home with someone.
5
A name in your place.
On the way out, drop a card in the little bucket next to the snowbank: who should sit at the next table? A postcard comes a week later, as a thank-you for playing.
Why say yes
What hosting gets you, and what coming gets you.
Hosting
It's the easiest great night you'll ever throw. You open the door and put out supper; Nate runs the rest.
Your collection is the theme, at the level you pick.
You get to invite your collector friends, and that one collector you've been wanting to know but don't yet.
You play too, in your own chair.
Your night goes on the wall: a framed card, the signed deck, and its story on this site.
You join the hosts. Once a year, they get a night of their own.
I grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the oldest of five kids. My mom was one of six, and we lived right next door to her parents, my grandma and grandpa. Most of their kids lived in the neighborhood too, and they all had kids, so I grew up surrounded by aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents.
Every Friday night from 7 to 10, we'd all meet at Grandma's house, three or four generations as time went on, eating, laughing, telling stories around the table, and playing games in the basement. In the summer we'd be outside. In the long, cold winters, some of my fondest memories are of sitting around the warm, cozy glow of that kitchen table. It was my grandparents' house, but we just called it Grandma's house, because in that house she was the boss.
Us in the basement around the Nintendo, in the '80s.
If my grandma had her house, my grandpa had his shop. He owned a small business, and he also had the world's largest collection of antique microphones and sound equipment. He was one of the country's foremost experts, and he lent pieces to Hollywood for movies and to the Smithsonian for research. Some Saturday mornings he'd pick us up, buy us McDonald's for breakfast, and let us run around his collection and his museum. He taught us a lot, but mainly he just let us play: me, my siblings, and my cousins.
Grandpa. Milwaukee Magazine, November 2015.
Friday night went on like this every week of my life until my grandparents passed when I was in my early 40s, at which point my mom and dad took it over at their house. The tradition still lives on there today, and it's something I've always loved and held dear.
Now that I've moved to Los Angeles for good, I want to recreate a little piece of that out here: small groups of interesting people around a table, swapping stories, talking about the things we collect, and sharing our pieces with each other. For me, the tradition started at my grandparents' house in 1978. Today, nearly 50 years later, I'm adapting it for you here in Los Angeles.
My homage, anywhere I live: green shag and wood paneling. A tiny closet I redid in one of my apartments.
All you need to do is sign up to host, give me a guest list, and I'll do the rest. Can't wait to meet you guys! Let's have some fun :)
You invite five other collectors like yourself. You put out supper. Nate runs everything else.
What you get
The easiest great night you'll ever throw. Nate handles the invitations, check-in, the rules, the picks, and the story.
Your collection is the theme, at the level you pick.
The guest list is yours: your collector friends, and that one collector you've been wanting to know but don't yet.
You play too, in your own chair.
Permanent credit: a framed keepsake card, your name on the Hosts wall, and the deck everyone signed.
Your night, written up and posted for you, with its own page and story.
Your room keeps growing. The names left in the bucket by the snowbank become the next tables.
Once a year, the hosts get a night of their own.
You host at your own home, never a place you rent out, and you read the house rules before saying yes. Guests come only by a host's invitation. You can't buy your way in.
Sign up to host
Tell me a little about you and your collection, and I'll be in touch.
You come with nothing but your item. No cash, no tips, no charge.
It's free. Nobody pays Nate or the host anything, directly or indirectly, and Nate never touches money. Guests bring their item and themselves; supper and drinks are the host's to give.
The host's own home, and the host plays. A home the host lives in, never a place they rent out. That's why the night moves from house to house.
The host reads these rules before saying yes.
Six players. Each brings one item at the night's set amount, give or take 10%.
Cards only. Poker, or another card game where nobody banks. No blackjack, and no player covers the table's bets.
The picks, in turns. The winner takes three, second takes two, third takes one. If the game is still going at 10:15, the chip count sets the order.
The players deal. The deal passes around the table, and an app on the bar runs the blinds. Nobody at the table is paid: no dealer, no rake, no credit, and no tips. We're not playing for money.
A seat is never sold, never traded for business, and never a perk of anything. No money from anywhere else pays for the nights.
An item found fake or misdescribed is made right between the two players: its owner swaps in one at the set amount. Nate stays out of it.
Invite-only, never hidden. No coded invitations and no moving the night to dodge anyone. The address never appears on this site or in a group text.
Keep your phone, but no pictures. Every piece is shot on its own, and there's one group photo at the end for anyone who wants to be in it.
We show the items on the shelf. Who brought what, and who took what home, never are.
First names only, and only by each player's consent. Names are listed alphabetically and items in shuffled order.
No addresses, and no outside shots of a house. A night is posted about a week later, once everyone's home.
Every photo has its location data removed.
Every piece is shot on its own, with no serial numbers, and there's one group photo at the end for anyone who wants to be in it. Guests keep their phones but take no pictures. Never a person holding a piece, never the pick shelf, and never a window onto the street.
Sign up to host, never to play. Guests come only by a host's invitation.
Nothing is sold here. No ads and no sponsors. You can't buy your way in.
I'm a child of two coasts: for most of my life on Lake Michigan, in Milwaukee, but I've been in and out of Los Angeles since I was a teenager. Now I'm on the Pacific, in LA for good. In either place, I live by the water. The pictures are mine.
