“The Action is in the Auction” is a series of articles about the stock and bond markets that appear as a monthly feature in the Canadian Economist. This month’s article is about the Canadian government’s debt auction and the competition that inevitably occurs when the price of debt rises.
It’s been a long time coming for Canadian businesses, and investors, to get the message that there is a new financial model in town, and it could be the next big thing.
There are times when buyers and sellers both need to pass a message along to each other, but the two parties may not be able to connect directly. In the case of vehicles, this can be solved by holding an auction. While it is possible to hold an auction online or over the phone, it is also possible to hold these auctions in person using an auctioneer who can facilitate the meeting and act as an impartial intermediary.
Lee Pitts is a freelance columnist for The and Paso Robles Press; you can email [email protected]. 
This COVID story has certainly shaken things up, including the withdrawal of shares from many auctions. Because of the Chinese flu, many breeders of purebred bulls have simply held internet auctions instead of traditional bull sales, and I hope this situation will not be permanent. Before you know it, they’ll turn their sales into electronic auctions and do away with the auctioneer altogether, and you’ll have to buy your oxen on eBay. I know an online sale makes economic sense, the bulls don’t suffer and no one gets dirty, but where else but at a real bull sale do you see other ranchers from such a large area, drinking free beer and eating free steak, swatting flies that the auctioneer interprets as bids, getting manure thrown at them and getting something for a wink? I suppose I should be the last to complain; after all, for 20 years I was the announcer and a very small shareholder in one of the first video auctions where we sold cattle in lots. It’s a great way to sell livestock, and buyers can do a lot of business while eating and drinking for free, but the beauty is in the eyes of the beer owner. I know the stables are still selling a lot of yearlings and calves, but part of me misses the huge ads for dozens of specials in the pasture and the way Ringman Tommy runs behind the crowd of yearlings to get them out of the gate while catching a few offers. Many breeders have already taken the first step to remove the bull from sale. Instead of running the cattle into the ring for sale, they show pictures of them so no one foolish enough to sit in the front row puts chips in their coffee or smears recycled alfalfa on their clothes. As a bander for 40 years, with my ring sold backwards, I never wore out my clothes from the front, only from the back because of the sticky shavings and dirt thrown at me. I’ll never forget the day that slurry from a fire hose landed on a large, fussy industrialist and most of it stuck in the fold of his silver Stetson, so he sat still for the rest of the sale, because if he moved even a little, the lake would overflow with slurry and drip, drip, drip down the front of his hat. You won’t see this at an auction without the police. We’ll get through this together, Atascadero. 
Then there was that time when the bull decided to join the auctioneer and the clerk and get stuck. Although my memory fails me, I will never forget the auctioneer falling backwards off the block, but he did not fail to announce the auction. And if we couldn’t bid on a bull in the ring and allowed another bull, in half the cases the buyer chose an inferior bull. And the second bull often brought more money! In retrospect, there were situations that could have been very dangerous, for example. B. when a Longhorn bull at a sale in Elko, Nevada, lifted the sale ring, went under it, knocked over part of the grandstand and was about to fry someone a kebab when a smart man opened the door and let the bull out, last seen on I 80 en route to Chicago. I don’t know what this has to do with Nevada, but a Hereford bull escaped from the arena and chased everyone away. Not to mention the guy who waved a big American flag at the John Wayne bull sale every year when he bid. I didn’t know whether to accept his offer or salute and start singing our national anthem. The highlight of my ringman career was a husband and wife arguing over his choice of bulls and how much he was willing to spend. After several arguments, which everyone in the barn heard, she finally gave him a slap and left. Forever, I was told later.
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