This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sarah Israel. It has been edited for length and clarity.
My dad has always been a collector. It was like a primal need of his, collecting.
Ever since I can remember, he would take my siblings and me to yard sales, flea markets, and garage sales. I hated it and begged him to stop taking us along to look at garbage. I wanted to go to the movies, not talk to vendors at flea markets about what they had on offer.
Although he collected anything and everything, or at least that’s what it felt like, he only displayed his music. His records were all out in our music room. He had thousands of vinyl records and CDs.
Almost everything else was just stored away in boxes in the basement: salt-and-pepper shakers, vintage shoes, and rooster figurines galore. This might have been a decision influenced by my mom, who hated clutter.
I helped my parents downsize
We didn’t know the extent of what he had collected until recently, when all of us siblings have been helping my parents downsize. We went into the basement and slowly started opening boxes, one by one, not sure of what we would find.
I opened a box, then a few more, all of which had McDonald’s collectibles. My dad had been an executive with McDonald’s for years in the 80s. He started as an assistant store manager here in Canada and eventually became the Training Director for the Canadian market, a role that involved lots of travel to the US for conferences. In the mid-80s, he moved to Paris to work as the Training Director for the European market, 19 countries in all, before finally settling back in Montreal in a role at the head office.
Courtesy of the author
Throughout his years working for McDonald’s, my dad had picked up various items along the way. Things that were very specific to wherever he was. There were Happy Meal toys, clocks, watches, mugs, clothing, a voice note recorder, and lots of pins.
As I sorted through the boxes, all the memories came back to life of my childhood, the years before life became complicated. Life then was so simple, and waves of nostalgia washed over me as I held each item. These memories that had been tucked away in the recesses of my mind suddenly came back to the front and center.
People online were really into my dad’s collection
It wasn’t only me who felt this way; I found out all too quickly. As a seller of vintage items, I started making videos on social media about what I’d found.
The response was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, and I’m sure it’s because I hit on this tender spot in millennials — this time in life when the most exciting thing was wondering what toy you’d get in your Happy Meal. The world’s landscape right now is really challenging, and I think people just want to lean into nostalgia, into a period in history when things didn’t feel quite so difficult.
Courtesy of Sarah Israel
Even though I have loved looking at the McDonald’s collectibles, I’ve decided to sell nearly all of them. I’ve looked at things one at a time, consciously appreciated them, and then moved on to the next thing. It’s hard to do, but it makes me happy to think about all these items in their new homes, being enjoyed by their new owners for years to come.
I won’t pretend it’s easy, though, because these McDonald’s items aren’t only a reminder of my own history, but also that of my dad’s. They remind me of who my dad once was and what he did for all those years while we were young children. And now I have to assign a monetary value to them so I can sell them.
I’ve decided to keep a few things, some pins from when my parents were in Paris, but I’ll be selling the rest.
I’m excited that people will buy their favorite items and will be so excited to display them. The collectible that has received the most attention is the burger lamp. It makes me feel good to know that the lamp, alongside all the other items, won’t be hidden away in boxes any longer.
