Unless you were old enough to watch television in the early 1980's, you probably don't remember these adds. "No one can eat just one" was the source of a lot of humor back then, and there were countless jokes and tv skits about it.
But Browning High Powers are like those potato chips. Once you get one, you have to have more.
One of my first was the beautiful "Practical" model. According to the Browning Catalog, which I just checked on line, this model is no longer imported by Browning. They are still offered by FN in Europe.
I was working at a gun counter in a general store, part time. Weekends only. A fellow broke in one night, stole three pistols, and when the alarm went off he ran. The Sheriff's men caught him in a newly plowed field, but did not recover the pistols on the scene.
Almost a year later, people out looking for arrowheads found a sealed plastic sack with the three pistols inside, partially buried. The owner sold them to the gun counter workers for next to nothing, as he had already been paid by the insurance company. So I got my first one. It was in great shape, considering.
By the time I finished, I had examples of all the common production versions except the Canadian Inglis pistol. ( I don't have a Browning HP produced for the German Army either, but it's the same one the Belgian's were making before the war.)
Some years back, I worked at a local state park for a summer, on the Senior Citizens program. It was fun except people constantly wrote ugly letters about me to the Governor and the State Forest Service. I was nice to decent people but I had some trouble with idiots. Then the poor Ranger, who was only about 24 , would have to bring the letters down to the little camp store and tell me I couldn't tell people to "get out of here" or tell them "this conversation is over." I was always surprised he didn't just fire me. Maybe he couldn't.
At any rate, I was sitting down at the boat docks one day, and got to talking to an old guy who was waiting there while his grandchildren beveled around the lake on paddle boats. He told me he had something I would like to see. After work I walked up to his campsite, and he had a nearly immaculate Inglis Highpower, with the holster. He was from South Georgia and had bought it from a farmers widow, who was his neighbor.
I offered him a princely sum for it, but he wanted to keep it because "they knew how to make guns in those days" and he didn't need any money. He did give me a sack of once fired .40 S&W, because he didn't reload but never threw away brass and he had it with him. I thought that was pretty decent so I decided not to invite him to ride down to the dam in the park skiff with me, where the water flows over the dam and down onto the rocks, after all. >:-(
I've never been able to find one that was in good condition, that the owner would sell at a fair price. But hope springs eternal in the human breast. One day before I croak, maybe.....