I’m often asked what it’s like to be a writer — how I spend my days, how I experience the world. And so I will be sharing occasional essays from the front lines of my writing life. Enjoy!
Watching “Antiques Roadshow” is a weekly tradition for my husband and me. We cuddle on the couch and watch enviously as people discover their junk is worth thousands of dollars. And we ask ourselves, why does their junk accumulate value while ours only accumulates dust? Surely we have something of value somewhere in our house.
Our conversations go something like this:
Me: What about what’s-her-name’s thing-a-ma-jig? That might be worth something.
Him: That piece of junk?! I think not.
Me: What about that painting no one likes? The one in the closet.
Him: How’d we get that thing anyway?
Me: I think someone gave it to us.
Him: Was it someone we like?
Me: I don’t know. Maybe it was a relative.
Him: Does that mean we’re stuck with it forever?
Me: The relative or the painting?
Him: Can you bring a relative to “Antiques Roadshow”?
Me: Which relative are you thinking of?
Him: I don’t want to name names, but we have a few gems in the family.
Him: Uncle Leo’s pretty old and he’s got a glass eye. Maybe it was made by Tiffany’s.
Me: We could get him to pop it out!
Him: What about your aunt from Connecticut?
Me: I don’t have an aunt in Connecticut.
Him: Sure you do. She’s got the dyed red hair. Teases and sprays it.
Me: That’s your aunt from Connecticut.
Him: Oh, is that who she is? Maybe she has some jewelry.
Me: Maybe?! She has more bling than a rapper.
Him: Think it’s worth anything?
Me: Doubtful. She gets it in cereal boxes.
Him: Don’t you have an old Barbie doll?
Me: Yes, but she’s balding and is missing a left boob. Do you have a G.I. Joe?
Him: No, I was a pacifist in the 60s.
Me: Hmmm …
Him: Hmmm …
Me: What about your old “Popular Mechanics” magazines? It would be nice to get rid of them.
Him: No way! They still have valuable information.
Me: They’re from the Pleistocene Era, for Pete’s sake.
Him: Hey, I don’t ask you to throw away your cookbooks, now do I?
Me: Who needs ’em? I haven’t cooked since the Pleistocene Era.
Me: Maybe we should go to garage sales and buy new junk. We might strike it rich.
Him: What a great idea! Why don’t we go now?
Him: (Smiles, takes my hand)