CLICKING LEADS TO PICKING

 
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With the kids grown and gone, what should a couple of 60+ers do with their new-found freedom?  I could only spend so much time gazing into the eyes of the “mature blonde” (his euphemism for gray) who has been the man of my dreams for over 40 years.  I nixed sports – too many years as a coach’s wife to be a fan and a lifelong lack of coordination on my part prohibits my participation (he totally agrees on this one).  He nixed quilting – but then I really couldn’t see him snipping and stitching anyway.  We’re not your ballroom-dancing-type of couple and let’s just say there is not enough alcohol on the planet to bribe an audience to listen to us sing.  We both like walking – but he prefers the treadmill and I crave the sunshine and fresh air.  I enjoy butchering the hedges (my self-prescribed form of therapy), but he’s “allergic to yard work.” 

So there we sat night after night in front of the TV.  Who would have guessed that his perpetual channel surfing (which drives me up one wall and down the other) would lead us in the right direction.  First we found American Pickers – Mike Wolfe and Frank Fritz - digging through garages and sheds in search of the ultimate find. CLICK. The Toy Hunter - Jordan Hembrough - causing me to bemoan the toys I had relegated to the attic never to be seen again. CLICK. Junk Gypsies - Amie and Jolie Sikes - with their unique sense of style. CLICK. Ballgame - thanks to the ESPN Network, there is always a ballgame. CLICK.  Rick Dale of American Restoration amazingly bringing relics of the past back to life. CLICK.  CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. . .

Then one Friday afternoon, while clicking and watching Fox News’ The Five (not surprisingly, he tends to side with Bob), the Prudential commercial asked, “If you could be paid to do something you really love, what would you do?”  Simultaneously we both blurted out “Be a picker!”  So the next day, in the pouring rain, we attended our first estate sale.  And as they say, the rest is history.