2003
"Hey," he called out to me, "How much do you want for this box of wires?" I looked over my shoulder and saw a man crouched low on the ground, sifting his hand through the old cardboard box. The garage sale was going well and there were several people crowding the driveway looking at the merchandise. Many of the items were the remnants left at our new home by the previous owners and I was patiently waiting beside a woman who was still making up her mind whether or not she wanted the old area rug we had found rolled up in the basement.
Jon had set the box of wires out before he had left for work, but hadn't put a price tag on it. I had shoved it under the table when he was gone, sure that no one would bother with something so unsightly. The box was familiar enough to me, it had moved with us where ever we went. Several times in the garage or basement I had kicked it out of my way, sometimes knocking it over, splaying the contents on the floor. The wires were all tangled and in disarray. Some of the beige and black rubber casings were split, and their copper and aluminum insides poked out like broom bristles. The box was ripped and faint water marks crept up the sides. The man's young son leaned on his dad's back while his father pulled the wires out and wrapped them around his hand, organizing the untidy mess. "Oh, you can just have that," I said, "It's just a box of wires," casually waving my hand in his direction before turning back to what I hoped would be a more lucrative transaction.
The man removed the wire from his hand, stood up quickly and with his young son in tow, walked straight to his car, shoving the box in the trunk. "Thanks," he called out, before opening his door, getting in and driving away. "Amazing what some people get excited about," I thought, as the woman I had been waiting for handed me thirty dollars for the rug.
March 12, 2011
We moved the computer and needed a longer cord, so Jon and I went to Micro Center. The parking lot was packed and when we entered the store it was evident by the zigzagging line that we would be there for awhile.
"What's so popular about Micro Center?" I asked him, with more than a hint of insolence.
"It's the ultimate computer store," he replied, "It says so on the sign."
"Ha. Ha.," I countered, "No, I mean, why are so many people here?"
"Didn't you know? They SELL wire."
"Touché."
2003
"How much did you get for the box of wires?" he asked when he got home.
"Oh, nothing," I replied, shrugging my shoulders, "I gave them away."
"You gave them away?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and disbelief.
"Well yah, it was just a box of wires. Besides, you didn't put a price tag on it and I didn't know it was worth anything."
"Who took it?"
"I don't know. Some guy. He seemed pretty happy about it."
1985
Two massive bundles of multi-colored wires lay on the living room floor. "Mom, what are these?" I asked. "Ken brought them over. He thought you kids might think of something to do with it." Our neighbor Ken worked for the telephone company. He and his wife Gayle were our surrogate grandparents and they loved to spoil us with little gifts and treats. The wire did wonders to spark the imagination and we spent hours winding and unwinding the pretty colored wire into stick figures, cars, flowers, shapes, and on occasion, tripwire. Since that afternoon so many years ago, it has been an unending source of entertainment, moving with me where ever I've gone. I've made bouquets of wire flowers to give to friends, used it as ribbon for wrapping packages, braided it into key chains and necklaces, and entertained my children with springy wire animals. All the wire I have left fits in a small box.
March 12, 2011
"So what was in that box anyways?" I asked, as we stood in the wire aisle of the store.
"Mainly coaxial cable and CAT 5 cables," he said, pointing to similarly looking beige and black cables for sale. "But I had speaker wire and audio cables in there also, maybe even an extension cord or two. And telephone wire."
"Not my telephone wire!"
"No, not YOUR telephone wire. Another kind."
"People sure pay a lot for wire. No wonder the man at the garage sale was so happy."
"Yah, no wonder."
March 13, 2011
"Diana had a cool object lesson at the board meeting tonight. She held up a new 20 dollar bill and asked who wanted it. We all raised our hands. Then she wrinkled it up and asked who wanted it. We all raised our hands. Then she stomped on it and asked who wanted it. We all raised our hands. Then she asked why we still wanted a wrinkled, stomped on piece of paper and we said it was because it's still worth 20 dollars. Her point was that people are like that 20 dollar bill. Many of us may feel like we are just a wrinkled, worthless mess. We make the mistake of finding worth only in the outside appearance and do not see the value of the soul."
"Kind of like our boxes of wires."
"Yes, kind of like our boxes of wires."
