My husband has just completed a long recovery process from a foot injury that required reconstructive surgery. The whole season lasted almost 10 months, and most of the time he was confined to a wheelchair. During that bound-to-the-chair stage, he was constantly discovering. He had to discover how to accomplish personal hygiene. (Don’t try to imagine that.) He had to determine how to get in and out of the car, the house, the bed. (I’m sure you can image that.) He had to learn how to call for help from me 20 times each hour without over-playing his sympathy card and over-stepping my patience. (Let your imagination sore on that one!)
As so many normal activities were curtailed, Dennis was somewhat forced to learn a few, new skills. One of those newly acquired aptitudes was the use of a social networking app on his cell phone. He added just about the maximum number of friends on his social platform as the application allows. He learned to post his own messages and reply to all posts from his friends. He also figured out another feature on this platform, which is a place where items can be bought and sold. This marketplace is the tech version of a yard sale.
Perhaps I need to pause her to inform you that Dennis is a salesman. He has always been one. We jokingly say that I married him because I bought what he was selling. My mother said he could sell ice to Eskimos. His business success can be rightfully attributed to his salesmanship. And even in ministry, his ability to present a vision and ask for the congregation to buy in was part of his ability to keep our church in unity of purpose.
Now that you know that characteristic of my husband, engage your imagination again. He found deals on the marketplace. He found treasures through his phone app. He determined that he could buy at a bargain rate and sell at a profit. Just about every skill set that he had ever used could be utilized. He could sell from his seat!
How joyful he was on his first buying and selling deal. He sensed a rush of endorphins and the desire to reproduce the experience. This perfectly-suited endeavor for a retired salesman quickly became Dennis’ new hobby. The dictionary says that a hobby is an activity done regularly in one’s leisure time for pleasure. Yep – this marketplace fixation fit the definition: done regularly – check; done in one’s leisure time (imagine how that fits with wheelchair bound) – check; done for pleasure – check. Yep – this marketplace fixation definitely fit the definition – Dennis found a new hobby.
Within the first week, he had purchased a set of Lenox china. The pattern was named Eternal. Can you believe it? I had soup bowls in that same pattern that I had purchased years ago to compliment a different Lenox pattern. I laid his deal on my table and described how this purchase should probably remain with me rather than finding another buyer. (Somebody’s endorphins were flowing!) He graciously agreed. After all, he had bought the set at a great deal.
His next purchase was crystal made by Fostoria. Fostoria! Oh my gosh. My mom had bequeathed me matching Coin Glass Fostoria pieces. You guessed it! My collection expanded because of his hobby. Wait! What? A Haviland Limoges Tea Set? I never had but always wanted – yep – that’s now mine. I must admit that I’m okay with Dennis’ new hobby because I now have a hobby of my own – collecting his deals. Check!