Gold vs. Old

A couple weeks ago I went in search of some garage sales, as I do most Saturdays. Logan constantly tells me to keep my eyes out for items that I can sell on eBay. I can really make a profit on my hobby if I try, he tells me.

When I saw a couple Care Bears at a garage sale in West Lawrence I thought I had the jack pot. Surely, I could get around 30 bucks off of the big one I though and maybe $10-12 off of the little one. I purchased two Care Bears for $1.50 and got home to find they are apparently worth just that. The highest going out-of-the-box Care Bear I could find on eBay sold for only a couple bucks. I did end up going back to that same garage sale later that morning after I told Logan they had several video games there. He dug a little more than I did and found an entire collection of Grateful Dead albums. This is the kind of stuff you could really sell on eBay, we however are keeping them for our own personal collection even though we do not have a record player.

This whole incident inspired me to write a new blog segment called Gold versus Old. It’s my version of “Hot or Not.” Some things really are worth gold, while others are just simply old.

Gold: Original Grateful Dead albums. The albums Logan snagged at that garage sale are priceless, or around $30 a piece on eBay if you are going to put a price on them. But to us they are historical memorabilia that we hope to pass down to the next generation.

Old: Care Bears. Who knew? To me these stuffed animals will always be valuable. But apparently they aren’t to the general public. Logan also told me a lot of parents don’t like buying used toys for their kids because of the germs. That comment set me off on a pro-germ soap box. How are kids going to develop a strong immune system if they aren’t exposed to germs.

Gold: Environmentally friendly cleaning products. I’m trying to go green when it comes to cleaning, if for no other reason than the scent of Clorox with bleach makes me want to vomit. Clorox now has a non-bleach, green all-purpose cleaner that I have been using for my counters. And I am a firm believer in using water and vinegar on wood floors, although you might not think so judging by how little I actually clean mine.

Old: Sexist salesmen. Speaking of environmentally friendly cleaning products, I had a door-to-door salesman come by the other day with some concentrated orange all-purpose cleaner. The cleaner could be used on floors, windows, class, counters and even cars. I was sold on the product until he made some wise crack about a woman’s place being in the home. This was a direct sale fail. Don’t let the yoga pants, pony tail and wedding ring fool you buddy, being a stay-at-home wife is not my career.

Gold: States that promote equality by allowing same-sex marriage.

Old: DOMA

Gold: The fall. With cooler weather, seasonal amber ales and football, how can you not love the fall?

Old: Summer. So long 115 degree days.

These are my confessions

This week has been full of revelations for me. Yesterday, for whatever reason, I got the Usher song Confessions in my head, so I thought maybe I would share a few of my confessions on my blog. Don’t worry, none of my confessions are quite as juicy as Ushers.

1. I’m not a Bob Marley fan. I’m not actually into the reggae genre at all. It’s just not my thing.

2. Babies scare me. They didn’t used to. I baby sat all the time as a teenager and had no problem. Back then I didn’t realize how much damage I could do to the little ones. I didn’t even know what the term liability meant. And there seem to be much more gadgets for babies now days then there used to be. Truthfully, I feel like I don’t quite know what to do when I’m left alone with a baby. And I feel an extreme since of relief when Logan and I hang out with couples who don’t have children, and don’t seem to be trying to either.

3. I liked Tina Fey’s book Bossypants, but I didn’t LOVE it. I think the fact that it seemed so “eh” actually made me like Tina Fey more. Because truthfully, it’s hard to really like someone who seems ridiculously perfect. Tina Fey’s book was a funny, down-to-earth quick read that I liked, especially where she calls out the breast feeding Nazis. (You’ll have to read the book to see what I’m talking about. :))

4. I wish I had people over for tea more often. One of my cousin’s got me cutest tea pot for my wedding and I really haven’t used it much. Probably because it’s been 115 degrees, but still. When I lived in my apartment I used to have people over for tea. I don’t do that any more and I really wish I did.

5. I’m not much of an animal person. I love Gunther, but I probably wouldn’t choose to have another pet after he dies. Maybe I’ll change my mind. Puggles are really cute, but I just don’t feel suited for taking care of live things, whether it’s a plant, animal or human.

6. I could never be a nurse. I wrote about nurses for three years and think it’s a great profession, but I don’t think I have the empathy to do the job. When someone asked me for pain medications for a minor wound or injury, I would have to fight the urge to say, “Are you serious? Suck it up.”

7. I fear my lack of empathy makes me an overall awful human being, or at the very least a bad wife. Three sayings the Hoskin family lived by from childhood memories are: life’s not fair, suck it up, and tough it out. I sometimes expect other people to have these mantras for their personal lives. But when it comes to systematic injustices I have compassion down. I hope that balances me out enough to at least be someone people would like to have a beer with. I think it does.

8. I really like McDonald’s.

Living a good story

I had lunch with my grandma and grandpa last Friday. One of the things I like best about spending time with my grandparents is the stories my grandpa tells. My grandpa likes to tell some doozies, some are true, some are completely fiction.

On Friday Grandpa told me about his childhood visits to his grandfathers. Apparently my great-great-grandfather lived next to a black night club called the Sugary Peach. My grandpa said wild things happened at the Sugery Peach- bar fights, stabbings, all the typical riffraff you’d expect from an establishment in Missouri.*

If my great-great-grandfather had lived in an uneventful cul-de-sac, I doubt my grandpa would have as interesting stories about his childhood. Everyone knows it’s the turmoil and trials that make a story worth retelling.

In Donald Miller’s latest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, he challenges his readers to view their lives as a story. He challenges us to live a good story. Miller said good stories start with inciting incidents that propel you forward. Losing my job and getting married are probably the biggest inciting incidents of my life thus far.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of story I’m living lately. I’m in a transition career wise, and in my first months of marriage, so it’s a good time for self evaluation. I know what kind of story I lived during my childhood, adolescents and early 20s, but what will my story be as I enter this new face of adulthood? What will my story be now that I actually feel like an adult? What will the conflicts, rising action and plot include?

My past has never lacked drama. And in the absence of conflict, I have to admit, I have a knack for creating tension myself. I know what you are thinking, Arley dramatic? Never! It’s true, it’s true, at times I’ve been known to be a drama mama. I can’t help but wonder, if writers in general sabotage themselves for the sake of a good story.

I’ve decided that I want my story to be more than drama, for dramas sake. Bart Campolo once told me the best way to get out of a complacent slump is to look around at the things in society that really piss you off, like perhaps the state closing Lawrence’s SRS building. Take on those battles, Campolo said, and you’ll have a fulfilling life. Take on those battles and you’ll create a great story.

As a married couple, I feel like Logan and I are living a great story so far. He balances out my social activism with fun projects like pimping out our bikes (they are retro Schwinns) or brewing some tasty beer. Someday we hope our story will include some baby Arkenbergs. And my dream is that years from now our children will ride their own shiny Schwinns with a heart of compassion that naturally advocates for the underdog.


*While I and some of my family members have lived in Missouri at some point in time, I would like to state that my blood line is Kansan through and through. I bleed crimson and blue.