“Oh? What kind of surprise, Zelda?”

“You know how you’re always complaining about not having enough money for all the concerts you want to see, like Kittie or Red Hot Chili Peppers?”

“Wait a minute, Zelda. What do you mean, ‘always complaining?’ All I said was that I wish we had a little extra cash so that we could see Bob Dylan.”

“And Ian Moore, , Isis and Ladysmith Black Mambazo.”

“Well, okay. Maybe I was complaining. Anyway, what’s the surprise?”

“I was at the mall, and there was a TV crew taping an episode of the Antique Ticket Road Show.”

“You mean that show where people bring precious heirlooms and trade them in for concert tickets like Tower Of Power or Korn?”

“Exactly.”

“How exciting!”

“Tell me about it. I saw this one lady trade a 1910, hand-cranked defibrillator for a pair of Alanis Morissette tickets.”

“Wow!”

“That’s not all. A man from Tennessee traded a 1892, foot-pedal driven dialysis machine for tickets to see Phish and The Other Ones.”

“Incredible!”

“And a woman from South Dakota traded Wild Bill Hickock’s spittoon for a pair of Don Henley tickets.”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’ll say. You could still see Wild Bill’s spit crusted around the edges. I’m telling you, Harold, people were trading all sorts of things for concert tickets to see bands like Down and The Strokes, or artists like Paul McCartney, Cher and Prince.”

“Wait a minute. Didn’t you say you had a surprise for me?”

“I sure did. When I saw all those people trading their family heirlooms for concert tickets to see Yes and Tool, I rushed right home and gathered up all that old stuff you had packed away in the garage. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t… Hold on a sec. What ‘old stuff.'”

“Oh, nothing important. For instance, there was that old Superman comic book that you never read.”

“But that was a first edition.”

“And then there was that Picasso sitting in the corner gathering dust.”

“The Picasso? But, Zelda, it wasn’t gathering dust. I was just waiting until I found the perfect frame for it before I hung it in the rec room.”

“Whatever. Plus, there was that copy of the Gettysburg Address signed by Abe Lincoln, Alexander Graham Bell’s first telephone and Ted Williams’ baseball bat. Luckily it thawed during the drive back to the mall. Anyway, I threw everything into a box and look what it got me.”

“Uh? First row seats for The Rolling Stones at the ?”

“That’s right. Do I know how to trade, or do I know how to trade?”

“But, Zelda, all that stuff in the garage was priceless. Do you mean to say that you exchanged everything, including my original copy of the Declaration of Independence and Lizzie Grubman’s Driver’s Ed. certificate, in an even trade for a couple of Stones tickets?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Harold, I didn’t exchange all those rare collectibles for tickets to see The Stones.”

“Whew! For a moment you really had me worried, Zelda.”

“I had to throw in $25 to cover the difference.”