seven cents. somewhere, somehow that amount of currency got to be an inside joke with me and my father. and i don’t have a clue what that was about. i should ask him. but, every time i hear it or get it or see it, i think of him. funny, since in order to get it, you have to get currency that is currently under scrutiny to be changed. the penny costs more to make than its worth(1), and if the nickel isn’t in the same boat, it’s mighty close.

i was walking in the rain yesterday, trying to get my phone number transferred over to a real, live, have-to-pay-for-it account, and i saw two shiny pennies on the street. since i was crossing in front of cars (with the light, thankyouverymuch), i nearly didn’t pick them up. but, since i nearly always pick up pennies (it’s still money, yo) and these were shining out in a day of cold darkness, i made myself. they were absolutely mangled and wrecked, ostensibly from cars running over them?

then, when i was walking home around midnight-thirty after the last scotland yard gospel choir show at schubas, i saw something else that looked like it might be money as well. it was a nickel that was even more badly wounded than its penny counterparts. i picked it up, and realized i had seven war-weary cents.

(1)i was depositing some money into the business account for work, and really read the little note by the FDIC sticker while waiting for the kid, and it says that each depositor is insured for $100,000. you know, after all the crazy shit went down after the depression, right? and i thought … if things got depression crazy again, and everyone were to get $100,000 who had that much in the bank, the banks would be FUCKED. there’s NO WAY they could guarantee that much*. at least, that’s what i’m thinking.

*the wiki article says the TAXPAYERS bailed out the ’80s S&L shit. niiice.


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