My Two Cents

 Among the things that the current "wood chipper" administration is eliminating, is the penny. That's right, the shiny copper-colored 1 cent coin will be no more.  Its lowly amount has no place in our lives any longer and the Emperor, despite wearing no clothes, has called for its elimination.  

True, it has become mostly an irritation to most folks, but the U.S. penny one has many uses and was often a welcome addition to our pockets, change purses, and glass coin saving jars.  On occasion, people were paid solely in pennies if the person doing the paying wanted to make a statement to the recipient of the debt.  That might not be possible for too much longer.  But the fact that millions of pennies lurk in the corners of our homes and inside couch cushions and coin banks, their need may one day emerge.  

When it costs 3 cents to make 1 cent, the logic of continuing to mint pennies seems ridiculous.  Hence, the penny's demise.

But the penny once had so many uses.  There was a time when city parking meters took penny's.  As a child, I recall the distance sound of placing a penny the slot of those meters.  Each cent bought about 5 minutes.  A handful of pennies was all that was needed for a day of errand running.  Today a nickel buys a minute, a dime two, and a Quarter buys 5 or six minutes.  Feeding a parking meter is upwards of $5. for a day of shopping or running around.  A penny could once send a letter, then a postcard.  We know how often "forever" postage rates change now.  Hard to believe there once was a 1/2 cent stamp. That went by the wayside sometime in the 1950s.  Two or three of those could send a postcard.  But who sends postcards in the age of cell phones?

In childhood, the penny once was the coin of choice for buying candy and starting a coin collection.  Like many of my peers I had those little blue penny collection books.  It was very cool to heck my change and find a penny dated 1906 or perhaps one from the Great Depression dated 1932.  Then there were those dark, almost black steel looking pennies from WWII dated 1942-45 or so.  Indian head pennies were also a real find and actually did show up in your change once in a while.

When I first started teaching I taught a number of 9th grade World History classes.  There was one particular lesson on primary sources that depended on the penny.  Kids would take their seats and find a penny on their desk.  It was necessary to tell them not to disturb the penny before they had a chance to pocket it or throw it at someone or something.  Usually they still had it with them when class began.  What followed was a worksheet with a blank space and a set of questions.  

"This coin on your desk is all that remains of a once prosperous civilization," I'd announce.  In the space provided, students would first draw both sides of the coin.  Usually it had Lincoln's head on one side and the Lincoln Memorial on the other.  They'd account for all the words and numbers on either side too.  The questions involved making hypotheses about what could be learned about the civilization from just one coin.  Things like they wore beards, and built large stone buildings were discovered.  The numbers and words led to theories about language and time.  

For a squirrelly class of ninth graders this was always a successful lesson that cost no more than37 cents.

There is one memory of pennies that still hurts.  It was tied to blind antisemitism during my Junior High years.  Kids would throw pennies at those suspected of "being a Jew."  This learned stereotype  was practiced by those vulnerable to hate and ignorance.  One time, after witnessing such behavior, I even heard one kid  say to another, "Do you know why Jews have such big noses?  It' where they put all the pennies."  

Ha Ha, Motherfucker.    A penny for my thoughts?

Nobody is going to miss the penny.  Its value has disappeared.  It is now obsolete.  But its history as a symbol of a simpler time will long remain.  It speaks volumes about the civilization that created it.

Letting Go

 I continue to deal with the question of what to do with all the material things one manages to collect during a lifetime. I have downsized a bit, but there is always more.  What I'm finding is that it's much more difficult to throw away letters, cards, and photographs than objects.

I want to give them some sort of ceremony before I put this ephemera in a trash can.  Burning things in a fireplace seems like the way to go, but that's not possible these days.  Tearing up things I would rather nobody read or see seems rather crude and cruel.  Sure, nobody will know, but it's difficult to destroy art and notes that were originally filled with love and concern.

To make matters worse, I've recently been sent envelopes of similar things that once belonged to a good friend of mine.  After he died, his partner began sending me records, books, and some of his fly fishing gear.  Now I'm getting newspaper clippings, cards, and bits and pieces of his books, chapbooks, and knick knacks.  Perhaps if I create my own ceremony by placing everything I decide I don't need to keep in a small shoebox type container, I can let go of all this clutter in a respectful manner.  Sort of a coffin type deal.  

The landfill is hardly a good home, not exactly the ocean, but it serves the purpose.  It's a letting go, a final farewell.  If you are going to move on, you really have to move some of the trappings of a lifetime on as well.

It's also a good way to clear out some of the small boxes that I keep accumulating.

Play Time

 Play is the work of childhood.  So the experts tell us.  But a child's play is no longer what it once was.  Child psychologists have recently expressed concern that children today are losing valuable skills because their play and playtime has been rapidly changing.  These changes include more adult supervision and less time outside.  

One of the consequences of this seems to be the inablility to solve conflicts on their own.  

This got me thinking.  How does children's play today differ from what was play in my childhood.  One obvious difference is that children rarely play outside in their neighborhoods any more.  Gone are in the street baseball games and summertime classics like "red light, green light."  

To be sure, the rise of computer technology has a lot to do with this.  Combined with the fear of childhood abduction, it's easy to see why the neighborhood issue quiet outside these days.  What a tradeoff.  

It's been over 60 years since I've played any baseball in the street.  But there was a time when it was a daily occurrence.  At 8 years of age, a manhole cover made a good home plate, and a driveway a perfect warning track.  On rare occasions if there were only a few kids, we actually played on our front lawns.  My neighbors had one side of their lawn framed off by a hedge.  Pyracantha bushes as I remember.  It made a perfect ivy covered wall like the one at Wrigley Field in Chicago.  We used a tennis ball to avoid breaking any windows should a foul ball go astray.

In my hood we "announced" our games.  One kid or the team at bat, would emulate our favorite baseball announcers, deftly substituting our own last names in with Willie Mays, Duke Snyder, or Roberto Clemente.  

Yes, back then, there were girls games and boys games.  That's just the way it was.  But in my neighborhood, all the kids between the ages of about 7-11 played together.  These games tested the limits of our imaginations and while they were faithful to the prevailing sex roles of the time, they served to teach and enforce all the social skills needed.  

In looking back, I marvel at some of the more elaborate games that I concocted with my childhood mates.  We played "office" when a neighbor place some file folders in the trash.  They were filled with old memos, receipts and miscellaneous documents from a local ice cream distributor.  They looked good to us, and we set up homemade file cabinets, offices with intercoms and secretaries, and name plaques for the executives.  There were coffee breaks (water) and big meetings taking place all the time.  Office was perfect for a rainy day or bad weather of any kind.

In my neighborhood we had all manner of original games.  We played "television" fashioning TV cameras from old blocks of wood and hanging up an old bedspread as a curtain.  "Circus" was a favorite that featured various tricks performed in and around a swings.  When my uncle gave my folks some boxes of used bowling pins another opportunity presented.  He worked for various bowling alleys refinishing the lanes and the old wooden pins made great firewood.  We regularly received a few boxes for our fireplace.  My friends and I pulled out a set of ten in reasonably good condition; no splinters and good paint.  A basketball served as a bowling ball, and we opened our garage bowling alley mush to the joy of my playmates.  We had a bar too!

Yes, I see how many of those sex roles were reinforced by these games.  But our consciousness would be raised in due time.  I often wonder if these games actually made it easier for us to understand how and why these changes were needed.

I know those days and those games are gone, forever.  But there are still ways that children, left on their own, can create their own imaginary worlds.  In what seems like just a few yers ago, my nieces kids, all young adults now, used to play with their grandmothers costume jewelry.  They'd put a hat on me, adorn me with earrings and necklaces and rings, proclaim me the "King."  I was only too happy to oblige, despite looking rather foolish.  I'd like to think this activity made us all a little healthier, mentally

Worst Case

 While the country waits for another Super Bowl, the slow moving coup we're undergoing inches along.  The Constitution quakes, splinters, and seems less relevant every day.  Its unbroken record is serious threatened.  This is no bank crisis that Andrew Jackson faced, this is no civi war, not yet because the house is divided.  This is no Watergate.  This is raw power in the hands of a sociopath and a tech billionaire somewhere on the spectrum.  

Congress needs a refresher course on Separation of Powers.  Why are many in both houses so willing to offer up their share?  The Trump juggernaut rolls over everything in its path.  Where is the outrage from his own party?

The guy hasn't read a book in years.  That's why he can so easily revert to imperialism to back up his strong leanings toward racism, colonialism, and condescension.  He's a walking mess when it comes to understanding history and other cultures.  That's why we can't expect anything other than what we're getting.  

I want to hear from those who willfully placed their vote in his column.  When the regret hits, I want to know what they feel like.  Maybe they feel as little as he does.  Maybe they reserve their emotions for NFL games only.  

Now that the main event is in full swing, we await the chance to change our seats.  If a few Congressional seats can be flipped, the battle for the Constitution will rival any football bowl game.  A line will have been drawn in the sand and the politicos will have to say something or live by their silence.

Of all the changes that the blitzkrieg strategy of Elon Musk and Donals Trump have wrought so far, the one that stands out the most is the gutting of USAID.  This foreign policy strategy has gone counter to the notion of the "Ugly American" more than any other in recent memory. It's apparent that so many of the world's most vulnerable people depend on these programs for food, medicine and other basic human needs.  There is something particularly repugnant about the world's richest man and a would-be dictator teaming up to cut off these people.  In the name of America, this must be overturned at once.