Money Talks

28

The Saturday photo challenge for today was “Money Box”. The intent was to photograph a piggy bank, but I don’t have one.

I do, however, have an old box that does contain equally old (and much older) money. Over the past (almost) year, Kirk has been working in the upstairs guest room/office/library and we bought a second desk that we installed and set up for my remote working purposes downstairs off the dining room. Kirk has changed jobs recently (it takes courage to quit a comfortable job and start a new one, in a completely new sector, in the middle of a global pandemic) and, after the first week, it has become clear that he will not be working from home anymore. So that upstairs room is now mine and I can finally escape from the parrot being a few feet from me at all times. This past week was my first full week in the office, and it was heaven.

But over the holidays we did some other work up there, removing a massive cabinet from the closet and building in a desk and shelving for craft purposes. We also then pulled out the existing craft desk, and the antique table in the middle of the room, moved up the new desk, brought in the half of my work reference books that used to be downtown until the pandemic hit, and created a haven for me that has made me so mentally happy that it probably means that I will never go back to the office downtown; instead I will likely split my future workdays between the home office, the office at the nearby hatchery, and field work…once that seems a reasonable thing to do and which considers the potential risks to the staff at the sites I work with.

Anyway, while cleaning out boxes of old “stuff” tucked in corners of the old cabinet, and in the spaces behind and around it, I came across the old box of money.

There are several stories that go along with the money in the box below, I’ll share two of them.

Below the bills are bags of coins. Some coins are from different countries I’ve visited; Francs and Centimes from France before they transitioned to the Euro, Pesos from Mexico, Reais from Brazil, a Pound and a few Pence from the UK, Euros from our last trip to the Netherlands. And some coins are just old Canadian ones; a set of Centennial coins – a penny with its rock dove, a nickel with its rabbit, the dime with its mackerel, and the quarter sporting a bobcat, I don’t have the 50 cent or dollar coins for the set though. I do have some dollar coins from other years, and a few 50 cent pieces, and some of the quarters herald back to the late 1800’s.

There is also one lonely 1983 Canadian quarter in there.

What’s special about a 1983 quarter?

It was the lowest year for mintage; they only minted about 19 million of them and so they are pretty rare to come across. I know this, because I searched for one.

Money Story Number One:

When I was still living in Prince George and going to college, I worked at a local night club. Not a waitress; I just ran the coat check and cigarette sales. I actually liked the job and never wanted to wait tables. Sure, less money, but also a LOT less hassle; I had a counter between me and the drunk idiots, and I was a bit back from the blare of the music so spent a fair bit of time visiting with friends in an area where we could enjoy the music but actually have a conversation. I think it was 50 cents to check a coat, but most people didn’t want the change and so I ended up taking a lot of quarters home as tips.

And I do mean a LOT of quarters.

The only real piggy bank I had was a product of that job. I bought a great big pink piggy bank, it was about the size of a basketball and every day, in the wee hours of the morning when I came home to catch a few hours of sleep before going to classes in the morning, I would add the quarters to the pig.

I think I worked there for about a year before deciding to take a break from my academic studies and move to Vancouver to get a trade; I went to hairdressing school thinking that if all went sideways with university I would at least always have a skill to fall back on and with which I could always find work. When I started to pack my things I emptied the piggy bank and started rolling quarters. As I did so, I examined each and every single quarter for the year. I rolled over $600 worth of quarters…that’s over 2400 quarters…and I found exactly “one” 1983 quarter.

Other than that quarter, coins have never held that much fascination for me. But I have always liked old bills. I worked in a pet store in Vancouver for a few years and so I handled a lot of money. When old bills would come through the till everyone I worked with would put them aside and ask if I wanted to swap them out. Sometimes I did.

The stack of $1 bills is mostly sequential, so that is sort of cool, and it was neat to find the American $2 bills again. They are real, though apparently not as rare as people would think. Those also came from a customer at the pet store at some point and were a novelty, so I exchanged for them.

I did at one point have $50 and $100 bills for the 1954 set, but at some point poverty and logic made me divest myself of those two. When I opened the box yesterday and pulled out the bills, I’d forgotten that I had the $20. But the bill with the story is the 1954 $5 bill.

Money Story Number Two:

My brother and sister in-law were married in Hawaii on November 11th, 1995. It was a small, immediate family only, wedding and was a welcome respite from Canadian winter for all of us. For all but Kirk and I, it was an escape from bitter cold and snow. For Kirk and I, it was an escape from the endless grey and wet.

On the flight home Kirk and I were seated with an older couple. Somewhere along the flight the in-flight service came around and drinks were being sold. The gentleman next to me opened his wallet and fished out a $5 bill, from the 1954 series, to pay for his drink. As that bill passed under my nose I stopped him and asked if I might exchange a newer $5 bill for it.

He pulled back and looked at the bill in his hand and paused a moment before lifting an electrolarynx to his throat to speak. He asked if he should give me additional money for the newer five since the old one was beat up and probably worth less….(interesting logic….). I laughed and said no, the value wasn’t any different really, I just liked old bills and didn’t have a five for that set.

So we exchanged bills or, rather, I paid the attendant for his drink with my new five and took his old one. But it started up a conversation that I will never forget.

Me: “So, are you headed home to Vancouver?”

Him: “No, we live in Hawaii”

Me: “Oh, you’re going to Vancouver for business?”

Him: “Oh no, we are retired. We’re on vacation.”

Me: “So…you live in Hawaii….(he nods)…and you are going to Vancouver …(he nods again)….in …November……(he smiles and nods).”

I stare at him….pausing to think how to respond next…..

Me: “Did you bring rain gear?”

Him: (looking surprised at the question) “No….why“

I smiled and didn’t answer, but an hour or so later, when we landed at YVR he leaned over and looked out the window. The day was a typical dreary and dark grey November day…and it was positively monsooning out.

He turned to look at me and said “I want to go home”.

Seeing that blue five dollar bill in the collection brought that funny memory bubbling to the surface.