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PENNYS
PENNIES
Ever since I began picking cucumbers, I've had this desire to collect coins. I was around10 years old when I started working for my summer spending money down in the orchards, and fields in the valley bordered by different size cities, towns, industrial, commercial, residential and just simple family farmers. My two brothers and me had school buddys that had picked cucumbers before and invited us one summer in this very painful back breaking, money making filthy dirty job, and we were grateful for it. Key word: 'were.'
Even though we had to get up before sunrise and do it until the picking season played out for cucumbers, there was light at the end of the tunnel. But, by then we were just beginning to have fun, until suckered into picking up potatoes behind a tractor. Some picked beans, though. Then it was time to join in on the fun and games on another farm, picking blueberries. There was once, a few years later, I took a ferry over to an island and picked cherries, also for summer money.
During lunch, and being picked up to go home, we usually walked a short way up the road to the busy main road where it made it easier for being picked up, or catching the bus. Close to the bus stop, there was an old white colored shack containing old pop and candy machines, and snacks im sure. On a few occasions, my change got stuck. There weren't any adults around, so I commenced to beating up on that rip off mean machine that took my money. This happened enough times that after the season was over, I actually said goodbye, and waved slightly to it through the car window, when we drove by it for the last time.
The reason my money had gotten stuck was somebody tried using coins from different countrys in it. The cojns must have gotten stuck, somewhere in a little nitch somewhere in the change mechanism, allowing the machine to function properly, at times, to still be continually refilled with its product. And maybe the owner was too busy reloading product in it, so quickly dumped the change into a bag, with not knowing its parasite of coins it harbored, and moved on to the next machine. This could have been going on for years. A 1937 Buffalo nickel once came out, and lots of other old american coins, and like I said, other coins from different countrys. There were a few tax tokens and old bus tokens as well. Beating on it and rocking that machine provided me with the start of my first coin collection. I lost that one somewhere, somehow, but I keep starting over.
So far, I've collected so many different collections of different things in my life, it seems I'm collecting collections. I've even bought multiple collections and partial collections in the past at the same time, or even only one thing. But thats another story.
Besides something extremely awesome in just having, I never did any of this collecting of things for anything other than money, even though I really never needed extra money since I always had a job and I rarely sold anything, even cars, that I"ve had alot of. Thats probably due to the two times of having to go out and find my cars after selling them with a promise to get paid before watching my cars head on down the road. Got both back just by seeing them on the side of the road, abandoned. Both cars had their wiring harnesses laid out allover the underside of the dash when i found the cars twenty miles apart from each other. I collected paper once by borrowing sheets of paper without the intention of repaying them back. Besides of that being theiving, I suppose that dont count but I'm telling about it any way, so just handle it. This will only take a second. In the ninth grade, it seemed to me that I was the only one being picked on and had to always be the one punished by having to write sentences. I guess I might have disrupted the class a bit too much. That was probably why I sat up front on a stool with my back to the class all the time. And by myself on the floor outside the door in one class during the seventh grade. I guess I hadn't come to terms with my chronic chemical imbalance or even knew I was bi-polar, or had attention disorder malfunctioning in me, in which, now I'm thinking that this might have been the cause of most of the hell in my life I used to blame myself for.
I was even punched in the stomach two different times, by two different people for bugging them in the morning and waking them up. One time I was punched on the chin by a coworker. I had gotten a bloody nose for almost breaking a guys legs with my first car, a 64 Chevy Impala.
He was sitting on the tailgate of his truck when i parked my car behind him on a fairly steep downhill street. We were getting ready for the starting of some kind of an outside sit and watch somethingeruther ordeal. I dont recall how or why my car started to roll forward and downward towards his dangling legs as he sat there totally oblivious to my car coming his way. When my car stopped, it was pinching his legs between my bumper and him.
My car wasn't running and the keys weren't even in the ignition, so I started to panic looking all around me for the keys. When I finally found them and started the car, I noticed that he was struggling to get free, pulling on his thighs with both hands. By that time i was in total panic mode and shifted it into drive. I gave it gas and then saw the tailgate and him raise upwards a little. Then put it into park and then I put it into drive again giving it gas. I guess something was telling me that just more time oughta do it, I don't know why, but I did it one more time. Right after that, I realized what I was doing wrong. I put it into reverse, pulled back a few feet and then put it into park.
My head was spinning and all I could think of doing was to roll my window down and tell him that I was sorry and ask if he was alright. I got the window down only partially by the time he got to my window and had my door open and found his mark hitting me squarely in the face. He walked away pissed off looking back at me then to his truck then back one more time the whole time with his hands flailing around yelling and cussing all the way to his cab door. He left then i took off after a bit only after my nose stopped bleeding. Last one; A semi good friend, (between aquaintance and friend) had once wanted to get even with me for something i did that was a bit dishonest that thought I had gotten away with, and had started a physical fight with me, but after a moment of fighting he didn't want to continue on. I figured it was because, I landed a nice punch to his face, giving him bloody nose. When the blood from his nose started, he grabbed me and began apologizing for starting it, held me in a tight hug while dripping blood profusely from his nose on to the top of my head. He was around a head taller than me almost a foot, and of course we all know liquids take the path of least resistance, but in this case it was gravity. All right, I know im short, Sorry, that was me this time reminding me, sorry. The blood dripped all over me and the shirt I had just bought with a picture of me and my first wife on it. I felt that i had it coming. So I didnt pull away from him right away. And also, I suppose he just wanted me to be sure I knew that he knew that the twenty i jacked from him he knew I knew he staged this. So now if he's still alive and reads this, he'll know i know it was competition a we could graduate to being best friends. Isn't that how that works? It could happen.
And so now its considered to be blood money, or something like that. It did cost twenty for two of those shirts with our pictures of my ex wife and mine put on them. Oops, I lied...I got fired from a job making computer chips for not paying attention to detail. The list goes on, but I never got a clue about my less than normal handicap til years later when I hit the low of lows and went to a doctor, but that too, is another story. Or that story might be in another story. I call it going off on tangents. I always hope I can get back to the original story. So far so good, except this happens alot telling stories or just simply talking. Thats probably why their heads would turn away rude like, and pick up on some other person or persons discussions leaving me looking like I was crazy by having a talk with that invisible semi aquaintance( between no one there and the pretend guy we catch ourselves talking to when we are alone at times).
Why call it handicap anyway? There's nothing handy about feeling like you're wearing a dunce hat most of the time.
Just recently, I began to learn as much about coins that I could without interfering too much with my already questionable sanity.
The things that I got from staying with coin collecting by setting aside all other interest is if you get paid for a thing, its exactly the same with everything, and it don't matter whatever it is you believe its worth, its worth only as much as someone is willing to give you for it.
There's a penny thats been auctioned off with one of the highest, if not the highest price ever paid in the history of America. Its the 1969s DDO Lincoln cent. DDO means double die obverse. It's an error coin meaning they screwed up making it. Not alot of them have been found that bare the doubling as strongly as those extremely rare ones that got those hundreds of thousands of dollar amounts of money they play such a huge part in history in. There's lesser cases, moneywise, where the penny is slightly double having to use a magnifying glass to see that it is or isn't a legitimate 1969s DDO. IT took a very long time before finally understanding the difference, so thats not gonna happen trying to explain it right now. Ah, screw. Just look at the mint mark(s), if thats perfect, and there's slight doubling on the date, and most of the letters of the words, its a keeper. The more thats doubled the more its likely you could fetch in dollars if it goes to auction. It won't be in the hundreds of thousands, more like tens of thousands. Watch out for counterfeit ones, which i found one of,, cause they say that this penny is the biggest coin ever to be counterfeited. Let me just say, that it is because of this coin, I've been spending most of my time with coin collecting and have alot of coins, especially penny's.
Before I knew exactly what to look for in the 69, I took it and some of my others to a reputable coin dealership and was told that the only ones she was interested in was an Indian head penny and a pre-1965 quarter which was almost pure silver. She offered 75 cents for the penny and a couple dollars for the quarter saying the others were face value. I sold the quarter. Since then, I found the penny I thought was thee one, checked it out, and she was right, not a 1969sDDO. Its something they say is mechanically doubled and not worth much or just a cent. So far, since, I've found two for sure, and two others that I believe to be legitimate ones, but I have to get better lighting for the pictures I take, and those ass hole demons keep making it impossible to get a good shot. Here it is... FOR ANYONE WHO DOESNT WANT TO EVER LOOK AT A PENNY DIFFERENTLY FROM THIS POINT ON, SHOULD STOP READING THIS! To be continued
Ever since I began picking cucumbers, I've had this desire to collect coins. I was around10 years old when I started working for my summer spending money down in the orchards, and fields in the valley bordered by different size cities, towns, industrial, commercial, residential and just simple family farmers. My two brothers and me had school buddys that had picked cucumbers before and invited us one summer in this very painful back breaking, money making filthy dirty job, and we were grateful for it. Key word: 'were.'
Even though we had to get up before sunrise and do it until the picking season played out for cucumbers, there was light at the end of the tunnel. But, by then we were just beginning to have fun, until suckered into picking up potatoes behind a tractor. Some picked beans, though. Then it was time to join in on the fun and games on another farm, picking blueberries. There was once, a few years later, I took a ferry over to an island and picked cherries, also for summer money.
During lunch, and being picked up to go home, we usually walked a short way up the road to the busy main road where it made it easier for being picked up, or catching the bus. Close to the bus stop, there was an old white colored shack containing old pop and candy machines, and snacks im sure. On a few occasions, my change got stuck. There weren't any adults around, so I commenced to beating up on that rip off mean machine that took my money. This happened enough times that after the season was over, I actually said goodbye, and waved slightly to it through the car window, when we drove by it for the last time.
The reason my money had gotten stuck was somebody tried using coins from different countrys in it. The cojns must have gotten stuck, somewhere in a little nitch somewhere in the change mechanism, allowing the machine to function properly, at times, to still be continually refilled with its product. And maybe the owner was too busy reloading product in it, so quickly dumped the change into a bag, with not knowing its parasite of coins it harbored, and moved on to the next machine. This could have been going on for years. A 1937 Buffalo nickel once came out, and lots of other old american coins, and like I said, other coins from different countrys. There were a few tax tokens and old bus tokens as well. Beating on it and rocking that machine provided me with the start of my first coin collection. I lost that one somewhere, somehow, but I keep starting over.
So far, I've collected so many different collections of different things in my life, it seems I'm collecting collections. I've even bought multiple collections and partial collections in the past at the same time, or even only one thing. But thats another story.
Besides something extremely awesome in just having, I never did any of this collecting of things for anything other than money, even though I really never needed extra money since I always had a job and I rarely sold anything, even cars, that I"ve had alot of. Thats probably due to the two times of having to go out and find my cars after selling them with a promise to get paid before watching my cars head on down the road. Got both back just by seeing them on the side of the road, abandoned. Both cars had their wiring harnesses laid out allover the underside of the dash when i found the cars twenty miles apart from each other. I collected paper once by borrowing sheets of paper without the intention of repaying them back. Besides of that being theiving, I suppose that dont count but I'm telling about it any way, so just handle it. This will only take a second. In the ninth grade, it seemed to me that I was the only one being picked on and had to always be the one punished by having to write sentences. I guess I might have disrupted the class a bit too much. That was probably why I sat up front on a stool with my back to the class all the time. And by myself on the floor outside the door in one class during the seventh grade. I guess I hadn't come to terms with my chronic chemical imbalance or even knew I was bi-polar, or had attention disorder malfunctioning in me, in which, now I'm thinking that this might have been the cause of most of the hell in my life I used to blame myself for.
I was even punched in the stomach two different times, by two different people for bugging them in the morning and waking them up. One time I was punched on the chin by a coworker. I had gotten a bloody nose for almost breaking a guys legs with my first car, a 64 Chevy Impala.
He was sitting on the tailgate of his truck when i parked my car behind him on a fairly steep downhill street. We were getting ready for the starting of some kind of an outside sit and watch somethingeruther ordeal. I dont recall how or why my car started to roll forward and downward towards his dangling legs as he sat there totally oblivious to my car coming his way. When my car stopped, it was pinching his legs between my bumper and him.
My car wasn't running and the keys weren't even in the ignition, so I started to panic looking all around me for the keys. When I finally found them and started the car, I noticed that he was struggling to get free, pulling on his thighs with both hands. By that time i was in total panic mode and shifted it into drive. I gave it gas and then saw the tailgate and him raise upwards a little. Then put it into park and then I put it into drive again giving it gas. I guess something was telling me that just more time oughta do it, I don't know why, but I did it one more time. Right after that, I realized what I was doing wrong. I put it into reverse, pulled back a few feet and then put it into park.
My head was spinning and all I could think of doing was to roll my window down and tell him that I was sorry and ask if he was alright. I got the window down only partially by the time he got to my window and had my door open and found his mark hitting me squarely in the face. He walked away pissed off looking back at me then to his truck then back one more time the whole time with his hands flailing around yelling and cussing all the way to his cab door. He left then i took off after a bit only after my nose stopped bleeding. Last one; A semi good friend, (between aquaintance and friend) had once wanted to get even with me for something i did that was a bit dishonest that thought I had gotten away with, and had started a physical fight with me, but after a moment of fighting he didn't want to continue on. I figured it was because, I landed a nice punch to his face, giving him bloody nose. When the blood from his nose started, he grabbed me and began apologizing for starting it, held me in a tight hug while dripping blood profusely from his nose on to the top of my head. He was around a head taller than me almost a foot, and of course we all know liquids take the path of least resistance, but in this case it was gravity. All right, I know im short, Sorry, that was me this time reminding me, sorry. The blood dripped all over me and the shirt I had just bought with a picture of me and my first wife on it. I felt that i had it coming. So I didnt pull away from him right away. And also, I suppose he just wanted me to be sure I knew that he knew that the twenty i jacked from him he knew I knew he staged this. So now if he's still alive and reads this, he'll know i know it was competition a we could graduate to being best friends. Isn't that how that works? It could happen.
And so now its considered to be blood money, or something like that. It did cost twenty for two of those shirts with our pictures of my ex wife and mine put on them. Oops, I lied...I got fired from a job making computer chips for not paying attention to detail. The list goes on, but I never got a clue about my less than normal handicap til years later when I hit the low of lows and went to a doctor, but that too, is another story. Or that story might be in another story. I call it going off on tangents. I always hope I can get back to the original story. So far so good, except this happens alot telling stories or just simply talking. Thats probably why their heads would turn away rude like, and pick up on some other person or persons discussions leaving me looking like I was crazy by having a talk with that invisible semi aquaintance( between no one there and the pretend guy we catch ourselves talking to when we are alone at times).
Why call it handicap anyway? There's nothing handy about feeling like you're wearing a dunce hat most of the time.
Just recently, I began to learn as much about coins that I could without interfering too much with my already questionable sanity.
The things that I got from staying with coin collecting by setting aside all other interest is if you get paid for a thing, its exactly the same with everything, and it don't matter whatever it is you believe its worth, its worth only as much as someone is willing to give you for it.
There's a penny thats been auctioned off with one of the highest, if not the highest price ever paid in the history of America. Its the 1969s DDO Lincoln cent. DDO means double die obverse. It's an error coin meaning they screwed up making it. Not alot of them have been found that bare the doubling as strongly as those extremely rare ones that got those hundreds of thousands of dollar amounts of money they play such a huge part in history in. There's lesser cases, moneywise, where the penny is slightly double having to use a magnifying glass to see that it is or isn't a legitimate 1969s DDO. IT took a very long time before finally understanding the difference, so thats not gonna happen trying to explain it right now. Ah, screw. Just look at the mint mark(s), if thats perfect, and there's slight doubling on the date, and most of the letters of the words, its a keeper. The more thats doubled the more its likely you could fetch in dollars if it goes to auction. It won't be in the hundreds of thousands, more like tens of thousands. Watch out for counterfeit ones, which i found one of,, cause they say that this penny is the biggest coin ever to be counterfeited. Let me just say, that it is because of this coin, I've been spending most of my time with coin collecting and have alot of coins, especially penny's.
Before I knew exactly what to look for in the 69, I took it and some of my others to a reputable coin dealership and was told that the only ones she was interested in was an Indian head penny and a pre-1965 quarter which was almost pure silver. She offered 75 cents for the penny and a couple dollars for the quarter saying the others were face value. I sold the quarter. Since then, I found the penny I thought was thee one, checked it out, and she was right, not a 1969sDDO. Its something they say is mechanically doubled and not worth much or just a cent. So far, since, I've found two for sure, and two others that I believe to be legitimate ones, but I have to get better lighting for the pictures I take, and those ass hole demons keep making it impossible to get a good shot. Here it is... FOR ANYONE WHO DOESNT WANT TO EVER LOOK AT A PENNY DIFFERENTLY FROM THIS POINT ON, SHOULD STOP READING THIS! To be continued
