Roll 'em Roll 'em Roll 'em - again

Here's the thing. In the never ending journey to be productive during the lockdown, I decided to start rolling all the spare change I have cluttering up my dresser top, jean pockets and random dishes around the house.

Then I thought it might be a fun blogpost. That's when I remembered it was a fun blogpost because I wrote about this very subject about five years ago.

And of course, being big on not reinventing the wheel and wanting to get back to bingeing Breaking Bad (again), instead of writing a whole new post I thought you'd enjoy reliving the joy, humor and insight of this one. I know I will.

It's the blogpost that keeps on giving. Don't be surprised if you see it again when we're in month six of self-quarantining. Please to enjoy.

They're everywhere. In jars on the bookshelf, glass bowls on the dresser, the bottom of drawers and jean pockets.

Pennies. The Fredo of the coin world.

I've always been a big proponent of change (SWIDT?). Especially since I drive a car that has a special compartment for it. Armed with quarters, nickels and dimes, I fear no parking meter.

The problem is the thing I use change for the most I can't use pennies for. I know there's a movement to do away with the penny. But I'm not for it.

After all, what will we leave for the next person in that little plastic dish at the car wash and liquor store if we banish the penny? It's a cheap way of feeling like you're doing something good for someone else without actually doing anything good for them.

I know it costs more to make a penny than the penny's worth, but I don't believe that's the issue.I believe it's an organizational problem. So I decided to be an example for my family and the nation by doing something about it.

Today I took all my pennies and dumped them on the bed. Then, counting in two's fifty-cents at a time, I rolled them into bank coin sleeves.

I wound up with $3.50. That's 350 pennies. See how easy math is with pennies?

I even found a relatively rare 1956 D penny in the pile. Depending on which eBay listing you believe, it's worth either $1.60 or $498. I choose to believe the second one.

I'd be curious to know how many people think the same way as I do about pennies.

And I'll bet you know exactly how much I'll pay for your thoughts on it.

Balancing act

As well as you know me, this won't come as any surprise.

There are the few rare and in between occasions where I can be what I suppose some people would call compulsive.

I prefer to think of it as laser focused.

For example, at the craps tables. Or getting Springsteen tickets to 47 shows on the tour. Say it with me: Breaking Bad.

But while those are just a few of the pleasurable pursuits I enjoy directing my compulsiveness...er...focus towards, there are other, more practical ways it expresses itself.

Laundry. I challenge you here and now to a towel, t-shirt and sock folding contest (I'm looking at you Carmen Dorr). Seriously, tread lightly and prepare for disappointment. Not only am I extremely good at it, I enjoy doing it. Which is why you don't stand a chance.

Are you the kind of person who thinks they've loaded a dishwasher to capacity, even though you still have a sink and a half full of dirty dishes? Step aside rookie. I'll reorganize your dishes in the washer, put in all the ones in the sink and still have room for that serving dish you were going to wash by hand. I'm like John Nash in A Beautiful Mind: I can see the dishes all in their proper place even before I've put the first one in.

There's one place more than all the rest where I'm relentless about making it work out exactly the way it should—balancing my checkbook.

It's an old school notion, but I still get paper bank statements. I like them. I can write the numbers on them, check off the line items as I reconcile them and easily backtrack if I need to. Almost every time, it balances to the penny, which brings me a kind of happiness few things do.

Occasionally though it's off by either a few cents, or a few hundred dollars. When that happens, I put on the green visor (figuratively-green isn't really my color) and go through my find-my-mistake ritual.

First up is checking the addition in my checkbook register. I know there are apps for that, but I like doing it. I'm Columbo on a case to find the missing pennies ("Excuse me, just one more thing..."). If that doesn't solve it, I start adding the outstanding checks and uncredited deposits. Sometimes it's a few minutes, rarely it's a few hours. But I never give up, and eventually I find the error. And I always wind up with a balanced checkbook for the month.

I know I could get online statements and do it all from my laptop. But it wouldn't give me the same feeling of accomplishment putting pen to paper and figuring it out does.

I could go on and on about the joys of checkbook balancing, but I Love Lucy will be on soon and I have to go warm up the picture tube and find my clicker.

Roll 'em Roll 'em Roll 'em

They're everywhere. In jars on the bookshelf, glass bowls on the dresser, the bottom of drawers and jean pockets.

Pennies. The Fredo of the coin world.

I've always been a big proponent of change (SWIDT?). Especially since I drive a car that has a special compartment for it. Armed with quarters, nickels and dimes, I fear no parking meter.

The problem is the thing I use change for the most I can't use pennies for. I know there's a movement to do away with the penny. But I'm not for it.

After all, what will we leave for the next person in that little plastic dish at the car wash and liquor store if we banish the penny? It's a cheap way of feeling like you're doing something good for someone else without actually doing anything good for them.

I know it costs more to make a penny than the penny's worth, but I don't believe that's the issue.I believe it's an organizational problem. So I decided to be an example for my family and the nation by doing something about it.

Today I took all my pennies and dumped them on the bed. Then, counting in two's fifty-cents at a time, I rolled them into bank coin sleeves.

I wound up with $3.50. That's 350 pennies. See how easy math is with pennies?

I even found a relatively rare 1956 D penny in the pile. Depending on which eBay listing you believe, it's worth either $1.60 or $498. I choose to believe the second one.

I'd be curious to know how many people think the same way as I do about pennies.

And I'll bet you know exactly how much I'll pay for your thoughts on it.

See the problem?

Apparently it's pretty easy to get a job at a bank these days. Especially since a working knowledge of math doesn't seem to be part of the job description.

I'd overpaid my overdraft account, and Wells Fargo wanted to refund my overpayment.

Instead of sending me an email, or electronically transferring it back into my account, they sent me a check. In the mail. With a 44 cent postage stamp.

Even if I was going to feel sorry for the banks - which I'm not - they're not making it easy to.