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Mole End
Moles may not fly high but they dig deep.
Here is the archive that explains the dime thing.

On the finding of dimes

Pearl and I were talking a walk by the lake on Sunday evening. At one point I stopped suddenly and Pearl kept walking. I called her back as a witness to the fact that I had just spotted a dime on the gravel path.

When Kiji and I and several of her friends we at the Def Lepard concert two weekends ago I found a five dollar bill as we were heading to our seats. I gave it to Muskie_Girl to reimburse her for the parking which she'd paid for. Then as we were leaving the concert I found a dime under one of the stadium seats. Kiji's friends were puzzled when I got much more excited about the dime than I did by the five dollar bill.

Several weeks back I was sharing a little quirk of mine with Kiji as we were leaving work together: I find dimes! I find dimes on the ground an average of four or five times a year. About five days after I told her about this we were walking across a grocery store parking lot together and, as if to prove my point, I found a dime.

The first dime I found was while I was an intern at an advertising agency. It was jammed between the hardwood flooring and the door sill of the companies entrance. I thought nothing of it at the time. But a couple weeks later I was walking from work down to a local printer where we had some materials waiting and I found a dime on the sidewalk. As I picked it up I thought to myself, "this is a neat coincidence."

It wasn't until a while later, when I found a dime by the curb at a the local mall that I became convinced that I'd developed some strange gift. After that I would find dimes on a somewhat regular basis. Usually in parking lots or near sidewalks but I've also found them in unusual places like in the middle of fields.

One day I was at an ice cream stand when I heard the woman behind me declare "I just found a dime." It was right next to my foot and as she picked it up I was surprised that I'd miss it. Seeing the alarm on my face she said, "Oh, it must br yours" and handed it to me. As I took it I knew I was making a grave mistake. I had jinxed away my magic. I did not find another dime for over a year.

Then one wonderful day I opened my car door and centered exactly where I was about to place my foot, on the dark coated pavement of new blacktop was a shiny new dime. It was back, and I was happy.

Since then my finds have been as regular as they'd been before. Except this past month - three dimes in one month! That is why a dime is more exciting than a five dollar bill.

I am not making this stuff up. I know its strange but I do find dimes - a lot.


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In my last entry, which admittedly was mostly transitional and probably not that interesting, I mentioned a friend named Johnny. He never played a major role in my life but I did write a little story about him a while back that I offer again here:

The Rules of the Game

When I was in 4th and 5th grade I had a friend named Johnny. He lived four houses down the street from me. One day we were goofing off in his back yard trying to play football (as well as football can be played with only two people!). Basically it involved running after the ball and trying to jump each other. There were no real rules but Johnny was determined to keep score. So every once in a while he would announce that he had scored based on some random rule he'd created. Then at other times he would point out how I'd missed scoring based on other random rulings. In other words, Johnny was winning the game.

After a while I noticed Johnny's brother standing at their back door watching us. His brother was much older, perhaps even a junior or senior in high school. He was big like a real football player but had long dirty blond hair and a long but scant beard. He was big, quiet, somewhat mean and always scared me. When he saw me looking his way he called me over to him - I was afraid to go but more afraid not to. He took me by the arm and guided me behind a cluster of small pine trees. I thought he was going to try to sell me drugs or beat me up or... I don't know (but it couldn't be good).

He stooped down and looked me straight in the eyes. I was shaking pretty bad but he didn't seem to notice. Then he said, "You've probably noticed that Johnny makes up rules as he goes along in a game, right? And those rules always favor him! He's always been like that. Well, listen up. This is how to win the game for yourself and it will drive him crazy. What I always do is memorize every rule he creates and use them against him. He can't find ways to back down from his own words. You'll be losing at first, but you'll start to win soon. Oh, but don't be surprised if he just stops playing as soon as you're tied."

I learned that day that Johnny's big brother wasn't a bad guy after all. He only seemed mean because he liked to pick on his little brother.

The game was a tie.


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In my previous entry I discussed my early memories at the Methodist church. Whenever I ponder how far back I can remember events in my life I always slow down at about age five. I only have two memories that I know happened before then:

I probably remember this because it happened twice and had a profound affect on my life both times. When I was two and a half years old my parents dropped me off at the Kramer's house to play and then left rather quickly. A few days later they came back for me and in their arms was a new baby sister, "Lynn". I may not have remembered this event if it hadn't repeated itself one and a half years later. When I was four years old, my parents again dropped me off at the Kramer's house to play and again left rather quickly. This time they returned a few days later with yet another new baby sister, "Leigh". It ended there, I am the oldest and only have the two sisters. But I wonder if after those experiences I was leary about visiting the Kramer house.


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