as I remember

  I had taken a bit of a nap yesterday on the couch. Well, to be truthful. I do that most days. But anyway afterwards my wife goes over there to straighten the pillows, I don't quite understand the significance of pillows to women but do know they have to be arranged in a certain fashion. Must be something they were taught when they had those "girl" only sessions in the school gym, the one Mom had to take my sister to. So in doing that she finds some change. She exclaims , I found some money! It reminded me of when I was a kid. Finding change in my fathers' recliner or the cushion of the couch was my go fund me account. That was the first place to check when you needed some funds. Now remember, at that time I could still go to the corner store and get penny candy. And yes, it did cost a penny! A quarter got you quite the haul. 

 Now you had to wait until Dad wasn't around, safely away. When he went to the restroom was the optimal time, you had time. We didn't call the bathroom the library without reason. It was time enough to dig deep into that recliner or the cushions on the couch. Mom could be a problem, depending upon her mood. She may make you return that change. At other times she may say something like, I see you want to help clean, that's great, you can start with your room. So, it was best to be sure the coast was clear. Sure you could just ask but the answer was usually, money don't grow on trees you know? Yeah, I knew that. I also knew that Dads wallet was like fort knox! The vault doesn't get opened very often. There was some serious security involved there, don't even think about it. Same thing with my Mothers purse! To do this day if my own wife says, it's in my purse, I'm about as anxious to put my hand in there as I am to put it in a bear trap! No thanks, I'll bring it to you.

 Bottles found on the roadside were another revenue source. Two cents for the little ones and a nickel for the big ones. I would just walk the roads and search them out, money didn't grow on trees that was certain, but could be found in the ditch. I recall a few times when we returned the same bottles more than once. Here's how that went. You would take your bottles to Warrens garage for the refund. Now he put those bottles in those wooden crates that sat beside the coke machine. So, he would say come inside and I'll get your money. While you went inside to collect that your accomplice would lift a few bottles and go down the street. If you waited a while you just return those bottles claiming you found them on the road. Just took patience. Looking back I expect he knew all about it but let it slide. He was a nice man. Another option was to check the coin returns in the phone booths. Found change in there more than once I can tell you that. 

 If all of that failed to produce some funds charity wasn't out of the question. My Aunt Betty lived half way between my house and the corner store. You could always stop and visit, you know, for no reason, just because you love and admire her so much. She loved to play her electric organ and if you asked her she would. She would stop doing her housework to oblige us. My sister and I soon discovered you could get 50 cents or a dollar just for listening, if you were appreciative. After a few songs we would say how Mom was waiting for us to bring the stuff back from the store. We would love to stay and listen more but we just couldn't. She gave us each a little something, to cheer us up. Worked every time. Our Aunt Roz, although a mile or more away up the highway was always good for a dollar. We would see her as we just happened to be passing by. The very last resort was Grandmother Bennett. With her you had to come right out and ask. We didn't like doing that. It wasn't that she was mean, or would say anything, but it just felt like it was more of a burden on her. I guess we thought she was poor. Just not so poor she couldn't fund us when the need arose. Like when we wanted to go to the 5&10 cent store uptown. 

 It's funny how memories get triggered at times. Something as common as taking a nap on the couch. My wife finding a penny, I think that is what she said, bringing all that back. Good memories, warm memories, of a time long ago. I was reminded of all that and the people involved. Most of those folks are passed now and I'm left with their memories. I experience that again whenever that happens. It's like a surprise view on a walk, you turn the corner, or top out on a rise, and there it is before you. A welcoming. 

 Growing up in the country where I did you could say I didn't have street smarts, I knew little of the big world outside mine. But I did learn about people, how to interact with them on a personal level. It wasn't a matter of being tough, it was a matter of being genuine. Well, convincing them you were genuine anyway. In the country we called it, savvy. That's what they always said in the movies. We did operate within set boundaries, you didn't exceed those boundaries without paying a price. That was the unspoken lesson. Character was the measure of the man. I grew up with a lot of characters. And most, if not all, were of the finest kind. That's what we used to say about those we admired, respected and loved, they are of the finest kind. And finding change in Dads' recliner was one of life's little joys back then. You know, looking back, I'm not convinced that it was always accidental though. Dad wasn't known for open shows of affection, he was manly, know what I mean? But I'm thinking he just may have "lost" a quarter every now and again. Sometimes, memories are just whatever you make them.