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Q.A.: "Trauma"... "open wounds in the hobby"... "boomers (Me!) are never going to accept clad coins"... Say, I wonder how this guy was able to get ahold of my life story???
🐓 :
I believe I would be remiss in my duty as a responsible, dues-paying member of this Forum if I failed to note the absence of comments from at least two well-known fellow members. Malheureusement, in practical, everyday terms what this means is they, and any others of like mind have irrevocably lost their misperceived privilege of criticizing the OP for his unique artistic creations for the duration, meaning no belated apologies or appeals, with no expiration.
This applies whether the absence of their remarks was inadvertent or intentional. Not acceptable.
This Topic has fleshed out, in a way no other can, the irreproachable virtue and undeniably sterling character of a man's innermost thoughts, feelings and emotions.
I do not believe I have ever experienced the rare privilege of observing anyone delve deeply into a more controversial but little-discussed subject matter than the OP related here seamlessly with intensity and sensitivity.
[Posted on the "It's Token Tueday" thread is a token I had taken the liberty of posting last nite which conceivably could have been used by the author of the book cited in that column. In the last line of the last page of the Forward to that book, he made an interesting observation: "I have learned the junk equation. Junk is not, like alcohol or [marijuana] a means to increased enjoyment of life. Junk is not a kick. It is a way of life." (Emphasis mine.)]
Any further comments I may wish to make must be respectfully withheld owing to Chat Board Guideline policy. I thank the OP (whose works I find no fault with) for sharing his account with unusual conviction and compassion.
(Posted at the discretion of Moderation.)
Blast from the Past!
🐓: Oldhoop derided you for practicing "wordsmithing," remember?
Q.A.: I sure do... I wonder what he'd call all this? You know what they say, "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Man, I love this place! 🤣
Hello there, Noob115 (and all of your other 114 presumably close associates)!
You are indeed a man of your word (as am I). I may have lost my p/t gig as Guest Moderator, but none of my storytelling ability in my never-ending quest to broaden the coin collector community's collective body of knowledge.
I am going to pump up the volume on that delectable morsel, your favorite true-blue 1920 cent, as follows. First and foremost, it survived the still-unsolved Wall Street Bomb Explosion which occurred a minute past noon on September 16, 1920 (since memorialized in a Wikipedia account as having resulted in the deaths of 30 -- and one horse.) You will hear stories about anarchists and the physical damage inflicted on J.P Morgan's bank which is still visible to this day, but rarely the footnote to the affair which involved the unpublicized movement of $900 million in gold bars being moved that day in the sub-Treasury building directly across the street. Re your cent... it was purportedly found in the pocket of the driver of the horse-drawn carriage. That's your back story which you may embellish as you see fit. 🤣 Bear in mind, you are not obligated to prove your assertion to anyone.
I am going to withhold comment on the rest of your cents as I do not regard any minted after 1959 as "real" due to their reduced copper content, except to point out that your photo of the '64-D, at post-position 3, features a rather interesting feature abbuting Lincoln's forehead that other members may wish to comment (or concoct another story) on. All in all, a fine presentation!
...of no concern to me, nothing u say or do is of any importance to me, i just hope some new collectors dont accidentally stumble upon one of ur posts before they find real collectors they should learn from...perhaps u n QA n ricky could start a new chat forum?....
...of no concern to me, nothing u say or do is of any importance to me, i just hope some new collectors dont accidentally stumble upon one of ur posts before they find real collectors they should learn from...perhaps u n QA n ricky could start a new chat forum?....
....and what does "First Day of Mintage" mean? Is the encapsulated coin from the pieces struck on the first day coins were produced? How was that determined? (If it's like the Kennedy halves that were "certified" it's a false certification.)
The Sad Story of My Numismatic Friend (and my first significant coin).
My friend “Jim” was my best coin collecting friend from long ago, back to Middle School in the early 1970s.
The earliest memories are of the two of us looking at coins in the back of the classroom during Social Studies and the teacher telling us “boys, put the coins away”. Oh well, we were learning a lot more with the coins than we were in the class. We would often go to coin shops around the Denver area. Initially, we would require one of our parents to take us there. Later, when we were able to drive, we would make our own rounds. We were also “self-employed” during the summers in the mid-1970s. Our “job” was to drive around getting rolls of half dollars to search for silver. We had our kits and the process was practiced. I used a typical metal cash box with spare copper-nickel coins that were used to fill the spaces in rolls where I would remove a 90% or 40% silver coin. The searched rolls were exchanged at a bank for cash, and then on to the next bank we went. Back then, 40% coins were worth a profit of 15 to 20 cents each, and the profit on 90% coins was about $1 to $1.25 each. That wasn’t much, but it was enough to pay for gas and lunch, plus a little extra. I vividly remember our score at a bank in Evergreen Colorado. We bought a bundle of $100 (ten rolls) of half dollars. Out in the car when we started looking at the rolls we were excitedly hollering like someone who had just hit a jackpot on a slot machine. People walking by on the street were wondering what the hell was going on. Out of that $100, $6 of it was 40% silver. $90 of it was 90% silver. Only $4 of it was non-silver (copper-nickel clad).
Early-on, I noticed some very troubling signs with Jim. He was always the first one (and usually the only one) to fall down drunk at the parties. He would try any drug that anyone presented.
When Jim was about 22 his Dad passed away. His Mom and Dad were driving from California back to Colorado. They stopped for lunch in Salinas California. After eating, they walked out to the parking lot. Jim’s Dad suffered a spontaneous massive heart attack and dropped dead right on the spot. And that was that.
Jim was smart and he attended the Colorado School of Mines and studied Chemistry, while I attended the University of Colorado and studied Mechanical Engineering. After Jim’s Dad died, his Mom moved to a retirement community in Southern California. During winter break from college, we would drive out to California and stay a couple weeks with his Mom. We would plan out our days and routes, mapping every coin store, stamp store, and bank that we wanted to visit that day. We went everywhere from San Diego to Los Angeles. In Beverly Hills in 1978 I remember getting an unusually-long $20 paper-wrapped roll of half dollars (normally, they are shorter $10 rolls). In that $20 roll was coins dated 1978 and all the way back to 1917.
Jim became interested in full-step Jefferson nickels. We once went in together on a mint-sealed $200 face value bag of 1960 [P] nickels. I think at the time it cost us about $220. We agreed to split the value of whatever we would find. But whomever found an item would have first choice to keep it and pay the other partner half the value, or sell it to the other partner at half the value (if the other party wanted it). There was not much significant in the bag except for one coin that I found – double-clipped with a perfectly-formed “railroad rim” (partial collar) all the way around the circumference. We valued the coin at about $20 at the time. Since Jim was more of a nickel and error collector than I was, I sold it to him for $10 as per our agreement. Years later, I wished I had kept it since it was the first coin of real numismatic interest that I ever had.
Towards the end of my college stint, one Saturday morning I was driving north back into Boulder and I saw Jim walking along the side of the road in the opposite direction. He looked all banged up. So I did a U-turn and went to pick him up. While I didn’t exactly get the straight story from Jim, I did eventually gather the pieces together. Apparently, the night before, Jim had driven from his apartment in Golden to a bar in Boulder. At the bar, he drank too much and then attempted to drive. He tried to drive up the freeway off-ramp (in the wrong direction) but couldn’t even do that right and crashed his car into a ravine. Luckily, he did not injure anyone except himself. The police put him in jail for the night. On Saturday morning he couldn’t get a ride so he started walking back towards Golden, which was about 20 miles away. That is when I came upon him. I gave him a ride back to his apartment. That was the end of the 1972 Ford Mustang that he had inherited from his Dad. Some years later I think he permanently lost his license to drive and never owned another car or drove again after that.
Jim was never a “mean” drunk. He was always very cordial, happy, funny, friendly, and somehow direct-to-the-point when drunk. The only time I ever witnessed him get aggravated towards anyone was when they suggested that he not drink and smoke. His attitude towards that was basically a stern “that is none of your business”.
After college I did not have as much contact with him, but I would correspond or visit with him from time to time. Over the years Jim worked at various laboratories. Some for a few years, but usually he would become unemployed at some point. I suspect that showing up at work while intoxicated was a reason. At one point when he had a steady job he bought a house. But a couple years later he apparently lost his job and just quit paying his mortgage. He ignored all notices. Then one morning he was woken up in bed at gunpoint. It was a deputy sheriff evicting him. They had an eviction order, so they forced him out. They took all of his possessions out of the house and threw them in the snow in the front yard. This included his safe and numerous other coins and valuables that were not in the safe. The locks to the house were changed on the spot. Later that day Jim called me and asked that I come take possession of his coins and other items. I immediately made the hour drive to the location where he told me to meet him. When I got there, it was a bar. Jim had walked a mile to the bar and left all his possessions unattended in his front yard. When I arrived Jim was drinking in the bar. We drove to his house. Some of this things may have “walked off” while he was at the bar. But, miraculously, the majority of what he had was still there. I loaded up everything of value that I could find in his yard. I remember picking up PCGS slabs that were scattered about the yard in the snow. After I picked up everything, I left. With no place to go, Jim apparently broke into his former house that very night and continued to reside there for some time. But eventually he ended up living homeless “on the street” and occasionally in a cheap motel. When he needed money, he would call me up and ask if I would buy this or that from his collection (which I was holding on his behalf). We would agree on an amount and I would make a deposit in my local branch of his bank. About this time I learned that he had some items being held at the pawn shop. After learning what the exorbitant fees and interest was on the “loans” I declared that it was nuts. In a year or less the amount owed on the items would be well above what they were worth. So I made to Jim the proposal to immediately go to the pawn shop where I would pay to get all his things out of there, and I would take some items equal in value to the payment I would make. That way, Jim would at least get most of his items back and not owe anything more. Jim agreed.
Then he seemed to get things together somewhat and got a good-paying job as a chemist at a government facility in New Mexico. I believe that this job required a security clearance. He called me up and told me about the nice hot-tub he was sitting in at the fancy hotel where his employer had temporarily housed him. But a week or so later he called again and stated that he needed money for a bus ride back to the Denver area. I never found out what had happened but I suspect that either he showed up for work intoxicated, or his government employer did a background check and found some DUIs in his record that he did not disclose on his original employment application. So I bought some more of his coins and deposited money in a local branch of his bank so that he could get a bus ticket. He later told me that he had to live out in the desert for several days with only a backpack containing meager supplies and part of his coin collection.
Once again back in Denver, he lived on the street and occasionally in shady motels. Eventually he was in a homeless shelter and that shelter hooked him up with a Vietnam veteran with similar problems. The shelter helped the two of them get into a two-bedroom apartment. They also helped Jim file the proper paperwork to start getting the nearly $2,000 per month in Social Security disability. With that, and having a roommate to share expenses, Jim could get by reasonably well and not have to live on the street. The county social services helped arrange a part-time job for him as a security guard at the headquarters of a major satellite communications company. He had to ride the bus and take light rail to his job, almost an hour each way, to earn basically minimum wage. One time, at the train station, a person asked Jim for a cigarette. Jim made a terse reply and declined to give up one of his. He was then stabbed in the back by the man. Jim had to get about 20 stitches. Some months later I learned of this and saw the scar.
For a while he was getting by fairly well again, and with a little extra money he was even buying a few coins here and there on the internet. He asked that I return all his coins that I was holding for him, and so I did. He gave me spare keys to his apartment and the combination to his safe. He told me to take possession of his items if anything ever happened to him. His only living relatives are two sisters (both much older than Jim) and he hated both and wanted no contact with either. He never married or had kids. Jim’s mom had died many years prior. His parents and sisters all seemed to be very old in relation to Jim. My wife’s theory is that Jim was actually the “illegitimate” son of one of his sisters, and the family covered it up. Both his sisters were at least 16 years older than him. But I have no confirming information on that matter.
A few years ago Jim’s internal organs had started failing, especially the liver and kidneys. His belly would swell up with fluid and periodically he had to go in for a procedure where they inserted a long needle into his abdomen to drain out multiple gallons of fluid at a time. He was prescribed various medications and diuretics to flush out fluid. Then he was diagnosed with throat cancer. Smoking and drinking undoubtedly caused it. The doctors determined that surgery was not an option. So they gave him some massive focused radiation doses. This was ironic since Jim worked frequently with radioactive compounds during his prior employment. I remember seeing him with significant radiation burns on the skin of his neck. However, his cancer did go into remission and never returned.
Then Jim had a falling-out with his roommate Hank. Hank was terrible with money, far worse than even Jim. Whatever money Hank had, he would just blow it all in a day or two. Hank inherited $16,000 and bought a used car. The car broke down a day or two later and Hank went back to the dealer and threw the car keys at the manager and left. Hank never even tried to get any money back and he abandoned the car where it lay. The $16,000 was completely gone in a week and Hank was back to bumming money and whatever he could get. Then Hank apparently had a psychotic episode and for whatever reason broke down Jim’s locked bedroom door and they had an altercation. Hank was taken away from the apartment and never returned. Jim then had to pay all the expenses for the apartment himself and he had to start selling coins again. The county stepped in once more and got him regular deliveries of free food, a free phone, and free internet access. But I still bought most of his better items over the past couple years and he used the money for rent, alcohol, and whatever else.
In recent years I never saw Jim drink. Not once. But he was always drunk. His speech was always slurred and his short-term memory was shot. He could remember things from years ago. But if you told him anything new, or tried to teach him anything new, it would never sink in, no matter how hard one tried.
In January of this year I learned that Jim had not been going to his doctor appointments because he could not get to the offices. My wife and I volunteered to take him to his next one. So we drove the hour to his apartment to pick him up. He told us that he had previously fallen in his apartment and it took him an hour to crawl to his bed. I am a year older than Jim and I can still run up and down the stairs. Jim could barely step on or off a 2-inch curb, even with a walker and assistance. The skin on his face was gray and lumpy. He looked like walking death. I knew he was in bad shape, and that is why I wanted to go with him so I could be his advocate and talk to the doctor. Upon arrival at the appointment, we helped Jim to the doctor’s office. While riding up the elevator, I discovered a bottle of liquor in the pouch of his walker. His speech was slurred, as typical. In fact, I don’t remember ever seeing him not drunk in the last 20 years or more. At the appointment, they first wanted a blood sample. The nurse stabbed him three or four times in each arm and couldn’t get a flow and then she switched to his hand and finally got a sample. Then we waited and later the doctor finally came in. She said flat-out to Jim that he had to stop drinking. Jim lied entirely and stated in slurred speech that he only had one or two beers a week on Thursday night dinner with friends. The part about two beers on Thursday night was perhaps somewhat accurate. But he did not mention the other six days a week spent drinking all the time. The doctor looked at Jim directly and said emphatically that she knew he was lying. This was a Monday morning, and she was holding Jim’s blood work report which showed his blood alcohol level at the time. It was well above “DUI” levels. She was clearly frustrated with him. At one point I asked the doctor if we could step aside and talk. I told the doctor that Jim had fallen and it took him an hour to crawl to his bed (which was just a mattress on the floor). I said that he needs to go into hospice right now. She told me that his vital signs did not qualify for hospice and she would not recommend hospice care for him at that time. Thinking back on it, I believe that maybe what she meant was, hospice isn’t for people who are chronically drunk and/or engaging in substance abuse.
A couple weeks after the doctor’s appointment, I got the call. Jim only had three friends in this world. He had apparently succumbed on the floor of his apartment several days earlier. The police were called by someone, probably a neighbor because of the smell. The police went into the apartment and discovered the body. They looked around and found contact information for one of our mutual friends and called him. The mutual friend emailed me and we decided on a time for the three of us to go over to Jim’s apartment.
Jim’s apartment complex is, pretty much, a dump. There was evidence that a homeless person had been camped just outside Jim’s front door in the recesses under the outdoor stairwell. Our mutual friend told me that Jim would sometimes pay that homeless person $100 to go buy a couple bottles of liquor for Jim.
Inside Jim’s apartment it was the most deplorable living conditions that I have ever seen in person. Bio-hazards everywhere. We had to be very careful where to step and what to touch (and what not to touch). The police and coroner had already removed the body a few days earlier, and two antique (but basically worthless) guns that Jim had on the wall were apparently taken by the police. What little Jim had left in the form of valuables, the three of us took possession of. There was one box of coins that contained everything that I had given Jim over the years. I took possession of that. Most of it was from a few trips that Jim had made to my mint where we struck some things together for fun. I never charged Jim anything for any of that. The best item in the group was one of my “1964-D” Peace over-strikes.
But there was one other coin in that box and I think Jim put it there so that I would get it. The 1960 [P] mint error nickel from the mint bag we shared many years ago. I will always keep this coin as a remembrance.
Not once did Jim ever ask of charity from me. He never asked to borrow money, or asked for housing, transportation, or food. We occasionally offered. He only asked me to safeguard some of his possessions a couple of times. When he needed money, we would have a numismatic transaction at fair market values.
Looking back, I wonder if anything could have been done. But unless a person acknowledges that something needs to change, nothing will succeed. Even the slightest inkling of a desire, or acknowledgement, is worth an “intervention” attempt. But I never saw in Jim even a miniscule of regret or a desire in any way to change, even when he repeatedly hit the rock bottom of the pit.
But even though we led vastly different lifestyles, I can still say rest in peace my friend. At least, now you are free of it and “sober”.
Usually with modern coins the varieties are just label varieties and have nothing to do with the coin itself. I’m assuming the FM means first mintage. Seems that these FM coins are graded in the OGP instead of just slabbing the coin. Here is an example.
Great, this is number 4! And I get you again with all the Mumbo Jumbo. Tapping on the "Shop Now" in the nice convenient blue box situated right under the multi-color bannershows shows "ZERO" listings about varieties on eBay. But I guess you didn't check that! If there is not enough time, manpower or bandwidth available to accommodate coin connoisseurs, they shouldn't even have created a "GRAY" box that says Varieties.
Once again, your word salad feed back was useless! But thanks for playing.
(...as you may know, you've broken my broken leg three times in a row... that's a lot of lay-up time...these census reports (and valuation reports all carry disclaimers... you know, we are not responsible for this or that... values fluctuate with the market, etc.,...my preliminary advice is use them as a persiscope...they let you know "there" are mutations out there... malheureusement, there is not enough time, manpower or bandwidth available to accommodate coin connoisseurs like yourself to describe each and every variety for every little niche of U.S. coinage to everyone's satisfaction. The primary purpose of this device is to inform the collector that varieties either exist or do not exist and if you choose to exercise an available option, it's right there: TAP "Shop Now!" in the nice convenient blue box situated right under the multi-color banner: "Find it on eBay."
Sorry you had to wait three hours for a reply to your Topic, but think of it this way, you lucked out....out of the thousands of lurkers out there, you got me first!
Q.A.: How come you never mentioned this?
🐓 : Denver? That was a month ago. What about it?
Q.A.: Read the last line...
🐓: I didn't think it was worth mentioning.
Q.A.: WELL IT WAS! YOU KNOW HOW CRAZY I AM ABOUT HIGH WIRES! SAME WAY WHAT'S-HIS-NAME WORSHIPS PROOF DIE CRACKS. I HAVE A THEORY... THAT'S THAT MILE-HIGH PLACE, RIGHT? I'D BE WILLING TO BET IT'S GOT SOMETHING TO DO WITH AIR PRESSURE AND THE RAREFIED ATMOSPHERE. LESS DENSE AIR IN THE WAY... PERFECT STRIKE! .I LOVE ME A HIGH WIRE NOW AND AGAIN! WHADDYA THINK?
🐓 : I THINK z WAS RIGHT. YOU'RE NUTTIER THAN A PECAN PIE!
Q.A.: IN THAT CASE, I'LL HAVE TO RUN IT BY THE FINAL ARBITER ON EVERYTHING: @VKurtB .
🐓 : I CAN SEE IT NOW... SPECIAL EXTRA-HIGH RELIEFS AND A COUPLE OF NEW MINT MARKS TO GO WITH 'EM: "E" FOR MT. EVEREST, "M" FOR THE MOON, AND "T" FOR LAKE TITICACA. PURE GENIUS I TELLYA!!!
(Posted at the discretion of Moderation.)
🐓: By PM, I am going to assume we aren't talking Private Messaging here.
Q.A.: No, indeedy. Both members of good standing know very well every obsolete coin is fair game: mercs, perks and Turks. The whole kit 'n' kaboodle. That goes for the BIG bills, too. Who's going to turn down a McKinley, Cleveland, Madison or Chase? NOBODY. Even an ignoramus like me is going to say, "Just a moment, ma'am..." And excuse myself, rush out, and rustle up the change to give the little old lady, which invariably always turns out to be a happy, satisfied, repeat customer.
Now, on to the matter at hand, forget Morgans, that's novice nite. Every one of those bullion coins of which you speak has a DENOMINATION on it. Now whether it would be inadvisable to spend one at face value is an entirely different matter.
(You both know I am am on Lifetime Probation here and serve at the pleasure and discretion of management. Cut me a little slack here.)
Q.A.: I would like to have the unique 1908 St.-Gaudens half eagle pattern which was the subject of @RWB 's Topic, "Destruction of 1908 Indian and St. Gaudens half eagle patterns," Mar. 10.
I believe it to be in the constructive possession of my most faithful follower who for the past 37 years refuses to confirm or deny its very existence.. (As a practical matter he has adamantly refused to authorize any photographs taken of it.)
In the alternative, I would be interested in acquiring either of the two French 20-francs gold roosters, dated 1908 and 1912 and graded [and cross-graded] an impressive and unprecedented MS-68 by the top two TPGSs
My faithful follower, while readily acknowledging the coins exist, has stated on a number of occasions that they are not for sale now nor will they be in the forseeable future and has declined to have a professional photographer take pictures of them under any circumstances. He has also declined to disclose their certification numbers.
🐓 : Dream coins? Pfttt!
🐓: What's the finest fineness you ever heard of?
Q.A.: Four nines: .9999.
🐓 : So what happened to the other .0001?
Q.A.: According to Wm S. Burroughs, God kept it for himself. 🤣
I see a few problems with your assertions -- and I am not taking sides. It seems to me Idhair, relying on personal knowledge and experience, would not feel comfortable advocating for something that cannot produce consistent, positive results, so he would rather "err" on the side of safety. You managed to get one by NGC, but considering their caseload and the average interval spent on a never-ending cascade of coins, why wouldn't some slip by? One member who very likely is not convinced or impressed is RWB. You cannot prove the '34 quarter was treated; he cannot prove it wasn't. VKurtB cautions Newbies to stay away from YouTube. I say some people simply need guidance. Is alcohol, tobacco and drugs dangerous? Not if you don't use them. I don't think any member has an axe to grind in dissuading others to engage in potentially consequential activity.
🐓 : "....wasted..." There goes your theory on sentimental value. Pfttt! Any more brilliant deductions?
Q.A.: Remember the time I bought that USPS money order for two ($0.02) cents, and the nice lady behind the counter asked me if I knew what I was doing? I said yes, and it was well worth the price. I can see there is no intimidating you and holding you will serve no useful purpose. You don't owe me or anyone else an explanation...
Go ahead and release him, Ricky. You're a good sport power guy!
I respectfully disagree. I do not need to explain why in some peoples view that I wasted $20 to slab a 30 cent coin. I can do what I want with my money. I can even throw it in my fire pit if I want. Everything does not need a full dissection, analysis, and comprehensive report.
🐓: May I cross-examine the witness?
Q.A.: Sure, go right ahead!
MV: Did I say something wrong???
🐓: Not at all... I am curious to know if you have ever gotten a gift that had you sitting there, after unwrapping it, totally perplexed? Or received.something that made you wonder, "Why this?" (Worse case scenario: getting something you can't stand... Why would anyone give me this???)
I have a theory that this was how and why "re-gifting" began. Hence, all the stories about unwanted fruitcakes, positively revolting neckties and totally useless tchotchkes. Doormen, superintendent, porters -- even the regular postal worker get red envelopes from me. My attitude is, I want them to know I really appreciated their service and can count on their cooperation next time. Now, you might rightly say, "but I'm not talking about service people. I am talking about my family and friends." Fair enough. My response: some people are "giftable," others are not. I don't particularly care for gifts; sometimes they cause problems. I gave my mother gifts of things I knew she absolutely loved: flowers, Lily of the Valley-scented, triple-milled three-bar boxes of soap from France and perfumes. Decades later, she passed away and tucked away with everything else was a love letter I had written to a girl in elementary school (who later realized her dream in Hollywood) -- and every box of soap and perfume I had bought her for her birthday, Mother's Day and other special occasions. I asked my sister who was going through her things with me, "Why?" and she had apparently confided her they were too lovely to open and use. No wonder every kid I grew up with said they wished they had a mother like mine. I can recall saying to any number of people, "Here, get yourself something you really want." They understand.
Cash may seem impersonal but it helps to explain to your recipient why you made that choice. The most difficult gifts are those intended for "the person who has nothing," and "the person who has everything"
I made a promise to a person on this Forum that if I won one of the big lotteries, I would get him the High-Wire Act (SG DE MCMVIII) the coin he always had his eye on. I intend to keep that promise, with or w/o his knowledge.
(Posted at the discretion of Moderation.)
zadok reacted to Henri Charriere in Why Someday Moderns Will be Hot.
zadok got a reaction from Henri Charriere in Sending cash through the U.S. mail
zadok got a reaction from bstrauss3 in Sending cash through the U.S. mail
zadok got a reaction from Fenntucky Mike in Never clean your coins. Wrong. Never Improperly clean your coins. Lesson 1: Using Acetone to clean a coin.
