“You around, Uncle Jack?”
“Down here.”
“So, Happy Quarter Mill…wow!”
“Looks different, huh?”
“What happened? Your lab used to be filled to the walls with bins and baskets of spare parts and broken handles and….”
“Got rid of ‘em.”
“That must have been a truckload or two for the recycling center. Except for the radioactive….”
“Well, no. I painted ‘em red, white, and blue.”
“And sold them as Quarter Millennium collectibles? I would have thought you were getting on that bandwagon kind of late.”
“I know a trick worth two of that. Labelled ‘em ‘Bicentennial’, so people would think they’re extra collectible, being fifty years old.”
“Brilliant, as usual. How much did you make on your Bicentennial bookcase studs?”
“Not as much as I thought, considering the trouble the research was.”
“Research?”
“Wanted to make ‘em more authentic by tossing in some Bicentennial napkins and popcorn boxes and empty wrappers.”
“I’m not surprised you had some of those around this lab. I always wondered….”
“Used that time travel bicycle I came up with a while back and headed to 1976 for Bicentennial discards.”
“I thought you scrapped that bicycle because the controls were touchy.”
“So they are. Wound up shopping in 1876. Saw some interesting Centennial souvenirs, but bell bottoms and three-button cuffs made me kind of stand out. Luckily, they thought I was part of the entertainment. Except for Great-Great-Grandpa Zeke.”
“You met one of our ancestors?”
“Bicycle doesn’t travel distance, just time. So I was right here in the neighborhood. Zeke was one of these crank Victorian inventors.”
“I don’t know how you’d talk to somebody you have so little in common with.”
“Lemme write that down. Remaking my will next week. We got to talking and he thought I had a great idea. He offered to buy all my painted patriotic doodads for forty bucks.”
“That doesn’t even cover the cost of the paint, does it?”
“That’s what I thought ‘til I saw those two twenty dollar gold pieces in his hand. It was a lot of trips, hauling all that scrap on the bike, but I did it.”
“And now you can put those two gold pieces up at auction. Are they in good shape?”
“Sort of. Not exactly right for auction.”
“How do you mean?”
“This is OUR ancestor, kid. He took two quarters, painted ‘em gold, gave me those.”
“Oof. Can you get the paint off? I mean, at least two silver quarters from 1876….”
“I could see right away getting rid of the paint would get rid of most of the quarters at the same time. So I did the next best thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Painted ‘em red, white, and blue. Sold one of ‘em yesterday. Got SOMETHING out of it, anyhow.”
“Do you think you can still sell the other one once the Quarter Millennium is over?”
“Maybe. I can set the bicycle for 2076 and see what someone’ll pay during the Tricentennial.”
“Happy Fourth of July, Uncle Jack.”
Blogsy Babbles 