Wednesday, June 24, 2020
A Tale of Two Coins
I'm going to be honest with you, and when am I not?
Two years ago, I contacted the White House Gift Shop and laid out 50 of my hard earned dollars for the commemorative Korean Peace Talks Summit Coin.
When it arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. Each coin came individually wrapped in thoughtful plastic cover, for keepsake purposes. Moreover, each coin was numbered and had included its own CERTIFICATE OF AUTHENTICITY OF ORIGIN -- which is kind of a word salad, but still.
A CERTIFICATE!!!
Some, namely my wife and daughters, scoffed at this impulsive and reckless purchase. I, on the other hand, was convinced I had gotten in on the ground floor of an investment that would pay huge dividends.
These coins would be the 2017 equivalent of purchasing 100 shares of Apple Computer while Steve Jobs was still assembling motherboards in the dirty garage of his parent's Cupertino house.
I was convinced that once President Trump had laid on the charm with Kim Jong Un, we would be ushering in a new round of American/Asian détente.
I thought the acrimony would be over, followed by rich cultural exchanges between our nations.
Furthermore, when I heard that Jared Kushner has pushed the idea of building luxury condos on the beautiful beaches of the northern Korean peninsula, I began entertaining the thought of a Pan Pacific vacation home. Right on the shores of luscious Hong Shwe.
I mean surely, when two leaders openly declare their love for each other and even exchange a flurry of flowery letters to that effect, there can only be brighter rosier days ahead.
Who knew?
Now Little Rocket Man wants nothing to do Captain Ouchie Foot. He's cut off the talks. Ratcheted up the rhetoric. And is now building more nukes than he had before these two beautiful, machine-stamped coins were minted in rare Pennsylvania-grade scrap iron.
Even Little Rocket Man's sister is getting in on the rancor. Threatening to blow some South Korean shit up, just because she can.
All of which means, the coins, Serial Numbers #29458 & #29459, intended to be a family heirloom for my daughters and one day, their offspring, are now worthless. And pushing back my early retirement day, til who knows when.
Looks like I'm going to writing banner ads and email blasts for a long, long time.
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