Large Cent Pry or Twist Tool

Sometimes you need an edge.

Large cent pry or twist tool: cheap and easy to use.

   A firm edge can be used to open the back of an old clock or to pry open a cupboard door. Maybe, you need to wind up a clock or operate a turn. Fat, clumsy fingers just can't get it done.
   No worries, as I think this cent will do it. It is thick and easy to pinch -- just right for fat fingers, but maybe not clumsy ones. Once you get a firm pinch going, just pry or twist. Easy.
   It is not a screw driver. The coin metal is too soft for that. A stubborn screw would damage the soft copper point (well, unless you have a gentle touch).

   I enjoy musing about cent tools like this. Just think: a hundred years ago, someone saw the need for this tool. And so, they found a cent lying around and fashioned it for the task. They knew exactly what they wanted: a broad point for some specific task.
   It looks like it was used for several years as the leading edge is smoothly worn. I get the impression that it was held close with a big thumb on the Liberty's face.
   I imagine that this tool sat on a surface right next to the object that needed it: on the mantle by the clock or in the kitchen by the cupboard.

   It's too bad that coins such as this are often ignored. Yet, they have interesting stories of use. I like to think of this cent tool as a token of American Ingenuity. After all, you couldn't just go down to the corner hardware store in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Besides, why pay two bits for a tool you can make for a penny.
   You make do.

Loving the Unloved: Ode to the Penny Pocket Piece

No one loves me now.

But once, long ago, I enjoyed a charmed relationship.
I was cherished.
My keeper had faith. I was magic: A good luck piece.
And so, I was never forgotten. Always in the left pocket.
During arguments, I was vigorously rubbed; in lines, I was flipped over and over again; by the hearth, I was studied.
I was never dropped.

Back in the goode olde dayes

Well, a few hands tossed me back when I had some shine; I went from cash box to cash box.
Then one day, I was kept.
There I stayed: In the pocket.
After years of service, I was moved to a purse.
I became a still point in a world moving all around me.
At some point, I cannot remember when, I was re-examined. It was not by the hearth. No, it was a fumbling hand with a big glass.
I was encased in cellophane and labeled "ungradeable."
That's not even a word.
Poor-0.5 -- What a stupid designation.
They whisper that I have no "eye-appeal."
But I do. I am smoothed by countless touches. A refuge for tense, bored, or inquiring fingertips.
I am beautiful. I am a ghost.
But there's more. What I offer is more immediate. Bring on the fingertips.
I have a history too. Unknowable perhaps, but full of action.
And, best of all, I am magical.
Yes, I am a lucky penny. (I know, I know, it is "cent," but I'm not a braggart).
I think everyone should have a pocket piece: A lucky talisman.

Thanks to the necromancer. He loves me (again).