This morning I had to grab a bunch of quarters to take with me today for the parking meters downtown. I am not used to putting money into parking meters anymore. And coins have become a hot commodity for me, since all I ever do is use my debit card to pay for stuff. Seems like I never have loose change on me. When I have to park somewhere, I usually have been going to places where there's an attendant you can get change from a $20 from. But yesterday I had to use a parking meter, and I was shocked with my lack of coins. Not even on the floor of my car. I scrounged up enough to get me through a little over an hour and then just hoped the parking ticket I'd most certainly get would not be too expensive.

Things have sure changed a lot for me over the past 5 years. Back in 1998, I never thought I would be using debit to pay for almost everything, and rarely carrying cash of any kind. I also never realized that I would lose my skills at coin-basket-tossing so quickly.

All this thought about coins reminded me of the little baskets at the toll plazas in NJ. I had gotten so fucking great at driving through, slowing down just enough to whip the 35 cents into the basket, and then only tapping the gas at precisely the right moment the bar started to lift. I was a master at paying tolls in NJ. And as tempted as I was, I never used one of Tricia's Chuck E. Cheese tokens to get through, either. I was by the book, and I was good at it. No time for screwing off, people... pay the toll and get the fuck to where you're going, you know what I'm sayin'?

But here's the funny part. Last December when I went home for a visit, I tried doing my patented "coin whip" as I was heading up the Parkway to visit Kristen in Bayonne, and I found that my shoulder/elbow muscle grouping was atrophied from years without practice. I had to come to a complete stop and reach way out to drop the coins in the basket. Not fling, or throw, or whip, or anything... DROP them in. It was pitiful. I was ashamed. I just know I made the drivers behind me so pissed off over those extra few seconds I spent up at the basket. I should have been shot. Let's be honest.

Well, here's the cool thing in all this: there are no tolls on the roads out here in Arizona. The only places you need to stop at any "toll" booths are at entrances to state parks and the Grand C. So, ultimately, you are spending more time driving and less time stopping/ slowing down to hurl things out the window.

I am finding it amusing that I just wrote about hurling things out the window, and I couldn't think of a sarcastic thing to offer as a humorous alternative for things-to-be-hurled-out-a-window. The only thing that comes to mind is, as always, "Grandpa."

I can always count on a good Grandpa joke to get me through a humorous dry spell. You gotta love the Grandpas.