I was walking to pay a bill. It wasn’t far, so I walked to save gas. With the prices so high, I do all I can to save that precious commodity. I might also mention that I was prepared to pay cash for what I owed. I like cash. All that electron created money makes me itch. My bill was $121.00 and I had the exact amount: a one, a twenty, and a one hundred dollar bill stuffed into my pocket with my keys. My key chain had a fob on it with a twenty dollar gold piece set into it, a present from my father celebrating my graduation from college.

I hadn’t gone more than a block or so from my front door when I saw a quarter lying there on the sidewalk. With no one to tend to this tender, I took on the heroic task of bending over to rescue the shiny coin. I dropped it in my pocket thinking how lucky I was that day. Immediately my pocket burst into a commotion. I listened closely wondering what kind of magic I had just encountered.

“Hey! Who let you in here, you little worthless thing?” yelled the dollar bill. “It won’t be long before they stop making you like they did the penny.”

“Well, well, well, look who’s talking,” said the twenty dollar bill. “You’re welcome is almost as worn out as you and you aren’t but one twentieth of what I am.”

“Lol!” Laughed the one hundred dollar bill. “You,” it said to the dollar bill, “need a hundred of you to equal me. And you, Mr. big shot twenty dollar bill, need five of you to equal me. You two are just small potatoes and shouldn’t be trying to throw your weight around by putting down this poor little coin.”

Just then there was a movement in my pocket accompanied by a rustling sound as the key fob moved to the top of the heap.

“You,” said the twenty dollar gold piece addressing the dollar bill from the fob where it was encased, “have become an embarrassment to the country. And you, Mr. Twenty Dollar bill, used to buy a whole pickup load of groceries and you have become so devalued that you can’t even buy one bag of groceries. And you, Mr. Big Shot One Hundred Dollar Bill, people may use you to light an expensive cigar or roll you up into a little tube to stick up their noses, but you are getting worth less every day.”

There was a rustling commotion in my pocket and a couple of boos slipped out.

“Who do you think you are?” asked the One Hundred Dollar Bill. “King of the castle?”

“Well, maybe not the castle, but I’m worth a lot more than you. Why in 1950, I could fill up a car’s tank with gas twenty times and now you can hardly fill it up once but I can still fill up a car’s tank twenty times if not more.”

“Yeah, well wait until they devalue you!” Exclaimed the Twenty Dollar Bill. “You won’t be talking so big then.”

“They won’t and can’t devalue me. I’m worth the same today as I will be tomorrow. The amount of dollars to obtain me goes up, but what I am able to buy doesn’t change much. What you should be worried about is the constant inflation caused by the printing of bills like you. Why the presses haven’t stopped since at least 1980.”

“Yeah, what do you know?” said the Twenty Dollar Bill.

“I know that you are all coming to an end, “ said the Twenty Dollar Gold Piece.

“What’re you talking about? People are always going to need money. We’ve got a secure job!” exclaimed the One Hundred Dollar Bill.

“Yep. One day you all will be worthless and they will burn you up in a great big bonfire,” the Twenty Dollar Gold Piece said as if he couldn’t wait.

“No!” The chorus from inside my pocket was deafening.

“The inflation will not be your only enemy. They are planning on replacing you with electrons.”

“But they need power for that. What if the power fails?” squawked the Dollar Bill.

“That is indeed a good question. I’m not sure the keepers of the economy know,” said the Twenty Dollar Gold Piece.

“Why would they do such a thing?” asked the Hundred Dollar Bill.

“It’s a long story,” answered the Twenty Dollar Gold Piece, “Part of it is that they have wrecked the present system and will need to migrate to a new one. Part of it is that those who control the money want more control over who spends, where they spend, what they spend it on, how much they pay, and when they spend.”

“B-but that’s Unconstitutional!” Cried the Hundred Dollar Bill.

“Did I tell you? They’re burning that piece of paper too.”

All the bills roared but quieted down quickly as I fished them out of my pocket to pay my water bill leaving the quarter and my key chain fob with the twenty dollar gold piece to quietly rest in my pocket.

Up until this point, I never understood the phrase, “money talks.” I now fully understand it and realize that when money talks, we need to listen.