We got a box in the mail the other day. From our friend Richard.
There seemed to be nothing inside. Which is to say, it was extremely light.
I opened it with curiosity.
The results were not unsatisfying. What is that you say?
Let’s take a closer look. Yes, it was a $100 bill carefully folded into the shape of a men’s short-sleeve polo shirt and clipped onto a bright red wire by tiny wooden clothespins.
Amazing. Marvelous. Maddening.
Maddening because we cannot possibly spend it.
The $100 was meant to pay for two subscriptions, one to Bobbledy and the other to Idiots’Books. But here’s the rub. In thus folding the bill, Richard transformed currency into art, which, being priceless, cannot be turned back into currency without a corresponding loss of value.
It’s a conundrum we’ll have to live with, I suppose. Perhaps some day, we’ll be down to our final dime and will decide that the best kind of art is that which can be easily unfolded and traded for a warm supper.