In the furthest left-hand corner of my closet I found an old pair of jeans that I am certain that I have not worn in over a year though they were once worn no less than once a week; often twice. How they got thrown up on the shelf haphazardly and slightly above my line of sight I do not know. I only know I am glad that we have been reacquainted. As if this small thing – a small thing which brought me great happiness, certainly, but a small thing was not enough — as I slid into my broken-in beauties I felt something in my back left pocket. Upon investigation I found an old $10 bill which to a poky, meandering academic is important ( it feels like my annual income at times). Ten whole dollars!?! Grateful isn’t even the word. I am grateful and also hoping that my dad is somewhat aware of these touchdown dances I do when I happen upon a quarter, never mind a bill (of any denomination) because he once accused me of not knowing the value of a dollar. While that may have been true for a spell I think I have us both proud, or at least I hope so.