On our walk this morning, I happened to spy a shiny object in my path. I managed to slow Mr. Bear to a sedate pace (his normal pace being a run or a dead stop and sniff)and checked the sparkly bit again. Lo and behold, there indeed was a penny in the street waiting for me to pick it up.
I’m used to finding pennies. Apparently, since they no longer possess gumball buying power there is the urge among a certain set to toss them aside as worthless.
I do not belong to that group of people.
A found penny is even better than a penny saved or a penny earned–unless you found said penny on a person you just rolled or killed (Can’t you tell I’m a writer?) then that would be a bad penny (and you would be a bad person).
Which is kinda in keeping with the idiom, a bad penny always turns up–meaning a person you don’t want to see manages to appear at just the right moment to screw up something you were looking forward to.
Of course, the saying also refers to an actual bad penny, read counterfeit penny. Because once upon a time when unicorns and giants roamed the Earth, pennies were actually worth something. Your only recourse when stuck with a bad penny was to try to spend it on some unsuspecting merchant as quickly as possible. Given that most folks were born, lived and died in the same village meant they were very likely to encounter said bad penny again. (I wonder if this was before fruitcake was invented?)
Before the penny became completely worthless, a bad one was the one you couldn’t put in the gumball machine because it was bent. Now, does anyone think it matters if it’s heads-up or tails up?