The penny was from my jug. The jug sits on the dresser until full and then goes to the bank, contents deposited, and the proceeds put towards some frolicking detour. So I just pulled this penny out of the jug. But I’ve been doing the same routine with the jug since about 1973.
For those who’ve read some of my blog posts and stories, you may be familiar with two chapters in my earlier life – my “Folkie Palace years” and my “Adventures in Coastal Living years.” One grades into the other after a disastrous 1971 which almost saw me shot dead and living on the streets of Boston.

By 1973 I was well into Adventures in Coastal Living phase of my life as I studied anthropology in Boston and life in a coastal Maine community, pretty much serially. But, interestingly, the Folkie Palace years were buried and only occasionally came to the surface. I avoided contact with my earlier friends and associates and put my past far behind me. I was still a folksinger, but I changed most of my repertoire, looks, and stage presence.
I was the new model.

I was Lou Carreras at school, but since so many people in Maine knew me as Wes, that identity continued. So if it sounds a bit like a case of multiple personalities, it was, in a way.

Sometime in the late 1980s, I merged the two streams. As a result, I could write about my experiences and learn things that should have been apparent years ago. I’ll frequently write about an episode, and in writing, much will occur to me that I had observed but had never internally commented on nor digested.

Once in a while, the denizens of the Palace show up in Coastal Maine. It’s a bit like oil and water. I just shrug and remind myself that they all currently reside inside my mind.