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Two More, Poi Basta . . .


. . . or, for all you non-Italians, “and then that’s it.” First of all, on the subject of women named Jaime, who pretend — I mean, who pronounce their name “Jamie”: Turns out there are a lot of them. One reader recalled Jaime Sommers, the Bionic Woman. Ah, yes: the Bionic Woman, played by Lindsay Wagner. One of my earliest loves, if only she had known it.

I’m going to publish one more letter on pennies, then that’s it — though these stories are extremely enjoyable, I’m finding:


You gave me a wonderful opportunity to remember my Grampa. Carl Kratt was born in 1902 and emigrated from Germany in 1925. He lived ’til he was 101. I called him “Old Man” — to his face and as a title of respect. I could fill your ear with beautiful stories about this ordinary man, but I’ll stick to the point and tell you my penny story.

Back when I was in high school (Grampa must’ve been 90), it somehow became fashionable to drop the pennies you got back as change at the foot of the counter. The one time I did it in the presence of Grampa was the last time I did it. “You dropped a penny,” he said in his wonderful German accent. “So? It’s just a penny,” I said. He picked up the penny and put it in his pocket. Then he looked me in the eye and said, “If you don’t want a penny, you ain’t worth a dollar.”

I thank God for Grampa every time I pick up a penny off the street.

I may weaken on the just two more, but I think that’s it — what with work to be done and all. Thanks to everyone.


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