Nea Fane – Un Biet Român Pripășit în America / A Hapless Romanian Stuck in The US

Twenty-something years ago, I wrote this about my dad:

Ever since he found a ten-dollar bill on the street, he walks around staring at the ground and no longer takes the bus. The result has been a growing pile of interesting things appearing around the house: screws, nuts, a spike, a pair of eyeglass frames without lenses, a wooden box without a lid, a piece of wood to wedge behind my car tire so it won’t roll away, and a broken lamp. We narrowly avoided acquiring a dishwasher (naturally, a broken one) that he wanted to salvage for parts and a hose.

Over the past few months, during my morning walks with the livestock, I’ve found a few things myself: a pocketknife, a tactical dagger, a ring, a scalpel, and, this morning, a small paintbrush. I almost walked right past it, but at the last second, I realized I needed it.

Baloo handles the roadkill and discarded food scraps. Sometimes Gicu helps.

In any case, the number of sharp objects I’ve found probably says something about the neighborhood.

A ten-dollar bill, though? My neighbors wouldn’t lose one if their lives depended on it.