I have been doing a lot of thinking latley. On God, history, money and other stuff I think about when the wife aint around to bring some sense back into me while I am on Spring Break. ( I am one of those evil teachers ruining the country). I took a look at the small cache I have been able to amass in just a few months. I was filled with sorrow, for myself, my family and my country. I saw my silver Walkers, Seateds, Mercs, and franklins and thought " there, that is my Grandfathers money!" I was filled with pride. I then see my 40% ers. Less bright, Less heavy but still powerfull, and I think "there is my fathers money". I marvel at the fact that he has worked the same factory for 35 years, moved his way up and provided for a family of 6. As I pulled into my last dump bank today I ponder the fact that my money is something I seek to get rid of. To dump. I know its Fiat. Fake. All this searching to obtain just a small portion of my ancestors money and security. Gas after all, and I know this might not be perfect reasoning, still cost 25 cents. You just need a silver quarter. Part of me laments the increased competition, the part that wants it all for myself. I was five min. behind one of you all day, kept hearing " a guy came in five min ago". Its ok though, who ever you are, you missed a Ben in the tray. But in the end, I would rather one of my fellow Americans find wild silver and increase thier families security during coming hard times, than to see it get culled by some corporation or bank. Long live the hunt.
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