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Saturday, December 31, 2011

My ship came in, but it was smaller, significantly smaller, than even a toy kayak

I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy
I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy
I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy
I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy
I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads. Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”? I’m within crawling distance of retirement — crawling is all I can manage at this point — so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak. The note also coincided with news — reported on the front page of this newspaper — that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property payment from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go OMG!Two seconds after seeing the note, I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.The check, drawn on JPMorgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” — as in “a salary in the high six figures.” I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures.”And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures. The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says. David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.

Read more here: http://www.kansascity.com/2011/12/27/3340159/david-knopf-if-i-had-a-nickel.html#storylink=misearch#storylink=cpy
   This column, published Dec. 28 in The Kansas City Star Northland News,is reproduced here with permission of the newspaper. It's linked below.

I imagined far less than a ship filled with riches.
  I’m prone to believe notes left on my desk. Especially ones that say, “Your ship has come in!”
     That my wife would’ve written such a note on the back of a business envelope (the size for a check) and used an exclamation point only inflated my expectations. She’s not the kind to use exclamation points frivolously or type OMG! after every Facebook post she reads.
     Since I’ve never bought a lottery ticket or believed in ghosts, even a flicker of belief on my part was extraordinary. But if the fairy godmother wants to knock on your door, who says, “Don’t come in”?
I’m within crawling distance of retirement – crawling is all I can manage at this point – so any accelerant to hurry it along is welcome. As they say, if you’ve got a ship coming in, I’ve got the port.
     The timing and wording of the note were all the more reason to believe. I’d been pelting the family with my latest wild-eyed dream: buying a kayak so I can explore the lakes and streams of Ray County. Let’s just say my family’s not supportive of my Lewis and Clark urges; or maybe it’s the vision of my un-limber self trying to squeeze into a kayak and then needing 911.
     In my metaphorical mind, you can see how simple it would be to transition from the note to a vision of a windfall, say a few hundred dollars, for a kayak.
     The note also coincided with news – reported on the front page of this newspaper – that a Missouri woman recently had received an unclaimed property refund from the state for $6 million. I could presumably also be taken by surprise, correct? And I wouldn’t need anywhere near $6 million to go, OMG!
An Arkansas woman also found the check blogworthy.
     Two seconds after seeing the note I looked inside the envelope. The word play and metaphorical fun would come later.
     The check, drawn on JP Morgan Chase Bank, was from the administrator of the Brice Yingling d/b/a Alamo Auto Sports and Andy Scott vs. eBay, Inc. settlement fund. I didn’t know Brice or Andy from Adam, but I’d traded on eBay, so they obviously had the right person. And in my mind, the name J.P. Morgan was synonymous with old money, and plenty of it.
     When people refer to significant amounts of money, they tend to use the term “figures” – as in “a salary in the high six figures”. I’ve never indulged in that kind of braggadocio, mainly because no one crows about his salary “being in the low five figures”.
The check was even too small for a toy kayak
 And the check from Mr. Morgan was in the “three figures,” indeed the very low three figures.
     The person who signed the check must’ve thought, “three cents, this isn’t worth the paper it’s written on”! Nor was it worth the cost of a stamp. But three cents, the potential for laughter … priceless.
     The check meant my ship wouldn’t be big enough to float in the sink, let alone a lake or stream. So I’m still waiting for mine to come in. Until then, I won’t believe anything my wife says.

David Knopf is a Northlander who earns his “low five figures” with honest labor at the Richmond News, where he is news editor. He also publishes the blog www.themagiccommute.blogspot.com and can be notified of ship sightings at dknopf@kc.rr.com.

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