The Color of Money

There is no Fiction so compelling or so Absolute as that of Money. Mere paper or metal, made Valuable with Words and Pictures - an Astonishing and utterly Imaginative product of human Fancy. It has always been Attractive - be it Coins of glinting Gold, Silver and Copper - largely Useless except as Ornament; at least so it is in Other lands. But our Nation has long been starkly Unimaginative - and our Money has long been grimly Monochromatic, or nearly so; the color of a Military Uniform - a viridescent hue quite unlike the fresh greens of Spring.

I am not abashed to say that, given a choice between these Bills and the equally popular Credit-Cards, I am somewhat old-fashioned, preferring a pouch replete with those nice heavy gold Dollar Coins with the charming Indian girl - I forget her Name, but the Coin that bears her likeness is comfortably like the Sovereigns of Old. I drop them into outstretched Hands when I visit the Coffee-House, when I take a Cab; when the Shoe-Shine lad restores a proper Gleam to my Shoes - all seem to Welcome their gleaming Heft. But alas, they lack the fiduciary Potency to pay most of my Expenses; and I need to rely on common, drab Paper currency.

Opening my Billfold then was like a surprising Dawn; I was taken Aback and at first assumed I had been given Coupons for the Coffee-House again, as was done last Month. But no! - for the gentle, unmistakably artistic Hues glinting in my Wallet were on genuine American bills, placed there by my Secretary upon her return from the Bank. I was so Astonished, I let my Spectacles fall into my Drink. Remarkable!

I turned the Bill this way and That, marveling at the shockingly Pastel hues of the American Eagle; the free-spirited portrait of Andrew Jackson, burst free from the staid Confines of his portrait-frame; I marvel at the touch of Copper in the iridescent Number in the corner. This is not mere Currency, it is Art.

And Art bodes Well for our Nation! - for I cannot help but notice that the grim March of Progress that has made of our nation a humorless Goliath coincides with the slow tread of decades powered by our dully utilitarian Currency. If money is Fiction, then its expression is surely a Window to the Soul; and I hope this remarkably free-spirited incarnation of this Pillar of American Society bespeaks a fresh breath of Imagination, of looking beyond our Shores and our Selves.

Stride forth, America! Let this gentle hint of Grace herald a turning-point. I shall lead the way by giving one of these marvelous Bills to the Shoe-Shine lad. I suspect he could use both artistic Inspiration and an extra Twenty.