Milo Yield: Laugh Tracks in the Dust 3-26-12
March 26, 2012
You’ll recall that a generous anonymous person recently donated to me a one trillion dollar bill of “official looking” currency. And, in the aftermath of that largess, I promised to buy all my friends and acquaintances in Chase County a round of drinks and meals – even filet mignon steaks.
The problem is no one could make change for a one trillion dollar bill. Well, this week, another anonymous person stepped to the plate and promised to break the trillion dollar bill with two 500 billion dollar bills.
But, that still posed the same problem of breaking those huge amounts of money into something I can spend on my friends – something like $100 bills.
So, my friends, I looked on the internet to find out how much space it would take to store one trillion dollars in $100 bills. Turns out, I’d have to build me an immense hay barn to hold all my money.
The size of the shed would by 544-feet long and 205-feet wide to hold my hoard of $100 bills. The good news is the barn only has to be 4-feet high.
Here’s how the internet explained it: “$1,000,000,000,000 is 10,000,000,000 of bills of $100 each. We are talking about 2.5 acres. If you stand in the corner and walk 205-feet; turn right and you move perpendicular to the line 544-feet, turn back to you right and goes by others 205-feet, you turn right again and walk others 544-feet to the point of departure. Imagine the area filled with $100 bills. Well, you’re seeing ONE TRILLION. I don’t recommend you count one by one each bill of $100. You could die in the attempt. It is secure. We’re talking about two and a half football fields with a height of 3.58-feet – all full of notes of 100 dollars.”
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I’m afraid my friends may be waiting awhile for me to pony up and buy those drinks and meals with my new trillion dollar bill. I can’t afford to build the barn to store the money in – and do you know why? Because no builder I know can make change for one trillion dollars when I try to pay for it.
At least now we all know how to envision a trillion dollars when the TV folks talk about it. Or, try to envision our national debt of $15.5 trillion. It would cover 45 football fields to a depth of almost 4-feet – all $100 bills. It’s a dilemma, or perhaps better described as a “dollaremma.”
A rural judge, working a double-homicide case in his county, tells the farmer defendant, “You’re charged with beating your hired man to death with a hammer.”
“You no account neighbor!” yells a voice from the back of the courtroom.
“You’re also charged with killing your mother-in-law with a chain saw,” says the judge.
“No account neighbor!” the same person yells.
The judge adjusts his robe and with notable ire in his voice addresses the overall-clad man sitting in the back of the courtroom. “Sir, one more outburst like that and I’ll charge you with contempt.”
“I’m sorry, Your Honor,” says the man. “But I’ve been this no account’s neighbor for 10 years, and every time I asked to borrow a hammer or a chain saw, he told me he didn’t have either one.”
I went to a local state lake recently for my first fishing trip of the season. I wuz fishing from the bank when an obviously well-used farm pickup truck, filled to overflowing with kids, dogs and camping gear, pulled into a campsite where I could watch them.
The four children leaped from the vehicle and began feverishly unloading gear and setting up the tent. The boys rushed to gather firewood, while the girls and their mother set up the camp stove, cooking utensils and clothes line.
I wuz so impressed by that sterling example of family teamwork, I walked up to the father and told him, “That, sir, was some display of teamwork.”
The father smiled, gave a tug to his belt and replied, “I have a system. No one goes to the bathroom until the camp is set up.”
And, from Colorado comes this story:
The rodeo queen was about to become engaged. She was quite the beauty, and she didn’t mind letting her boyfriend know it, too.
As her cowboy fiance was slipping a diamond engagement ring on her finger, she said, “A lot of men are gonna be totally miserable when I marry.”
“Really?” asked the boyfriend, pausing before he released his hold on the ring. “And just how many men are you planning to marry?”
Well, we recently switched to daylight savings time and all the kids in my community are now getting on the school bus in the dark, plus my biological clock in messed up.
I wuz reminded of what an Oklahoma Cherokee Indian friend of mine said one time when daylight savings time rolled around.
“Leave it up to the government to cut a foot off the top of a blanket, sew it onto the bottom of the blanket, and say now you have a longer blanket,” he said.
Makes sense to me! And, those are this column’s words of wisdom for this week. We’re having great spring weather. Hope you are too.
Have a good ‘un.