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Annual New Year’s wager

Right about now, the grade-school son of one of my co-workers is calling my phone at the paper. He's leaving me a message that I will hear when I get to my desk Tuesday morning.

The message is usually along the lines of "I'm still up."

No gloating. Just matter-of-fact.

Well, maybe a little gloating.

Every year, I bet him that he cannot stay up to see in the new year. And he always wins.

I'm sure he did so again this year. I'm so certain that I have already selected a coin for him. It's a gold-colored Andrew Johnson dollar.

Yes, Johnson was possibly our worst president. But if I was really a sore loser, I'd pay off in pennies.

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The Slice

The online home for Paul Turner's musings and interactions with disciples of The Slice.