Cash on the Barrelhead

I'm old school. Or at least old school-ish.

For any purchase under $20, I prefer to pay cash, and am still capable of being a bit shocked when the twenty-something in front of me at Dunkin Donuts swipes their debit card to buy a couple of munchkins. But unless I'm just running in for something quick - and that's not happening these days, when preparing for an outing to the grocery store requires more foresight and planning than the Shackleton Expedition - I always use my debit card when I'm at the grocery store. At CVS, I'll use cash for a small purchase, unless there's no self-checkout kiosk available that is cash-friendly.

For online buying, I use PayPal or the card that gives me the most bennies. 

I also write checks. Sometimes.

While I have transferred money to someone else's bank account, I mostly write checks when the transaction is personal - a birthday present - or occasional - my once a year support contract with the HVAC folks. For my regular, monthly transactions, however - phone, cable, condo fee, Blue Cross, credit cards, etc - payment is either automated or taken care of through my bank's online bill pay app. 

My political donations all happen through Act Blue because, of course, I'm never going to make a political donation to anyone who doesn't think and do Blue.

In the past, I seldom gave any money to anyone stemming for change on the street corner. If it was during opening hours, and we were near enough by, I'd direct them to St. Francis House. If not, I might buy them a cup of coffee or hand them a buck. These days, anyone asking me for cash gets $5 - I withdrew a decent enough supply of $5 bills from the bank a few weeks back - which I put on a ledge or on the ground at a social distancing distance. "I don't want to give you anything," I tell them. "And I don't want you giving anything to me."

While I did have to make a special request for all those fives, I do always have cash around. And if I get much below $100, I make a trip to the ATM.

But cash is definitely on the wane, and I wouldn't be surprised if, during my lifetime, we saw the end of cash. Cash on the barrelhead? Forget about it. (Not that anyone knows what a barrelhead is in this day and age...) 

As a cash-ish person, I was drawn to an article in the Washington Post entitled "The End of Cash."

Economists see great payoffs in a cashless society: lower costs for businesses and new tools to manage economies, stymie tax evasion and fight money laundering. Critics see an erosion of privacy, frightening new powers for governments and another sign of widening inequality. Central bankers, meanwhile, worry about losing control of the supply of money to digital networks like Facebook.

We've been steering away from cash for a while. According to the Fed, in the US, "debit cards first beat out cash as the top way to pay in 2018." Other countries are even further ahead when it comes to a preference for digital over folding green. 

Despite all this doom and gloom (or comfort and joy, if you want to look at it that way) over the demise of cash, we're still a ways away from a cashless society.

In most developed countries, however, the value of cash in circulation has risen since the financial crisis of 2008-2009 along with the number of digital payments, suggesting cash (in large bills) is being increasingly used as a store of value in uncertain times, especially with rock-bottom interest rates on savings accounts.

On the anti-cash hand, some merchants are afraid of handling cash because they believe that coronavirus might be lurking on those Benjamins. 

If and when it happens, I will miss cash.

I'm of the generation that grew up with a piggy bank, and there was nothing more satisfying than the clink of change heading in through the slot. And nothing more satisfying than using a table knife to sluice a nickel out of said piggy bank so you could go buy a popsicle or some penny candy.

I'm of the generation that was thrilled to open up a birthday card from an aunt, uncle or grandmother and find a dollar bill. Better yet, a five. 

It's still comforting to have a change bucket on hand so that, if worse comes to worst, you can roll those quarters, nickels, dimes and pennies and come up with enough money to pay for something or other.

One of the pleasures of international travel is seeing what another country's currency looks like. Sure, the Euro bland-ized things a bit, but it's still fun and interesting to find Ferenc Deák's visage on a forint, and Google him up. (Hungarian statesman and Minister of Justice. He was known as "The Wise Man of the Nation". We sure could use a Ferenc Deák around here these days.)

While it's been a while since I'd bend down to pick up a penny from the sidewalk - and I'm pretty much off nickels and dimes, as well - I'm still always happy to spot and retrieve a quarter. Bills are even better. When I was 4 years old, on a family outing to Crane's Beach, I found a $10 bill sticking out of the dunes. I still remember the thrill of it all. Ten bucks! A fortune! 

As an adult, I've found larger amounts that must have just fallen out of someone's pockets. $40 once. $50 another time. My husband found two twenties in a gutter in Central Square as he was climbing out of a cab. 

Finding cash in an amount too small to report to the police but too large to ignore is absolutely having fortune smile on you.

And is there a better feeling than reaching into a pocket and pulling out a bill? Sure, your hopes are dashed when it turns out to be a one, but if it's a ten or a twenty: pure gold. (One time it backfired on me. I was in CVS, paying for some small purchase, and remembered that I had a five in my pocket. Except that, when I went to pull it out and put it on the counter, it turned out to be a panty shield. Unused, but still... The clerk looked at me like I had two heads. My sister Trish asked me whether I was expecting a tampon in change.)

Truly, worry about the demise of cash is the least of anyone's worries these days. 

Still, I'm one of the olds who will definitely miss cash.