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 More Grandpa Davey Speaks
 
 
 A Path with a Heart
 Answers
 A Stop at Willoughby
 Can't Captue It
 Choices
 Corrections
 Crossing Texas
 Ewe To?
 Girls
 Golden Biscuits
 Invest in Yourself
 Killing Me Softly
 Leave it to Beaver
 Locke Machine
 Lost in the Grand Canyon
 Mind Over Temperature
 Mother of all Storms
 Mr. Wizard
 Mysterious Money
 No Sense at All
 Not Shadow People
 Poverty Point
 Queer Creatures
 Reckless Abandon
 Shadow People
 Squirt Gets Run Over
 Sub Prime
 Surrogates
 TEOTWAWKI
 The Cheapest Medicine
 The Golden Calf
 Ticket to Freedom
 Two Types of Girls
 Vaya Con Dios
 Wake Up!
 Where's the Beef?
 Worst Case Scenario
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 Corrections
 
 In
			Mysterious Money, I promised to 
			tell the story of “The Drillpress” in which I would illustrate how 
			we can change the past as easily as the future. Today I will tell 
			the story, a trivial tale with grander implications. I shall attempt 
			to relate an incident where reality changed on a daily basis.
 
 
  One late March day (the 25th to be exact), I happened to be in the 
			welding shop of the company in which I had been employed for the 
			past six months. Observing a drillpress there, I recalled that one 
			had been ordered. This would eliminate frequent treks by the welder 
			to the machine shop. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that this 
			tool was nearly identical to one I had previously owned. It was 
			identical except having larger balls on the quill feed handle. 
 Arriving at home on that Saturday afternoon, I quickly told Sweet 
			Mom of my discovery.
 
 The following Monday, I told a coworker of my find. He told me that 
			the new drillpress was in the machine shop and the welding shop had 
			inherited the old one. This made no sense at all. Occasionally I had 
			used this one and had seen no similarity. At this point, all I could 
			recall of the old tool was that it had two locking screws on the 
			belt tension. Mine had only one. Rushing to the welding shop, I 
			discovered two locking screws. Now the drillpress appeared as mine 
			except larger balls and two locking screws.
 
 This was quite perplexing as I would recognize my tools as most 
			would know their own phone number. Each day I would check the 
			drillpress and each day I discovered more differences.
 
 In the end this drillpress had only a slight resemblance to mine. 
			Each day my perception would evolve to bring rationality to my 
			observations. Now I realize that I was wrong. This tool never looked 
			like mine. But, deep inside, I know the truth.
 
 When, by accident, we notice these little bloopers, we just correct 
			the error and restore order to our perceived universe.
 
 ©09/27/08
 
 
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