Ten Minutes til Wapner...

I was cleaning out our car and, peering into the trunk, was mystified by this bag.

Inside were hundreds of (what do you call them?) aluminum pull tabs, each one carefully peeled off, rinsed, and placed in this ziplock bag. Then repeated over and over and over pathologically until the bag bulged heavily. I fantasized for a split second that they were gold dubloons.

"Oh, sure, I can see how these are going to be useful..." I thought to myself.

More like: "Has Fran gone over the edge, finally? I knew these two kids were going to wear her down, someday! She's somehow morphed into Rain Man and she's going to weird-out on me..."

I picked up the bag which was surprisingly heavy. I took it inside the house and dropped it dramatically on the table and the ziplock gave way, spilling a few of the tabs on the table, and clinking them all togther like coins. Before asking Fran what was going on, I searched desperately for any kind of explanation...any explanation that would even be acceptable. Nothing came to me. Come on, there has to be a good reason. Nothing...

Fran came around the corner, spied the bag on the table, and burst out laughing--I couldn't tell if it was the circumstance or the expression on my face.

She explained: Ten years ago, while on vacation, her aunt had seen a girl wearing a belt made out of these tabs. She asked her about it and the girl told her that she had bought it for $20. Twenty bucks! So she did the math and figured out that she needed about 50 or so per belt--they drink lot's of coke--they could make a killing! It'll all be so easy!

So this little business plan was set into motion, executed faithfully, and now I was marveling at the ten year stockpile, the result of this meticulous process. But now the aunt decided that she didn't want to make the belts, but someone should. somehow, that anonymous someone politely claimed the tabs while visiting the aunt with Fran and somehow, inexplicably, left this precious cargo in our car and hasn't come looking for them in, um, 2 months now...

Well, how can I throw them away, now, realizing all the effort and thought that went into collecting them? Someone pried these can tabs off every coke can for years, chuckling to themselves about how they were going to beat the system and cash in.

Ebay!?

A suit of chain mail armor?

Snow chains? (uh, I live in Texas, so scratch that)

I'm open for suggestions...