As far back as I can remember, the pickle jar sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents’ bedroom. When we got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar. As a small boy, I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then, the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the the jar was filled.