The money you see pictured is no fortune, but have you ever walked past a $243.20 bill and not reached over to pick it up?

Me either.

There is a blue tin vase by my car keys next to the front door, and this silver bucket pictured sits in a corner of my room. I put whatever change is in my pockets at the end of the day into one of them. You do the same thing.

And now and then you cash in.

So I’d poured the blue vase money into the silver bucket money and put it on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat, which seemed safer than putting it on the floorboard of the driver’s seat. This week I was driving by Origin Bank, which allows me to have an account and treats me like Jed Clampett even thought I couldn’t even afford to buy that multi-leveled old truck Uncle Jed drives.

Impulsively, I pulled into the bank. I’d had towels over the silver thing for a week so no one would break into my car and steal the loot. Perfect timing.

Walked in and there was David Darland, a V.P. (bank talk for “vice president” and one of my main men). He saw me standing there with my silver bucket, which could mean only one thing: I needed to visit the Magic Machine.

The Magic Machine is a deal the size of a clothes dryer with a hole in the top of it and a money-counting and coin-sorting brain in the middle of it. Really an amazing piece of equipment. You pour coins in, it disappears, then a receipt pops out telling you how much money it counted.

That money is yours.

In my opinion, it is a fine machine.

Less than five minutes after walking in, I was walking out of Origin with a deposit slip that read $243.20. When we started pouring the money into the Magic Machine — eagerly, I might add — I guessed 83 bucks and change. David figured 270. He was closer, thank goodness. He has a banker’s eye.

Of course I owe this money to someone else, which is why I deposited it instead of putting it into my wallet. But still, for a moment, I felt like Uncle Jed.

Hope your weekend is money!

-30-