In the ‘70s, beer can collecting was all the rage, and my brother had quite the collection. One time I was riding up our block on a toy horse on wheels, when a friend of my brother came up and told me my brother had wanted to give him a can, would I go get one? So I chose the one that looked the neatest, which was his rarest, a can from Hawaii. When my brother got home, I happily told him how I’d helped, only he went berserk. The kid had lied and scammed me. I was in trouble. My dad had to go visit the kid’s parents. High-level negotiations were had, by nightfall, the can was returned and I was off the hook. Scammers of the innocent have always been a fact of life.