When I was a kid, you could buy a double-scoop ice cream cone for a nickel.

That was the 1950s.

Today, the same cone might cost five or six dollars.

Is it worth that much?

To answer that question, let me tell you two true stories.

About twenty years ago, my wife Kate and I were visiting Hong Kong. We cashed a check at an American Express office. The teller handed us a hundred-dollar bill that was so poorly printed part of the design was missing.

I pointed this out rather vigorously.

The teller exchanged it for another bill.

When I returned to Los Angeles, I mentioned the incident to an FBI friend. A few days later, a Secret Service agent named Mike called me.

He told me they were aware of counterfeit American currency circulating in parts of Asia. One counterfeiter had become particularly skilled at producing fake bills that looked remarkably convincing.

That conversation led to another.

Several months later, I found myself talking to a banker at a wedding reception. He explained that enormous quantities of worn U.S. currency were routinely collected overseas, destroyed, and replaced with new bills.

I asked him how much counterfeit money they encountered.

“Hard to say,” he replied.

“You don’t check it?”

“No. We weigh it.”

He explained that when you’re processing tens of millions of dollars, weighing currency is much faster than examining every bill individually.

That answer stuck with me.

For years afterward, whenever I heard people talk about counterfeiting, I found myself wondering how much bad money might be circulating unnoticed.

Not enough to make me take up the profession, of course.

For one thing, prison has never struck me as an ideal writing environment.

More important, there is the matter of looking in the mirror.

If you spend your life cheating people, sooner or later you begin to think of yourself as a cheat.

That seems like a steep price to pay.

Most crimes are not just crimes against institutions. They are crimes against ordinary people.

Every dishonest act makes life a little more expensive, a little more complicated, and a little less fair for everyone else.

Including kids.

Especially kids.

Which brings us back to the ice cream cone.

I happen to love ice cream cones.

If they cost six dollars, I still think they’re worth buying.

In fact, while you’re at it, buy one for someone you love.

There are many things in life that become more valuable as they become more expensive.

Ice cream isn’t one of them.

Its value has never had much to do with the price.

The value comes from standing in the sunshine on a summer afternoon, trying to lick the thing before it drips down your arm.

It comes from sharing one with your spouse.

Or your grandchild.

Or a friend.

The price may change.

The experience doesn’t.

And that’s why, whether it costs a nickel or six bucks, an ice cream cone is still one of the best deals in town.

Besides, compared to jail, it’s a bargain.