Bestowed with the gift from my admittedly kinda shady mentor in a trenchcoat, I raced across Washington Park trying to find all the moderately moderate Old Gold before the timer ran out. Imagine my surprise when no consequence arrived. Was that what the old man was trying to teach me all along? Slow down, kid. Let it happen. See what you discover. All goals are illusions. You opened my mind when you opened your trenchcoat, you strange old man. I salute you. Maybe the memories we made along the way were the most moderate items of all.