bigscoop
Gold Member
- Jun 4, 2010
- 13,373
- 8,689
- Detector(s) used
- Older blue Excal with full mods, Equinox 800.
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
Detector Depression. It's real and it's on the rise. Is your detector suffering?
I saw him standing in the shadows of the far corner of his room, no expression on his tiny little face. I watched from the unlit hallway as he continued to stare blindly into the open spaces of the room, in that moment he appeared to be completely lost, perhaps completely alone and feeling that he had been abandoned. Rumbling thunder, bright flashes of lightening, a howling wind, streams of rain running down the plate glass windows, and yet nothing seemed capable of attracting his attention. And, just as it should be, as I stood in the hallway silently examining his private torment I started to feel the guilt slowly creeping in.
On the day that I rescued him from his isolated and confined life and brought him into my home I had promised him that I would never ignore his presence, that I would never allow his life to become dull and without purpose. And yet, as I stood silent in that darkened hallway I couldn’t help but to feel that I had done just that. It was true, I had broken my promise, I had been ignoring his presence and I had allowed his life to become dull and without purpose. Time, as is often the case, had brought other, perhaps far less important distractions into my life.
“Hey,” I said softly to him, “after this weather breaks I’ll take you to the beach for the day and we’ll dig around in the sand together. Maybe see what we can find.” And in that next moment, as I stood there looking at him amidst the echoes of thunder and lightening, I was certain that I saw a smile form on his tiny little face.
It's called Detector Depression and the illness attacks thousands of detectors each year. Don't let yours become the next victim of this controllable disease. It only takes a little time and a few solid beeps to prevent this disease from taking over your machine's life.
I saw him standing in the shadows of the far corner of his room, no expression on his tiny little face. I watched from the unlit hallway as he continued to stare blindly into the open spaces of the room, in that moment he appeared to be completely lost, perhaps completely alone and feeling that he had been abandoned. Rumbling thunder, bright flashes of lightening, a howling wind, streams of rain running down the plate glass windows, and yet nothing seemed capable of attracting his attention. And, just as it should be, as I stood in the hallway silently examining his private torment I started to feel the guilt slowly creeping in.
On the day that I rescued him from his isolated and confined life and brought him into my home I had promised him that I would never ignore his presence, that I would never allow his life to become dull and without purpose. And yet, as I stood silent in that darkened hallway I couldn’t help but to feel that I had done just that. It was true, I had broken my promise, I had been ignoring his presence and I had allowed his life to become dull and without purpose. Time, as is often the case, had brought other, perhaps far less important distractions into my life.
“Hey,” I said softly to him, “after this weather breaks I’ll take you to the beach for the day and we’ll dig around in the sand together. Maybe see what we can find.” And in that next moment, as I stood there looking at him amidst the echoes of thunder and lightening, I was certain that I saw a smile form on his tiny little face.
It's called Detector Depression and the illness attacks thousands of detectors each year. Don't let yours become the next victim of this controllable disease. It only takes a little time and a few solid beeps to prevent this disease from taking over your machine's life.
