curbdiggercarl57
Silver Member
- Nov 19, 2007
- 4,362
- 1,041
- 🏆 Honorable Mentions:
- 1
- Detector(s) used
- Whites Silver Eagle, DFX, Shadow X-2
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
My Three Cents Worth, And a Warning
I have been noticing with much apprehension an alarming trend in regards to a certain individual’s postings of late. He will remain nameless, and although the finds that he mentions found are indeed true, (I will bear witness to that fact), his methods of detecting are in question. He may appear warm and witty, almost poet-like in his postings, but like a poisonous snake, his tongue is forked.
But I digress; please let me explain…..
It was a beautiful sunny day in Denver, (although every day is a beautiful day!), and after completing my various civic minded responsibilities, I decided to visit one of my favorite sites to detect, a site where an old 1870’s church was once located. Having found numerous wonderful coins and relics in the past, I hoped that this streak of detecting luck would hold out. Pausing only to help the occasional person of handicap as well as any elderly cross the dangerous intersection nearby, I resumed my detecting hunt. After detecting for about an hour, I noticed that dark, ominous clouds were starting to appear overhead. This is common in Colorado, so I had no major concern. It was then that I noticed a strange smell in the air. It smelled like a mixture of alcohol, vodka to be exact, as well as stale sweat. Thinking that it was coming from one of the many poor downtrodden individuals that frequent the alley ways of this area, I turned to offer my assistance, only to see a large, unshaven man swaying nearby, holding a detector in his shaking hands. “Why do ya keep helping those bums get across the streets?” “Let them crawl if they have to!” I explained that it was my and everyone’s civic duty, and as a former Explorer Scout, it was hard to get that form of kindliness out of my system.(Not that I ever would want to!) His response to that was simply, “Bah”. “Mind if I detect near ya?”, he asked, which I replied, “no, of course not!, Plenty of room here for all to hunt!” He then set up his detector and proceeded to hunt only inches from where I was detecting! Being the kindhearted person that I am, I said nothing. (When he soon realized that being so close to me caused his detector to not work properly, he moved away.) Still standing close by, I would notice that he seem to be watching my every move, as if he was trying to absorb my methods of searching the soil. After a while, I received a good signal, and bent down to dig it up. “What’d ya get, what’d ya get?” I heard him repeatedly ask. “Patience, my friend, let us see together what it may be” “Why, it appears to be an Indian Head Cent!” I proudly proclaimed. He then ripped it out my hand, stared at it, and then tossed it back to me. “Oh, I got a million of them, no big deal” “Ah, I replied, but you don’t have this particular one!” He then looked at me in a funny way, and then what appeared to be a smirk, appeared on his face. “Not yet”, I thought I heard him mumble. Being the kindhearted and caring person that I strive to be, I took no offense, and continued to detect. I then stopped detecting for a while so I could look for other areas that might be more productive. Taking my digging tool out of the pouch, I started scrapping the tops of some old bricks that were in the side of a wall. To my surprise, an 1856 3-Cent piece popped out! I couldn’t believe it! I never, ever thought that I would dig one of those here in Colorado, let alone without my detector! It’s not in the best shape, and it has a small hole in it, but I love it anyway! I then felt him hovering over me. “What did you just find?” I handed it to him, knowing that he would try and take it from me anyway. “I can’t believe you just found that! And you didn’t even use your detector!” “Guess it was just dumb luck!” I replied. “Please, may I have it back?” I asked. He tossed it at me, and then walked away. He then turned to me, and in a soft low voice, starting chanting something not unlike a nursery rhyme, not fully understandable, yet familiar, as if it was a song heard long ago but yet can never be fully remembered. That is when it all started. The Darkness. Odd, strange, unexplainable events started unfolding. Fully charged battery packs will suddenly show “low battery” I find myself walking over the same ground repeatedly, digging and redigging the same holes. Tired more often, and constantly complaining of leg and back pains. But the worst is, even though I may dig something nice, he who won’t be named will dig something better. I dig a local Denver token; he will dig an even rarer small town token. I find a burnt silver Roosevelt dime; he digs up a Seated Liberty dime. The man is unstoppable! I find a new Jefferson nickel, he’s not happy until he finds a Shield nickel! Civil War relics rarely found in Colorado are now nothing to him discovering! I now fear for my sanity, not only my previous wonderful detecting skills! This man will stop at nothing, I repeat, nothing, to satiate his own devious desires at finding items of historical and monetary value! He must be stopped! Ignore his attempts at swaying you with his keen wit, his finds have blood on them!
I have been noticing with much apprehension an alarming trend in regards to a certain individual’s postings of late. He will remain nameless, and although the finds that he mentions found are indeed true, (I will bear witness to that fact), his methods of detecting are in question. He may appear warm and witty, almost poet-like in his postings, but like a poisonous snake, his tongue is forked.
But I digress; please let me explain…..
It was a beautiful sunny day in Denver, (although every day is a beautiful day!), and after completing my various civic minded responsibilities, I decided to visit one of my favorite sites to detect, a site where an old 1870’s church was once located. Having found numerous wonderful coins and relics in the past, I hoped that this streak of detecting luck would hold out. Pausing only to help the occasional person of handicap as well as any elderly cross the dangerous intersection nearby, I resumed my detecting hunt. After detecting for about an hour, I noticed that dark, ominous clouds were starting to appear overhead. This is common in Colorado, so I had no major concern. It was then that I noticed a strange smell in the air. It smelled like a mixture of alcohol, vodka to be exact, as well as stale sweat. Thinking that it was coming from one of the many poor downtrodden individuals that frequent the alley ways of this area, I turned to offer my assistance, only to see a large, unshaven man swaying nearby, holding a detector in his shaking hands. “Why do ya keep helping those bums get across the streets?” “Let them crawl if they have to!” I explained that it was my and everyone’s civic duty, and as a former Explorer Scout, it was hard to get that form of kindliness out of my system.(Not that I ever would want to!) His response to that was simply, “Bah”. “Mind if I detect near ya?”, he asked, which I replied, “no, of course not!, Plenty of room here for all to hunt!” He then set up his detector and proceeded to hunt only inches from where I was detecting! Being the kindhearted person that I am, I said nothing. (When he soon realized that being so close to me caused his detector to not work properly, he moved away.) Still standing close by, I would notice that he seem to be watching my every move, as if he was trying to absorb my methods of searching the soil. After a while, I received a good signal, and bent down to dig it up. “What’d ya get, what’d ya get?” I heard him repeatedly ask. “Patience, my friend, let us see together what it may be” “Why, it appears to be an Indian Head Cent!” I proudly proclaimed. He then ripped it out my hand, stared at it, and then tossed it back to me. “Oh, I got a million of them, no big deal” “Ah, I replied, but you don’t have this particular one!” He then looked at me in a funny way, and then what appeared to be a smirk, appeared on his face. “Not yet”, I thought I heard him mumble. Being the kindhearted and caring person that I strive to be, I took no offense, and continued to detect. I then stopped detecting for a while so I could look for other areas that might be more productive. Taking my digging tool out of the pouch, I started scrapping the tops of some old bricks that were in the side of a wall. To my surprise, an 1856 3-Cent piece popped out! I couldn’t believe it! I never, ever thought that I would dig one of those here in Colorado, let alone without my detector! It’s not in the best shape, and it has a small hole in it, but I love it anyway! I then felt him hovering over me. “What did you just find?” I handed it to him, knowing that he would try and take it from me anyway. “I can’t believe you just found that! And you didn’t even use your detector!” “Guess it was just dumb luck!” I replied. “Please, may I have it back?” I asked. He tossed it at me, and then walked away. He then turned to me, and in a soft low voice, starting chanting something not unlike a nursery rhyme, not fully understandable, yet familiar, as if it was a song heard long ago but yet can never be fully remembered. That is when it all started. The Darkness. Odd, strange, unexplainable events started unfolding. Fully charged battery packs will suddenly show “low battery” I find myself walking over the same ground repeatedly, digging and redigging the same holes. Tired more often, and constantly complaining of leg and back pains. But the worst is, even though I may dig something nice, he who won’t be named will dig something better. I dig a local Denver token; he will dig an even rarer small town token. I find a burnt silver Roosevelt dime; he digs up a Seated Liberty dime. The man is unstoppable! I find a new Jefferson nickel, he’s not happy until he finds a Shield nickel! Civil War relics rarely found in Colorado are now nothing to him discovering! I now fear for my sanity, not only my previous wonderful detecting skills! This man will stop at nothing, I repeat, nothing, to satiate his own devious desires at finding items of historical and monetary value! He must be stopped! Ignore his attempts at swaying you with his keen wit, his finds have blood on them!
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Your design for words , paint a picture for the reader. Very, Very Talented 
Yes, he's a little touched, but he inspires people...like....um.....Nana..... 
