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
First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for all the kind words during this dark period of my detecting life. My trials and tribulations will only be surmountable with the support of viewers like you. Maybe, just maybe, the rising sun will once again become a thing of beauty to me. But I am not naive to think that this perilous plight is far from over. I may need to summon strength that I honestly don’t know that I have. Time will tell. Being weakened both physically and mentally from the ordeal of the last week, I decided that a new course of action was required. Vitamin supplements were the order of the day. Proper rest, as well as the reading of the good book, (R.S. Yeomans Guide Book of United States Coins, 60th Edition) and only organic meat and Range-Free vegetables would be consumed. Starting to feel like maybe I had rounded the corner of this rocky road, I soon fell into my first restful sleep since encountering The Darkness.
But once again, I digress……
The phone woke me early Monday morning, jarring me away from warm, happy, non sexual dreams. Odd, I thought, normally I turn the ringer off. It was off! “It’s me; I’ll meet you at the usual site. Be there.” Then He Who Can Not Be Named hung up. It was starting. Deciding to keep my chin up, as well as a stiff upper lip, I started my day. After the usual light breakfast of plain yoghurt, one slice of whole wheat toast, (lightly buttered) and six ounces of fresh squeezed Kumquat juice, I showered and prepared myself for the upcoming ordeal. I would have to forgo my weekly reading to the deaf, (the secret is to mouth the words slowly), as I was running a little behind schedule. I hopped into my Ed Begley Jr. approved Priuse, (take that Oil Companies!), and popped in the latest purchase, a “Wham” cd. Gosh, I wondered, whatever happened to those guys? They must have gotten married and settled down by now, raising families. Adhering to the proper legal speed limit, I arrived at our local rendezvous, only to witness the strangest site to befall me in a very long time. The Man Who Can Not Be Named was standing next to several of the local street vagrants, who seemed to be acting out some bizarre form of drunken choreography. Almost like a minuet puppet dance, minus the strings. Seeing me approach, T.M.W.C.N.B.N. threw down what appeared to be a handful of coins, laughing all the while, as the poor downtrodden individuals scampered on all fours to retrieve the tossed coinage. “Well, that’s one way to get rid of all those corroded zinc pennies!” he chortled. Trying my best to ignore the scene befalling me, I proceeded to set up my trusty detector and start to hunt. Making sure that I had plenty of fresh batteries (just in case the same, odd thing that happened previously, when the “low battery” icon appeared), I focused on a distant point so as not to deviate from my chosen path. After about an hour of fruitless hunting, I asked nervously how T.M.W.C…. was doing. He then showed me a handful of relics, old military buttons, and various other remarkable items, laughing all the while! This cannot be, I cried! Not again! Then the body aches started. The cloudiness in my head. The feeling of impending doom. “What’s a matter, you look a little pale” he sarcastically asked, “you act as if someone had put a curse on you!” Then and there, I decided something must be done. “Let us perhaps try a different locale for a few hours, and give this one a rest” “We can always come back.” “Sure”, he replied, but I’m just gonna kick your but wherever we end up detecting.” I bit my tongue and resolved there and then to fight with all my might. Getting in the car, I once again had to roll all the windows down to escape the awful stench, (apparently Gin this time), that permeated his very being. I politely offered him an all natural, organic granola bar, which he promptly spit up on my faux leather interior. (Remember, Meat is Murder!) “What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?” he cried. I said nothing, and continued to drive. Up ahead in the distance, I saw what appeared to be a construction site. Goody! I thought, maybe it’s some place good to hunt. We pulled up to the front of an old church that had its front and side areas scrapped down to the curb. It looked great! “What the Hell is this? Why are we stopping here?” he screeched. “Why, this place looks wonderful”, I replied. I got out of the car, and retrieved my detector from the trunk. “I don’t know about this”, he mumbled. Apparently resigned that I was going to hunt here, he slowly got out of the car. I turned on my White’s and started hunting. Suddenly, the aches and pains vanished from my body! I could think clearly, clearer than I had in days! Targets started popping out of the ground for me! First a 1933 Australian Penny, then a beautiful 1936-S mercury dime! Then, out of nowhere, a 1902, followed by a great condition 1889 Indian Head penny appeared. I felt whole again! Turning to T.M.W.C….I asked how he was doing. “Crappy, this place sucks!” Ignoring his blasphemes, I showed him what I found, careful not to let him get too near my outstretched hand. Soon it started to rain, and we had to leave. In the car, I suddenly realized what had happened. Apparently, hunting on Consecrated grounds had diminished his detecting abilities!! Might I have discovered a “chink” in his armor? Were we now on equal footing? Only time will tell.
But once again, I digress……
The phone woke me early Monday morning, jarring me away from warm, happy, non sexual dreams. Odd, I thought, normally I turn the ringer off. It was off! “It’s me; I’ll meet you at the usual site. Be there.” Then He Who Can Not Be Named hung up. It was starting. Deciding to keep my chin up, as well as a stiff upper lip, I started my day. After the usual light breakfast of plain yoghurt, one slice of whole wheat toast, (lightly buttered) and six ounces of fresh squeezed Kumquat juice, I showered and prepared myself for the upcoming ordeal. I would have to forgo my weekly reading to the deaf, (the secret is to mouth the words slowly), as I was running a little behind schedule. I hopped into my Ed Begley Jr. approved Priuse, (take that Oil Companies!), and popped in the latest purchase, a “Wham” cd. Gosh, I wondered, whatever happened to those guys? They must have gotten married and settled down by now, raising families. Adhering to the proper legal speed limit, I arrived at our local rendezvous, only to witness the strangest site to befall me in a very long time. The Man Who Can Not Be Named was standing next to several of the local street vagrants, who seemed to be acting out some bizarre form of drunken choreography. Almost like a minuet puppet dance, minus the strings. Seeing me approach, T.M.W.C.N.B.N. threw down what appeared to be a handful of coins, laughing all the while, as the poor downtrodden individuals scampered on all fours to retrieve the tossed coinage. “Well, that’s one way to get rid of all those corroded zinc pennies!” he chortled. Trying my best to ignore the scene befalling me, I proceeded to set up my trusty detector and start to hunt. Making sure that I had plenty of fresh batteries (just in case the same, odd thing that happened previously, when the “low battery” icon appeared), I focused on a distant point so as not to deviate from my chosen path. After about an hour of fruitless hunting, I asked nervously how T.M.W.C…. was doing. He then showed me a handful of relics, old military buttons, and various other remarkable items, laughing all the while! This cannot be, I cried! Not again! Then the body aches started. The cloudiness in my head. The feeling of impending doom. “What’s a matter, you look a little pale” he sarcastically asked, “you act as if someone had put a curse on you!” Then and there, I decided something must be done. “Let us perhaps try a different locale for a few hours, and give this one a rest” “We can always come back.” “Sure”, he replied, but I’m just gonna kick your but wherever we end up detecting.” I bit my tongue and resolved there and then to fight with all my might. Getting in the car, I once again had to roll all the windows down to escape the awful stench, (apparently Gin this time), that permeated his very being. I politely offered him an all natural, organic granola bar, which he promptly spit up on my faux leather interior. (Remember, Meat is Murder!) “What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?” he cried. I said nothing, and continued to drive. Up ahead in the distance, I saw what appeared to be a construction site. Goody! I thought, maybe it’s some place good to hunt. We pulled up to the front of an old church that had its front and side areas scrapped down to the curb. It looked great! “What the Hell is this? Why are we stopping here?” he screeched. “Why, this place looks wonderful”, I replied. I got out of the car, and retrieved my detector from the trunk. “I don’t know about this”, he mumbled. Apparently resigned that I was going to hunt here, he slowly got out of the car. I turned on my White’s and started hunting. Suddenly, the aches and pains vanished from my body! I could think clearly, clearer than I had in days! Targets started popping out of the ground for me! First a 1933 Australian Penny, then a beautiful 1936-S mercury dime! Then, out of nowhere, a 1902, followed by a great condition 1889 Indian Head penny appeared. I felt whole again! Turning to T.M.W.C….I asked how he was doing. “Crappy, this place sucks!” Ignoring his blasphemes, I showed him what I found, careful not to let him get too near my outstretched hand. Soon it started to rain, and we had to leave. In the car, I suddenly realized what had happened. Apparently, hunting on Consecrated grounds had diminished his detecting abilities!! Might I have discovered a “chink” in his armor? Were we now on equal footing? Only time will tell.
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