Honolulu Lite
In a momentary fit of insanity, I bought my daughter a metal detector for her 13th birthday. I could have bought her a big sign saying "Geek" for her to hold over her head while she walks around in public, which, in her eyes, probably would be less embarrassing than walking around with a metal detector. If it walks like
a geek, it’s probably
hunting metalI don't know what I was thinking. Well, yes I do. I was thinking that if I bought her something that we could use together, maybe I could push her back to that adorable age when she enjoyed being out with me, or at least wasn't embarrassed by me. I don't get it. I've been doing the same stuff for years: riding the shopping cart across the parking lot, telling corny jokes to cashiers, sending food back at restaurants ... and all of a sudden these are profound acts of embarrassment to my daughter.
So, the metal detector was a bad idea. But it cost $150, damn it, and at least I would use it. I dragged her along to watch, but she wouldn't even be seen next to me while I carried the contraption. ("No, that's not my dad. My dad is, ah, in prison. In Mexico.")
So I went out by myself to Ala Moana Beach Park and started skimming over the sand looking for treasure. And I've got to admit, I did feel pretty much like a geek.
Then I met J.D. Zinky, who was using a top-of-the-line $1,000 waterproof metal detector to search the shallows for booty. A 51-year-old software consultant, J.D. detects metal as a hobby. I asked him, "So, how do you get around this geek thing? I mean, we do look kind of goofy out here."
He said basically, there's no way around the geek factor when it comes to using a metal detector. Face it, you're out in public hunting for expensive items that other people lost. It's kind of mercenary. But you don't feel so bad after you've found your first diamond ring. And besides, it's not all profiting from other people's misfortune. Sometimes you do something worthwhile.
Once, while metal detecting in Florida, J.D. saved a kid from drowning. Another time, a guy lost his engagement ring in the sand. His fiancee asked J.D. to look for it. J.D. found it and the lady was really happy. J.D. didn't say whether the guy was really happy.
J.D. told me the best places to search and how to rock the sensor back and forth over the sand. In a few minutes, I was metal detecting up a storm. And frankly, I didn't care what anyone thought of me.
J.D. had filled my head with visions of treasure. He's found 120 rings, one made of gold with a diamond worth $3,000. And he's found lots of money and a watch or two.
After an hour of pacing up and down the beach, I had found 27 cents (a quarter and two pennies), two bobby pins, a pull tab and some unidentifiable rusted metal thingy. I was hooked.
I decided I'd get the whole geek rig: the headphones, the heavy-duty wire basket on a long pole and the reef booties. My next time out, I'd head right into the heart of metal-detecting heaven: Waikiki Beach. What did I care if people stared at me? At the rate I was going, my metal detector will have paid for itself in a year or so. And one day, my little sweetie will be proud of her old man again. Maybe even before she goes to college.
Alo-Ha! Friday compiles odd bits of news from Hawaii
and the world to get your weekend off to an entertaining start.
Charles Memminger also writes Honolulu Lite Mondays,
Wednesdays and Sundays. Send ideas to him at the
Honolulu Star-Bulletin, 500 Ala Moana Blvd., Suite 7-210,
Honolulu 96813, phone 235-6490 or e-mail cmemminger@starbulletin.com.
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