I suggested a new location to my hunt buddy "Bill", a public park on a beach that neither of us had ever trod before. When we got there, Bill started hunting immediately, right in front of the park. I on the other hand, went striding down the beach to hunt behind a luxury hotel about 200 yards south.
My natural inclination and habit was to swing the coil over the wet sand on my way there. But I checked my inclination and habit, smothered my fear that I might be bypassing a gold ring, and shouldered my detector, dedicating myself to my goal of finding the "Big One"; the Big One being a quality ring with a big expensive stone, that would much more likely be found behind a luxury hotel, than behind the local park, in theory. I felt proud that I had the discipline to follow my dream.
Indeed, I felt I had taken a march on poor old Bill, so doggedly searching without any analysis or strategy, the first available bit of beach he encountered. Even my beagle, Dumbo, is far more selective and thoughtful in her choice of where we go for walks, often insisting on rapidly trotting to some distant point that she finds of greatest interest to her. Poor Bill, I thought, he is a mere primitive, a dull fellow, who relies for his modest finds entirely on mindless persistence, physical strength and endurance.
The beach between the park and the hotel was fronted by several large condominiums. Bill worked his way south past each condo, thoroughly hunting the same stretch of wet sand, and occasionally a little of the water, over which I had flown in my haste to reach the hotel as quickly as possible. In the meantime, I hunted the water behind the hotel, determined to cover as much of it as I could before Bill inevitably arrived to horn in on my spot.
I do not know whether he crowds me because he is naturally a herd animal, or because he depends on me to do his thinking for him, or because he thinks I'm his Lucky Charm. Anyway, there I was, feeling quite frustrated by the luxury hotel's beach, having found only garbage and maybe a few clad. And here comes Bill, swinging his detector like a Terminator, thoroughly covering ground at an incredible pace only a machine could maintain. I was sure he would miss 50% of the targets at that speed, and I had little reason to fear he would find anything good.
He got up to within 10 yards of me, stopped, posed like a model with his hand stretched out on his leg. I was sort of worried about him, that was unnatural. He just kept looking at me with a horrible grin. I notice his fingers were waving up and down on his leg like a sea fan. I came closer and then I saw two gold bands on his fingers that I'd never seen there before.
"You went right over these, dude!" He cried out.
Oh...the horror! The horror...
My natural inclination and habit was to swing the coil over the wet sand on my way there. But I checked my inclination and habit, smothered my fear that I might be bypassing a gold ring, and shouldered my detector, dedicating myself to my goal of finding the "Big One"; the Big One being a quality ring with a big expensive stone, that would much more likely be found behind a luxury hotel, than behind the local park, in theory. I felt proud that I had the discipline to follow my dream.
Indeed, I felt I had taken a march on poor old Bill, so doggedly searching without any analysis or strategy, the first available bit of beach he encountered. Even my beagle, Dumbo, is far more selective and thoughtful in her choice of where we go for walks, often insisting on rapidly trotting to some distant point that she finds of greatest interest to her. Poor Bill, I thought, he is a mere primitive, a dull fellow, who relies for his modest finds entirely on mindless persistence, physical strength and endurance.
The beach between the park and the hotel was fronted by several large condominiums. Bill worked his way south past each condo, thoroughly hunting the same stretch of wet sand, and occasionally a little of the water, over which I had flown in my haste to reach the hotel as quickly as possible. In the meantime, I hunted the water behind the hotel, determined to cover as much of it as I could before Bill inevitably arrived to horn in on my spot.
I do not know whether he crowds me because he is naturally a herd animal, or because he depends on me to do his thinking for him, or because he thinks I'm his Lucky Charm. Anyway, there I was, feeling quite frustrated by the luxury hotel's beach, having found only garbage and maybe a few clad. And here comes Bill, swinging his detector like a Terminator, thoroughly covering ground at an incredible pace only a machine could maintain. I was sure he would miss 50% of the targets at that speed, and I had little reason to fear he would find anything good.
He got up to within 10 yards of me, stopped, posed like a model with his hand stretched out on his leg. I was sort of worried about him, that was unnatural. He just kept looking at me with a horrible grin. I notice his fingers were waving up and down on his leg like a sea fan. I came closer and then I saw two gold bands on his fingers that I'd never seen there before.
"You went right over these, dude!" He cried out.
Oh...the horror! The horror...
congrats to him 
GL HH
