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If you drop a penny, they will find it
New and improved metal detectors turn men into monsters
By Rory Sazama
Of the most idiosyncratic of species that inhabit the parks in the Milwaukee area, the mysterious and foreboding creature that lurches about the picnic areas wielding a cumbersome metal detector artificially attached to its hands has both fascinated and abhorred park patrons for over several decades.
Exactly who or what are these bizarre creatures that rummage about the public domains of our fair city? The more pressing question is what in the name of all things holy do they hope to find among a seemingly unending ocean of half-eaten chicken carcasses, watermelon scraps covered in maggot eggs and empty bottles of low-end malt liquor? The answer is riches beyond the imagination of rational human conception.
The fascinating and nomadic half-cyborg / half-man searches the parks in search of rare alloys and precious metals through the use of highly sophisticated sonar equipment, a shovel and a 300-pound magnet attached to a generator packing a whopping 6,000 volts. Many are also equipped with a long-range laser cannon.
They are the modern day cyborg-vagabonds with an insatiable lust for malleable substances that oftentimes drives them to the point of insanity. Shying away from the warm and gentle embrace of humanity, the metal detector-borgs will avoid all forms of conversation and social interaction unless backed into either a corner filled with loose wiring attached to a massive power source or a large body of water.
Many also fear the ravenous and bloodthirsty shark.
In order to further analyze this creature, I plotted to ensnare one for observation. Unable to borrow a modest sized car to conceal several feet below the surface of our earth and use as "the bait," I instead took my change bucket from home and bicycled to the park last week.
Carefully spreading handfuls of change of various denominations about the general vicinity of a deeply wooded area, I waited with anxious anticipation and doe-eyed wonder for the metal detectors to appear.
Upon hearing the cybernetic churning of mechanical legs pulsating towards my direction precipitated by a greenish cloud bursting with explosive lightning bolts, the first specimen appeared.
The intoxicating hum of electricity pierced through the air, having the most negative effect upon the stray dogs that call this park their home. Their lonely howls touched upon my gentle ears, bringing a soft and free-flowing tear to my cheek. Damn this cruel, cruel world!
I watched as the metal detector combed through the area, moving ever closer to the picnic table I was seated at. Occasionally catching the near-deafening sonar pulse of a ductile substance beneath his feet, he would pick up a penny or two at a time, relishing the act of slowly bending over to pick up a completely worthless piece of our monetary system.
I nervously gripped my five-gallon drum of water, waiting for the right moment to temporarily incapacitate the creature. He approached within five feet of my table. I was ready.
It was all systems go, do-or-die time, it was like the seconds before a mediocre metal band hits the stage at a mid-sized fair in an overtly rural part of the state and the electricity in the air can be gashed with a chainsaw ("Are you ready to rock 'n' roll tonight Kenosha! How many of you people like to Rock 'N' Roll!"). I was ready to ensnare my first metal detector.
But then, a most peculiar of event transpired. The weather-beaten old half man/half cyborg gazed upon me and my bucket of water with weary eyes and said this to me in the most humble and robotic of voices, "Please do not render me into a state of temporary electrocution."
We metal detectors have a bad reputation. I tried model railroading, kite flying and UFO investigation but there was just no rush, no excitement in any of that. So I cut off my arms and attached these cybernetic implants, and ordered the metal detector kit online. It buys my drinks at the end of the day and it“s a lot of fun to sift through the earth in search of buried treasure.
Aren't we all really just searching for a "something" just below the surface, something just slightly out of reach? Haven't you ever been willing to cut off your arms to make something amazing happen for yourself?" He was right. I did in fact almost cut off my arms to save a busload of orphaned children from impending doom last week.
Thus we sat at the picnic table and shared a bottle of grape Maddog, reflecting on the similarities between the cyborg metal detector people and the regular John and Jane Does who inhabit this lonely earth.
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