Commentary: Digging up a learning moment

Time Traveler: A good part of what I have learned about living and life in general I learned while selling vacuum cleaners door to door. I know I've touched on this subject before, but I'm an old man, and as I am so afflicted, I tend to forget what I've said before. So give me a break. I am somewhat saddened by the fact the door-to-door peddler has largely passed into history. Gone is the face-to-face, personal contact of two human beings conducting business at the door, replaced by algorithms and robo calls. People are busy, don't want to be bothered and besides, they are afraid to answer the door. The old-timers who taught me the trade started selling door to door near the end of World War II or shortly thereafter. Of course, they had many advantages: People wanted to buy stuff, and there wasn't much television and non-stop entertainment. So a door-to-door salesman knocking at the door was not an unwelcome sight. It provided a break in the day and a little entertainment. But they had a disadvantage as well. Production hadn't resumed after the war effort so they carried a demonstrator model, took a down payment and made a promise to deliver one after the company started producing again. That's a tough sale. Those old boys knew more about human nature than a room full of psychology professors. They could, as they used to say, "Talk a starving dog square down off a meat wagon." By the time I came along, things had changed. I had the advantage of learning about human behavior from these old-timers, but people had started letting their brains get sucked out through their eyeballs watching television. To survive, I had to be a hell of a lot more entertaining than I Spy, Star Trek, Get Smart or whatever was on TV. And I was. And for a dozen or more years, I learned stuff and even though it's been more than 40 years since I sold my last dirt sucker, I still use some of that stuff. For example, one day I was working some little town on the high desert of California or Nevada, I don't remember which. Walking down the road on the outskirts, I noticed an old house that might have been nice at one time, but no more. It hadn't been painted in a long time, the front and side yards were unkempt and the walkway cracked. But the thing that caught my eye was an old rusted pug mill on its side and other bits and pieces of mining equipment. In my very early years, I worked at several mines so I knew what I was looking at. More out of curiosity than expecting to make a sale, I decided to knock on the door. On the front porch was a 1950s-era chrome dinette table with one chair. Under the table was a dog bed and hanging on a nail over the table was a dog collar with a tag that read, "Jake." I figured Jake had chased his last rabbit. I knocked on the screen and sure enough, Jake didn't come to the door and bark. An old man came to the door wearing bib overalls. He had a full head of white hair parted in the middle, and barbered in the style of the 1930s. His face spoke of many years toil in the sun. I told him what I was up to and he said, "Hell yes, boy, come on in." I didn't even bring in my equipment. No point. And anyway, the old man was more interested in conversation than vacuums. His house was what one would expect for an old prospector's place – an old gold scale and a few Louis L'Amour westerns on his coffee table and dust everywhere. On his fireplace mantle, along with the dust and rock samples, was a vase with red plastic roses. A framed picture gave evidence of some previous female influence, although neither had been dusted or de-cobwebbed in some time. Anyway, he talked and I learned. He showed me how to make a divining rod using two metal clothes hangers, two pill bottles and four corks. It could be used to find water, gold, iron or whatever was being looked for. We went out in his back yard and he let me use it and, by golly, I found two soup cans and a stove lid right off. When we came back inside, the old man got very excited and said, "Let me show you something, boy." He raked off all the rock samples, empty plates and whatever else was on his kitchen table and out of a cupboard he grabbed a thick stack of what looked to be mining journals and maps. He slapped them down on the table, throwing dust everywhere. Opening a map, he pointed a stubby finger on the map. "See that X, boy? There's $50,000 dollars right there in the Superstition Mountains less than six inches from the surface." For the next hour, he showed me place after place that a fortune could be found. As I walked away, I wondered, "If the old coot knows where all this gold is buried, then why the hell not go dig it up?" I was young, but I finally figured it out. If the old man had gone to these places, dug down and found nothing, he wouldn't have the gold but, more importantly, he wouldn't have the dream either. So what did I learn from this old man? Sometimes, our dreams are better than reality. For more on the Time Traveler, tune into our Newcastle Television Show on AM-950 and FM-104.5 KAHI radio at noon each Saturday or listen online at www.kahi.com. And to comment, call 530-320-6441.