Several weeks ago, I went metal detecting on my grandmother’s farm. I finally took the plunge on buying a detector because I didn’t want to miss that opportunity, and I knew that if only I could decode the legal rules around the hobby, it’s something I would love. Also, Uncle Sam basically paid for it, thanks to the stimulus.
One of my finds while on the farm was a tiny metal tube that appears to have been deliberately smashed. When I showed my grandmother, she said, “Oh, that’s old!”, though she didn’t know what it might be. When your grandma whose in her 80s says, “That’s old”, you KNOW it’s old.
I have probably put in over 8 hours of internet research trying to figure this thing out, but I can’t find anything. Medicine usually came in glass before it came in plastic. Certain types of pills such as Tums came in metal tubes like this but with a removable cap, and were usually longer. Oil paints and toothpaste came in tubes that were crimped at the end so they could be rolled, whereas this one is cylindrical at the bottom. Oil cans were usually much larger and usually somewhat oblong. Early aerosol cans have a metal lip on the bottom that supports the can. Literally the only true similarity I’ve seen has been in the base, the style of which I have thus far only seen once on an old metal gun powder container I found online, but it must have been five times the size of my tube.
Adding to the mystery has been my spotting of an extremely faded number on the bottom, which I accidentally wore down trying to “clean”. Turns out this was printed on top of the paint, and even that can wear off. But it’s printed in reverse! And I’m no typography expert, but it looks like late 1800s, early 1900s.
While this is driving me crazy, there’s also a thrill to the hunt. Almost a decade ago, I ventured to a valley deep in the Rockies where an old truck remains. Only later did I realize, in the pictures I had taken, that an actual manufacturing date had been printed on the engine block. After 6 hours of research, I discovered that the truck was a 1928 Packard six-cylinder truck. The mystery was solved! I want that excitement again.
And this has all stirred something deep inside me. Why is this not my job? Why am I not in history, or archaeology, or antiques? I don’t have a voluminous knowledge of these things by any means, but I sure love it. I’m starting to wonder if I should re-learn basic chemistry, and research the history of metal usage for manufactured goods. Wouldn’t it be fun to build a database tracking the different patents, styles, manufacturers, compositions, and appearances of households good through the ages?
Well for one, there’s the money. Those things don’t often pay a lot, and those that do can be sporadic. Sometimes, my interests just change, too. What I’m doing now, earning a lot and saving a lot, is potentially my path out of the rat race. When you escape the rat race, you can study whatever you want. But for now, it requires me to be earning a lot. Also, of course, I want to live overseas for a time.
But even more interesting than that is this: history, archaeology, and antiques…don’t feel meaningful. How are they helping the world? How are they helping anybody?
But isn’t it sheer hubris to assume that your work is so great and the world needs you so much that you must go and do something for them, as if you owed them your life? It’s like people on the news who “give back” to the “community”, and you’re like, “Give back? Give back what? What did they take?” What if it’s all just striving for brownie points among your fellow humans? Could that be it?
Knowing old junk. It seems so worthless in the eyes of the world. Even in my own eyes – I don’t like owning junk! So why am I so fascinated by it? It draws me in. Poking around the ruins. Wondering what was, what may be, and how my own life, someday to be a dash on just another tombstone, fits in to the big picture. But there’s a sweetness to imagine life doing something that really brings you joy, whether that matters to anybody else or not.
Of course, life doesn’t have to all be one thing or another. And I can’t imaging thinking I’m making a difference “raising awareness”, aka telling people they’re wrong and I’m right and expecting payment for this. You’re better off starting a business and creating jobs, and most jobs we like to think of as worthless, too! You have your job and then also your hobbies. I hope one day to make my hobbies my job.
Does your job make a difference? I don’t know. Does it need to?