Treasure

When I was young I read a fable about a farmer who was dying.  He told his sons, “I have a treasure buried on my land,” but didn’t tell them where it was. After his death, they dug up every inch of the land to find the treasure, but found nothing.  But their digging left the land in such good shape that it produced big crops, and they made a fortune after all.  That father understood motivation!

I’ve always been interested in gold rushes.  I was reading Pierre Berton’s book about the Klondike gold rush, and there was one fact I noticed.  Thousands of prospectors went there, and the total amount of money they invested in their adventure—travel expenses and food supplies and equipment—was even greater than the value of all the gold the place produced! (That gives you an idea of the odds they faced.) People made fortunes without going there, just by selling them supplies.  There’s a country song that goes “All the gold in California is in a bank in the middle of Beverley Hills, in somebody else’s name.”

I read that pirates burying treasure is a cliche, like walking the plank.  Captain Kidd’s the only pirate known to have buried his treasure.  With most pirates, if they made a big score they’d spend it as soon as they could because they didn’t know how long they’d live to enjoy it.

When I was young, we had a treasure for the eyes.  Every fall we’d get the Christmas catalogues from Eaton’s and Simpson Sears.  It was fun to look through them and feast our eyes on the wares, especially the toys and candy. (The clothes didn’t interest me much.) Indeed, I mention this because just the other night I was dreaming about the catalogues’ candy pages!

Yet it didn’t occur to us to want the stuff bought for us.  My parents didn’t raise materialist kids!  In fact, when they asked me what I wanted for Christmas I could rarely think of anything in particular…

Anyone remember the Buried Treasure treat?  It was a cone-shaped combination of ice milk and sherbet that would have a little figure inside that would appear once you finished it, a bit like a Kinder toy or a Crackerjack prize.