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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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And that guy I've been following on Facebook, the guy with the videos of him chiselling out rubies, sapphires, smoky-quartz pockets, spessartine garnets, he's done for the season, and has put out his plea for "Need money for gas and food" on Facebook.
Bloody Hell. How does this happen? I mean, with me, sure, but I'm rarely digging up anything that good, but him? HIM?
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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And I have this neighbor, I run in to her all the time when stepping out for a cigarette.
A proper muppet.
In appearance, tall, slender, dressing to great advantage, she has a certain style. "Pretty Woman" if you know what I mean. It becomes her.
But she's not well. On disability of some sort, she claims to have a heart palpitation, a weakness, condition.
I've seen her around with an older man, balding, sunglasses, reminds me of Hunter S. Thompson.
I ask her about him. She denies knowing him. I point out that I've run into them together in a few places, at the mall, bus stop, out behind the building. She corrects me, I saw a man near to her who looks like Hunter S. Thompson but she doesn't know who he is.
She's a muppet. She sits, desponding, for hours on end reading Rumi, the Sufi Poet. She has a dozen editions, different translations. She has loud arguments on the phone, cursing, swearing, walking up and down, waving her arms, she gets incredibly animated, her arms thrust out in front of her, 90 degrees, and then she runs up to them, bobbing up and down like a muppet, her eyes wide, eyeballs like ping-pong balls looking madly off in all directions, hair flying everywhere. I said she has these arguments while on the phone, but often she doesn't have a phone in her hand, these arguments, they're a rehearsal for when she picks up the phone. If she sees you nearby she'll abruptly stop, ask you for a cigarette or to push-start her car, normalcy resumes, you've interrupted her inner monologue.
Her car, apparently it's the source of a lot of her problems, according to the neighbours (a vituperative group of old ladies) she's behind on her car payments, hence she's always looking for a boost or to move it, she's afraid of it being repossessed.
Anyways, a proper character, and a good reason to start taking my cigarettes a lot further from my building...
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
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Social media, following a favourite prospector, he posts good shit. Gemmy spessartine garnets, rubies, etc, etc, he's off in the high country living the dream...
Only, of course, if you read between the lines he's not, I mean, he is, but his perspective is a little off...
His posts, up and down, now he's on some tirade about a claim he sold, feels he's due some residuals, he should be rich, should never have sold it (true, true, but he needed the money and didn't want to do the work), the residuals he's calculating based off of a popular YouTuber Channel wherein a particular YouTube Celebrity ("") claims to have extracted a million dollars worth of material from a claim he sold.
He's like this, I've heard rumours, his own private Idaho, his non-prospecting posts are a little "weird" for want of better word, partnering with him - in any capacity - is impossible, he's perfectly suited to the finding of treasure and little else.
The treasure, "1 Million Dollars worth of ..." doesn't speak to the raw material, it's click-bait, bollocks, every little bit of the find needs to be cabbed, polished, faceted, turned into money, which is in itself no small expense, no small investment of time, Our Favourite Prospector doesn't get that, then there's the cost of recovery, helicopters, men to be paid, inventory to be held, this claim, like most claims, is utterly worthless, a liability even, if you don't do the work...
Anyways, favourite prospector is melting down all over Social Media about how he's been taken advantage of, an unsympathetic point of view for an adult, but still I have to follow him, if only to live the dream vicariously...
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And, out with the son & his girlfriend on Sunday Night, the Yellow Deli, his girlfriend, she's properly impressed, gathers every leaflet...
They're getting the party crowd, although I don't know where the party was, a drunk, loud girl, her muscular and apologetic boyfriend, popping in, spending stupid time and money badgering the poor disciple, my Son's girlfriend laughing, she just noticed that the server is wearing flip-flops...
***
Leaving the cafe, there's a rave crowd assembled on the patio, clearly we missed an event, but where? And one of the older ravers, I recognize him from the parties, he's looking at me, pointing - "St. Germain!!! It's the Immortal St. Germain".
I'm not sure he's pointing at me, laugh it off, then do my research, of course, he's referring to the Count of St. Germain, me, and I'm impressed that he's that well read.
Anyways, the Count of St. Germain, if you don't know, is one of those enigmatic historical figures of whom much has been written but little (relatively) is known. On that count I get it. The rest, well...
Link: Wiki on the Count of St. Germain
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When I was off having my rocks "assayed", or - for better description, confirmed, Geo #1 brought out a beautiful sapphire specimen, probably 5 pounds, perfectly shaped. A gift from the ... "XYZ" of prospectors out here in the West Koots.
My nemesis, after a fashion, we've never met but he's perpetually proving my every theory in my absence.
And, all summer long, he's out doors, at elevation, digging up great shit.
This sapphire, I know the location, it's not a "gem" quality specimen, but perfect in shape and damn, I want one. Or two. I want a few. But the area's claimed up, and - not gonna be that guy. There are more, and better, out there.
Anyways, he's a guy you'd know about only if you were a prospector. He's not one of those celebrity prospectors that populate YouTube. He's the guy too busy finding shit to streamcast it to the world.
***
Those celebrity prospectors, in BC a couple come to mind. The first, charming, charismatic, a distinct signature "How-Do-You-Do" to his videos, his videos, more about exploring established claims and locations to find whatever it is that's already proven to be there. And his revenue, it's largely based upon the YouTube and Celebrity factor. He does pretty well I'm sure.
The other, they're "friends" in that YouTube/Influencer sort of way, less charismatic, more a "do the job" type of guy, also has a following, but not nearly as large. I like him better. More "Show" less "Tell".
But this guy, so far as I can tell, no following, I'd searched for him before, found a bit on him, not a lot, we've never met but...
He's my Nemesis.
And tonight, Facebook, my gem digging recommendations, and he's there, and so - fuck, why not, I know him, of him, 1 degree of separation, and I follow.
And, damn, for all my questing he's finding. Rubies, obvious, big, in matrix. Iolite, gem quality, perfect blue, chunks hundreds of carats large. Smoky Quartz. He's in the subalpine, I know where, a few hours from here, know where, not specifically, but general enough, and fuck he's finding it all. He's so ahead of the curve that most of his findings aren't even in the government databases yet.
He's my nemesis. And he's doing it right, the sub-alpine terrains, high altitudes, peaks, helicopter & pack-ins, all this is available at sea (or lake) level, but the rocks aren't exposed, and so it's a different game. But he's got game and he's finding the best shit. This year will have been his best ever, camped at 10, 000 feet, finding, finding, scintillating garnets in schist, foot-long smokey quartz crystals, iolites, rubies...
Damn.
Next year, I'll have the jeep, the budget, the means up the mountain, and I don't have to go far, I recognize all the rocks, they're here as well, I need only dig deeper, smarter, harder, faster...but damn, this guy's my nemesis, not nemesis, the arms to every thought I've ever had and it's time I became my own agent and begun digging in as intelligent a fashion...