Event of the Month

Maybe What It Takes to Find the Dutchman's Lost Gold Is a Helpful Wife

Have you ever had one of those mornings when you wake up and the sun seems brighter, the air smells fresher, and colors are much more vibrant? That's the way this morning was for me. I went to breakfast full of enthusiasm, knowing all was right with the world.

"I now know how I'm going to make my fortune," I told my wife.

"For a man in his late 50s that's commendable," she said. Well, almost all was right with the world.

I didn't let her negativity affect me. "I'm going to find the Lost Dutchman's Gold Mine," I announced.

"I see," she said, somewhat patronizingly as she scraped the black crust from some burnt toast. "And where exactly is this Lost Dutchman's Mine?"

She was trying to trick me, but I wouldn't fall for it. "Well, no one knows exactly where it is, otherwise it wouldn't be lost, would it? But it's somewhere in the Superstition Mountains."

"And so are the bones of a lot of the people who tried to find it."

"That's all right," I said. "Less competition."

"People can die from looking for lost treasures," she said. I defended my position, though. "Greed killed those people. They figured the world owed them a living. I'm notthat greedy. I figure just Arizona does."

"Where'd you get this idea?" she asked as two more burnt pieces of bread popped up.

"I watched a documentary last night about this lost gold mine, and all during the show I kept hearing, 'You're the man who's going to find it. You're the man who's going to find it.' It was like the Dutchman was talking to me."

My wife was unimpressed. "All during his life he never talked. Now that he's dead, he has a chat with you?"

"Well, he didn't actually talk to me," I said. "I just know that if I go looking for the mine, I'll find it. I've always considered myself lucky. I married you, didn't I?" A little soft soap, 1 fig-ured, wouldn't hurt.

My wife said, "I've sometimes considered myself un-lucky for the same reason."

Okay, I thought, try another tack.

"Look, honey," I said, "this gold mine is just sitting out there, and if I can find it we'll be rich. You'll have a maid to do the dishes. We'll travel everywhere by chauffeur-driven limousine. I'll even get you a toaster that works."

"Which brings up an inter-esting point. How much is this going to cost?"

I felt I almost had her convinced. "Not much. Maybe a few supplies, that's all."

She said, "You're going to need at least one other jackass."

Apparently I hadn't convinced her.

She said, "Suppose you do find this gold mine. You don't know anything about gold."

"That's true," I admitted. "But I've always been fond of it."

"Do you know how to spot gold in the ground?"

"No."

"Do you know how to mine it, load it in carts, and bring it to the surface?"

"No, not really."

"Do you know how to extract the gold and refine it?"

"No."

"Do you know that no rich gold deposits have ever been found in the Superstition Mountains, and geologists, naturalists, and engineers all agree that it's an unlikely location for gold?"

"C'mon. What do they know?"

"You're determined to try this, aren't you?" she asked.

"Honey, it's a dream," I said. "A fantasy. It's a gamble, sure, but every once in a while a man has to chase a rainbow."

"Go chase your rainbow," she said. "But try to keep the costs down. We can't afford to waste money."

"That's my girl." I kissed her and rushed to get dressed. I was eager to get under way. I was going to be the man to find the legendary Lost Dutch-man's Gold Mine.

After I washed and dressed, I was going to go shopping for a few things I'd need. "Honey, where are my tennis shoes?"

"In the family room where you took them off," she answered. They were there.

"Have you seen my hat?"

"It's in the hall closet," she answered patiently.

"My jacket?"

"It's here in the kitchen, over the back of the chair."

"Thanks," I said, and kissed her and rushed out the door.

I came back in. Without my even asking, she said, "Your car keys are on the credenza in the foyer."

I picked them up and started out the door again. Before I left, though, I heard my wife mutter to herself, "Rest in peace, Dutchman. Your secret is safe."