GOLD RUSH

I think it's the Tea Partiers who've been driving the price of gold up -- it's been hitting record highs, because people seem to think it's the only stable currency in a time of economic uncertainty. So after the torrential rains brought heavy roof leaks and the certainty of a big repair bill, the idea that had been slopping around in the back of my head for a while came to the front: gather up the old gold jewelry, and take it to 47th Street. So we did.

First came the culling, which had its own emotional baggage. I had a bunch of 18 carat gold jewelry my father had given me years ago when he lived in the middle east -- it had nothing to do with my taste, and I'd never actually worn it. Also, I have a very problematic relationship with my father. Still, it's strange to give things away that people have given you -- feels very final, like making a decision on a break-up: it's a very definite statement about the impossibility of reconciliation.

Static had rings and chains from family and exes -- a motley assortment, some with small stones. There's always a story attached to jewelry, even when you don't really know what the story is because everyone's dead and gone -- so, more baggage.

Anyway, we excluded anything we felt queasy about, and were pretty clear that since we didn't desperately need to sell things just to pay the rent (interesting, because both of us have been in that position at various times in our lives), we could leave if we weren't happy. The 47th Street website suggests getting three price estimates at various places before deciding, so that's what we planned to do.

The first thing we weren't prepared for the was the shark-like feeding frenzy -- step onto 47th Street and you're instantly mobbed with people begging you to sell them gold -- guys rush up to you and try to pull you into shops and into booths, and they press cards into your hand. "Girls! Girls! over here! we buy!" It's very disconcerting. Apparently, everyone is responding to the gold rush by emptying out their jewelry boxes, and everywhere there were people like us doing the same thing -- tipping out little bags full of rings and chains and lockets. How many people were desperate, and how many were just cashing in? It had the chaotic, scary feel of Weimar Berlin - as if the whole economic structure were about to come crashing down.

We went first to a booth in one of the exchanges, and I chose one with a woman: she looked at the little pile, sorted it, weighed it quickly, and gave an estimate of $1800; she told us she'd have to test it if we chose to sell it. So then we went to a storefront, and went through the routine again -- it was a little calmer, because the store was quiet and protected from the mobs of hawkers outside. This time the storekeeper said he'd test it right away -- and I finally found out what "passing the acid test" means: he scraped each piece on a lead sheet, then dropped acid on it. He had different bottles for 18 carat, 14 carat, etc. If the gold disappeared under the acid, it meant it was a lower carat. He pulled out a clipper and clipped the stones out of the rings -- it seemed painful, like a medical procedure: we both winced and looked away, and he smiled wryly. The stones were of no interest to him -- even the diamonds. Finally he gave us a price, all the while lecturing us about how careful he had to be and how little profit he would make. His price was better than the first dealer, and we decided to settle rather than going on. I had a little fun trying to bargain him up, but not much success -- I got an extra $50.

Then I felt we had to rush to the bank and put the cash in right away -- not that it was so much, but the freaky atmosphere of desperation created by the hawkers really got to me and made me edgy. There was a smell of craziness in the air.

Finally, we sat down on a bench and tried to analyze why we felt so disturbed by the whole thing.

First, there's the emotional element: people give you gold because they find its value to represent something meaningful about their relationship with you. I always thought I was immune to this -- I just don't wear expensive jewelry: it makes me anxious, as if it's just another thing to worry about and take care of, something I'll lose or have stolen and then get upset about. My commitment ring is a tattoo. The only emotional jewelry pieces I have (since my long dead mother's opal ring was stolen soon after she died) are two rings my mother made in a jewelry making class: they're pretty but crude, with cheap stones -- just practice rings, but they mean something to me. Still, when people give gold, they surely intend it to be meaningful, and to sell it feels like a violation of their intent. My family wasn't rich, and god knows it was a family with a very skewed ability to give gifts (when I was about eight, my mother gave me an umbrella for Christmas: by that age, I'd already tried to learn to tamp down expectation, in order to short-circuit the inevitable disappointment that came with her gifts -- she just didn't have the knack, let alone the money, to give emotionally satisfying presents). I'm awkward about gifts myself, and have a hard time accepting them, so to give away gold that's been given to me feels a little ugly.

Then there's another piece: the stupefying frenzy of this gold rush seems to augur very bad things. If gold is booming because so many people mistrust our economic institutions, their very mistrust could trigger the disaster they fear. And if they're right-wing fringe people, they'd probably be happy about that; we have an economic system that isn't based on the actual value of anything -- as has become especially clear in the past three years. Wall Streeters don't make money by buying and selling goods, but by betting on the ups and downs of the market, and they can make just as much by betting when it goes down -- none of it is based in the value of a substance, and to most of us it looks like a shell game. We've already seen how easy it can be to disrupt this, and we know who pays. Gold rush frenzy seems like the sign of a bubble about to burst, with a bunch of people trying to profit from the curve rather than trying to shore up the economy.

Finally, as Static says, gold comes with some of its own baggage, because it's always recycled, never thrown away. That necklace you're wearing could be melted down from a mixture of an 18th-century coin, a few teeth fillings from a concentration camp, and a Roman brooch. That's creepy. Gold is just a thing -- why is it more precious than anything else? Why have we imbued it with special value? But right now you can watch as people are calling it the savior of their own personal finances, and creating a gold rush out of nothing. Diamonds are no longer meaningful; gold is king.

Maybe it's a good thing that Octavia Butler died prematurely. She'd probably be freaked out watching her Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents coming true: gated communities, huge fights over water, company towns that control the entire lives of their workers, people hoarding gold .... I just hope she's more wrong than she seems right now.