Moskel Consulting & Marketing

Direct Response Copywriting Solutions.

Prospecting for Silver: Marketing Treasures Hidden in Plain Sight.

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scales_Moskel_Jesse

 

As a young boy, I went West with my father where we found ourselves
in a touristy miner town with a name like “Muddy Gulch” or
“Bad-Luck Creek.”

We wandered through the nick-knacks, feeling like we were at a
flea market: or a carnival. Popcorn and rides.

Toward the end of the avenue, something caught my eye, a lonesome
vendor with a sign which read:

“One Ounce of Silver, $1.”

Well, since I was already somewhat enamored with the idea of
finding riches in a creek bed with a pan and some luck, it seemed
only right to spend my dollar here (Dad had given me one, “to buy
anything I wanted”).

Looking him over, I confess: I admired the man’s attire.

He was wearing a cowboy hat, and a western shirt with silver
snaps instead of buttons. His boots were well-worn, and he had
chaps on. A horse nearby, I confirmed, was “Old Smoke,” the
miner’s “Gas-free Chevrolet,” he told us with a long laugh.

When I pulled out that crisp dollar bill, Chuck the Miner became
all business. “One ounce of the finest quality silver, coming
right up, young man!”

I realized he was talking to me, and being
addressed as if I were spending a million dollars with him
excited me to the prospect of getting my own bit of
“prospecting.”

From a saddlebag off Old Smoke’s own back, Chuck produced a
velvety purple bag, tied with a fine bit of gold (now I know this
is what Crown Royal comes in). From under the counter, came an
ancient, gold-trimmed scale: the type which required a weight on
one side.

Chuck took his time and set everything up, explaining the system
to me as he went. “Here’s the 1 ounce weight,” he said, as he put
it in my hand. “Get a feel for that weight. It’s equivalent to 28
grams, which is what you’re about to own!”

I was getting excited.

Chuck directed me to place the weight on
either side of the scale. I did, and, like a see-saw with no one
on the other side, it dropped to the table. Our eyes met, and he
said “now. Watch this!”

Untying the bag, he slipped out a bag of silver dust.

This was, Chuck said, the result of many hours of sifting silver
from the silt and dirt in the creek way up on top of the
mountain.

He began to pour the silver bits onto the empty side of the scale
and I watched my own mountain of silver begin to grow.

Chuck next showed me how the weight of the silver would offset
the one ounce weight until it was equal to the 28 gram mark on
each side. I could see the silver, pouring, and slowly, surely
the scale rose toward the equal mark.

When it got close, Chuck read out the numbers: “24 grams, 25, 26,
27, 28…” then, rather than stop, he kept counting: “29, 30, 31,
32..aaaaaand” with a flourishing gesture of goodwill, he tipped
the entire bag of silver into the tray, bringing the count to a
close: “33, 34, 35, 36!”

My eyes were as big as the miner’s tins used to get the silver!

Chuck had given me 8 grams of silver dust more than we bargained
for. I was more excited now, than I had been at the beginning. He
had gone way past his agreement, and given me so much value I
then wanted him to hurry up and bag the silver and hand it over
before he changed his mind.

After he had put my silver in a plastic bag, he produced a small
version of the velvet bag, saying, “I like you son.. I’m going to
give you a free bag to keep this money in. Normally, I charge .25
for this, but today it’s yours free!”