Friday, April 25, 2008

Dino Dig

I used to want to be a paleontologist when I was a kid. What could be cooler than digging up dinosaurs, the most vicious, terrifying and ostensibly awesome animals in the history of the world? So imagine my surprise this past Christmas when my sister gave me a chance to live that dream.


"What fun!" I thought to myself. "My very own fossil to unearth!" My concern was immediately raised, however, by the size and weight of the package. I was hoping for something really cool, like a skull, or maybe even a full dinosaur (a small one, of course; I wouldn't ask for anything bigger than those things that spit black stuff and have an umbrella for a neck). Still, I thought, it could be small AND cool at the same time, like a tooth or a claw.


The contents of the box did little to assuage my concern. First off, I find no instructions. My first foray into paleontology and I'm left to find my own way. Second, the rock that contained the fossil was more reminiscent of a brick than an actual rock. It would be a stroke of unbelievable luck if there were a complete fossil in there. But hey, I'm no geologist, and there's no telling what they could do with x-rays or some other tool that would allow one to see through a rock. So I continue to give the Dino Dig team the benefit of the doubt. That is, until I notice the tools with which I'm supposed to excavate my historic treasure.


As I said, I'm not a geologist, but I don't think it takes one to know that it's a tall order to try and break apart a rock with a pencil and a paintbrush. What were they thinking? Why not give me at least one metal tool? Then again, I'm sure they have a system, and I doubt that any product reaches the market without some level of testing, so, once more, I set aside my concern and set up my workspace.


Once unwrapped, the "rock" actually seems to be plaster. Suddenly, it all begins to make sense. Light package, light tools, perfect cut. What I had been unwilling to concede became undeniable - I'm not digging up a fossil. I'm RE-digging up a fossil. As disappointment sets in, I quickly and easily dismiss it. After all, I'm still getting a fossil, right? So I get to work.


Once again, I'm discouraged. I know paleontology is a delicate science, and I definitely don't want to damage my only shot at getting a real fossil. But nearly 10 minutes of work netted very little progress. Still, the thought of the prize to come was enough motivation to press on.


After working diligently for another 10 to 15 minutes, I finally hit paydirt. This is it! The first glimpse of my fossil! My mind begins to race - what could it be?


It looks very smooth for something that could be several million years old. Intrigued, I press on.


As more of my fossil is revealed, I begin to suspect that, like the "rock" at which I'm chiseling away, I may not be dealing with a real fossil. Fossils aren't this smooth. But, seeing as how I've already invested close to 45 minutes into this project, I may as well finish the job.


With more of the "fossil" uncovered, I come to yet another realization - I'm digging from the bottom side. So much effort, so much time spent, and the stupid thing is upside down. Now I've had it. If Dino Dig wasn't going to give me instructions or a real set of tools to work with, I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. It was time to call in the big guns.


Well, well, Dino Dig. We'll see who gets the last laugh. I'm getting that thing out of there, come hell or high water or a broken fossil.


Progress at last! Now to sort through the rubble and find my fossil.


Much to my chagrin, the bogus fossil turned out to be hollow. The force of the blow that separated the fake rock apparently also shattered its contents.


After pulling my broken fossil from the wreckage, I begin to recognize just how much of a raw deal Dino Dig is. A hollow, clay replica of a fossil lodged in a slab of plaster that you dig out with a stick. What fun. May as well piece it together.


So there it is. I guess I got the skull I was hoping for... sort of. I think I should write a letter.