The Price of Pricelessness

“America, ladies and gentlemen, is obsessed with shit.” What! I thought. Driving in the car, listening to the radio, I couldn’t believe the oldies radio host. Where is this guy going with this? I decided to listen on, in hopes of how I could gain a greater understanding of how Americans are using their state of relative freedom-I was hoping it hadn’t devolved to collecting shit.

                “At an auction recently, a fossilized piece of dinosaur dung sold for over a million dollars to a private collector. This specimen, which wasn’t supposed to be the most expensive item, took home the highest price by a large margin. A meteorite, which coming into the auction was billed the most valuable, took home a poultry sum of $700,000. This was much less than anticipated.”

                I changed the station, not being able to take much more. It’s amazing how something that is truly out of this world, made thousands of miles away, sells for less than a fossilized piece of dung. The world, or in this case America, has put a price on everything. The value system has been turned upside down.

                    Salmon Rushdie’s essay within East, West, “At the Auction of the Ruby Slippers”, deals with this mania that has accompanied collecting and auction. The item for auction, the slippers from the Wizard of Oz worn by Judie Garland, apparently have the magic to take someone home. Just three clicks.

                This very auction is a great example of how out of proportion auctioning and collecting has driven the price of seemingly useless items. Edible underpants and Ruby slippers lead this area. Additionally, items that are sacred are also for sale, such as the “Taj Mahal, the Statue of Liberty, the Alps, the Sphinx.” Nothing is sacred, nothing is priceless.

                Rushdie is also a little prophetic in the story in his lineup of characters bidding for the slippers. “The fundamentalist have openly stated that they are interested in buying the magic footwear only in order to burn it…’’ Compare this to the case of Barry Bonds and the homerun record-breaking ball, which many sought after to destroy. Ultimately it was purchased by Mark Eko, who promptly had a vote to determine the balls fate. The result-brand it with an asterisk and send the sucker to the hall of fame.

                Even more disheartening is that this society Rushdie writes of, which definitely mirrors our own, has an astronaut stranded on Mars, “with diminishing supplies of food and breathable air.” These slippers, if anything, can send the poor man home from a situation that is beyond repair. Hopelessly trapped, the man just sings songs that relate to coming home. No one has the compassion to get him home with these otherwise inane items.

                Rushdie is on to something here. Remember the piece of dung? One million dollars. I wonder what would happen if that collector was showed how many people’s lives that money could change. How many children he could feed. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating outright socialism, rather philanthropy. Being a college student, there isn’t much I can do except volunteer my time and back, which I do. Others have greater means, however. I’m sure if this mysterious collector was shown the lives he could change he would. He wouldn’t leave them stranded on mars, as Rushdie alludes we are all doing. He would do good with that million dollars. Not spend it on a pile of shit.