We had a buddy who was infatuated with rocks that he'd find when we'd be bank maggots. He was always looking down in the water as he was re-baiting, and sure enough, you'd see him elbow-to-arm deep eventually, scrounging up a "pretty rock" from the bottom of the river. He'd rub up it and examine it..and if passed the mustard he'd place it in the back of his vest. The joke got to be, that whenever we'd take a break and sit for a minute, someone would slip a rock or 2 into the back of his vest as well. It never failed though that once the rock dried out, it lost its luster and then when he'd get back to the pickup he'd go through his "rock collection" and toss them all out, but always wonder where all the "extra rocks" came from! Plus his vest weighed probably "60#"!