Years ago, my father, an industrial engineer, designed a new record processing plant for RCA. As a result, when the time came, he was invited along with a handful of dignitaries to participate in the groundbreaking ceremonies. Each participant got a lovely oak-handled, chrome plated shovel to dig the ceremonial first clump of dirt. On the back of the blade was an inscription recording the event and the name of the celebrant; they got to keep the shovels as mementos.
Afterwards, my father took the shovel home and put it in the garage along with his other tools. My mother used it for years to dig in her garden. She thought it was a pretty good shovel.