Patience, Grasshopper...

I'm still working on my post about San Lazaro. I keep getting distracted by some amazing things I'm finding in my research.

I'm reading a very obscure book I found lingering in cyberspace. To me, I see some exciting things. This book is not easily found. I wasn't even looking for it. I don't even remember how I happened to click on it, but it holds a lot of promise.

There are maps in this book. There are terms in this book. And definitions, and...lots of stuff. I've even maybe found the reason Forrest chose the font he did for the ff at the end of his vignettes in Too Far to Walk. Of course, nothing is 100%, but I'm excited. I'll post more tomorrow, I promise!

How in the world?

I was going to write an interesting article about what life may have been like for a kid growing up in the prehistoric pueblo of San Lazaro.

INSTEAD, I woke up this morning with the worst ear pain I've ever had. It's only one side (left), and every time I swallow, it feels like someone is stabbing me with a burning poker. My ear feels slightly full, no discharge that I notice, so I don't think it's a ruptured eardrum. I don't go to bed with sharp implements in my bed to jab into my ear when I'm asleep.

The closest thing I think it could be is a blocked Eustachian tube from being sick last week. But it's AGONY. So, the San Lazaro post will have to wait until tomorrow. Sorry...:(

This little girl might have been struck by lightning in her sleep. She is apparently nearly dead, cause her eyes are x's. That is me today.

Wyoming Searchers...BEWARE

All right, first of all, I must take a few seconds to defend myself. I was reading over past posts and noticed some atrocities of spelling and grammar. By some, I mean A LOT.

In my defense, please remember that I write these in the very early mornings right after waking up, and each post takes at most, fifteen to twenty minutes. That includes finding all the pics. I write most of them on a finicky iPad that thinks it's funny to replace my intended "there" with "their."

And, I make this stuff up as I go. I very rarely ever plan a post.

And, just to be clear, I post what I choose to post. When I post about the chase, I am not even coming near where I think the chest is. Even open books can have some pages written in invisible ink. Maybe I'm not as bad of a poker player as I thought. :)

That being said, I want to throw out a word of warning to my fellow searchers who believe Periodic Spring,WY, is WWWH.

Yes, it's a decent WWWH. It is a "halt." It is located near the Salt Range, which kinda satisfies the context of the words "warm" and "waterS." And, it's located near Afton, which some people read backwards in "NOT FAr, but too far..."

On a side note, Afton looks like a cool place to visit, very friendly, despite the "welcoming" bull elks locked in violent combat while standing on top of thousands of dead animal parts.

However, I'm warning you now, don't go near Periodic Spring. It's apparently patrolled by Cato, a giant, mutant Doberman with a taste for human flesh. I think I saw it featured on one of those monster hunting reality shows. Like Bigfoot and the elusive Skunk Ape, the only footage those guys could get was of the dark, grainy footpath in front of them as they ran away, yelling, "What the BLEEP was that?"

I guess they didn't know Cato, the flesh eating giant Doberman, willingly poses for pictures.

The tongue is full of poison.

What is special?

There's a lot of talk (too much, I think) of the people who have gotten the first two clues right. In my opinion, even though they may have been within 200 feet, it might as well have been 2000 miles. Because two clues doesn't equal nine, and you must know all nine to hit the target.

My belief about how some searchers have gotten the first two clues right, but have entirely missed the target, is that they  have researched the heck out of WWWH, but have ended up bending the following clues to fit what they want the poem to say. They presume that Forrest's special spot will also look special to them. Isn't that what we all want? We want to Forrest to think a place is special because we think it's special.

I think these places are special, but does Forrest?

We are a species that have grand imaginations. In my dreams, and in some people's delusional realities, a special spot looks like this:

We need to get rid of these ideas and be open to wherever the poem leads. We can't presume to know why this place is special to Forrest. We can presume it's because it's associated with a special memory, but we can't even know that with certainty. Forrest's special place could be a lake, a stream bed, a tree, a park, anywhere...even a desert.

For example, there's a special place for me that no one knows about. It is associated with a happy memory. I have a couple of those places, actually. One is in front of a grocery store, where my dad and I were sitting in the car, waiting for my mom to finish shopping. My dad was very near the end of his life. In that parking lot, he told me for the first time ever, how proud he was of me. I can't drive by where that store was (it's a restaurant now) without thinking of that precious moment.

Another is my happy surfing place, where I would go every summer morning to bask under the sun in the salty waters. The waves were good there, not too big and not too small, not too choppy, and the beach wasn't a common tourist area. I remember smiling there a lot as I caught one perfect wave after another on my longboard.

The way to the special surfing spot.

So, throw out all your preconceived notions about what "special" is. Just go. Go where the poem leads. I don't know for sure why, but there's a reason you'll be surprised. Maybe it's because one person's junk may be another person's treasure. :)

Is 100% Absolute?

Disclaimer: I am not talking about self-confidence in this post, but the psychological condition of overconfidence. Self confidence is good, but overconfidence, although a common human trait, is not so good.

Have you ever been absolutely sure that you were right about something, only to find out you were wrong? I'll raise my hand on that one, and if you're human, you will too. If you don't raise your hand, I've got news for you...you're wrong. Or an alien.

The Overconfidence Effect is a well-proven bias that basically shows that when you think you're 100% right, you're actually wrong about 40% of the time. In the case of the chase, I'd be willing to bet you can raise that 40% to about...well, as of right now, 100%. There are searchers in all four states who are absolutely convinced they're 100% right in their solves.

The thing is, our human brain is prone to thinking we are greater than we actually are. We're smarter than Joe Schmoe next door. We're better at thinking out of the box. We're more unique than anyone else. Our own way of thinking is different than that searcher in Washington, Texas, Missouri, and California, and for that matter, everyone else's. Our solve is the correct solve, because it matches every single vague word in the poem.

But is that accurate thinking, or merely subjective?

If you think it's accurate, you're wrong. It's subjective. Our brains are calibrated subjectively, meaning that basically, our brains are not computers, but influenced by emotion, belief, confidence, and other things--all subjective, all prone to error.

You cannot be 100% sure you are correct, no matter how confident you are. You can go with confidence to the chest, but does that mean you are 100% right? Does that mean those that are 100% correct searching in the other 3 states are wrong?

Nope. Scientifically, it more than likely means you're wrong. The Overconfidence Effect preys on even the most confident of us. No one is exempt. If you feel you are exempt, you're most likely suffering the most from this human condition.

The Overconfidence Effect can be further broken down into different categories of "wrongness." You can be a wishful thinker--you think you're more likely than others to experience positive results because of egocentricity. It's something we all suffer from, some to a greater extent than others. We know ourselves, and fail to see others in the sense that they also know themselves like we know ourselves. We tend to see ourselves in a singular light, and others in a group of gray ambiguity.

We can also feel we're right because we deserve to be right. If there is one right answer, and only one person can have the right answer, who is the most deserving? You might say, "The one who worked the hardest." You might be right. But lots of people have worked hard. There's no way to judge who worked the hardest.

Some people might say, "I deserve to be right because I'm a good person; I have maintained the integrity of the purpose of the task. I haven't cheated or deceived. So I deserve to be right." Well, you might be right, too.

Or you might say, "I deserve this because I have been wronged so often in the past, and I really, really need something to be right in my life right now." And yes, you might be right, too.

But, the unfortunate truth is, whether or not you deserve to be right doesn't determine whether you will be successful in being right.

It doesn't take much to be wrong. I took some Greek and Hebrew classes when I was in my twenties. I think the professor's favorite saying was, "If I'm dropped into the middle of the wilderness with just a compass, and there is one way out, and to find the way out, only the compass must be used, I cannot get out by being 'almost perfect.' If I am one click off, I will die in the wilderness, because being even one click (one tiny notch on the compass) off, I'll miss the mark."

I bet they know 100%...

The Overconfidence Effect can have dire results, even death. War is a good example of this phenomenon. Countries go to war when they are confident they will win. America's overconfidence resulted in tragic casualties in Vietnam. Thomas Andrews , the designer of the Titanic, along with the White Star Line, were also overconfident, with catastrophic results. I'll concede that if Harland and Wolff had heeded Andrews' recommendation of 46 (instead of 20) lifeboats, and a double hull, many lives could have been saved. However, when all was said and done, Andrews, in a euphoric moment of overconfidence, said the Titanic was "as nearly perfect as human brains can make her."

Unfortunately for those on board that cold, fateful night, human brains are far from perfect.

"Overconfident professionals sincerely believe they have expertise, act as experts, and look like experts. You will have to struggle to remind yourself that they may be in the grip of an illusion." Daniel Kahneman

Sorry, I couldn't help myself. I'm an imperfect human. :)

So, being confident is one thing. It's good to be positive, to be content, to work hard, and to "go with confidence."

But being 100% convinced of an answer before having the proof in your hands does not mean you are 100% right.  Beware overconfidence. Take it from one who knows...

Words and Numbers and Things

I've been reading a little on Dal's blog regarding people's ideas about how language and numbers and the Golden Mean come into play in the chase.

Also, notice the left and right hands. Maybe important, maybe not.

My thought is that language and numbers may both come into play. I believe you have to figure out the right "translation" to figure out how to use the numbers. There may be a third layer, too. Which may either be certain months, or certain times of the day, or certain days of the week, and even...something else that I can't say. There's a lot to filter through when you start to get close.

I know Jamie has translated the poem into every single language and back. I've translated into a couple of languages. Phonetics are important, in my opinion. Phonetically, it seems as though the poem begs to be translated in Old English, which Jamie and I have done.

19 Lines of Beowulf in Old English...I don't think it's quite as hard as this.

But, I'm finding an even more interesting translation...Middle English. Not Shakespearean English, not even really Chaucer English, but true Middle English. Listen carefully to Forrest recite the poem. Listen to the way he says "where." It's like when Stewey on Family Guy says, "Wil Wheaton." Lol.

After four days of researching Middle English, I'm almost through the letter A with about four pages of notes. I'm not sure what I'll find when I'm done, if anything. But, it's interesting, and things are coming together.

I've done the Golden Numbers thing, and got the same results of some people. I looked at it again yesterday, and noticed a few places where I may have done something wrong. Those numbers may not be what I thought, and having just one number wrong will lead you to a completely wrong solve. I think finding those correct numbers means finding the right "translation" of the words in the poem.

I think you have to consider syntax, context, and grammar. I think those commas, periods, semicolon, and question mark are important.

And I think the comprehensive knowledge of geography is useful, and I think when Forrest said comprehensive, I think he really meant comprehensive. Like know everything you possibly can, which may mean historical place names, current place names, why something was named something, and nicknames of places. Almost every place, town, mountain, street, stream, and river in the world is known or has been known by more than one name. My suggestion: strive to know them all.

Yeah, all 8 million.

For the record, I have done what a lot of you have done: researched the meaning of every single word in the poem, including it's synonyms and opposites.

And now, if you want something to think about if you haven't already thought of it--why was the Romanesque bronze chest perfect for Forrest's treasure? Was it because it may have held a Book of Days? I think so. For those of you who don't know this (many of you do), the Book of Days he's referring to is not a diary or a journal. He italicized it, meaning it is a publication of some sort. I believe he is referring to Ovid's Book of Days, which coincidentally (?) happens to be known as another name: Fasti.

You are wise, Mr. Ovid.

I think it is "important literature" in solving the poem. Well, time to get ready for work. Have a great day!

If you read no other post, read all of this one...

All the artwork on this post was done by prisoners and/or drug addicts...

Jamie and I started a marathon of frantic texting last night as we discovered some new things.  That's all I'll say, as we are sworn to secrecy. No posts in the immediate future will hold any clues or hints as to what we're working on, even though I may post about the chase. I think you all would be amused to learn some of my early theories, which probably mirror a lot of your own.

So, today, a bit of seriousness to ponder...

Remember the police standoff that happened in our neighborhood a few weeks ago? There is a sad outcome to that event. The man in the standoff died in jail a few days after the incident. I can tell you exactly what happened. I'd be willing to bet the man had an acute medical problem that was ignored, and unrecognized, and the poor man died as a result. Yes, I admit it's not a good thing to hold the Swat team at bay with a toy guy and a BB gun for seven hours, but if it happened as a result of a bleed in the man's brain, how much blame can be ascribed to him? How come no one recognized or took any action to have the man checked out medically? It's just sad.

When my daughter was going through her rough period (drug abuse as a result of my ex molesting her when she was 11), and ended up in the Brevard County Jail, the mistreatment and conditions she described to me were appalling. She went through her own medical emergency, and was basically told that if she was so miserable, "she shouldn't have gotten herself in jail in the first place."

She was having a head to toe allergic reaction to the wool blankets they used, and the hives covered her from her scalp to the bottoms of her feet, and were beginning to form in her mouth and throat. They would not take her to the medical bay, not even for a Benedryl. She called me in tears as the other 99 hardened women there were threatening to beat her to a pulp if she didn't get out of the bay. It took me calling there with hellfire in my mouth and threatening a lawsuit to get her seen by medical personnel. I was not a happy person that day.

My daughter wants to write a book about the conditions she witnessed firsthand. The things that happen behind those walls shouldn't happen to anyone, let alone young women. Most of those girls have no family, or they have mothers and fathers that are drug addicts themselves. Many of them grew up in poverty because of their parents' wrongdoing. Many of them had been abandoned by those same parents to fend for themselves at 15 or 16 years old. Many of them had NEVER experienced the unconditional love of a parent.

And we, as a society, are so quick to judge and throw blame. We should be ashamed. Who cares about those "bad" kids? Who among us is able to see beyond the facade they've been forced to erect in self defense? Who among us can see the hurt they've endured, the rejection, the hardships, the poverty, the "whys" behind their actions?

Certainly not the court system. Yes, if you do wrong, you should have to answer for it. However, if you all only knew what goes on behind those locked doors, you would know a whole new side of the story.

Every child should know the warmth, strength, stability, and love of a mother. Many of those young women turn to drugs as a substitute for the feelings of love they've never before experienced. Many of them are "good" kids. Many of them have always wanted to be "good" kids. Many of them, when they were little, wanted to grow up to be nurses, and doctors and veterinarians.

But not everyone comes home from school to cookies on the table and a hug from Mom. Many of those kids instead come home to no one, or a mom drunk and stoned and passed out on the couch, or worse...a father who beats or molests them. Or possibly a mom who is forced to work two or three jobs just to keep a roof over their heads and is so tired and worn down that she has no energy left to be a positive influence.

And yes, some of those kids are "normal" middle class kids, rich kids, any kid, who has loving parents yet still somehow, through a mistake or bad decision, become hooked on a drug or combination of drugs so addicting, they will risk their lives and do anything to get the next pill.

My heart breaks for all of those kids, but especially for the ones who have never known genuine love. I take every opportunity to talk to my daughter's "old" friends, and although I can't replace their own parents, at least I can try and be a positive influence in theirs.

One thing me and my kids do every Christmas is to buy presents for kids of parents who are in prison. We select a few families, go out and buy the toys, wrap them as fancily as we can, then go to their homes to visit with them and give them their gifts.

If you haven't done this, try it. I guarantee you will see how "bad" kids start out--full of hope, love, smiles and hugs for anyone who'll let them climb in their lap. I can tell you with 100% certainty, the gifts took a distant second place to the hugs and touch and attention we brought.

And when they clutch  your hands with such ferocity and beg you not to leave, it will not only bring tears to your eyes, but it will make you want to scoop them up, take them home with you, and protect them forever.

It makes me ashamed of myself that we only do this kind of thing at Christmas. We should do it all year. Maybe I will find a way to make that happen. I believe it needs to happen.

You want to see the drug problem among our youth go away?

Love them...

I'm going to leave you with a poem my daughter wrote me from jail, about half way through her stay there. I'm also proud and blessed beyond belief that she has now been clean for two years.

And I want to stress something to the parents who love their children beyond belief and are dealing with an addicted child. To those parents I say, "NEVER, EVER, NEVER, give up on your child, NO MATTER WHAT. Cling to hope, because it is NEVER to late to save your child."

Since she wrote this poem, A is happy, has a full time job, and a boyfriend who adores her and treats her like a princess. She's looking at returning to college. She's beautiful, and amazing, an overcomer, a survivor, a warrior, a treasure...

I'm sorry for all the nights I made it hard for you to breathe
I remember what it was like to have my daddy leave
I can't imagine how hard it was to watch me go
Praying but not knowing if I'd ever come home
I'm sure your nights were too silent
While I was gone

This bull is too violent
That I'm riding on
I can't escape the panic
The pain is piling on
Sometimes it's too hard to keep my smile on

And I'm sorry Momma for all the times I broke your heart
When God left my life I know yours fell apart.
I used to tell you how He moved the clouds to see me
Turned your world upside down when I stopped believing
You said I've always been strong, now you're scared of my fragility
You must think that surviving day to day is outside my ability
I can't deny that drugs are f***ing killing me
You said my death is a probability
But I'm your treasure chest

And you never stopped praying
Momma knows what's best
I shoulda heard what you were sayin
I shoulda never left
Cause you never did
I wish that I could do it again
But God's a God of second chances
And my momma never stopped holding my hand
Never want to let go again
I'm sorry, Momma, you're my best friend
I'm sure your nights were too silent
While I was gone

This bull is to violent
That I'm riding on
I can't escape the pain, the rain is piling on
Sometimes it's too hard to keep my smile on
I'm sorry, Momma, for all the pain I've caused
Please forgive me Momma, you're all I've got
And I swear that God made me different
I've grown up a lot and I've learned my lesson
I took it all for granted, you and my siblings
But coming to jail taught me to count my blessings
And I'll never let you have another silent night
Jesus gave me a brand new life
I've escaped the pain, I aim' t got to fight
And Momma, you are my only sunshine.