No monkey here

Thursday, May 21, 2015
You know that old saying, "I've got a monkey on my back?" If you have a monkey on your back, you have a seemingly insurmountable problem you can't forget. I've got some things that are hard to forget, but nothing that's insurmountable. My little family is full of a love that conquers all.

That's why I choose to have a puppy on my back. I wake up with a smile this way.

Picture taken just after waking up. Monet has my back. :)
I'm postponing the trip to Sugar Mill Ruins at Jamie's request. She's doing something special with one of the pics over on Dal's blog. It'll hopefully be under the Found Treasures tab over there. After it's up, I'll post the pics and the story. :)

And here's my attempt to make a middle school band concert more fun:


Yesterday...

Saturday, May 16, 2015
Yesterday, Jamie and I were feeling a little lucky, so after work we drove to the Tampa Hard Rock. We had a good time, but the best part was working through what we know about the chase on the way there. Jamie's voice was hoarse by the time we go to Tampa. But wow, we know some amazing stuff.

At the casino, Jamie went off to play poker and I went to play my favorite slot. This was my big haul for the night:


Notice I only needed one more of those Quick Hits for the $19,000 prize. But I was more than happy with what I got! I invited some people from Dal's blog over to join us for dinner, but Goofy yelled at me for being off topic and it was getting late anyway, and for some reason, the lights and noise, which are usually sort of soothing to me, were just lights and too much noise.

Jamie sat down on her way out and put a large note in this machine, which apparently didn't like her lucky green toenails.



So Jamie and I went to Denny's and brought in TTOTC and TFTW. I ordered a Grand Slam, but was highly disappointed to learn they didn't serve grits at 10:00 pm, even though it says breakfast served 24 hours. When I was a college kid, I could get grits at Denny's at 1:00 am.

Anyway, my Slam had two eggs over easy, toast, pancakes with extra butter, but no syrup allowed, and bacon. At least the thin brown pieces of plastic looked like bacon. Jamie ordered some weird avocado cheeseburger. Jamie tried to win a prize out of the stuffed animal claw machine, but failed. Then she let me try. I failed, too. My nieces know the trick and could clean out that machine.

Today, Jamie woke up and counted some cheese. Really, she did. She sent the text to prove it.


Today, if the weather stays good, we're going kayaking and treasure hunting. I hope we find some cool stuff. I'll keep you posted!


Oh yeah, Monet is better. :)

The answer's still blowing...somewhere...

Saturday, May 9, 2015


From Dal's Blog...

Friday, May 8, 2015


I have a post almost ready with some interesting stories you may not know about the Jolly Green Giant helicopters in Vietnam (the same that rescued Forrest at least one time), but there was some talk on Dal's blog last night that led me to sum it up (I'll post the whole story in a couple days...I want to make sure I fact check enough to get it right, unlike PEOPLE MAGAZINE, who stated over and over that the treasure is in NM. Come on! There's almost FIVE YEARS of information out there!). I'll also admit I've not done enough fact checking before a post, and I'm trying to remedy that, but geez, the knowledge that the search extends beyond NM is ALL OVER the web!

Anyway, I posted this on Dal's blog:

"Has anyone else considered that the way Forrest recently described himself, “I’m a retired fighter pilot who was shot down twice,” is important? I read about the Jolly Green’s and the FAC’s, and what’s interesting is how extremely rare it is for a fighter pilot to survive being shot down twice.”
And notice he doesn't say “two times,” but specifically, “twice.” And very curious that in Ute, the word for “twice,” is “wize.”
Shot down twice. Extremely lucky. Horseshoes a symbol of good luck, and there are two of them…
If you’ve been twice…"

Another blogger replied with this:
"In my well intentioned but probably doesn’t come across as humble opinion, I think that focusing on information like this will only get us farther away from the correct solve. I saw your post on The Catcher in the Rye and its importance but Mr. Fenn has specifically said no literature of any form influenced his writing of the poem. There is a person I see more often on Jenny’s site named Astree who is constantly using anagrams even though Mr. Fenn has clearly stated anagrams are not involved. If we take all of the comments Mr. Fenn has made and the books he has written or talked about the amount of “Clues” we can concoct would be endless."
To which I replied:
"Actually, he didn’t specifically say anagrams. Read that quote again. And no, I agree that no literature influenced his hiding the chest, but I DO believe that concepts FOUND in important literature did.
And my Ute comment is simply based on a COMPREHENSIVE knowledge of geography, which he said WAS helpful.
My reading about the Jolly Greens was simply because I was interested in it, and in reading and comparing it to what I read in TTOTC, I find curiosities. There’s a reason he keeps repeating he was shot down twice. There’s a reason he says the PJ in the Jolly Green didn’t need to tell him TWICE to sit on the flak vest. If you invest a little time researching and striving to know the nuances behind his words, you learn a lot. Whether you learn any hints as to where the chest is hidden, I don't know, but learning about these things might help you understand the man who hid the chest a little better. (I wanted to say this in the reply, but it was about 5:00 am, and I forgot, so I add it here)
Now I know why he rushed to the flak vest. Most likely, they were taking enemy fire. The enemy would purposely wait for the Jolly Green’s to come, and when the helicopter was at its most vulnerable –when the hoist began to lift the downed pilot from the ground–they would open fire with heavy Soviet artillery.
Almost every rescue involved an enemy attack, and like Forrest, I think those Jolly Green guys were huge, selfless heroes.
Just a short time after Forrest’s rescue, Lt. Lance Eagan rescued another pilot, Cpt. Jack Modica, and that exciting story can be read online. I encourage everyone to read it, because once you do, you’ll have a whole new appreciation of those ultimate heroes.
So, no anagrams or ciphers, but important literature is important for a reason. Not that he was influenced by any, but because there might be concepts in them that are also in the poem and the big picture.
I think there’s a reason Forrest quoted his dad when he said it was good to learn the things "not worth knowing" about. Because you may find there’s something worth knowing in everything."
Those blades and engines may have been the most welcome sound in Vietnam. It meant help was on it's way.

I've found valuable information in everything I've ever researched, whether it relates to the chase or not. Of course, I'm trying desperately to find the treasure, but I'm going to stop and smell the roses as I do. If something looks interesting to ME, I'm going to read about it and learn about it. I wanted to know why A1C Sully didn't have to tell Forrest twice to sit on the flak vest. I found out (the enemy was mostly shooting from the GROUND, and sitting on the flak vest was a way to protect your butt), and I learned something interesting in the process. I learned about some heroes, and remembered them with a smile and a tear in my thoughts. I'm learning there is a lot in the world to be grateful for. I'm also learning a lot about how things used to be, and how there are pros and cons about living in the world we live in today. 
I'm learning about what is wrong with our world today, and have a new perspective on what is mine, and not mine, and everybody's.

I'm also learning there are many things we are in the process of forgetting, and we should not EVER forget. 
And still they smile. As Forrest said, "Such heroes are few."

Unknown Soldier
Dragged from the mud 
Of some unknown land 
Stripped of his belongings and 
Wrapped for his journey home

Must one die here so young and so alone. 
To become a man, victim of an undeclared war 
On unknown soil. To be so soon forgotten 
By those who sent him here

- Roger Ables - 
HHB 321 Arty

What we'd do when it's done

Tuesday, May 5, 2015
I had a lot of dreams last night, which meant I woke up a lot. One of the dreams was a little disturbing, but not until I woke up and thought about it. While I was dreaming it, it was pleasant, in a way.

In part of it, Joe and I were searching for the treasure, and we found ourselves in this town made of giant stone facades. Some were storefront facades, and some were more creative. Joe thought the stone Indian Chief that almost touched the clouds might hold a secret, or something special. But before we could approach, something happened, and the stone storefronts started to collapse. And for some reason, that was a good thing.

Imagine this, all white stone, touching the sky, and you have the Indian in my dream.

So, anyway, enough of that. I think I made an important finding last night, but by the time I had all the information, it was getting late, and I fell asleep, once again while texting Jamie. I woke up to like 15 long texts.

Jamie and I talked a little bit yesterday about what we would do if we actually found the chest. I said I'd like to take my kids to see our ancestral homeland of Scotland, and search for another lost treasure. Jamie said she would like to travel, too. After the celebratory part of finding it was over, Jamie would like to start a school teaching kids in a different, more cognitive way than schools teach now. I thought that was really cool.

After my celebratory phase was over, I would like to  start a ranch out west for young adults who feel lost and alone, or for kids with autism. It would be venturing into new ground for me, but those are my two greatest passions. I would incorporate some of the teachings and wisdom of the Indian culture around the ranch, and we'd have animals and we'd teach practical knowledge that young people need to succeed. We'd focus on teaching skills and instilling wisdom rather than conventional ABC's and 123's. I bet Jamie would like the idea of the ranch, too. What do you think, Jamie? We'd make a great partnership. We already do! I would like to maybe make it non-profit, so that it could be available to kids of all income levels, or maybe we could get some philanthropists to provide scholarships. I don't know. There's a lot of thought and research to be put into such a weighty endeavor.

Can you imagine what this kind of thing could instill in kids? "Texting machines" replaced by something infinitely more valuable, if only for a summer, could bring whole new meaning to our future's lives.

Those may be pipe dreams, but I've always believed that where there's a will, there's a way. I don't really know anything about business, but if it's meant to be, it will be...if I can find the courage to walk forward, step by step, Those kids need this ranch. And I want to do it. So, treasure or not, now is the time to start trying to find my way there. It might take my entire half of the treasure (I just looked at prices of small ranches...wow!), but that doesn't deter me, because it's a purpose I can't ignore.

The end of my rainbow,
The main thing Jamie and I want to do is pay it forward. Use Forrest's good to start a new good, if you know what I mean.

This was going to be something else...

Monday, May 4, 2015
I was going to write about the Misty and Spad Forward Air Controllers in Vietnam this morning. Not because it relates to the chase, but because it reminds me there are still heroes in the world that don't belong to S.H.I.E.L.D.

And because it's 5:30 on a Monday morning and my brain is still swimming in a miry swamp of sleep-fog.

So, anyway, Jamie was in rare form last night, texting all kinds of craziness about watches and good luck charms and apartments and animal crackers and some other stuff that left me scratching my head and saying, "I don't have a clue what you're talking about." She's the fastest texter I know. I'll start typing one sentence, and before I can even hit send, she's psychically anticipated what I'm about to say and ELEVEN reply bubbles pop up on my screen.

Anyway, she texted something about her dog barking at a mean neighbor and digging up a bone. Apparently, Jamie didn't like Hartman digging up that particular bone, and she wanted him to help her rebury it. So she pulled out two spades, and gave Hartman the option of picking which one he wanted--the nifty black one, or the tiny plain silver one:


So, by the look Hartman is giving Jamie, it's obvious he wants her to choose first. What a polite dog! But Jamie is polite, too, and insisted that Hartman pick first. Hartman wasn't playing that game and Jamie describes this as his "just looking out the window" expression:


Hartman is as much of a character as Jamie is. I like that dog. And Jamie.

As I was falling asleep, I vaguely heard multiple beeps on my phone, but was too tired to check until this morning. It was nice to wake up with a laugh. Jamie sent me a couple more pics of Hartman. This is Hartman's "Are you reading that book AGAIN?" face. I get the same look from my kids when I pick up my tattered copy of TTOTC.


And this picture may be the best dog photobomb ever. I couldn't contain my laughter when I saw this:


And I can't post pics of someone else's dog without posting pics of mine. This is Monet the other night when I was trying to relax in the bath. She either wanted to come in with me, or she was trying to tell me to get out and get her a treat. I'm pretty sure she wanted the treat.



Then, if I so much as talk to Monet, the cat has to get in on the action. I'm not really a cat person, so I don't know why this cat has to practically step on my heels everywhere I go.


Monet couldn't stand it. But the cat is bigger than she is, so she doesn't mess with him too much. Instead, she just takes a spot a little further down.


Oh, and that cat may be the must ungraceful cat to ever walk the Earth. There's a 50/50 chance that when he takes that spot on the side of the tub, he'll fall in the water with me. And that isn't a funny thing, unless you think a whirling helicopter of razor sharp claws in hot water gouging your naked flesh and getting your book or iPad all wet is funny.

I'm sure some of you think it's hilarious.


Findings and Discoveries

Friday, May 1, 2015
I once was lost but now I'm found. And lately, I've made some important discoveries regarding the chase. Only Jamie and Forrest know. But of course, Forrest never responds to anything I write him about my discoveries. Which is a good thing. When I send him my thoughts, I'm simply letting him know how close (or how extremely far away) I am from solving the poem. I imagine he's laughed out loud at some of my solves.

I say discoveries versus findings for a reason. I had never "lost" what I've discovered, so in my way of thinking, something I haven't lost can't be "found."

So, I think discovery is finding something no one else has lost. Electricity was discovered. Elements and chemical compounds are discovered. Things previously unknown are discovered.

Joe discovering his first fish.

Objects someone has lost are found.

Oh, he will not be happy when it's time to go home.

During the last couple years, I have both discovered and found many things. Mostly, though, I've found things I'd thought I'd lost. I hadn't written a poem in about twenty years before about six months ago. So I've found that passion for poetry that I'd lost.

I've found my sense of adventure that was never really lost, but suppressed under the weight of responsibility and stress. I've discovered that being adventurous doesn't mean abandoning responsibility.

From my Colorado trip with Joe.

I've found the wonder of nature and the world outside my home. Again, this wasn't really lost, but weighed down. I've discovered I don't have to be nor am expected to be a martyr. I can balance taking care of my family with adventure.

I've both found and discovered a love and curiosity for the past. I've always loved the ancient past, but I have discovered I'm also intensely interested in the more recent past. I have a few patients in their 90's and I find myself spending more time with them during their treatments. They seem to enjoy talking about the past (especially if they served in a war), and they seem to enjoy my questions. I think my incredulous reactions to some of their experiences amuse them, but I'm glad I can put a smile on their faces. Many of them have no surviving family, and many of them still live independently. They don't have many opportunities to share their life, and I'm discovering it's important for them to share, and important for me to listen.


So, that's my perception of finding and discovering.

Monday, I'm going to find my inner Viking and start working out again with Shannon Hall (formerly Dallas, of American Gladiator fame).  She was the first Toughwoman World Champion, and the first woman to box in Madison Square Garden. She lives here in NSB, and I'm fortunate to call her one of my best friends. Don't let the on stage confidence and toughness fool you. In real life she has a huge heart of gold. She is one of the most inspirational people I know, and always positive and encouraging.  I want to be in prime fighting shape for my next search. With her coaching me, I will be!




Shannon at her gym in NSB.