Show and Tell

I'm working from home today, preparing a PowerPoint presentation for the surgeon I work for. If I tried to do this at work, I'd be constantly interrupted, and he needs this ASAP for a conference hosting Florida Orthopedic surgeons. It's sorta a big deal. It's coming along nicely, so I thought I'd take a break and write a post.

I wanted to talk a little about my lifelong love of writing, and how it all got started.

My mom says I started writing before I would talk. I wrote my first story just before I turned six, about a mouse with the longest tail in the world. My mom dated it August 7th, 1974.

My grandmother taught me how to write a proper letter when I was very young. I actually remember her showing me where to put the address, and how to address a letter to her.

I wrote my grandmother and grandfather many, many letters, and I'm thankful they saved them for me to remember them (and myself) by.

I loved playing cops and robbers, and cowboys and Indians. John is my older brother, and Patrick is my younger brother.

When I was seven, I wrote a story called "The Spy," and mailed it to my grandparents. My grandmother dated the story July 7th, 1976. It's an amusing story, once again featuring the mouse with the longest tail in the world.

The story begins (I'm leaving in all the misspellings for your amusement)... "One day I was walking down the street...and what did I see? I saw some crooks! And then I saw a Spy! When the crooks saw the Spy...they started fighting. The Spy tried to hide but he couldn't. And he saw something to hide in. It was a car. It was black. Little did he know it was a (Get away car.) He snuck in and then...V---rooom! They went so fast the car shook."

Notice the "(get away car.)" I think that meant I whispered it. 

Page two... "Soon they stopped. The crooks went out. They opened up the trunk. They saw some money for a minitt...and then they saw the Spy! They started fighting again! Boy; they had scaches all over the crooks. But the Spy got away, leaveing the briefcase."

Wow, this spy looks eerily like someone else I know...

From Seventeen Dollars a Square Inch, A Personal Tribute to Eric Sloane, by Forrest Fenn

Page three... "The fight soon stopped. Boy...I was glad it stopped. They were furious when they saw that the Spy was gone. They started serching. They looked for about one hour. On the 2 hour looking, they saw a rusling though the bushes. They looked...It was a dog. They were mad. On their 3rd hour they saw the Spy. Then they caught him. They caught his bird, his mouse, and his dog."

Apparently, I thought there was one crook too many. The little crook is saying, "Duh."

Then the story reaches the "dark moment" when all seems lost... "They tied them up to the steak. The mouses tail was the biggest tail in the would."

Too bad they couldn't get away by eating the "steaks."

And finally, the glorious conclusion... "The Spy got an Ibea! With the mouse's tail, he could reach almost 12 feet! He whispered, "Reach over to the keys and unlock all of the steaks. Then they got in a fight with the crooks again. Everyone got beat up. And all the crooks did was wind up in Jail. And guess what the mouse got...$20,000!"

As I grew older, my love for the written word increased. Reading was a voracious hobby, and books littered every corner of my house.

In fifth grade, I moved to a one-street neighborhood out in the boon-dock swamps of Merritt Island, Florida. I had a journalistic sense even then, as you can see by my letter to my grandmother detailing my desire to start a neighborhood newsletter:

I like the part about the tick on my cat's ear. 

I also started keeping a diary, and I have dozens of cloth bound journals highlighting nearly every day of my life.

Remember these?

I wrote everything down...I even kept a dream journal, and journals for poems and random thoughts.

My love of writing has ebbed and waned over the years, but I've managed to keep at it. I have kept an almost daily online blog since Blogger first debuted on the Internet. Those blogs are inactive, kept only for myself. Some of the memories are very painful, others are joyous, but all are important, and I'm looking forward to one day converting them into a memoir for my children, so they'll be able to show their children and grandchildren their heritage.

It's one way I can be like the phoenix, rising from ashes each time they read one of my stories. Hopefully, my great-grandkids will smile when they think of their silly ancestor who loved mice with very long tails.

Just Halloween Pics

We dressed up at work today. And yes, two different tops. And let me add that I've posted these for a couple reasons. I only wear form-fitting clothes at Halloween. Every other day is baggy scrubs, tee shirts, sweatshirts and sneakers (ask Jamie). I very rarely "dress up." For the last two years, I've used Halloween as an excuse to be someone I'm not in everyday life. My friends and coworkers get a kick out of it, and I've discovered that for a day, it's fun. 

Last year, I was an elf warrior princess, Game of Thrones Style. I won the costume contest at my neighborhood restaurant hangout. It was at that function I realized that there were some that liked certain "assets" I apparently had. So, on one day a year, they make an appearance.

Oh, and I'm also poking fun at myself...you know, craving attention and all. If those people could see me in real life, they'd change that opinion very quickly. :)

Oh, and that's a real civil war sword.

Rise of the Pobster

I've always tried to encourage imagination and creativity in my kids, and Joe, in his quiet way, has surpassed my expectations this Halloween. He hasn't really liked dressing up in the past, but he's made a lot of progress over the past year. This year, he announced he wants to be a pobster for Halloween. I texted Aidan yesterday telling her the news...here are the texts:

So, Joe's going to be a pobster, possibly the face of the next Sharknado.

I have to dress up with a skeleton theme for work tomorrow. You know, because of bones...orthopedics. I got a couple things off Amazon. I refuse to dress up in a ridiculous costume, so I'm going for the cool skeleton hipster look. I'll post a pic tomorrow. :)

Monet, aka Street Rocket

I'd just finished a 9.5 hour workday, got a car loaded with groceries, and opened my front door...

Monet, the best behaved dog in the world, took off down the street like her tail puff was on fire...you'll see glimpses of the miniature rabbit-like creature as I walk after her saying in my super authoritative mad voice, "HEY! Get back in the house!" (like that would work). My mom even has a cameo in this one, because she freaks out when Monet gets away. Lol.

The Big Picture

The CBS Sunday Morning interview was great for three reasons:

1. It was neat to see Dal out there walking around and not seeing a moose, and quickly checking a rock to not see the treasure. He was in a beautiful spot, though, and I think a well-chosen one. And he said the word "fun," which is, after all, where it's at.

2. It was neat to see the family "enjoying" their hike, throwing caution to the wind. "Press on, children, even though we can see you're terrified. And bored." One thing--if you're doing this for you, and your children are terrified or incredibly bored, something's wrong, in my opinion. However, I realize the media only provides a few moments out of the entire trip and the children may have been thoroughly pleased and had a great time on the trip. I understand the press is GREAT at catching you at a bad moment. I know there were two moments when Joe was a little terrified on our trip and if the media filmed those two moments, the world wouldn't have seen the entire picture, so I have nothing against that family, and I probably shouldn't have made the above comment, but I'm going to leave it there to prove a point.

3. The mine comment made me extremely happy. My solve wasn't a mine, but it was at the time of the interview, and it had to do with black widows.  I am very glad it's not in a mine.

Okay, now for the meat of the post. Forrest tells us to look at the "big picture." No one really knows what he's talking about. The big picture can apply to lots of things. Let's look at a few.

1. The big picture is really a big picture. Like the big pictures in TTotC. Yes, it could be one of those pictures. There's also a big picture on the Santa Fe website that I really like for it's aberrations. In my mind, Forrest wants to play catch with you on a carousel. The camera testifies to that, and you need to do some research and read The Catcher and the Rye to see why I think this. There are lots of interesting things in this picture: the camera in the upper right, not all the way up, but providing a bird's eye perspective.

You know how Forrest refers to robins ducking out of the way of BB's? That's because robins can "see" magnetism, and so can ducks. It's what allows them to migrate so precisely, and why homing pigeons are so accurate without maps. Who needs a map when you can see Earth's magnetism, which looks different in each direction? Maybe that's the bird's eye perspective we need.

There are the two paintings photoshopped in. Why those two paintings? There's got to be a reason, in my opinion. The statue of the Madonna and baby near the bottom is Romanesque,  like the chest. The thing to the right of it is a Hopi Capulin thing, maybe with a Catholic influence (not sure about that at all--I researched it, but it's 5:30 am and I can't remember). The cloth lying on the floor next to the Madonna has what looks like Morse Code. There are a couple of X's, if I'm not mistaken. There are gold coins (or maybe just price tags) in various conspicuous spots if you look close. The best way to see them is to invert the photo in photoshop to negative. The coins show up as a different, more obvious blue color. Then there's the cow head that looks like it has the mouth of an alligator, and the stone bear that looks like a stone beaver. And Forrest, holding the "ball," looking like he's asking if you're ready to play catch.

So, if you research a little, you will know how this picture ties into "the end is ever drawing nigh," and The Catcher in the Rye. This is just one theory I haven't yet followed all the way through. It might help someone though.

2. The big picture is a comment on life. We didn't get to see the big picture on the CBS story. Dal graciously posted to let us see behind the scenes, and the reason why they seemed to be hiking around without rhyme or reason. We didn't get to see the fun parts of that family's trip, where the kids were happy and not terrified or bored. Maybe we aren't seeing the big picture of Forrest's life, either. We're seeing what he's put out there, but maybe if we read his words how they're meant to be read, as a whole and in the right context, we will see the correct "big picture."

3. Maybe the big picture is the map. Maybe if we look at the map in context, examining ALL of it, we'll see more than meets the eye. I have questions about that map, as many of you do. There are obvious "mistakes" (or not mistakes at all) that weren't "fixed" on the second printing. I still maintain that "highlighted" can mean either the bright parts or the washed out parts, or both. The entire map is the treasure area, at least those that are in NM, CO, WY, or MT.

4. Maybe the big picture is nothing more than a movie Forrest may have really enjoyed that maybe embodied his perception of his world at a moment of time.

5. Maybe he's telling us the big picture is the poem, and there are no shortcuts to solving it. Meaning there is no reason trying to figure out hoB or the blaze until WWWH is firmly and undeniably established. The poem is a whole, and every stanza is important. That's my thought, anyway. Which leads me to think there is a system of rules you have to follow to solve each clue. In my opinion, there is a way you can reduce the poem to an exact location. I don't have it yet, though, but feel I'm close. In New Mexico.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it. For today. And for the record, I don't think the big picture I posted above is the means for solving the poem. I once thought it was part of it, and it may still be, but I think I'm on to something better. My final answer.

Thinking Out Loud (Formerly titled: The Rainbow)

How many people out there think the end of Forrest's rainbow is actually the arc that comes out after a rain? In the following pic, I am the one, sitting in the back, with a quizzical look on her face because so many people are raising their hands.

So, there's been a lot of talk on Dal's blog about all the colors in TToTC. It's really good discussion.

Every day, I look more and more carefully at the way Forrest says things, as well as the words he uses.

Like on Jenny's blog the other day...

Forrest spoke about using an inert gas to meld a ferrous and non-ferrous metal together. There's interesting information there, but what got me was that he made a fire poker with the head of a cow. Know what that is? It's a cow poke. Notice the pic? He rammed that cow poke into his library wall. I sent him an email that said either he got too enthusiastic smashing a bug, or that cow busted his head through the wall because he liked him so much. The first pic is from Jenny's blog. The second is from the California magazine article by Taylor Clark, The Everlasting Forrest Fenn. I circled the cow's head twice in the second picture to make sure you wouldn't miss it.

Anyway, you need to listen to not only what Forrest says, but how he says it. He tells you that in the very first paragraph of TToTC. 

But, back to colors. I've listed them all, I think. There are a couple meanings that elude me. I think I've figured out who John Charles represents, but I don't get the olive jar meaning, unless he's talking about stacking. Stacking is a brand new theory, that I've actually thought of just this second. Like, when Forrest says "drawing," could he mean "draw in g," "draw w in g," or even "draw ng?" I'll have to look into that tomorrow after work. Hmmmm...

This guy's name is John Charles...whatever.

I've got other theories for the word "drawing," but I'm trying (but evidently failing) to keep on the topic of the rainbow. 

Okay, so if a butterfly is really a flutterby, could a rainbow be something else? Maybe not a rearranging of letters, like in that example, but something like Eric's marrying housekeepers because they kept the house after the divorce?

Or maybe the "end of the rainbow" is a clue in itself. The end of the rainbow is ever drawing nigh. The end is Everard wing nigh = Everard's left wing. The end of the rainbow is Eric's left wing. Man, I could give so many references to the left wing, and wings in general...too bad I don't know how to fit it all together yet. 

Another theory about the rainbow is that the colors of the rainbow combine to make the color gray. On page 75 of TToTC, Forrest quotes from a poem his friend wrote about his wife, and Forrest said he'd address them to his wife as well.

There are a few anthropomorphous colors in that poem. Courage wears crimson, knowledge wears a "dress of note," and fame wears gold. Patience, however, wears a gray gown as she stays at home and weaves the cloth the others who "do and dare" wear. The key is to figure out which one of these is Peggy. 

Courage wears a crimson coat.

I assumed at first that Peggy was the gray, patient one who was patient and stayed at home weaving. But now, I'm not so sure. Forrest never really says outright. Maybe Peggy is all three, combined. Maybe we should look for a picture in the book of Peggy wearing a particular dress. Maybe Eric represents knowledge, because he wrote knowledgeable books of "large note." The chapter "Ode to Peggy Jean" may provide some answers. 

When I googled "dress of note," this was one of the images that came up. I had to LOL. I can think of nothing more mortifying than wearing this in public:

By the way, this post is classic Mindy Thought Process, because none of this is from my notes and is literally coming from out of the blue, out of nowhere. What comes out of the blue, out of nowhere--isn't that referring to an idiom? Like a lightning bolt from out of the blue? Have you noticed how many references there are to things coming from out of the blue and out of nowhere in TToTC? Sooo, maybe there's something blue on the map, that has blazed the trail we're to follow (see lightning illustration on previous post)?

Is this a question mark? Maybe!

Well, this post didn't end up highlighting some of the colors I've found in TToTC and their possible meanings. But it did give me something to think about later, and maybe it gave you the key to figuring out the poem. 

Nothing is as it seems. I'll say that til I die. A canyon may not be a canyon. A blaze may not be something you find on a tree or a rock. The home of Brown may not refer to anything we'd normally think of as "brown." Just because it's straightforward doesn't mean it's conventional.

All we have to know is where to start.

Bullies have been around a long time...

There seem to be a lot of campaigns against bullying lately, and that's a good thing. A couple years ago, I bought about fifty of those rubber bracelets for Callie and Joe to give out to friends at school. The bracelets I ordered were black with bright blue Batman font that said "I am not a bully." I thought it would serve a dual purpose at the school. It would give the kids a peaceful way to take a stand against bullying, and it would identify the kids who weren't bullies to the kids who were being bullied, thereby providing a potential ally and friend so they might not have to stand alone.

But, the design on the webpage I bought the bracelets from depicted the bracelets differently than they actually were. The blue was not nearly bright enough to be easily read, but Callie and Joe still passed them out. Some of the teachers still wear them, I heard. I wanted to buy more bracelets, making the font bigger and brighter, but they were sort of expensive and I couldn't afford it at the time. I was going to sell them for $1.00 apiece, but when I saw the poor quality, I couldn't in good conscience charge for them, and the kids gave them away.

Look hard, and you might see the words.

So my venture to create something good that had a possibility of catching on, fizzled out. But was it a failure? I don't know. What if just ONE scared kid found a friend and supporter from that bracelet? What if ONE bully, after hearing his teacher talk about why he wore the bracelet, changed his mind about bullying and started leaving kids alone?

Then it would all be worth it. The domino effect, you know.

But, in my research last night, I was distracted by stories about the wars with the Indians in the 1800's. And I noticed that some were called "battles" and some, "massacres." But, after looking into it a little, a lot of those battles were also pretty much massacres.

A battle is where opponents fight each other. A massacre is where one side slaughters the other with no mercy.

I believe a bully ochestrated the massacre of Sand Creek. I wish I had time to go into what led up to the massacre, and I will probably do so later, but for now, I'll just focus on the biggest bully I've read about it a while--Colonel John Milton Chivington.

I hate to even write that man's name, so I'll just refer to him as Stupid. Okay, so Stupid hates the Indians. Hates them so much he says, " Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians!...I have come to kill Indians, and believe it's right and honorable to use any means under God's heaven to kill Indians...Kill and scalp all, big and little, nits make lice." (Emphasis added to show stupidity)

To make a long, bitter story short, a chief named Black Kettle rides to Fort Lyon to negotiate peace, leaving behind a camp mostly empty but for women and children. The American flag flies over the camp, to show that Black Kettle wants peace.

But Stupid shows even more stupidity and cowardice than I could even imagine, and takes 700 soldiers and rides to the camp while Black Kettle and his warriors are trying to make peace. Stupid orders his men to attack the mostly women and children, and two heroes stand up against the bully. I will proudly say their names were Captain Silas Soule and Lieutenant Joseph Cramer. They ignored Stupid's order and ordered their companies, D and K, to hold their fire.

 But their were plenty of men left to get Stupid's job done. The soldiers attacked, and massacred everyone in the camp, even after a white flag was raised next to the American flag. The quotes from the men who witnessed this, and a quote from Kit Carson sum up the horror a bully with power can inflict.

"I saw the bodies of those lying there all cut to pieces, worse mutilated than any I ever saw before, the women cut all to pieces... With knives, scalped; their brains knocked out; children two or three months old; all ages lying there, from suckling infants up to warriors... By whom were they mutilated? By the United States troops..."  --John S. Smith

"Fingers and ears were cut off the bodies for the jewelry they carried..." --Stan Hoig

"Jis to think of that dog Chivington and his dirty hounds, up thar at Sand Creek. His men shot down squaws, and blew the brains out of little innocent children. You call sich soldiers Christians, do ye? And Indians savages? What do you 'spose our Heavenly Father, who made both of them and us, thinks of these things?" --Kit Carson

Steely eyed, and not very good at grammar, but seems to know what he's talking about.

The point is, Stupids have always been around, and will probably always be around. But, if one or two stand up to them in order to do what's right over what's commanded, maybe it'll make a difference somewhere, sometime.

I think this history should be taught in schools. I think if kids were exposed to this knowledge, where right and wrong are clearly cut, maybe there wouldn't be so many bullies. If our kids were taught the other side of the story, the story where this land is NOT your land, but MY land (from the government's point of view), then maybe kids would grow up with a different perspective of what our country should be. I remember singing the first two verses of that song (propaganda) in elementary school, oblivious to the truth. I think kids should know the truth. They need both sides of the story. And not just the truth about our relations with Indians, but our relations with all peoples. The line in the sand that divides US and THEM should be wiped out with Kit Carson's boot.

Why did we only sing the first two verses? What would happen if kids refused to sing just those verses, but would only sing the whole song, or nothing?

Or with the shoes of a billion schoolchildren.