I regret to inform you, but the deadline for winning A Day of Falconry with RFK Jr. was December 31st, 2023 – //www.kennedy24.com/falcon-sweepstakes

Likely, you missed it.

You missed a chance to win a day hanging out with Robert F. Kennedy and his falcon.

What?

Come again?

Say what?

That’s right. You missed a day to hang out and do some falconry. With RFK, Jr.

It’s a fundraiser for his presidential campaign.

Just a bunch of friends doing falcon-y things for an afternoon.

I like this because it is attention grabbing, but once the dust settles and you put your hat back on, you realize it’s a little tame.

I mean, if Joe Biden offered a morning of sloth petting, what exactly would you think?

If Donald Trump offered an evening of monkey wrastling, would you pay any mind?

It’s actually too tame.

It’s not far enough out there.

It’s not exaggerated enough.

I know he’s trying to “project” this Uber masculine brand. Falcons and push-ups.

But if I were advising him, I’d tell him to ditch the falcons. They have less personality than he does.

For sure, they’re strong and top of the food chain. They’re respected and regal.

But they’re also kind of boring.

If I were advising him, here’s what I’d tell him.

Bobert, you need to roll-up in a big shiny UFO.

Door opens and a ray of pristine white light beams down.

And you roll out, cowboy hat on, hanging off a growling Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Now that there is a fundraiser.

Blow the sloth and the monkeys out of the water.

Leave the falcon far behind.

You see, part of the problem these days with any politician is they aren’t far enough themselves.

Every move, every word, every piece of clothing is selected based on polling, based on what the people want.

Screw the people.

The people don’t know what they want till they get it.

And sometimes that thing is completely new, an idea so far out they never could’ve thought of it.

RFK is trying, with the falcon. But it’s a little out of touch.

And again, it’s boring.

You’d only be preaching to the falcon choir.

This is the perfect opportunity to make a big splash. Gain some attention. Turn some heads.

This just doesn’t work for politics. It works in business. It works in relationships. It works everywhere.

I’m not saying you need to be constantly waving your freak falcon around. But from time to time, letting people know who you really are, being memorably yourself is so much better than dropping a bunch of corporate speak or just telling people what they want to hear.

You become memorable not by trying to be memorable. You become memorable by being unabashedly yourself.

So drop out of the sky from a UAP into your next meeting and cut out early feed your T-Rex. Well, if that’s your thing.

If this kind of talk makes you queasy or scared of what people think, well then maybe you should head on over back to your falconry club and where you can act all falconry without fear of reprisal.

Everyone else, keep your eyes peeled for what’s coming next. It ain’t falcons, I promise.

I have to travel for business later this month. It’s been years since I’ve flown. 

I hate flying. 

It’s not so much that I’m scared of flying. It is natural to fear falling out of the sky. It’s moreso that im uncomfortable flying. 

One trip my wife and I took, I don’t remember where but she was flying a lot and for that reason was able to board the plane (with me in tow) first. 

Like that’s some kind of privilege. Hint: it’s not for me. 

I remember sitting there, hood on my blue hoodie pulled up way over my eyes, headphones on with some kind of supposedly relaxing binaural beats blaring and a growing sense of claustrophobia as people piled themselves and their stuff into this little metal tube. 

I hate flying. 

To add, I hate the little tray in its resting position. I never lower it. I don’t get a drink because I don’t want to have to pee and get up. I don’t get any food because honestly, missing a meal on a plane is not a big deal unless you’re 4 years old. 

Meanwhile, sitting next to me, my wonderful wife is munching on snacks, sipping a glass of wine and laughing at a movie on the screen. 

Next to her, I’m curled up into a human beanbag chair doing one thing. Waiting. Waiting for it to all be over. 

Eventually, I get a doctor to prescribe me some light stuff to take the edge off. And also develop a few psychological tricks so I don’t even need any pills. 

But still. 

I hate it. I’d rather never do it. 

But still, I have to. 

So I had a billion dollar idea. An Elon Musk game-changing approach to air travel. 

It came to me a few months ago after I had a very super minor procedure done in a surgical center. 

I mentioned to the nurse that I was anxious and she told the anesthesiologist and he said don’t worry, will give you something for that. 

I don’t think I realized it would be the anesthesia. My wife kept telling me that the countdown from 10 to 1 while the knockout meds kicked in would be the most pleasant part of the day. I’ve never been under. 

So they’re wheeling me into surgery, and the anesthesiologist gives me a shot of something to take care of the anxiety. 

He says, “Feel any better?”

And I’m like no, not really. 

He tells me I’ll feel better by the time we get to the second door. 

As we’re rolling past Door Number 2, he asks again. 

I say three words.

Where’s the party? 

I don’t remember anything else. When I come too, I think I was so hopped up on the feel good drug he gave me that I don’t even remember the anesthesia. Someone has to explain to me that was the anesthesia. 

Which brings me to my point on all this. 

A lot of people (the Stoics annoyingly so) say it’s not the event that’s ever a problem. It’s your reaction. 

And I agree wholeheartedly. I think a good approach is always to have a “we can handle this” type of mindset. And there are some tricks to this, I write a bunch about that in The Guide to Armchair Thrills coming out later this year, in addition to a boatload of other secrets for enjoying life to the fullest, from the comfort of your armchair, sitting in the safety of your home fortress. And maybe even in those rare occasions when you have to leave. 

But what struck me so dramatically was how much of that “reaction” to events is based on the chemical soup floating around your head. 

Change the chemicals, change your reaction. 

Also, it works the other way too. Change the reaction and change the chemicals. There is a simple rule for knowing when to take which approach. 

Which is all to say, here is my billion dollar idea. No NDA needed. If you want it take it. Might be a little too crazy for even Elon. 

But if you like this idea, I believe it could revolutionize all kinds of travel. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is how humans travel long distances 10 years from now. 

It solves the problem of feeling claustrophobic, of dealing with any bad actors. Terrorism during mass transit would be a thing of the past. 

The answer you’re dying to know?

Put people under anesthesia before flying (or any other long travel). Use AI to monitor vitals. 

It looks like this – you show up at the airport, you check-in, you check your bags. 

Then you lay down on a stretcher. 

A nice guy or gal comes along, gives you the happy shot and you wake up what feels like 5 seconds later in your hotel, at your destination city with your clothes all unpacked and in the drawers. 

And should anything happen on the plane, something catastrophic, you won’t be fumbling with your tray, spilling your coke in the tiny plastic cup while trying to fasten your oxygen mask. No, you’ll be peacefully asleep and never know any better. 

I told a friend this idea and he called it consensual human trafficking. Not a name or topic you should use when you talk to The Sharks, but you get the point. 

You take the best part of surgery and you mix it with the worst part traveling and BAM, you got yourself a billion dollar idea. 

Anesthesia shouldn’t just be for surgeries and creepy eccentric dead pop stars. It should also be for the rest of us jebronies looking for pain-free travel. 

For more billion dollar ideas, keep an eye out here. 

And don’t forget to tell Marky C. I said what’sup. 

The last two days, while feeding my daughter, I’ve been watching Invincible on Amazon Prime. I wanted to watch it in my home theater, on the big screen on my Oculus Quest 2, but couldn’t wait. 

I was a big fan of the comics. I remember reading through dozens of comics when it was slow at a previous job a long time ago. 

At one point, when the title character flew I thought to myself, I want super powers. When he called himself Invincible for the first time, I thought to myself that I wanted to be Invincible. 

Is it possible to be superhuman, to be Invincible? A lot of my life has circled around learning things like magic tricks, endurance stunts, meditation, memory techniques, breathing exercises, brain wave training, yoga etc. with the hopes that maybe I could have superpowers, become Invinicble. 

But maybe the secret is right there in the language? Be Invincible. Be Superhuman. 

What if you just declared you were Invincible? That you had Powers? I’m definitely not saying you would actually have those things, but you would come from a place where you felt like you did. And maybe that could open up new possibilities, new worlds different from coming from, for example, being fearful or being not enough. 

We don’t behave in accordance with reality. If we did there would never be any disagreements in the world. We’d all agree on everything and there would be only one or two books of agreed on information. We know this is not true. We respond to the stories we believe and make-up about the world. 

So, if you declare yourself Invincible how would that make you feel? It might make you feel Invincible! Watch out floors that need to be mopped and laundry that needs to be done! Ain’t nothing stopping me now. Just for chores alone, that declaration could change your entire experience of life. 

And if you declared it enough times, your life would begin to rearrange itself to support that declaration. And you would feel Invincible. Not like you should run into burning buildings or try to fly. But just like a place to come from. 

I believe that Superhero movies and tv shows are so popular because when we watch we get a sense of what it  feels like to have superpowers. To be Invincible. And I’m saying it doesn’t have to end when the movie is over. You can bring that out into the world. 

You might not be able to fly, but it might give you the push to do a few more push-ups than you’d normally do. Or walk an extra block with the dog. If you had to pick a story to react to, being Invincible isn’t the worst choice. 

And the show is pretty good too. 

I’m playing around with the idea that there are only two things in the world. Nothing and words. 

When I say playing around with, what I mean is I don’t necessarily believe this is the absolute truth, I just think it might be a useful place to come from. 

Nothing is a beautiful experience. It’s like being in the flow, no thoughts and pure presence. A kind of glorious emptiness. Acceptance. Love. Reality as it is. Simple and real and free from judgement or opinion.

Nothing is not a big deal. This experience is not new or revolutionary. Everyone has experienced it. The thing is being able to experience it not just while watching a beautiful sunset or staring into the eyes of the one you love, but to bring that experience (really non-experience if you want to get technical) to everything you do. You stand from nothing in the background, like a blank sheet of paper….and then on that blank sheet you can create possibilities or stories.

And the pencil you use to draw on that sheet of paper is language. It’s not that you can start creating your life from language. It is that you already are and you can become aware of it and do it with more intention. You don’t have to live in the stories you inherited or adopted a long time ago. You can make something new up. It’s all made up anyway.

Let me say that again because it’s so important. You are already using language to shape and mold your experience of life. Once you become aware, you can start to steer the car back onto the road and in the direction you want to go. You can do this at any time. And the other big secret key is that you can’t just set it and forget it. You can’t go on autopilot, or you’ll just wind up in the same spot. You have to consciously keep creating the story or you risk falling back into a story that might not work or be what you want.

So for nothing and language, these are not new things. You have a lot of experience with both of them. The trick is to have awareness and then to practice over and over again so you can exercise some control over the process. It’s not big deal, it’s just your life that’s at stake.

In the coming days, we’ll talk a little bit more about exactly how to access nothing and language and how to practice so that it becomes possible that your entire life becomes a canvas to create something new and fun and worth living. NBD.

I didn’t know this until after the fact. But when I had moved home after college my grandfather’s ghost haunted my mom and my sister. 

We were on different schedules, I was working late nights in a restaurant and was sleeping late. So we rarely had meals together and when I wasn’t working I was often out and about, at the library, hiking or off with friends. 

My sister tells about being woken up and smelling my grandfather’s scent. Old guy swirled with old cigarette smoke. My mom confirms this. 

They would both smell it in the middle of the night. My grandfather checking on them. Giving them a sign he was there with us, always. 

I guess it beats silverware flying out of cabinets or bloody messages scrawled on mirrors. But in truth, I probably would’ve preferred those. 

My grandfather was a notorious and prolific smoker. He would go outside every few hours, if it rained he was allowed to smoke at the edge of our garage with the door up. No one in our family smoked and it was not allowed in the house. 

The most I ever saw my grandfather smoke was on a ride home from the airport. Our family was living in California and we had flown back to NJ for a few months to visit with grandparents for the summer. My mom and dad and brother and sister went with my other grandparents. But my grandfather and grandmother had divorced before I was born. He was there by himself and I didn’t want him driving alone. So I went with him. 

He was always the cool and tough grandfather. He had tattoos up and down his forearms from the army. He would greet me with a karate chop. When someone said something he didn’t agree with, he would spin his forefinger and point it up into the air. I’m not sure what that means, but I never took it as a sign of friendly agreement. 

But on this night I saw his tough demeanor fall away. On the way home from the airport, he took a wrong turn and we got stuck in traffic due to construction. We sat there, not moving as the hours ticked by. The airport was only 20 minutes from my grandparents house where we were staying and we all left at the same time. 

So while we sat in traffic, my parents and grandparents were frantically driving up and down the route from the airport looking for signs of us, praying we weren’t off the side of the road in an accident. This was long before cell phones so we had no way of communicating to my parents what had happened or where we were. 

After we hadn’t shown up in an hour they called the police department. They called hospitals. My grandfather was known for driving fast. He was always getting speeding tickets so that probably didn’t ease anyone’s nerves. There was no sign of us anywhere. We had vanished off the face of the earth for those few hours. 

Meanwhile, back in the car I remember him smoking cigarette after cigarette, ashing them in the silver ashtray under the radio with the windows rolled down. And he kept saying over and over again, “Your grandmother is going to kill me. “ He was still very much afraid of my grandmother who he had divorced a decade ago. 

Eventually we made it home. There were grateful hugs. And yes my grandmother did yell at him, there was no getting out of that. But it didn’t last long and everyone was just happy nothing terrible had happened to us. 

Decades later, he roamed the hallways of our house late at night. I guess he finally felt we were safe and moved on because eventually my mom and sister stopped having the visits. 

What my mom and sister didn’t know is that I would have a cigarette or two or three after work. That I was coming home in the middle of the night after my restaurant shift, probably smelling of smoke. That I was probably the ghost they were smelling. When we talked about it years later we all laughed. I was the ghost. 

But maybe there is another possibility. Maybe he was there making sure I got home safely, like he had so many years ago. And maybe when I left my parent’s house he came with me to keep an eye on things. 

So sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night, and I hear creaking I know it’s my grandfather done doing his rounds for the night and  heading to the garage to have a smoke. 

I came about 9 years too late to the game of searching for Forrest Fenn’s Treasure. Sometime around 10 years ago an eccentric art dealer named Forrest Fenn’s hid a treasure somewhere in the Rocky Mountains with the goal of getting families and kids off the couch and into the wild. 

He published a book that contained a poem that if solved correctly would lead to the treasure hiding spot. The book was called the Thrill of The Chase – and Forrest had hoped people would enjoy hunting for his treasure.

9 years later, it was still sitting in the woods somewhere waiting for someone to find it. So I figured I might have as good a chance as anyone. After 9 years someone must’ve solved at least a few of the 9 clues hidden in the poem. There had to be some consensus on the solution to at least a few of the first clues. My approach would be to analyze the solutions that had come before, figure out where they went wrong and solve the poem. My strengths don’t lie at breaking codes or deciphering poems, but I’m good at looking at the big picture and finding flaws and coming up with new possibilities. 

To my surprise, there wasn’t any kind of consensus on the solution to the first clue. That first clue is – Begin it where warm waters halt.

Forrest had narrowed down the search to 4 states – New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming and Montana. But that didn’t help. People posted convincing solves in all 4 states, usually after they had gone on unsuccessful BOTG, searcher community acronym for Boots On The Ground, meaning actually getting off your couch and searching in the mountains for the chest.

So I spent months pouring through other people’s solves, trying to get a sense of discoveries that had come before. So many people were convinced of their solves, and were also very convincing. There was some great thinking behind many of the solves. On the other hand, there were also some insane theories involving codes and other forms of complexity that seemed way out there. 

The problem as I saw it was that there was zero feedback. So you had to take a leap of faith until you found the treasure. The only positive feedback you were on the right track was the treasure. Not only did you have to figure out where to start, but you’d also have to correctly figure out 9 clues with no way of knowing you were correct. This is a formula for confirmation bias.

Immediately I knew that the only way to get close would be to narrow down the starting point. Solve WWWH – another searcher acronym for Where Warm Waters Halt. 

There are many places where warm waters halt in the Rocky Mountains. How could you know where to start, with such a vague first clue? But that was the goal, at least start in the right place with confidence. Without confidence in that first clue you would just be wasting your time. 

So this is where my journey began. I spent 6 months pouring over the poem, searching through blogs and forums. Someone had to have successfully solved the first clue by now. Forrest had even confirmed as much, saying searchers early on in the chase had found the first two clues and went right past the treasure, likely because they didn’t successfully solve the following clues.  

The second clue was – Take it in the Canyon Down. Again, way too vague to have any kind of certainty without knowing the solution to the first clue. What was certain was that after you found the correct WWWH, there would be a canyon right there. And again, there are way too many canyons in the Rocky Mountains for this clue to be helpful in any way. You might be able to eliminate some WWWH that didn’t have a canyon right there, but that wouldn’t help you with WWWH that did have canyons nearby.

This realization caused me to back up even from the first clue. There had to be a way for the poem to tell you where to start. Exactly where to start. And then from there you could narrow down the place Forrest had intended you to begin your journey by finding WWWH. This seemed like the only way to proceed with any kind of confidence. 

Before we get to how I went about solving WWWH – it’s important to mention a few things. Forrest has confirmed several hints after publishing the poem. The first is that the poem contains 9 clues, though he doesn’t state which lines are clues. The second, and probably the most important hint is that he has confirmed the line Begin It Where Warm Waters Halt is for sure the first clue. 

But that first clue doesn’t appear until the second stanza of the poem. If that is the first clue, wouldn’t you start the poem with that line? Why would you include something before the first clue?

Well one reason would be that the first stanza contains a hint. Another distinction Forrest has made. A clue gets you closer to the treasure. A hint is something that helps you figure a clue out. He has said that there are a few hints in his book The Thrill of the Chase, but has been mum on what those clues are except to say they are hidden in aberrations. We can talk later about some of those aberrations and what they may mean. 

Back to the first stanza, here it is:

As I have gone alone in there

And with my treasures bold,

I can keep my secret where,

And hint of riches new and old.

Taking the approach that there is a hint that would lead you to the general area, I poured over the first stanza over and over again. Forrest advised reading the book and then reading the poem over and over again. As if there was something in the reading of it that might contain a clue.

I honed in on another Forrest quote – at one time he had stated that a few searchers were in tight focus with a word that was key. That always seemed like a strange twist of words. If I were to say something like that, I might use the term keyword rather than “word that is key.” And maybe the phrase “tight focus” was also a clue?

I read the book, and read the poem over and over again. I searched the forums and the blogs for any hints that others had discovered. Nothing. I read up on solves in all 4 states. Sometimes I would read a solve that sounded really good, like the searcher was definitely on the right track. Then I would read another solve, in a different state that was equally convincing. 

The problem was without that positive feedback loop, it was all confirmation bias. Without confidence of at least the starting point, there was just no way of knowing anyone was on the right track without actually having the treasure in hand. And the likelihood of anyone getting that far by guessing at the solution to 9 consecutive clues was unlikely in my opinion. 

After 6 months of spending many nights lying on my couch researching, reading and thinking while my wife watched TV, I was about to throw in the towel and move on to another way to spend my free time. I never thought any of the time I spent was a waste, because I really enjoyed trying to figure out this puzzle and there was always the possibility of figuring it out, flying out West one weekend and finding a treasure chest filled with gold. Highly unlikely, but still a possibility.

At some point though, I wasn’t making much progress and considered throwing the towel in. Then something wonderful happened. I got my Eureka! Moment. I was Googling places in Montana. Forrest had mentioned in his book having a map of Gallatin Forest in one of his adventures when he was younger. I was searching areas around there, saw Gallatin Canyon. This was located on the outskirts of Yellowstone, another place Forrest has written fondly about. 

I Googled Gallatin County. You should do it now too. Does anything pop out? Something very strange popped out at me and suddenly I was very far from throwing in the towel again. I was back in The Chase.

Spolier alert. If you haven’t already Googled Gallatin County and looked through the images of it, I’m going to spoil the surprise. Gallatin County, a place that Forrest has written about and definitely spent time in, is shaped distinctively like a key.

Some searchers are in tight focus with a word that is key…

The rush was amazing. Was this the starting place Forrest had been pointing us to? Are you supposed to find the place where warm waters halt somewhere in Gallatin County and go from there?

Although I felt the rush of an Aha moment, I wasn’t so sure. It could fit perfectly with Forrest’s quote about being in tight focus with a word that is key (Gallatin is literally shaped like a key) but how would you ever get that from the first stanza, or even anywhere else in the poem. If Forrest had intended the poem to be able to direct you to the exact location of the hiding spot, then Gallatin would have to be hinted at in the poem. And it just wasn’t.

The comedown after realizing I’d been bitten by the radioactive confirmation bias spider was tough. I was definitely bummed out and didn’t feel like I was any closer to cracking WWWH after 6 months of steady research, reading and thinking. I searched around the area on Google Maps and there were definitely some interesting place names in the area but none that could be considered a likely candidate for WWWH, especially around the canyon. 

One thing that did stand out was the name of this area on Google. It was called the Middle Basin. The Thrill of the Chase had a chapter titled Me in the Middle. Was this another hint to The Middle Basin and Gallatin?

Nah, too much of a stretch. Certainly not enough proof to nail down WWWH, especially since there was no obvious place in this area. The possibility still lingered but I had to let it go.

A bit dejected and feeling like this was my last go before finally giving up and moving on with my life I went back to the poem. I liked my notion that somehow the general area could be figured out in the first stanza. It made sense, and after all with no feedback you have to take a few leaps of faith, with the hopes that you can eventually back it up with evidence. 

I studied the first stanza over and over again. I looked for meaning. I looked for hidden meaning. Then I read it out loud. And what I discovered almost knocked me out of my chair. 

As I’ve gone alone in there and with my treasures……

Do you see what I see? I found something that just could not be any kind of coincidence at this point. And it fit in perfectly with Forrest’s “tight focus on a word that is key” quote.

Maybe I’d gone off the deep end and was starting to see patterns that weren’t there? Or maybe I was one of the few that had finally become in tight focus. I immediately searched the blogs with my discovery. And sure enough, I was not the only one. I found a poster who had posted my exact same discovery and another poster named Zap seemed to get irritated with him for spilling the beans on an open forum. I started researching Zap’s posts and appreciated his analytical approach to the poem. He had converted Forrest’s books into a searchable database on his computer so he could look for patterns of words and statistical anomalies. He seemed to be honing in on what he thought was the final hidey spot.

And he had also found the same hint that I had in the first stanza. Let’s look at it again, with a little more focus:

As I have Gone ALone In There

ANd With My Treasures bold,

I can keep my secret where,

And hint of riches new and old.

If you’re in the right kind of focus, you can almost see Gallatin being coded in the first letters of the first few words of the poem. Had I gone nuts? Look at the other letters bolded after Gallatin. As an extra convincer that you’ve found the right word, the letters directly after Gallatin are W MT. Short for West Montana. Come on! How can that be a coincidence?? It’s not like Gallatin is a common word that could be found anywhere. It is a very distinct word, with a distinct spelling. And that word happens to point to a county that is shaped like a key. And yeah, this place is in West Montana. 

I just about fell off my couch. The validation was that others had also found this and thought it could be important. The confidence was building. And just to add to the confirmation, you can also find GAL later on in the poem, followed by MT – just to key you in that you’re on the right track but not an exact duplication to make it so obvious. Wow, just wow. 

But if this was true, then where do you Begin It? Where does Warm Water Halt?

Forrest has said multiple times to look at the big picture. I thought the entire poem would unravel once I found WWWH. It took me a month to discover the obvious solution. Look at the big picture. What is the big picture of where warm waters halt in this area?

Yellowstone! Duh. Warm water literally stops at Yellowstone, and you take Gallatin Canyon down 191. Wow, two clues solved like that. The rest of the poem should be unraveling in no time. I just knew I’d be booking a ticket out to Montana soon for a long weekend of clomping around the canyon. 

Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think I was going to actually find the treasure. I was happy to have just cracked a few clues and I definitely wanted to go out there and feel the mountain breeze while I searched for a treasure. I started calling up friends to recruit for the long weekend. Because my wife was convinced if I went into the mountains alone I would die in minutes.

I never got a chance to book my trip. My wife got pregnant just as the pandemic was beginning. And oh yeah, the pandemic. Travel was out of the question unless I was going to drive to Montana and that would just take too long to be away from her. I mean, if I had an end-to-end solve and I could convince her that there was a possibility of coming home with a million dollar treasure without dying, then I might have some bargaining leverage. But the possibility of me going out there and not coming back with a treasure combined with a 90% chance that I’d die by bear or just sheer city slicker stupidity, the chances of treasure hunting in 2020 were slim. 

One day in June of 2020, my wife and I put down an offer on a wonderful home and it was accepted. It was a long day of negotiations and I remember laying on the couch, about to do a little treasure hunting from my phone. That’s when I saw the email from one of the popular blogs. The treasure had been found. The excitement of buying a new house was drowned out by the depression of lost possibilities. Besides, what would I read on the couch for hours on end?

This meant I would never have a chance to be eaten alive by bears on a long weekend. It was over. Someone had beaten me to the Gallatin Canyon. It was inevitable, I did have a late start but it hurt all the same, in a way that I had not expected. The Chase was over. 

Oh yeah, and there was one other thing. Although the solve and final hidey spot have not been revealed and may never be, Forrest and The Finder decided to reveal the state it was found in to give some searchers a form of closure. 

It was announced that the treasure had been found in Wyoming. 

To Be Continued…….

Anything you can create, like a joke or a story or a drawing. If you do it right, that thing can contain a little landmine of happiness.

Once someone hears the punchline of the joke or gets to the end of the story or their eye registers the drawing – at that precise moment you have the power to hide a little bomb of joy.

You don’t have to do these things. But why wouldn’t you reward people who like and consume your stuff with this treasure. It’s like the cheese at the end of a maze.

In all that I do – writing, performing, occasional bits of astonishment, comedy writing, standup – at the very core of it all is to reach out to another human being and give them a pat on the back.

You are not alone.

We are not alone.

Is there any better pleasure than to know that your words and work are making people happy for years to come?

So be a terrorist of happiness. Surprise people by making them happy, telling stories that make them smile and laugh.

Failing all that, just be a good human.