![]() Michael and I exchanged an unspoken look and I knew we could not sit around waiting to be transferred from one police department to another. It showed his computer about a 30 minute drive from where we stood in the middle of Metropolitan Park. While chatting with an on-duty police officer on how to report the missing rucksack, Michael realized he could use his phone to locate his other Apple devices. Even when you intentionally put a red, white, and blue paracord wrap on it to prevent exactly that. A couple of people suggested it could be a case of a misidentified ruck - they do all look the same. We retraced steps, asked if anyone had seen a black GR1, and, more discreetly, wondered who could have possibly taken it. I mumbled something about having to act now before the window of finding lost items closed. The results were not good: he had been in and out of the green room where his bag was all day, it was black with a red, white, and blue paracord handle, and inside it was his computer with his life’s work including the latest draft of his new book, Scarcity Brain. He had left it in the green room while emceeing the Fit Talks in the WJCT station but when he went to get it, his rucksack was gone.Īt the risk of sounding overly maternal, I quizzed him on when he had last seen his rucksack, what it looked like, and what was inside it to determine the level of problem solving that needed to be engaged. ![]() We had left the inaugural Sandlot JAX fitness festival earlier than planned, right before the Silence & Light concert was about to begin. We were heading west on I-10 in the GORUCK Jeep that has no top and a spare tire cover that tells everyone behind it to “Embrace the Suck”. I said this looking over at Michael Easter, hunched over his phone, trying to get his Find My _ (insert any lost Apple product) to update. “We are literally driving off into the sunset to rescue your GR1.”
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