Sometimes I am amazed at how things connect in life. When that happens I realize that life is truly mysterious and, at times, surprising. I am reminded of the day my good friend Mooker G. Tondouri came into my office at Western Illinois University and asked, “Where do we find ourselves?”

When I didn’t answer, he said, “We find ourselves in the midst of a vast and intricate mystery, and we must be alert for strange, surprising connections.” Mooker’s wisdom has stayed with me, and the latest example of strange connections occurred when Mary and I were watching an episode of the TV program “48 Hours Hard Evidence.” I enjoy “Dateline Mysteries” and “Forensic Files” much more than the various police and crime dramas that seem prolific these days. Sometimes, however, I find myself longing for a cowboy show like “Rawhide” or “Bonanza.”

This particular episode of the “48 Hours Hard Evidence” was about a con man who passed himself off as Chris Chichester. He succeeded in impressing upper class people in California and had ingratiated himself into the good graces of a wealthy widow, her son, and the son’s wife. Chichester actually lived in a small guest house on the widow’s property. The widow’s son and his wife disappeared and apparently had vanished, and Chichester left for a new con game. Then after a few years he surfaced in the east with a new name. This time he was Clark Rockefeller. The amazing thing was that there were actually Rockefellers in the church and they accepted this ersatz Rockefeller without question. I should add that this con man seemed to have real class and charm, the kind of manners that one associates with a wealthy Rockefeller or a British person of royalty, thus illustrating Mark Twain’s point that Americans can be fooled by any foreigner who has the trappings of aristocratic society.

This fake Rockefeller was tripped up when people who bought the widow’s property dug up the ground to build a swimming pool and discovered the body of the widow’s son. The wife’s body was never found. With some outstanding forensic work, the police arrested Chichester and charged him with murder. He couldn’t fool the jury, and he was convicted.

Now here is the strange part. Chris Chichester turned out to be Christian Gerhartstreiter, who came to America from Germany when he was in his teens. In an interview he maintained his innocence and swore that one day he would be exonerated. He did offer an explanation for his life as a con man. He likened himself to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s character The Great Gatsby, but then went on to confess that he was greedy and that his real role model was Thurston Howell, III, on the TV show “Gilligan’s Island.” I could not believe my ears when he praised “Gilligan’s Island” as a modern day version of Dante’s “Inferno.”

I sat there dumfounded as Gerhartstreiter explained that “Gilligan’s Island” was really a story about the Seven Deadly Sins. There are seven people trapped on the island, and each one represents a deadly sin. The Skipper is gluttony; Gilligan is laziness; the Professor is pride; Thurston Howell, III, is greed; Ginger Grant is lust; Mary Ann is envy; and Mrs. Howell is indignation. As I listened, I concluded that Chichester was brilliant. No wonder “Gilligan’s Island” was so popular for so many years. The show really is a modern version of Hell. Just as the sinners are trapped forever in Dante’s “Inferno,” the seven castaways are caught in a modern Hell. If he had thought a bit more, Gerhartstreiter could have made another connection: Sartre’s play “No Exit” concludes with the message that Hell is other people.

At about the same time, a friend sent me, via email, one of Dave Barry’s humor columns. Barry suggests that students being examined about Herman Melville’s novel “Moby-Dick” should not write that the book is about a huge white whale. Instead they should explain that the white whale is actually Northern Ireland. Then the professor will be impressed with the students’ originality, reward them with a high grade, and suggest that they major in English.

These amazing connections enabled me to draw some important conclusions. First, it is now clear to me why I struggled as an English major. Second, I understand Boone Fowler’s belief that life is a borderless 1,000 piece picture puzzle with important pieces missing. Third, I appreciate the philosophy of Molly Turgent, Goddess of the Electric Griddle at Mom’s Family Restaurant, which posits that life is really a challenge of connecting the dots. Then there is Mooker G. Tondouri’s mystical connections theory. Who is correct? The wisdom of Mark Twain in “Huck Finn” is helpful here: “You pays your money and you takes your choice.”