Okay, so last month my cousin Sandy told me I will be visiting her and her family in Juneau, Alaska, in July.
You see, Sandy and I are descended from a matrilineal tribe of Alaska injuns where women pretty much run the show. Tribal leaders are chosen from the female side of families in line of succession and arguing with Sandy is not a good career move. She also teaches karate. I tried to beg off in a weak ass way, saying I have emphysema (which I do), and was promptly informed that I could have emphysema in Juneau as easily as I could in Sacramento. She cemented the deal with a round trip ticket on Alaska Airlines, including wheelchair service and an order not to put on a Mr. Macho act and refuse the courtesy.
I did put on that act when changing planes at the Seattle-Tacoma airport -- and regretted it. The frapping airport passageway was 10 miles long and uphill in all directions, or so it seemed. Lesson learned. I ain’t no young tomato no mo and I requested wheelchair service for the Seattle to Juneau hop, knowing that me ‘n Alaska Airlines would catch triple Hell from Sandy if I showed up in Juneau wheezing along under my own power, such as it is.
I got back to the furnace heat of the Sacramento Valley last night after an altogether too brief stay of seven days amid the mountains of Southeastern Alaska, where forests of spruce, cedar and pine slope down to the dark emerald waters of the Inside Passage, where daytime temperatures hover in the 60 degree range and where formal evening wear consists of a reasonably clean Pendleton shirt.
Sandy and her husband, Keith, took me to a beach where flocks of eagles swoop for salmon and where tiny strawberries grow wild along the shore. The only sound was the hissing of waterfalls that had been centuries old glacier ice just hours before.
We had lunch at a Mexican restaurant, which I thought ironic for my first meal in Alaska, with Sandy, Keith, their 18-year-old son Kevin, and members of Keith’s family I was meeting for the first time. Sandy's reclusive Thoreauvian brother, another Mike, who lives on island instead of a pond, showed up too. Then we were off to a high school stadium where Keith and Sandy play on a softball team. Instead of parking me in the bleachers, Sandy got me a folding chair and a lap robe, which made me feel like the old fart I guess I’ve become. Their team is sponsored by a liquor store. Sandy’s idea of naming the team “The Juneau Lickers” was not met with wild approval, for some reason.
This trip was not my first rodeo, but it was one of the few times I did not want to come home.
Comments?
Glad you went and had fun! Alaska is the only state I have not visited and still hope to get there eventually. Why in the world would anyone not take advantage of a generous offer of a trip, etc., when it is offered in love? -- Eve
I hedged at first, as I did with a similar offer from relatives in Seattle last November, thinking of the cost of transportation, and not wanting to be burdensome on anyone’s finances, but was promptly put in my place. It now occurs to me that people who go out of their way not to be burdens can be the most burdensome of all when it comes to accepting the gift of grace; grace being defined in my Webster’s as “unconstrained and undeserved good will.” I am very, very fortunate to have the family I was given. Were it not for a state of grace, I would be writing them from prison with requests for cigarettes
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I do enjoy a good read by someone else on occasion, and I especially enjoy your rather good hand at it. -- Zoey
Thanks, Zoey. Instead of sending you a Wal*Mart gift card in appreciation for your nice comment, I’ve entered your name in the Publishers Clearinghouse sweepstakes.
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I love your blog and envy your trip to Alaska!!!!! -- Cyn
Cyn is a former Alaskan who lived in Juneau.
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Fabulous read! -- Julisari
Juli: I’ve always respected your intelligence and judgment. Got any nude pix?
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Well ...at first I thought you were a teenager writing, then you seemed to grow into a 25 to 35 year old, then I realized you were an old geezer like me and your writing made a lot more sense and it was much funnier, since it wasn't coming from a wise ass teenager. -- PlaceboDomingo
Yup. Just another old fart with an advanced case of arrested development.
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Wow, you make it sound so wonderful. Everyone I know who has gone to Alaska has raved about it. I hope i see it one day. -- Angel G.
It will change you.
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Very nice, Mike. The only thing was that I was the only one to vote against the softball team [ being named] Liquor in the Valley, but I had agreed I would adhere to majority vote. Someone of my station (Indian princess) would NEVER come up with a name like that. -- Sandy
Who am I to argue? Arguing with an Indian princess is not a good career move.
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Did you get to see the Northern Lights? -- Carol
Nope. The're not common at the latitude and time of year.
Well, Poop. -- Carol
Carol is a southern Californian who once saw the northern lights and has been looking for them ever since. The farthest south I've seen them was in Seattle in 1957, a sight so rare at that latitude that people set up lawn chairs outside to watch God's own light show, but I'm afraid if they appeared over Southern California, police switchboards would be jammed with panicked callers reporting UFO sightings. Plus every nutcase evangelical preacher south of Barkersfield would see them as an indication of End Times and really make a killing collecting cash donations and tithes from frightened sinners, proving that solar flares, like clouds, have a silver lining.
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So, you DID enjoy the trip, events, family ties and the scenery? -- Kent
Immensely.
