
No extra notes this morning. A red-eye to Denver and then an early flight to Des Moines beckons, and I’ve other work to get to before heading to the airport. So stand ready! Here comes the Wednesday usual.
Now then…
Comments and observations on the traveling life.
Housekeeping notes: A week from today we’ll be flying to Iowa, leaving our house-sitters in place here, where we will spend a week with the entire Animal family at our annual Thanksgiving/Christmas family reunion. Posts will be scheduled for the balance of next week, and the week of the 27th will be taken up with some placeholder totty. Regular posts will resume Monday, Dec 4th.
Now then…
Before we start, check out Part II of Season of Ice over at Glibertarians!
Now then: This has happened, to one extent or another, to everyone who (like me) has traveled a lot. Excerpt:
My worst fear about flying isn’t crashing – it’s being stuck in a middle seat between two obese bodies. My nightmare happened to Sydney Watson. On an American Airlines flight from New York to Texas, Watson got stuck in the middle seat between two large bodies. She described it as being a human sardine. Instead of being encased in tin, Sydney was marinating in obesity.
Watson made the best of living my nightmare. She live-tweeted the experience. American Airlines was tagged by Sydney and it responded with a less-than-optimal answer.
Watson’s live-tweeting went viral. She was featured in several newspapers including the New York Post and The Guardian. Most of the journalists took the side of the unknown obese seat invaders. The Post described her comments as “offensive“. Apparently wanting to have 100% of the seat you purchased, is offensive. She had her share of anonymous threats and haters too. She took the road everyone should take when making a valid point. She didn’t apologize. She said she meant every word. Never apologize. All your apology will do is embolden the haters who will demand more and more until you are “canceled” or fired. The left doesn’t really want an apology anyway. They want blood. They want your head on a stick.
Now, the thing Sydney Watson did wrong was to take to Twitter on this matter, which guaranteed a race to the rhetorical bottom. Twitter is a snake pit that no sensible person should contemplate entering.
But her complaint is legitimate. For a while, the airlines were requiring grossly obese passengers to buy two seats. I’m not traveling as much as I did in the pre-‘vid days, but I’m still traveling some. Even so it’s been a while since I’ve encountered a massive fatty on an airliner. And my experience with airlines is almost wholly limited to United, with whom I have lifetime status. If this has stopped being the practice, I’m not sure when that happened.
And American Airlines’ response is as inadequate as Sydney Watson’s claim is legitimate. “Sorry, sucks to be you” is atrocious customer service. A pox on American for that horrible, dismissive reply.
If I pay for an airline seat, I expect to have the use of the seat. Not 50% of it, not 70% of it, all of it. And if a fellow passenger is taking up 180% of a seat, then they need to be charged for two seats. That’s all.
Life is full of little milestones, and sometimes some larger ones. Tomorrow morning, at around 8:00 AM, I will reach one of those more significant milestones: Sixty years of age.
Age sixty doesn’t carry quite the senior-citizen status it did a few years ago, although I am beginning to see some of the benefits of that status, in odd little things like breaks on theater ticket prices, the occasional ten percent off on senior days at the grocery, and so on. Probably the most significant of these benefits is a lifetime general hunting and fishing license here in our new Alaska home, which allows me to take a wide variety of fish, small and large game, and exempts me from the King salmon stamp and state waterfowl stamp requirements. That’s nice, but what’s a little more interesting, for me, is to look back on these last six decades. All in all, I’ve had a good time.
Not many folks are familiar with my birthplace: Oelwein, Iowa. The farm my parents were working at the time is gone now, having been absorbed into a wildlife refuge. I spent most of my youth in Blackhawk and Allamakee counties. But that’s just location.
I was fortunate in having strong, capable parents. My father and grandfathers, as fine a group of men as ever drew breath, taught me early on the things a man needs to know to be a man: Courage, determination, the value of education and, more than that, knowledge. The value of work. From all of them I learned what it was to maintain a rural home, to raise crops and stock, to hunt, to fish, to shoot straight, to build. The Old Man was also an artist of some repute, for years one of his paintings always was on display in his dedicated place in the Iowa state capitol.
My mother was the first to show me what unconditional love meant, and also that a woman can fill what was then the traditional home-making role while being tough and capable – certainly not oppressed by anyone. She was, as the Old Man would have admitted, a better angler than even he, and her knowledge of northeastern Iowa wildflowers was unmatched; botany professors from universities around the Midwest brought students to our Allamakee County home to have Mom escort them through our wooded hills and hear her describe the plants that grew there.
From that foundation I’ve moved through my life. My time in the Army changed me, as the Old Man, a World War Two veteran, and my paternal grandfather, a Great War veteran, said it would, in ways that people who have not served would not understand. That service also led me to the single greatest blessing of my life: My own dear Mrs. Animal, who I met during Operation Desert Storm.
The values learned in my youth served well in my civilian career: Hard work, perseverance, reliability. Moving into self-employment as an independent consultant re-enforced those attributes, and I have now spent over half my career as such, in contract work. Success in such depends on reliability; being known as the guy who can get the job done, on time if not ahead of time, on budget if not under budget. In the course of that career I’ve been to some interesting places: Japan, China, South Africa, Germany, Ireland, as well as all over Canada, Mexico and the United States. Some of those places (Japan) I came to love; others (China) I don’t care if I never see again. But I wouldn’t go back and change a thing; travel gives one a lot of perspective that may be gained in no other way.
Colorado was a great place to live when I moved there in the late Eighties, and Mrs. Animal and I loved our home there, the natural beauty that state holds, and we raised our family there. But as anyone who has long read these virtual pages are familiar with our unhappiness with the direction that state has taken as well as our ever-increasing love of the Great Land, and so as Americans have done since the Founding, we voted with our feet and made our home in Alaska, where we intend to spend the rest of our lives.
So, six decades.
I’ve always been the guy to look forward, not back. While this milestone is one of some significance, still, there is a lot to look forward to. In a few more years, retirement from my primary career will give me more time for other pursuits, writing, fishing, hunting, exploring the vastness of the Great Land. All with Mrs. Animal by my side, of course. We look forward to seeing our four daughters and (so far) six grandchildren continue down their own lives’ paths, and when possible, to welcome them as well as old friends to visit us in this place which is, for most, a once or twice in a lifetime vacation but, for us, is home.
It’s been a great ride so far. I’ll continue to push ahead as I always have; an intelligent person, after all, should be able to live a thousand years and never run out of things to do. As for me, I have every intention of living forever, and from my point of view, I will.
Hang in there, folks. You ain’t seen nothing yet.
I’ve been toying around some with “alternative” social media, mostly Parler and Gab, and I’m ready to give up on both. Here’s why:
First, Gab. The layout is generally OK and I like the “Groups” feature, but the “batshit-crazy” ratio is a little too high to suit me. Anyone who claims that aren’t nutbars on the Right just as there are on the Left clearly isn’t paying attention, although the Right doesn’t seem as willing to elect them to office. (But only just.)
Second, Parler. Parler was a little more sane, with again, a decent layout but no “groups” or sub-fora that I was able to find. But then Parler re-did their login procedure from an annoying “click every panel that contains a bicycle” CAPTCHA to the even-more-annoying “enter the code we sent to your cell phone.” I never provided them a phone number and refuse to do so, so now I’m not able to log in to Parler at all. Repeated requests to their customer service folks have gone unanswered.
So, by way of conclusion: Sure, we have alternatives to Derpbook and Twatter now. Big deal. I decided early on to ignore those platforms because the terrible noise-to-signal ratio, and from what I’ve seen, those two new alternatives are no better.
I hate discussion by bumper sticker, and I’ll be damned if I’ll engage in it. So, True Believers, I guess if you give a damn about my thoughts on anything, you’ll just have to come here Monday through Saturday and read them.
Well, for that and the occasional Rule Five imagery, too.
And so…
That guy in the Imperial Mansion continues to improve his impression of an actual potato.
Also: President Biden(‘s handlers) are off to a bad start. If you ask me, I’m guessing it’s gonna get worse. Maybe even worse than the Carter years.
Answers you didn’t want to questions you never asked.
Hard pounding, this. Let’s see who pounds longest.
Everybody’s different, but I sleep a lot better with my own dear Mrs. Animal beside me.
Some folks want to bring jaguars back to the United States. I doubt they’ll make it as far north as the Susitna Valley, so, meh.
Humans in apartment fire: “We are all gonna die!” Cat in apartment fire: “What’s this we shit, Kemosabe?”
I’m not a fan of “doxxing” anyone, but it is possible to push someone too far.
This kind of shit is why we left Colorado.
Good guy with gun stops bad guy with gun. Sad that one innocent person died, but many more could have if not for a good guy with a rifle, and if you look around, the legacy media is ignoring this. The Narrative must persist.
Dammit, Piers Morgan, stop making me agree with you!
The Nation’s John Nichols and Senator Chuck Schumer (Sanctimonious Prick – NY ) are both idiots.
Slate‘s Dahlia Lithwick is an idiot. Amazing how often her name pops up in this section.
Maxine Waters (Crazy Old Bat – CA) is an idiot as well as a serial abuser of government employees.
“Pothole Pete” Buttigieg is an idiot.
Apparently everyone at CNN are idiots.
The Squad’s Rep. Cori Bush is an idiot.
USAToday‘s Ross Wiener is an idiot.
There never will be another Frank Sinatra. Nobody since has even come close. While his fellow Rat Pack members were all possessed of tremendous talent, even in that company Mr. Sinatra stood out. Here, from 1966, is the Chairman, performing Luck, Be A Lady. Enjoy.
And finally, we wrap up this epic journey with details of the drive from Tok, Alaska, to our own new home in Willow!
We arose early to get a good start on the road, leaving the Alaska Highway at Tok and heading for Glennallen, there to take the Glennallen Highway for Palmer, Wasilla and home.
I was a bit surprised to not see a recreational marijuana shop in Tok. I mean, if there’s any place in Alaska that should have a now-legal pot shop, you would think it would be Tok.
There was a snag – when we got up on Tok, it was snowing. That’s hardly unusual in Alaska in March, mind you. There was a couple of inches down and we had some mountainous country yet to traverse. But we struck out, cautiously, slowly. We crawled over the snow-packed road to Glennallen, where we turned west for Chickaloon, Palmer, Wasilla and home. The roads slowly improved until, by the time we hit Palmer, things were wide open.
And then, finally, we pulled onto the Parks Highway, heading north for Willow and our new digs. We arrived at mid-afternoon, exhausted but happy, to begin our new life in the Great Land.
We’re home at last. After this tiring, exhausting, fascinating, beautiful and long, strange trip, we’re home at last, in Alaska.
Again, just some photos and notes today on our trip from Watson Lake, Yukon Territory to Tok, Alaska. Normal weekly links posts will be back next week.
It’s interesting to note that on the Alaska Highway you don’t cross the Continental Divide until well past Watson Lake, about 1/4 of the way across the Yukon Territory. We hit some heavy snow there, but that died quickly and we found ourselves with clear roads. But on this road the highway turns very rough from Destruction Bay to the American border. Today, we go from Tok, Alaska to our new home. Here are a few photos from the lovely country around Destruction Bay in the Yukon – enjoy!
Here are some details of our trip from Dawson Creek, British Columbia to Watson Lake, Yukon Territory. The next day’s target destination: Tok, Alaska!
It’s an interesting drive. Between Dawson Creek, BC and Fort Nelson, there are miles and miles of miles and miles. The terrain is mostly taiga, that great northern forest that encompasses the globe in the northern hemisphere. Between Fort Nelson and Watson Lake, Yukon Territory, where we spent last night, there is a mountain range and about five hundred miles of no internet connection, almost no gas stations and not much of anything else – besides rocks, trees, bison, elk, and a million other kinds of critters. It was a lovely drive; I hope one day to repeat it in nicer weather. Here are a couple of samples. More tomorrow!
Thanks as always to The Other McCainThe Other McCain, Pirate’s Cove, Whores and Ale and Bacon Time for the Rule Five links! No regular news post today, just some brief thoughts and an image from our trip from the Denver area to (so far) Dawson Creek, British Columbia.
We have a long ways to go yet, so brevity is the order of the day, I’m afraid. So far, in two days, we’ve spent almost twenty-eight hours in the truck. Saturday saw us from the Denver area all the way to Shelby, Montana, just a few miles short of the Canadian border. On Sunday, we crossed into Canada, spent two hours (!) at Customs establishing our bona fides, then drove as far as Dawson Creek, British Columbia, which has us at the southern terminus of the Alaska Highway. Tomorrow’s goal is Watson Lake in the Yukon, assuming we hit no bad weather or other delays it’s a long day but doable.
It’s an interesting drive, but the really interesting part is just beginning. Watch this space for more. Meanwhile, here’s a shot of the vast plains of Alberta. More tomorrow.
So, first, some housekeeping notes.
Later today, after I take care of some work chores, we’ll be loading our cargo trailer, packing up all of our remaining office equipment and supplies as well as what firearms and ammo I still have remaining in Colorado. In fact, we’ll be packing truck and trailer with probably a third to half of all the stuff we’ll be hauling from Colorado up to the Great Land.
Next, posts: Tomorrow we’ll have the Saturday Gingermageddon as usual. Next week, instead of placeholders while we’re on the road, I’ll probably post some photos of random, interesting scenery along the 3.200 mile trip. Normal posts should resume on either April 1 or April 2, unless we encounter some difficulty along the way.
Mrs. Animal and I always enjoy road trips. We have taken a lot of them together over the last thirty years or so, and we inevitably end up talking, planning and laughing the entire trip, just like a couple of kids. I guess we just enjoy being together, even (especially) after all this time, and given that this road trip is the penultimate act in the culmination of our twenty-plus year plans, it’s going to be even more fun.
And, of course, there’s the trip itself. About half of the drive is on the Alaska-Canada Highway itself, which we’ve wanted to drive for years. Problem is this: Canada is hurrying people through right now because of the ‘rona, so no time for sightseeing, and frankly this isn’t the best time for that anyway, not to mention we’ll be towing a trailer and have a canoe tied atop the truck, so not the best vehicle configuration, either. Not to worry; we have plenty of time, and we’ll plan to make the drive again sometime when we have time to sight-see.
Speaking of that drive, here’s how the itinerary looks, for any of you True Believers that might be curious as to how this works:
Day 1: Denver, Colorado to Shelby, Montana. Shelby is about twenty miles south of the Coutts, Alberta entry station into Canada. So in the morning we’ll want to get an early start to deal with the bureaucracy at the border.
Day 2: Shelby, Montana to Dawson Creek, British Columbia. Dawson Creek is where the Alaska Highway proper begins. I’ve done some reading about the town, and it seems like it would be a hell of a fun place to spend a few days, once the Kung Flu panic dies down.
Day 3: Dawson Creek, British Columbia to Watson Lake, Yukon Territory. This is where gas stations and so forth get thin on the ground, so it’s prudent to keep the tank topped up.
Day 4: Watson Lake, Yukon Territory to Tok, Alaska. Tok is where we leave the Alaska Highway, which continues (officially) to Delta Junction, while the highway continues up to Fairbanks. Now we’re back into the States, and officially into the Great Land!
Day 5: Tok, Alaska to our new home in Willow, Alaska. This involves a trip down the Glenallen Highway, which is a gorgeous drive, and then through Palmer and Wasilla to home.
It’s going to be interesting and exciting! Mrs. Animal will still have to fly back to Colorado to meet the movers to load the remaining stuff for the trip north, then to arrange for the Colorado house to be cleaned up and sold. Denver real estate is crazy right now, so we expect to do well on that deal. But when that’s done, she comes home, and we settle into our rural Alaska home for good.
So, stand by for news from the road!