Howdy.
I’m back in
Anchorage today after a 30-hour failed effort to jump-seat home for Christmas.
I made it as far as
Seattle, in the cockpit of a 737. I spent a whole day there trying to get on a flight to anywhere that might have a connecting flight to
Kansas City.
Every flight was overbooked by at least 10.
Literally, the only flight I could catch out of
Seattle was back to
Anchorage.
I should mention that there was a remote chance that I could have made it to Chicago in the cockpit of another 737, but when the captain walked up, he was an heir to the insane company I worked for last summer. They threatened to sue the company that hired my co-workers and me last fall despite the fact that none of us were under contract to stay in Juneau for any specific period of time. Alas, even if there had ended up being room for me, I probably would have been kicked off the airplane as soon as the captain found out who I was.
So, smelly and bearded, I found my self in my own bed last night, resigned to the fact that this will be the first Christmas of my life not spent with family.
I’m not supposed to fly again for over a week. So I’m making a mental list of things I should do to keep from developing a twitch in the mean time. On the list:
Write blog post
Get ice skates sharpened
Ice skate
Record silly songs I’ve written in the last couple months
Send (late) Holiday cards
Study work stuff (possible drawback of inducing its own twitch...)
Return personal effects of ex-girlfriend (see drawback above)
Continue learning Ruby programming language.
Host/attend French movie night.
Clean out my car
So yeah. Some of these bear explanation.
First, this is the first time I’ve ever lived in a place cold enough to skate on lakes in the winter. So in search of cheap exercise and entertainment, I bought myself a pair of ice skates at Wal-Mart. They were the only pair of size 13 skates I could find in town. When, on my first trip to Westchester Lake, my legs kept trying to slide out and do the splits, I thought I was just a terrible skater. Then someone saw my skates and told me that I was a terrible skater AND my skates could stand to be sharpened.
Adam’s Secret Recipe For Making Friends in a New Town:
When I was doing aerial mapping, I learned one very important thing: If you become a regular in a place where like minded people gather, you won’t be able to avoid making friends. It’s like going to church without all that messy religious stuff. (You can just kind of assume that everyone’s a pervert. You don’t have to find out on your internet news service.)
Step one: Become a regular at the open-mic-night hosted by a happenin’ establishment
downtown. The one I’ve found here is a really good time. The MC is a sort of local celebrity, super nice guy, and extremely talented singer and song-writer, Jared Woods. Most people who perform there are pretty talented, though. You’ve got your Norah Jones (except with a banjo). You’ve got your Joplin. You’ve got your Cash and Dylon. On a slow night, you’ve got your drunk guy (the one who’s not just there on open mic night) doing an a cappella Beatles tune, offering $3.00 to whoever can name the original artist. Hearing what others are writing has really inspired me to write more. And the feedback that I’ve gotten from people who actually listen has been really helpful and encouraging.
Dude. There’s a hunched over, bearded guy sitting next to me at the coffee shop who’s talking to (or at least thinks he’s talking to) the FBI on his cell phone. He thinks terrorists accidentally sent him a coded email about a planned attack in Alaska on January 3, 2007. He can’t figure out how to forward the email to the authorities, so he’s reading it aloud over the phone. Some of it is in French but he doesn’t know that. “Less ducks marks,” he said. Then he spells it out, “L-E-S D-E-U-X M-A-R-Q-U-E-S” This totally beats blogging at home.
Step two: Find a coffee shop with internet. Become a regular there. In addition to the crazies like the one I just mentioned and good ol’ Errol from Wisconsin, sometimes when the place is packed, a couple of girls will walk by looking for a table and speaking French. Offer (in French) to share your table. They will accept, and tell you that they will soon be joined by many more francophones for their weekly game of French Scrabble. Become a regular at the French Scrabble game. Results may vary. Some such groups are associated with universities and won’t meet during the winter break. In this case, plan a movie night.
