Month: January 2004

  • See Alaska and Die


    In a recent blog, I mentioned in passing sort of an interesting way to die, which involved a small car and a big moose.  That is, you collide with a moose on the highway and basically get smushed under a ton or so of bleeding protein on the hoof.  There are, of course–this being Alaska and all–many other unusual ways to die, some of which involve our local critters, customs, and/or geographical features.  And pretty nearly all of them involve either sheer stupidity or just plain bad luck.  Or sometimes, a combination of both.


    For instance, every year, a few carefree skiers or snowboarders get avalanched to death, swept up in and buried under tons of snow.  Maybe they suffocate, maybe they succumb to hypothermia. In any case, they are history.  Some of this is bad luck, but a lot of it is stupidity, since  in most of the cases I have read about, the “victims” ignored avalanche warnings.


    Next, take snowmachiners.  Please.  I hate them–they routinely trespass on private property, run their infernal machines illegally on public roadways, hassle wildlife, and inevitably fill the air with noise and poison.  According to the National Parks and Recreation Association, a single  two-cycle snowmachine puts out as much air pollution as 1,700 California-legal new cars.  In the Bush, a snowmachine is often a necessary evil, as there are few other transportation options in winter–here in the relatively populous valley, they are much more evil than necessary.  Just the other day I saw a few of these recreational morons, zipping up and down along the highway on their chainsaws with runners, wasting gas, making noise, and bothering local primates and ungulates alike.


    Last year, we set a record for snowmachine-related deaths.  Some of them were due to  breaking through thin ice on lakes.  Others crashed into rocks, trees, light poles at service stations, or moose.  In many cases–surprise surprise!–the snowmachiners were drunk.  We call this “thinning the herd”–and we don’t mean the moose.


    Other visitors run afoul of wildlife.  About seven years ago, a trio of vacationers–two primates and a small canid–were in Homer, getting their RV gassed up.  The canid–a miniature poodle, to be precise–attracted the attention of a local bald eagle, who swooped down and in one fell swoop, snatched up the hapless lap-yapper.  The female primate, an elderly one, went into hysterics.  The male, a silver-back, snuck around the corner of the RV, pumped his fist into the air repeatedly and exclaimed “Yes! Yes!”


    More recently, a visitor from Oz was at the zoo in Anchorage.  One of the biggest  attractions was Binky, a polar bear who  has since gone to that great ice floe in the sky.  The visitor wanted a closer look at Binky, so she unwisely climbed over several fences and past barriers.  She survived, unfortunately for the collective IQ of the species, but one of the most popular pictures of the year showed Binky with a red sneaker dangling from his mouth.


    Digression:  I would venture to opine that for most folks, being eaten by a large carnivore is a very unattractive way to go. As far as that goes, being eaten by a host of small carnivores is no picnic either, pun intended. It sort of flies in the face of our illusions of ourselves as the lords of creation, the god-appointed stewards who have dominion over all other living creatures.  Maybe this is why the movie Jaws did so well, it hit us where we live.


    At any rate, just last year, some incredibly stupid clown and his clueless girlfriend were eaten by brown bears.  Not just mauled, mind you–chewed up and swallowed.  Now here’s the sad part–the bears who ate them–who were just doing what bears do after all–were murdered and cut open, so curious primates could extract the undigested portions and, presumably, give them a “decent burial.”


    Here’s the ironic part.  The afore-mentioned moron was a self-proclaimed lover of brown bears.  He made a living doing stupid stuff like getting in their face and crooning “I love you” in a high squeaky voice, and giving them cutesy nicknames like Aunt Betty and so on.  He would give little talks at elementary schools about how brown bears are an endangered species (they aren’t) and how bears are our friends (they aren’t), and went on TV to spread the same sort of sentimental drivel. Recently, it came out that he was a poser and a fraud.  He claimed to be Australian, but was really born somewhere more prosaic–Brooklyn or some place like that.  He had faked his accent.  And best of all, this expert on bears, this clown, this prince of jerks, this preening, pretentious putz–made his camp smack dab in the middle of a bear trail.  I feel sorry for his sweety, but he only got what he so richly deserved.


    Okay, so you’re a tourist and you stay away from bears and all, and it’s summer so you don’t have to worry about hypothermia as long as you stay out of glacier-fed streams–and most ALL of our streams are glacier-fed, by the way–are you home free?  No way.  There is always the chance that another tourist will  kill you.


    There was this big front-page story this summer, a real tear-jerker.  Seems that a bunch of guys got together for their dream vacation, touring Alaska on their motorcycles.  This wasn’t a gang or anything, they were regular guys, well-off blue collar types for the most part–salt of the earth.  Two of them were firefighters, for pete’s sake.  (For all I know, they beat their wives, cheated on their income taxes, and porked their pet pomeranians–this is just how the news story portrayed them.)  Anyway,  here they are, being 5,000 miles from their families and loving every second, tooling up the Parks Highway on a sunny summer day, getting the occasional glimpse of Denali in the distance.  Then all of a sudden, no warning whatever, this on-coming Korean sedan crosses the center line and smashes into the midst of them, killing one and seriously injuring others.


    The driver of the car was an elderly tourist travelling with his wife, who had evidently fallen asleep at the wheel.  He was unavailable for comment, but I can just imagine the wife’s reaction–”Harold, you stupid old son of a bitch!  Didn’t I say you looked tired, didn’t I say stop and take a nap?  But nooo, you had to be Mr Macho, fer crissake.  I’m fine, you said, just let me drive.  Well I let you drive, you asshole, and now that nice young man is dead, you jerk.  Are you happy now?  Are you gonna let me do some driving now?  Do you have your hearing aid turned off, you stinker?”  And so on.


    But enough about tourists.  How about those of us who live here–do we mostly die of old age?   No way.  As you may have guessed, Alaskans tend to be armed and dangerous.  That is one reason why Alaska has the highest per capita fatality rate in the nation from accidental gunshot wounds. What’s more, outside of my family and my local NA group members,  almost everyone I know smokes dope, drinks to excess or both.  Like our neighbor who got drunk and smashed up his snowmachine, and himself.  After a long and presumably painful convalescence, he got a new snowmachine to replace the one he smashed up. He got drunk again and smashed up the new one, and mangled a leg in the process. Okay, he’s still alive, but he walks with a cane now and looks like death warmed over.


    We have a fair number of cold-related mishaps as well.  Every winter since I have been here, at least one neighbor manages to burn down his cabin.  The year before last, it was a teenage girl who stupidly fell asleep (or passed out) with a candle burning on her stereo–the ensuing fire pretty much destroyed the building she was residing in, a deli as it happened.  Last year, a family of six in Anchorage died of carbon monoxide poisoning.  Talk about felony stupidity–it seems that someone in the family  had deliberately blocked a fresh-air intake vent.  Oh, and they had a CO detector– but they were getting ready to move and had disabled it, for some reason.


    So there you have it–death in Alaska.  And to think  I haven’t even mentioned all the people who were killed by state troopers or local police officers recently

  • More on NPD–Narcissistic Personality Disorder


    If you’re looking for the promised blog on interesting ways to die, that is in abeyance.  One of my therapists suggested I get back to blogging about my progress in dealing with my NPD.  For new subscribers, NPD is a particularly irksome disorder for those who have to deal with us–we tend to be attention-seeking, impulsive, self-absorbed, impractical, totally incapable of empathy, shallow and grandiose–and those are some of our BETTER characteristics. One of our worse characteristics is, if you piss us off, we want to kill you.  Not just get even, I mean literally murder you–smash your head in, burn your house down, and sow salt in the ashes.  Most all serial killers have NPD, as do most politicians and entertainers.


    Since giving up alcohol and most other drugs and getting some specific therapy, I’ve gotten a little better, but I am still pretty hard to live with.  At least according to the people who live with me, and they should know. One of the frustrating things about this for me is that when it flares up, I am the last to know. Literally.  I go along being self-absorbed and obnoxious and generally acting like god died and left me in charge.  Then reality comes crashing through, my sweety points out that I am being obnoxious–again–and I start looking, really looking, at what I am saying and doing, and sure enough–the NPD kid rides again!  The fact that now I can take her observations with an iota of grace and gratitude,  instead of hitting the net looking for ricin recipes  gives me a little hope for the future.


    Not that I expect ever to be normal, whatever that is.  In our culture today, to be normal is to be pathological anyway. I have been told, and I accept as true, that I will always have a void in me, a little chip of ice as it were, where most people have empathy.  “I feel your pain” is something I will never be able to say, not honestly.  And frankly, I don’t see the point in it.  I have enough pain of my own, thank you very much.  At least the therapy is working to the extent that I no longer take so much glee in the misfortunes of others–mainly snowmachiners and rich people.  When some idiot snowmachiner plows into a moose and they both die, I feel sorry for the moose and think :”good riddance” about the snowmachiner.  But I do kind of feel sorry for the idiot’s family, which is new.


    But I should move on to the main thrust of this, which is looking at symptom #10 on my list–”jealous and envious: ridicules the achievements of others.”  I have always been a master of trying to build myself up by tearing other people down.  Sometimes I do this more or less face to face–I never kid or josh, I go for the jugular–but more often, it is sneaky and backhanded, sly and subtle so that I can maintain plausible deniability if I am called out on it.


    For instance, I went to college with a guy who is now a rich and famous novelist, even edited his early fiction when I was co-editor of the college literary magazine.  I milked this for years, as if that coincidence made me something special.  But what is more to the point, I denigrated his ability, called him a hack and worse behind his back, at every opportunity.  Never mind that he worked his ass off for years, writing pulp fiction under a variety of pseudonyms as he learned his trade, I could not forgive him for being successful.  Forgiveness does not come easy to us NPD people–after months in therapy, I was able to forgive my wife for loving me.  And if that sounds really sick, you are beginning to get an inkling about how serious NPD is.


    For years–talking about jealousy–I hated the fact that my wife loves her son more than she loves me, and would in a pinch, choose him over me to live with.  I accept that now, at least intellectually.  Emotionally, at best I am ambivalent.  I mean he IS blood of her blood, fruit of her womb and all, and besides, we have both had a bunch of other spouses in our lives, so what’s the big deal about being her hubby?  They come and go, right?  But still, in my heart of hearts, I harbor resentments.  And just the other night when I overheard her  confronting  him about being disrespectful toward her, I savored every moment.  “See, he’s not so bloody perfect,” my spiteful little NPD-ridden mind thought.


    Like she doesn’t know he’s not perfect.  She is well aware of his flaws, but she loves him anyway.  Just as she is well aware of mine–painfully so–yet loves me anyway.  I don’t know why.


    I do know, however, that I love her.  At least, I love her as much as I am capable of loving anyone who isn’t me.  That may not be much, but right now, it is all I have.

  • Moose on the loose


    Kathy has blogged numerous times about the joys and trials of living with moose.  So far this winter, 201 of them have died on the roads in the valley, untold other ones came off as the loser in  collisions with the train.  When this happens, they are butchered on the spot and the meat goes to various charities for distribution to the needy.  Many of us in the valley have dined,  and dined well, on what was basically roadkill.  But I digress.


    Mostly , the only moose we have seen were along the highway on the way to and from town.  We didn’t see moose in the immediate neighborhood, or even much moose sign, until the other day.  I went to our old place to put out some warm water for the feral cats living there and saw lots of moose tracks going through the yard.


    Today was fairly warm–it got up to almost freezing–and so I decided to walk our dog around the block and over to the mailbox instead of driving.  As we were getting to where Wild Bill Way intersects with Susitna Drive, I saw moose tracks.  Lots of them.  Rounding the corner heading towards the mailbox, I saw more tracks.  Then I saw the moose.  Koji, our lovable lunkhead, the 75-pound lap dog, got a tad excited.  He was standing up on his hind legs, straining at the leash.  He no doubt wanted to go and sniff the mooses’s butt, but I was having none of that.


    The moose barely gave us a glance, just kept munching on the willow browse and moved out of sight, and we continued on our walk.


    The only thing of interest in the mail was half a dozen flyers for the upcoming gun show at Wasilla High School.  I’ll be selling knives there, and quickly posted the single flyer sent me with my registration stuff I had gotten on Friday, so I called the chairperson for more.  They got here in a day, which amazed me.  Anyway, I decided to go and get them posted.


    I headed north, my first stop being at The Store, a local general store which mostly sells food, but also stuff  like boot liners and fishing gear .  I took down an outdated notice, re-arranged the existing ones to utilize the space more efficiently and posted my notice prominently.  I also spent way more time that I really wanted to schmoosing with Jack, the owner.  He is one of these guys who seems to have been vaccinated with a victrola needle, as the saying goes, but I finally got out of there and made my stops at Moore’s Mercantile, Sunshine Restuarant, Sunshine Tesoro Station,  the H & H Restuarant, and then headed back down the hghway towards  my last stop, the local hangout, Sheep Creek Lodge. This is pretty much all the viable businesses in a 15-mile radius of home, by the way, except for Camp Caswell, the local general store-RV park-laundromat-video rental place that got my first poster. After posting my last flyer, or flying my last poster, whatever, I was done, and headed back up the highway towards home.


    Rounding the curve just past the water hole, I saw two more moose, a mother and a young ‘un, standing well off the highway.  That’s where I like to see them–well off the highway.  They didn’t evolve with motorized vehicles and as a class have not grasped that those bright lights coming at them have a ton or two of glass and steel behind them.  Hitting a moose could be very bad news, especially since I don’t have collision insurance for the car (heck, I only paid $550 for the vehicle) or health insurance (no way can I afford it).  So I am very cautious driving in winter time, especially around dawn and dusk when the moose are most active.


    As a rule, if a passenger-size vehicle hits a moose, the vehicle is totalled and the moose is either killed or injured so badly that it has to be shot.  A recent moose-light truck collision killed the driver, who was coming home from work.  This was, I think, the first human fatality this year, but will probably not be the last.


    There are many interesting ways to die up here, and I think that will be the subject of my next blog.

  • Okay, NOW it’s Cold!


    Different people have different notions of when cold is cold, even the same people at different times.  When I lived Outside, “cold” was when it was too cold to drive a sports car with the top down–that is, under 50 degrees.  We have different standards here– in Fairbanks, with notoriously variable temps–summer highs in the 90′s and winter lows around 60 below–some folks say it’s not really cold until it gets down to 40 below.  (I am talking Farenheit here, but FWI, 40 below is 40 below whether you are talking in Farenheit or Centigrade.)  A recent weather forecast for the soft city people in Anchorage said it would be “bitterly cold”, with a low of zero and single-digit highs.  Cold?  Shoot fire, that’s just brisk!   It has to be at least 10 below before I’ll admit that it’s “really” cold.


    I have my reasons.  Starting around 10 below, your nose hairs freeze when you inhale.  You can feel them, I dunno, sort of crinkle.  Not a pleasant sensation.  And eyes–you have to do this Clint Eastwood squinty thing, to keep your eyeballs from freezing.  Frozen eyeballs = no fun.  At least in my book.  And if you have asthma or any sort of respiratory problem, this kind of cold can take your breath away.  Literally.  Trust me on this, ten below is not healthy for old farts and many other living things.


    It’s not good for vehicles, either.  Lubricants, even 5-30 weight motor oils, get god-awful viscous.  In really cold weather, like around 40 below, you can stand on the surface of a tub-full of the stuff and not sink in. Even good batteries strain to turn the engine over, and not-so-good batteries simply die.  Once you do get a vehicle started, the clutch feels spongy and weird, and you can starin your shoulder muscles pretty good shifting gears.  Letting the car sit and idle forever doesn’t help; you gotta be rolling to warm up the tranny.


    Many people lucky enough to have electricity have block heaters, a little dingus that goes into the freeze plug hole to warm up the coolant a tad.  There are also oil pan heaters, same idea only they stick onto the outside of, you guessed it, the oil pan. There are even little insulated covers that slip over batteries and plug in to keep them at greater operating efficiency.  Some people have all three on their vehicles–I hate ot think what their electric bills must be.


    As far as that goes,  I shudder to think how much juice we are using up right now.  I have the block heater in the car turned on, and there are two 1500-watt ceramic heaters running in the trailer right now.  If I heat a cup of joe in the microwave, we are pulling a good 5000 watts or so.  (To put this in perspective, the little Honda generator we ran sometimes at the old place put out maybe 500 watts.)  I have no idea how much this load is stressing the electrical system in our old trailer.  Oh well, that’s what circuit breakers are for.


    I just peeked outside to check the thermometer.  Hooray, it’s warming up–now it’s only 13 below, up from 21 below earlier.  One nice thing about 21 below–it makes zero seem fairly comfortable.


     

  • The well-heeled Chef, Part 2


    I just finished an awesome breakfast Greyfox-style, and I’m gonna blog about it, assuming I don’t pass out from the blood sugar spike first.


    Over the past few months, I have been doing a lot of skillet meals for my family and myself.  Starting with a scrambled egg base, I add everything from potatoes to pepper jack, from home fries to jalapenos.  It is challenging when I cook for all of us, since we have different tastes.  Kathy loves lots of jalapenos, I’m okay with a few, and Doug (her adult son who lives with us) won’t touch them.  Ditto with onions.  And Doug and I eat the hell out of potatoes, while they are verboten to Kathy due to her diet.  But I usually manage to come up with some compromise we can all live with–I’m not a double Libra for nothing.  But this morning, I outdid myself.


    Doug went to bed around ten am, shortly before Kathy (BTW, that’s SuSu to xangans) got up and nuked herself one of her home-made healthful muffins, so I was on my own.  So I nuked a medium spud, to be sliced and browned in olive oil.  Then I turned down the heat and added some diced onions.  When they were translucent, I added the scrambled egg mixture (three eggs with one yolk removed, and a bunch of nuked bacon with the fattier pieces removed–gotta watch that cholesterol–and gave the rejected stuff to the dog).  When the eggs were just about done, I added a small handful of medium cheddar cheese, diced small to melt.  Viola!  Seasoned with paprika, garlic powder, parsley, and celery salt and served on a warmed plate, along with lots of black 100% Columbian coffee and a half liter of orange juice.  Yum!


    Finished off with a grand total of 26 assorted tablets, capsules and caplets for dessert. Not so yum. 


    And my apologies to any of you who got a heart attack and/or gained three pounds just by reading this.


    PS–or should that be BS ?(Blog Script)–I’m still wearing the Mak, but I will leave it at home if I go to the post office today.  But I am carrying an additional knife, one of the 592 that came in the mail the other day.

  • Home alone–sort of


    As I start to write, it is just past ten in the morning.  Outdoors, it is quiet as usual–we live maybe half a  winter day’s drive from the nearest McDonald’s and it is usually peaceful here except for the occasional gunshot or train whistle when there’s a moose on the tracks.   Weekends it can get bad, what with recreational snowmachiners coming here from the city to fill our clean air with their noise and poison, but they have all gone home now. The house is quiet.  Doug, Kathy’s son, went to bed around eight after staying up all night on the computer and washing a load of dishes, and Kathy (SuSu to xangans) went down around seven-thirty.  She was up all night playing video games.  I assume her fibro kept her up–it’s been pretty severe lately.  I suck when it comes to nurturing.  About all I can do is prepare food for her, fetch her coffee, and make sure she takes her meds, she often forgets to.  But I digress.


    All three cats are asleep on the sofa.  The dog is curled up on the bed, maybe sleeping, maybe not.  The wood stove in the living room where we, well, live–sleep and watch videos and play games and read and do crossword puzzles  and sort knives and eat and everything–has stopped ticking, which means it  stabilized after I put in the most recent load of wood.  I hope it comes up soon, it is sort of chilly outside, like 4 below zero, not bad for this time of year.  Right now it is 48 above in the living room, not too bad, but I like it to be up in the fifties during the day.


    I am at loose ends.  I’ve had breakfast and morning meds and coffee and green tea,  made sure all the house critters have food and water, cleaned the litter box, read the paper,  made a pot of decaf blend for my sweety, checked my email, and powered up the block heater for my car.  Later today, I might run into Willow to pick up some stuff at the post office and go to the credit union, and for sure will drive to our box out by the highway to check our mail and  go over to our old place and put out some warm water for the colony of feral cats that resides there.  But right now, I am blissfully inactive.  And that’s okay.


    My feet are cold, but my heart is warm.  We have plenty of food in the pantry and  firewood in the yard and springwater in jugs and buckets in the kitchen.  Both cars are running.  Best of all, my sweety and I are clean and sober today.


    Life is good.

  • The well-heeled chef


    Regulars and subscribers will know that our household is unlike any other.  I was thinking about this the other day as I was in the kitchen preparing one of my skillet meals (eggs, bacon, home fries, colby jack cheese)  for the three domesticated primates who live here.   I was wearing my usual fleece-lined moccasins and baggy insulated pants and red and black flannel shirt–and a 9mm Makarov, in a kind of retro-looking Russian army surplus  belt holster.


    The piece was kind of a Christmas present for myself, got it at a gun show I worked recently.  I got extra magazines and a reloading tool and beaucoup ammo, but no holster and so it had been just kind of laying around in the living room on a plastic organizer thingie with two of my other handguns.


    Then I checked out www.makarovpistols.com, saw all kinds of neat info and accessories, including the holster.  It has a little pocket for an extra mag, and little loops on the side to hold a cleaning rod and a neat little strap inside to tug up on so you don’t have to dig down into the holster to get the gun.  It also has a nice big flap that snaps down over the whole works–as my stepson Doug observed, “Not exactly a speed-draw rig.”  But it IS authentic and it was cheap–only $9 plus shipping–and since the gun is a Russian-made job (commercial, not military, for the information of any other gun fans out there),  it seemed appropriate.  My sweety agreed.


    So anyway, I have been wearing the thing around the house, wore it to the local laundromat/general store/video rental place, wore it when I went to the spring to get drinking water, wore it to walk the dog.  It’s new, which was a nice surprise–I was expecting second-hand–and the leather kinda squeaks.  I’m getting used to the comforting weight of it on my hip and will probably stop wearing it all the time when it feels broken-in, and just wear it to, say, walk the dog or work other gun shows.  It’s a good in-between size, way smaller than my .44 magnum, a tad smaller than my .357 magnum, but way bigger than my derringer.


    One other thing–this is undoubtedly a coincidence, but I notice I get more compliments, and fewer complaints, on my cooking since I started wearing the gun.


    Martha Stewart,  eat your heart out.