An employee of a small town "liberry" chronicles his quest to remain sane while dealing with patrons who could star in a short-lived David Lynch television series.

Friday, May 18, 2007

A-MINUS: 0

I've never been to Alaska before, but later this afternoon I'm headed up there. Yes indeedy, I'm finally off to visit the homeland, or at least the growing up land, of my wife Ashley.

From age five, when her dad moved the family up there, looking to and eventually taking a job as an industrial mechanic on the oil pipeline project in the mid 1970s, to age 25, Alaska was where Ashley called home. She and her family lived in a variety of places—often Little House on the Prairie style, with no running water and an outhouse, sometimes in the middle of the wilderness with no roads of any sort leading to them and supplies air-dropped every two weeks—but eventually settled down in a little community called Salcha. I'll get to see that area and lots more.

Unfortunately, I've been operating under the mistaken impression that I was supposed to fly out Saturday instead of today despite the fact that my itenerary clearly says May 18. So I'm about to pile the cat in the car to zoom down to North Carolina where I'm ditching her with the in-laws and then flying out of Charlotte at 5:20. I guess the countdown still works, as it's a 10 hour flight, so I won't get there until the wee hours of Saturday. Well, the wee hours for me, it'll only be midnight when I get there.

Oy, I should have left yesterday.

I'll drop in from time to time, posting from libraries across Alaska, uploading snapshots and no doubt sitting next to the Alaskan equivallent of Mr. B-Natural.

A-MINUS: 1 or 0 depending on your point of view

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