"Gentlemen, pray silence for the President of the Royal Society for Putting Things on Top of Other Things." - Python, Monty

President Chen Shui-bian (pronounced John Smith) and I following our engagement announcement. I have no idea who the trollop touching my arm is.

So, here it is, as promised. The post where I divulge the awful secret that binds me to The President of Taiwan (Chen Shui-bian) like a salamander super-glued to a satin sheet.

I was sitting in the line to drive out of Whittier when I saw the same car that had been tailing me all the way from the Alyeska Prince Hotel that morning. We were stopped in the middle of the road, waiting fifteen minutes for the next traffic release to leave Whittier. Then seven men got out of the stretch Lincoln Limo, and one of them, a Chinese gentleman wearing a two-piece navy suit and dark sunglasses tapped on my window with the knuckles of his hand.

Said gentleman introduced himself as Chin Long Soo (his brother?) and indicated that he was in the Secret Service of Taiwan, and was curious if I would like to meet the President of Taiwan. There was only one catch - did I have any Judas Priest in the car?

Damn straight I did.

Soon, the President of Taiwan and I were jamming to "You've Got Another Thing Coming" as we sipped champagne in the back of the Limo. His Secret Service guys drove my car through the tunnel. Then we drank a bunch more champagne and played poker until dawn. I think I own the Taiwanese Navy now. (It has three ships, two more than Canada's.)

Okay, that was all a lie. A damn fine lie, but a lie.

Now the truth.

Okay, so it's mainly coincidence.

When we checked in to the Alyeska Prince, I saw lots of official-looking cars. Cars with Alaska State Legislature plates, things like that.

Turns out (I found out after the trip) that the President of Taiwan was hanging out at the Alyeska Prince when I was, talking about trade with Alaska. Now, I'm not going to tell you how I offered him five dollars to take my luggage up to the room, and how I was swarmed by the Taiwanese Secret Service. That would have been a story. But, no, I didn't even know he was there until after the trip.

The President of Taiwan ended up getting stuck in Alaska, due to weather down in Florida, or something like that. So, I followed his progress thanks to Google News, and that's when I saw the picture above. I started cackling, and showed The Mrs. She started cackling, too.

The picture below is one I took. Of The Boy. Same spot that The President of Taiwan occupied two days later.


The Boy and Smokey T. Bear. The Boy is impossible to photograph, given the great magnetic field that his body exudes like grease from Donald Trump's hair.

Har!

Both pictures were taken at the Begich and Boggs Visitor Center to Portage Glacier. When we had gotten in line to go through the tunnel out of Whittier (despite asking him previously) The Boy declared that if he was not allowed to use the bathroom immediately, he would be the first person since 1936 to die of a ruptured bladder.

There was no way we were going to miss the tunnel release, since that might mean we'd need to stay in Whittier another two hours. No. Not going to happen.

So, we went through the tunnel, he suffered, and we stopped at the Visitor Center. There The Boy blissfully made peace with his internal waste storage system. We hadn't intended to stop, but we did. Thus, the result is the picture above.

The 'Begich' in the name of the Visitor Center was an Alaska politician. He was lost when his plane crashed on a glacier, and has never been found. His sons have risen to prominance in Alaska, though, one being mayor of Anchorage, and the other for writing books about how HAARP controls our minds.

In retrospect, I'd like to thank The Boy's bladder. Stopping at the Visitor Center was nice. The pictures of Portage Lake and Portage Glacier below would not have been possible with out the liquid intake.


This is a big honking glacier. Portage is its name-o. Same-o for the lake-o.


This is Byron Glacier. I'm not sure if this one is named for Lord Byron or not. But, the name remains Byron.


This is just another damn glacier. Another one. These things infest Alaska like cats infest an old lady's house. Damn glaciers, anyway.

So, The Boy's bladder provided the punchline to this bit of story. Does anyone know what the average salary is in the Taiwanese Navy?

By the way: Shout out to my Pop on his birthday. Dads rock.

Next: Toys, Anchorage, and The Dreaded Slutch of Doom