"It doesn't matter what you look like on the outside, whether you're white, black, or sasquatch, even."-Meatwad, Aqua Teen Hunger Force

Our first sunset Outside. Not bad. I give it an 8. You can click on it for a larger version.

So, it was time for a trip Outside.

When I say Outside, I don’t mean just beyond the humble door of my log abode. No. I mean someplace that isn’t Alaska. That’s the definition of “Outside.” Oh, my schedule touring with Gregg Rolie keeps me busy (one night he’ll headline, the next I’ll headline with my spoken word version of “The Cat In The Hat.”) and going Outside, but this is with The Mrs., The Boy, and The New Boy.

I make reservations for us all. Since The New Boy is so gosh darn fresh, he gets to fly for nada, being the little straphanger he is. The Boy, of course, costs as much as The Mrs. and me even though he won’t eat nearly as many pretzels.

Fairbanks is a very well connected city, if you want to go to Barrow, Anchorage, or Seattle during the winter. During the summer, I hear there’s even a direct flight to Hamburg. Really.

So, I see that there’s a flight that leaves to go direct to Seattle from Fairbanks at 1:30 AM. How could this go wrong? It’s so late that The Mrs., The Boys, and I will be in slumber the whole time, so we will all get to our final destination in the Midwest as bright and cheery as a bowl of noodle soup.

The night before we leave, though, we pack until about 2:00 AM. Not so good. After spending the next day preparing to leave as well, The Mrs. and I were running on just a dab of sleep when we get onto the plane. At 1:30AM.

The Boy, getting onto the plane at night, was a bit disoriented. As we accelerated down the runway to takeoff speed, he said, and I quote, “Scared, scared, scared . . .” followed by “cool,” as he saw the full moon break over the clouds. We were on our way.

Needless to say, The Boy and The New Boy didn’t sleep right away. When they did finally go to sleep, we couldn’t. For one, blessed, fifteen minute stretch they were both asleep. Then The Boy awoke with a wail that would put a banshee to shame. This was followed by the immediate chain reaction cry of The New Boy.

I’ve had my sleep interrupted on many a flight by a crying child or infant. Now I am the guy with the squalling kids. I guess this is just the cycle of life completing as I move from irritated to irritator – Hakuna matata.

So, we finally land in Seattle just as dawn is breaking. The Boys have had just enough rest to make them alert and cranky. The Mrs. looks like the living dead (zombie living dead, not vampire living dead). We have coffee, that elixir of the gods, sweet, sweet caffeine. We perk up a bit.

We catch the next leg of our flight, now off to the Midwest. It was finally time to fly to see the first batch of our family. Another few hours in the air, and we’re off to pick up our rental car. When we left Fairbanks, the temperature was –17F. As we arrive at our destination, the temperature is 34F. Shirtsleeve weather!

To those that had a question about air quality in Fairbanks - this photo shows where a few million people live Outside. Fairbanks is sometimes foggy. Get the picture?

At this point, we were nearly comatose or cranky or just plain confused by the change in light and the multiple time zones we’d skipped. We took a tour of the city and headed to my brother’s house.

Now, my brother’s first name is John. If you thought my first name was John, well, you’re right. Apparently our parents weren’t all that imaginative. For some reason, he goes by his middle name (Ebenezer), even though he’s the older John. Go figure.

One time I called his office, and asked for him. The conversation went like this:

Me: Can I speak to Ebenezer Wilder?

Receptionist: Who shall I say is calling?

Me: John Wilder.

Receptionist: (Snort) Yeah, right. I’ll get him.

So, John Wilder called up John Wilder and he came home and we chatted. One thing about living in Alaska is this: you cherish the time with your friends and relatives when you get it a lot more. Even though you may see them for more time than you’ve seen them in years, well, the distance itself makes the experience special – you can’t drive and see them on a weekend (and you wonder why you didn’t do that more) so when you see them, it’s a trip. I imagine that life was much like this before the automobile made the United States shrink and shrivel like Robert Redford. Ironically, the distance brings you closer to the people you love, so far away.

The Boy, however, is not sold on this theory. He’s currently very angry and wants to move away from Alaska. Reason? He misses interstate highways. A recent conversation went like this:

Me: So, you like Alaska?

The Boy: No.

Me: Why not?

The Boy: No interstates.

The Mrs.: Well, there’s no other state to connect too.

The Boy: What about Nebraska?

The Mrs.: Do you want us to move Nebraska so we could have an interstate?

The Boy: Yeah.

The Mrs.: Heck, we could just build a bridge to Nebraska. Would that work?

The Boy: Yeah.

So, if you’re upset about our now-deleted “Bridge to Nowhere” well, take heart. If The Boy has his way, soon Alaska will be connected by bridge to Omaha.

So, we made it Outside. We have a sleep deficit, (36 hours??) however, that rivals the Federal deficit.

Next: My Visit To Beer Nirvana