Wilder by Far

A look at life with the Wilder family. Updated most weekends and some vacation days. You can contact me at movingnorth@gmail.com..

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Location: United States

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

"Patience my friend. He has grown strong. Only together can we turn him to the dark side." - Emperor Palpatine, Return of the Jedi

This was my last look at Denali National Park. The traffic is killer. Oh, you can click on this for bigger pictury goodness.

Major note and plug for Wilder Global Domination, Inc.:

The Mrs.’ book is out and unleashed on the world. It’s online and available at Amazon.com at this link. Buy a copy, or, better yet, buy a dozen. They’re cheap, make wonderful gifts, doorstops, blocking for cars that you want to keep up on blocks, and they’re make from wonderful, sweet trees.

A word of warning: The Book isn’t Life in Alaska. It’s more like Indiana Jones meets The Da Vinci code. I liked it, even after reading it (and editing it) a bazillion times. This is a big day in the Wilder house, and The Mrs. was giddy. If you hate Amazon, you can also get it at Target.

One thing that Alaska taught me, for which I am forever grateful, is patience.

Not Patience like the crappy Guns n’ Roses song, but rather the old Zen Master type of patience. When you live in Alaska, well, if you want it, and it ain’t in Fairbanks, you either ain’t going to get it or you’re gonna have to wait. Amazon.com (hint, hint, see above) takes forever to deliver. If you want the house to be warm, you’ll have to be patient. It takes a while for the wood stove to come up to temperature. If you want to get construction services performed, you have to be patient, especially during moose season.

Patience is built into the Alaskan experience.

I really realized how different that I was when I started driving in Houston traffic. Houston traffic is probably not the worst in the world. That would probably be the traffic into Paris Hilton’s bedroom. Take a number? Nah, she doesn’t have time for that. Regardless, the traffic is, well, as thick as the Baldwin family at certain times of the day (do you think that Adam or Alec or what’s his name can even spell? Me neither).

As I started to brave the traffic, I realized something: I can’t drive through cars, unless I get a much bigger car, say, a M1-A1 Abrams tank, or something bigger like a Tahoe. Given that restriction placed on me by physics, I decided to be content in traffic. I achieved this Nerdvana by:

  • Leaving Early to Go Where I’m Going,
  • Looking at the Miles Per Gallon Indicator on the Dash, and
  • Being Old.

I noted that, after getting off the 1600 lane Interstate-Style road, I can get through approximately 1492 stop lights without stopping. I do this through the extraordinary means of

  • driving the speed limit,
  • watching the traffic and lights ahead,
  • keeping a buffer of distance between,, and
  • holding a petrified mummy’s hand and chanting, “Klaatu Verata N’ictu”.

Since the kinetic energy of a car is ½mv², and my car has a mass of approximately 62.5 slugs (really, that’s the English system’s version of mass, if you discount the pound-mass, which is, well, just silly) and a velocity of 40 MPH, then the total kinetic energy of the car is 386,200,000 slug-feet/second². I’m not sure what that even means, but, it’s actually correct. When use my brakes to transfer that 386,200,000 slug-feet/second² into heat, well, that’s 386,200,000 slug-feet/second² of gasoline I could have not poured out onto the pavement. I’m cheap. I don’t like to use my brakes.

While I was doing this the other night, I got lights flashed at me and was honked at by someone who obviously didn’t understand that by jamming on the accelerator and rushing from one red light to the next, having a speed curve of 0mph-40mph-0mph that he would waste that 386,200,000 slug-feet/second² of energy at every red light. I let him pass me. He looked like Vladimir Putin

Figures. Communists hate saving energy. Stupid Vladimir Putin.

Hey, why does my keyboard glow like it’s been charged with 386,200,000 slug-feet/second² of energy?

(Subliminal message: buy the book and Vladimir Putin won’t poison you with polonium.)


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Congrats to the Mrs on the book.! And that thing about the brakes... remember you're in the land of road rage now. So what's cheaper.. new brake pads or the body work to fill all the bullet holes?

8:34 PM  
Blogger Spencer said...

Klaatu barada N... Necktie... Nickel... It's an "N" word, it's definitely an "N" word! Klaatu barada N*cough*

All right then..

I said it.

3:17 AM  
Blogger Tracy said...

Dude! I just found your blog, and I laughted till I had tears in my eyes. My family and I lived in Anchorage for 10 years, were bambooziled into moving back to Texas in 2000, and have been pretty much grumpy ever since. We live just a few short hours away from you now, near Beaumont. So I know your pain brother, preach on!

9:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Congrads to the Mrs! Woohoo! Going to Amazon to check it out and see how cheap.

Someone has to help pay for all that gas you are going to be using.

Still enjoying your blog Mr. Wilder. :)

4:21 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I tried to recreate your slug number but all I got was slimed.

My deceleration equation ended in Troy ounces per furlough squared, I gotta quit using these communist units. Now I understand why you added Putin to the equation.

Good luck on the book (to the Mrs. of course), I can already say I admire at least one of the characters, and no his name is not Jim.

3:40 PM  
Blogger Cathy said...

Off to Amazon to check out the book, congrats to the Mrs!

Amazon ships free.. yes free!! ... to Alaska!!! woo hooo

Sorry I have to control myself, it's just that most companies fail to realize that AK is part of the United States when shipping here.

7:55 AM  
Blogger shawnkielty said...

Is that champagne you're drinking?

Congrats on the book.

9:46 PM  
Blogger shawnkielty said...

I meant "beer"

12:08 AM  
Blogger John said...

Thanks! Body work. I can use spackle or toothpaste if need be. Plus The Mrs. has an excellent set of oil paints.

Ohhh, you quoted The Bruce! (Has signed copy of "Let's Make Love: The Bruce Campbell Way")

Glad you enjoyed! Boy, have I got notes. Lots of fodder here for a transplant to Texas.

Laughter is my business. And I take my business seriously. Except that serious laughter is, well, hmmm.

Let me think about that . . .

tiffany from pa,
Indeed! You shoulda seen The Mrs. when she saw the page with her book on it! She did backflips (mentally).

Oh, and THANK YOU!!!

Learned it from Foreman. Adding Putin to the equation always makes it "rootin' tootin'".

That's one good character. (The one we speak of).


I *did* buy The Mrs. a bottle of bubbly to celebrate. Didn't check the prices and accidently got a good bottle.

mmmmmm, beer.

7:03 AM  
Blogger Lynn said...

I am getting caught up on my holiday hiadis from reading blogging thingy. Dang holidays mess me up in my imaginary life and make it so my fake relationships with other bloggers are the first thing to go when real life gets too busy.
Wow Texas! I being a Canadian can for sure relate to your climate woes. Seeing we have all the attributes to Fairbanks without the Midnight sun here in Ontario.
I too was wisked away to Texas. In my old days as the Truck Pixie I worked as a Long Haul trucker most often in the Southern states. Expecially Texas. I too have had alot of first there. Near Austin I met brothers who were heros from the desert storm era who capped oil rig fires just for fun. Those great native mexican indian americans (note the lower case for I dont know which title is the most important, so I have a hard time knowing what to capitalize)saved my bacon because they were ingenious! They needed to supply their special oil rig trucks with tires, so they opened a truck tire shop in the middle of no where just to give them something to do when terrorism was low and oil fires were less....just in the place I had some sort of thorn puncture one of the dulies on the trailer.. Then they offered me texas bbq cuz they opened a bbq restaurant on their property cuz someone had a hankerin for food. I also met my first non captive terrantula in texas on the route of the old fort trail. I also saw the rio grande. I thought it was a river. This confuses me to this day. The rio grande is a clay bed with edges. There are great rest areas with special view areas for the best view of the clay cracks!
I am glad I have time to continue my fake life as well as my real one.
I had a quick look at the Mrs book on the site you provided. I am glad that I actually know the references in the title. So mode it be.

11:41 PM  

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