I sneak Margie out on a date, eat raw fish, drift with ravens and spot a cop and a driver-less car on the Wasilla highway

As you know, this past Sunday afternoon I was happily working away in my office when Jobe suddenly appeared at my door, snatched Margie away from me and took her back to Anchorage to stay with him and Kalib for the week. This was because Lavina and Jacob were each traveling during different times of the week and so they needed Margie there, to care for Kalib and Jobe.

I do good alone, don't mind it, much, because as long as I have a camera, a computer or something to write with, I am never bored. I always have something to do.

More to do than I can do, in fact.

Even so, come Wednesday afternoon, I found myself longing to see Margie - to see a movie with her. We used to go to movies every week, when I would be home, but we have fallen off.

So I jumped into the car and rushed to town.

Whoever was in this car was headed into Wasilla even as I was headed out, Anchorage bound.

I snuck her out of the house. We then went to the movie, "Hereafter" and after we went out to dinner at Samurai Sushi, where we had never eaten before.

Margie doesn't care for sushi, so she ordered Teriyaki chicken. I ordered this plate of sushi and sashimi. For a moment, I was hesitant, because our bank account is once again just about tapped out - and we have an auto-withdrawal payment coming Monday that is bigger than the combination of all the funds left in all three of our bank accounts combined.

On the other hand, I had submitted an invoice the day before, which hopefully will be paid in time to cover everything, I had not been on a date with my wife in a long time and that sushi looked really good.

Here is my sushi and sashimi, as seen through my iPhone.

Oh, damn! It was good!

How do these Japanese chefs make raw fish taste so good?

If I take a fish and cut it up and eat it raw it is not going to taste like this.

These guys really know how to cut fish.

Margie's chicken teriyaki was delicious, too.

I know, because she let me sample a chopstick full.

I then drove Margie back to drop her off Jacob and Lavina's house until Saturday night. Do you remember that feeling you sometimes had when you were young and you had taken a girl you liked out on a date or maybe you were that girl and you were with a guy you liked and then the date was over and you were pulling up to her parent's house to drop her off?

That feeling of how good it felt to be with this person, how much you had enjoyed the date and now you still had the good feeling, but a little ache, too, because this girl with her parents and then go?

That was the very feeling that I had as I pulled into Jacob and Lavina's driveway with Margie beside me, after our date.

Only I wasn't taking back home to her parents.

I was taking her home to our grandkids. 

Jacob had returned from his travels and Lavina would not leave on her's until the next day, so they were both home.

Kalib was watching Dragons - probably for the 10,000th time. I got between him and the screen to take a picture of him. He peered around me to the left so that he could continue to watch.

I shifted left, to try again. Kalib peered around me to the right.

I shifted to the right. He was getting a little disgusted with me.

It's okay, though. He has all the scenes memorized. And he's probably seen them ten times since then.

Jobe was hanging out with Muzzy.

Maybe Jobe will go to Arizona some day and be a bull rider.

I don't really want him to be, but it might just be in his blood, so you never know.

Then Jacob caught me and Jobe together. Jobe loves me. Jobe loves my beard. One day, I want to take him out in a canoe and catch fish with him.

Maybe by then I can learn how to cut them right and then we can sit on the bank and eat sushi and sashimi, as fresh as sushi and sashimi can be.

"Grandpa," he will say. "That was damn good raw fish. I sure hope that some day, I can grow a beard just like yours!"

So that was Wednesday. This was yesterday, back in Wasilla. I had to go to Wal-Mart to pick up some medications.

There were ravens there, waiting for me.

Wal-Mart raven.

Then, as I drove home, I saw ravens surfing the updraft, over the railroad tracks.

It was a windy day. Ravens love windy days.

I love ravens.

For those unclear about the difference between ravens and crows, they are related, but ravens are bigger. Much bigger. 

Ravens make a stronger impression on you than crows do.

Sometimes a raven will say, "never more."

A crow would never say that.

Never.

While I was stopped at the light on the corner of the Parks and Palmer-Wasilla highways, I noticed a cop car pull into the left turn to my right with lights flashing. Then the cop stopped, right there in the left turn lane and got out of the car.

This seemed to me to be a very curious place to make a traffic stop. Then, as my light turned green and I had to go, I noticed that the car the cop had stopped behind did not have a driver.

It was empty - just sitting there unmanned in the left turn lane. Nor I could I see anyone just standing around, who might have once been the driver.

Just another of the usual strange sights that one gets to see just about everyday, right here in Wasilla, Alaska.

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Election eve, election morning in Wasilla - my search for a single Scott McAdams sign among a plethora of Joe Millers; sadly, the day begins very badly for someone

As election eve electioneering in Wasilla is aimed primarily at motorists driving by in cars, I decided that I would shoot my pictures of Wasilla electioneering entirely from the car. I would do it at dusk, and in the early AM, before dawn, to match the times when commuters would be pouring back into and leaving the valley to get back and forth from jobs in Anchorage.

I actually intended to start a little bit earlier than I did, but just as I was getting ready to go, Jimmy, my good black cat, did something on my desk that caused my computer screen to suddenly go black, then light back up just long enough for me to see error messages flashing all over the place as hard-drive icons mysteriously disappeared. Then the screen went dark again.

I could not get the monitor to come back up, so I had to shut everything down and start over again. It took 15 or 20 minutes, but finally my screen came back up, all my hard drives signed back on and so I got in the car and drove towards downtown Wasilla - if there is any place in Wasilla that can accurately be described as, "downtown."

I don't think there is - but there is an often frenetically busy area, where the Parks Highway runs through the midst of malls, stores, kiosks, fast food joints and various other enterprises, so that is what I refer to when I speak of "downtown Wasilla."

Here I am, on Lucille Street, headed towards downtown Wasilla, at dusk.

Then I was on the highway and it was busy. I had to stop at a red light, alongside this truck. 

I had hoped to get a red light at this corner, because I knew that is where the heaviest action would be, but I didn't. It was green. Up ahead, I saw a preponderance of Joe Miller signs. That's pretty much how it is in Wasilla - lots of Joe Miller signs.

In fact, it looked to me like Joe Miller had this corner all to himself... but wait... there in the shadows... the dark sign that hardly anyone can see or read... Harry Crawford! The Democratic candidate up against Don Young for the House!

This has been both a noisy and a quiet election. There has been so much noise surrounding the Senatorial race that all the other contests have seemed quiet, almost like they weren't happening.

It is an unusual thing to describe any race that Don Young is in as quiet, but, the House race has been pretty quiet.

And so has the race for Governor. These other races have been so quiet that has been a challenge for House, Gubernatorial, and, for hell's sake - local - candidates to capture the people's attention with everyone focused on McAdams........... Murkowski and ........................................................................................................................................................................................ Miller.

(Listed in order of my personal preference)

It's a fact, though, that here in Wasilla, Joe Miller dominates. Don't ask me why. 

As far as I can recall, one person was denied liberty in this election: Tony Hopfinger. 

And yet somehow, we must all live together. As Jon Stewart said, we build and share the same roads, where we all yield to each other in our turn. We do this everyday.

These are my neighbors. I disagree with them profoundly and believe that if they prove to be successful today, we, they and I, will all pay the price together.

Despite all that, we've all got to get along and not shoot each other.

In Alaska, we pretty much all have guns, you know - conservatives and liberals alike.

And, despite all the scare whipped up by those who would cynically use the fears of others for their political advantage, nobody in the Obama administration has made the slightest effort to take our guns away.

And we all fly the same flag. 

This had nothing to do with the electioneering. The officer was pursuing a speeder. I was not speeding. I was sitting at a red light, waiting for it to change so that I could turn left.

Some say that she is a moderate and that we should vote for her to stop Joe Miller. Once, I did see her as a moderate and I liked her. And I still like her. I have met her a few times and talked to her and she is a very likable person.

But I'm voting for Scott McAdams.

For one thing, I invested a great deal of faith and money in a health insurance company that turned out to be opposed to my health care. A couple of years ago, my doctor found some conditions in me that, if not watched closely, could easily turn to cancer and kill me. To insure that this would not happen, I was told that I would need to have certain procedures done every year.

If I could do this, then I should be okay.

And what did my insurance company do? They jacked up my rates and jacked up my rates until I could no longer pay them. Now I have no insurance but I do have preexisting conditions. The only thing that I can do is hope that I soon make a big financial score and can pay for these procedures out of pocket - as I am a year behind right now - or I can just hang on and hope that I make it okay without these procedures for another four years, until the Health Care bill kicks fully in.

Yet, she opposed that bill, and despite the lies that she accurately accuses Joe Miller of telling about her, tried to repeal it. She has promised to try again, should she win. 

She has actively voted against my health care - potentially against my life. In her promise to try again, she has made it clear that she would take even my four-year hope away from me.

I have many friends whom I love and respect who are voting for her - some of them just to stop Joe Miller.

But I am voting for my life - and the lives of others who either can't get health insurance or find that their insurance companies oppose their health care. 

Only Scott McAdams has said he would work with the basic strengths of the bill, tweak out the weaknesses, and strive to improve, not to kill, weaken, or defund, it.

I will vote for Scott McAdams. I will vote for my life.

And for those who protest "higher taxes" - even though the health care bill is primarily a private industry plan, consider this:

Over the course of the time that I carried my insurance, I spent somewhere between $100,000 and $150,000 in premiums. I got very little back for that. I was prescribed medications for various things - but my insurance company never bought me a single pill. I spent hundreds of dollars a month, out of pocket. They never covered any routine care, and, besides what I paid them, I paid tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket for the medical care that my insurance always found a way to deny me.

What if, instead of into the pockets of an insurance company that saw my health care only as obstacle to their profits, I had paid that money, even as a tax, into a federal insurance plan that would actually cover my health care, help me, and when problems arise, be there for me, rather than to seek to find a way not to pay and even to force me out?

Right now, our health insurance practices are absurd. Up until you qualify for Medicare, insurance companies - perhaps not all, but certainly those such as mine - keep looking for ways to deny you help. If you hang on and survive in good health until you are 65, then they will likely pocket the money that you spent with them and then turn you over to Medicare, where a whole new set of tax dollars will now have to pay up your care.

Wouldn't it be better to have all the premiums that you spent over the decades, either out of your own pocket or your employer's, to be there for your care health care, once you turn 65, rather then to go to enrich CEO's and shareholders who never cared about you, anyway?

So I will vote for Scott McAdams.

But where are his signs?

I did not see a single one.

Just a flood of Joe Miller, and a spattering of Lisa Murkowski.

Well, enough of that. I did not mean to get carried away like that. I did not mean to politic. I was just going to matter-of-factly say: here are the signs, vote as you will. My anger got the best of me. Now, I will let readers enjoy looking at the signs.

I get a chuckle out of this one.

So that was last night. This is this morning. I decided that on election morning, I would have breakfast at Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant, then shoot a few more election day pictures from the car.

Here I am, at Family, where, as seen in their reflection upon the window, Connie takes an order.

As I sat there eating and sipping, a big number of emergency vehicles came by, lights flashing, sirens whining but quickly going silent. I knew that the accident had to be close by, that someone's day had gotten off to a bad start.

A very bad start. It happened very close to where I had been eating. I am back in my car, now, but still in the parking lot in front of Family Restaurant.

A terrible start. I hope not as terrible as it looks.

I hope they found success in their mission.

Just down the road, sign wavers had returned - two, at least. Both for Joe Miller. It was about 8:30 AM. Maybe other sign wavers were just waiting for daylight.

Please note the "Luv" charge on the one sign. That's the thing. It is a lie. Lisa Murkowski stood as a thorn in Obama's side. She showed him no love at all.

But you know what? When it comes to so much of campaigning, and certainly with this campaign, truth means nothing. It is an alien concept.

Wait... what is that just beyond them... just beyond the Harry Crawford sign? Is it a Scott McAdams sign?

I turn around in the Target parking lot, so I can go back and have a better look.

Yes, it is! It is a Scott McAdams sign!

I still didn't see any for Democratic gubernatorial candidate Ethan Berkowitz or his running mate, my friend of three decades, Diane Benson.

I love this valley, I love Wasilla, but, sometimes, it can feel like a very lonely place.

Now I am driving down Lucille Street, headed back home. The 9:00 AM hour is drawing nigh.

I pass by Metro Cafe, where people, Republican, Democrat, Independent and indifferent, are getting their morning coffee.

I will stop by this afternoon.

I could have pulled in to vote, but I will wait until later in the day. Then I will come back here to Tanaina Elementary with Margie and we will cast our ballots.

I continue on, towards home, and see a boy waiting for a school bus.

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Margie and I take Kalib and Jobe for five days, part 2: We dine on Fourth Avenue hot dogs, where Kalib and I intimidate a security cop

As explained in the first post of this day, Lavina had left early yesterday morning to attend a work conference in Las Vegas, I had driven to town to pick up Kalib, Jobe and Margie to bring them back to Wasilla, and Melanie had showed up to drive Jacob to the airport so he could join Lavina at her conference, but Jacob had not yet returned home from work.

Soon, he did return. He kissed his boys goodbye and then he left with Melanie for the airport.

Anchorage's seemingly interminable, record-breaking streak of consecutive rainy days - 33, I believe - had finally come to an end. It was a wonderfully warm, sunny, and beautiful day - the perfect kind of day to go downtown and buy hotdogs from a Fourth Avenue street vendor.

Margie agreed. I wanted to leave immediately, but Kalib had gone down to the family room, where his parents had put up a tent for him with a tubular passage to the entrance.

So many people have given Kalib so many amazing gifts that I can't get over it.

I found him in the tent. We spent a little bit of time throwing little plastic balls back and forth through the passageway.

Then Kalib had to do a little bit of golfing.

He golfs in the style of the great masters.

Kalib - the golfer.

Finally, we headed for the car. Before he got in, Kalib found a pretty flower, plucked it and held in in his hand.

I strapped both of my grandsons into their car seats - Kalib facing forward, Jobe facing backward. Seeing them strapped in like this made me think about the ever-present dangers of the road. I would be driving with precious cargo. I might encounter another driver or two or three or more who might do something stupid, something to make one's blood boil.

If so, I would just have to ignore it and drive on as steadily and safely as possible.

Then we were downtown on Fourth Avenue, where we were fortunate to find a parking space just 30 yards or so from RA hotdogs. Margie and Jobe stayed in the car while Kalib and I got in line.

This uniformed gentleman got in line behind Kalib. Naturally, I wanted a picture with him standing behind Kalib and it would be best as a low-angle shot, but I did not feel like crouching and getting down on my knees. One neat thing about the pocket camera is that I can hold it quite a ways from my face and still see what it sees in the lcd.

So I held it down a bit below my waist, framed the scene and then just as I pushed the shutter, Kalib moved, halfway out of the frame. This was okay - I like the picture this way - but I still wanted to get a frame with the uniformed man standing behind Kalib with Kalib's face visible.

So I tried again and I sort of got it, but on a bright day when I am holding the pocket camera a ways from my face, I can see the relationships of the more prominent shapes to each other, but some of the little details disappear, such as light fixtures in the background.

And so I wound up taking this image, with the light fixture appearing to be a goofy hat atop his head, or perhaps a bizarre implant.

I had to try one more time.

I decided that the only way that I could be certain to get the image as I wanted was to drop down to one knee so that I would be looking directly into the LCD and could clearly see all the detail.

At the moment that I dropped down and raised the camara, however, the uniformed man stepped backwards, in the belief that he had just exited the frame.

"You're part of the scene," I protested, "you don't need to step out of the picture."

"I really shouldn't be in the picture," he said.

But he is.

A close look at the shield patch on his shoulder reveals that he is a private security guard - for whom I do not know - not a municipal policeman.

I ordered Kosher beef with onions and potato chips for Margie, Kosher beef plain for Kalib and Kosher Polish with onions and chips for me.

It doesn't really matter to me if a hot dog is Kosher or not, but the menu was exclusively Kosher.

Margie and Jobe joined us on a nearby bench. The food proved excellent, the conversation stimulating. Kalib held up a potato chip and mused with wonder as to how such a thing ever managed to be created in a universe so vast, diverse and ALMOST entirely empty of potatoes as ours is.

Kalib grew quite excited when a formation of military jets, presumably from Elmendorf AFB, came flying by. "Jehhh! Jehhh!" he shouted as he pointed at the jets. Actually, he is pointing a bit in front of them. The jets are very difficult to see in this tiny reproduction. If you look very closely at the somewhat larger version in the slide show, a bit over the roof to the right of Kalib's finger, you can barely make them out as tiny dots.

They show up a little better in the original, full-resolution image, but even there they are tiny.

After the jets had flown by and we had finished our hot dogs, we burped politely and then climbed into the car headed towards Wasilla and home. Along the way, I was surprised to see that one traffic officer had pulled over another. I wonder if he had been speeding?

I'll bet he felt a little silly when he asked his fellow, "could I see your license, please?" They have probably known each other for years, perhaps decades.

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In part 3, Kalib and Jobe will arrive at their grandparents home. They will grow sleepy. I may post it tonight or I may post it in the morning. I am kind of sleepy myself and I have other things I need to do.

I stop at Mocha Moose, happen upon a bust on Wasilla Main Street and then photograph a polar bear that is about to travel to India

As I pulled up to the drive-through at Mocha Moose for my afternoon coffee break, I could hear Carmen's voice in my head, "Bill! Bill! Don't you go switching coffee houses on me while I'm gone!" As already stated, Carmen has shut down the Metro Cafe, all the way through the weekend.

When I pull up to her window Monday, Carmen will ask where I went while she was gone. I will tell her, "Mocha Moose." She will scold, "Bill! Bill! no, Bill!" and she will get a distressed look on her face.

I know this, because she always closes on Sunday and when I stop by on Monday, the conversation goes pretty much as stated above.

But, when the coffee you love is gone, you've got to love the coffee you can get.

Wasn't this the theme of an old rock-and-roll song?

There were three cars ahead of me when I pulled in and took the first picture. Now, there are two cars ahead of me and so I shoot the scene from where I stop again. That is Lindsey on the other side of the window and she will soon prepare an Americano for me.

Now there is only one car ahead of me. The people in the back seat of that car are watching an animated film on a tiny, flip-down screen. Lindsey serves them whatever it was they ordered.

Now Lindsey brings me my Americano. She gives the New Year a thumbs up. Optimism is good. I hope she is right.

Sorry, Carmen - but what was I to do?

As I prepare to drive away, three boys run across the parking lot. They seem to be having a good time. I remember when I was that age and would be running like this. It was usually because we were in some kind of trouble, or that we were happily imagining that we were.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not implying anything about these kids. I'm just remembering how we were, at the same age.

Three blocks away from Mocha Moose, on Wasilla's famous Main Street, I saw that the police had something going on. It was obviously not a routine traffic stop. It looked to be a bust of some kind. What I was most impressed about, though, was the amount of daylight that still lingered in the sky.

It was about 4:20 PM. We are only 12 days past solstice, and look how the light is already on the increase! It kind of gave me a feeling of impending spring.

That is a false feeling, and sometimes when people in Alaska get that feeling too early and then realize that it was all a lie, they go a little crazy. Sometimes, they go a lot crazy. Bad things can happen then.

They call it, "cabin fever."

Vidya Dixit, one of my nieces in India, stopped by on Facebook today for a chat. Whenever we get together, in person or online, we chat about animals. She was very worried about this polar bear, Nanuq. Vidya loves animals - even more than people, she says. I have seen her accept a blessing from an elephant. She has a beautiful daughter named Vaidehi, who is just a tiny bit younger than Kalib.

How fun it would be, to photograph Kalib and Vaidehi together!

Vidya is not in a situation right now where she can have any kind of animal living with her - not a cat, not a dog, not a mouse. She can look out the window and see a monkey now and then, but she cannot invite it into the family's living quarters.

So I told her I would send her a polar bear. "Really, Uncle? Really?" she queried.

I then took a quick trip to Barrow, went out on the ice and convinced this one to come back with me so I could send him to her, but in the insane rush that is my life, coupled with the insane crowd that filled the Post Office as Christmas approached, I never managed to send Nanuq off.

Today, I promised her that I will on Monday. She then insisted that I send her a picture of Nanuq tonight.

So, Good Niece Vidya, here is your polar bear. He will be coming soon. I know Chennai can get extremely hot, even though you are right by the sea. Please keep a block of ice for him to hang out on. I do not want him to melt.

On cool days, take him down to the beach and see if maybe a seal will come to him.

Nanuq loves seals.

I was about to go to bed when it suddenly occurred to me that if I were to type, "Vidya" into my computer's search engine, I might find a picture of her being blessed by that elephant. So I typed and I found. It is at a temple in Bangalore, less than a block away from the home of Murthy and Vasanthi, the parents of Vivek, who is married to my niece, Khena, daughter of my sister, Mary Ann. Vidya is married to Vijay, brother of Vivek.

I took this image in August of 2007, just days after the wedding of Vivek and Khena.

It's funny - when I look at this image now, I feel like I should just be able to close my eyes, open them up in India, walk out the door and go down the street to this place.

There are so many places that I have such feelings about.

How long will I have her? How much time will I get to spend with him?

My wife during the worst of her recent nights of suffering. I am a bit confused, folks. Anyone who has followed this blog at all has probably figured out by now that I am one of those people who cannot stay in one place for very long, a person who, just when he starts to get comfortable gets up and goes somewhere else.

Being a photographer and writer, I have been able to make a living, even if a scary one, always on the edge of disaster, doing this. Through my wanderings, I have even raised and supported a family.

But I have been so often gone from that family.

And lately, in my head, I have been planning and scheming on ways to get out and go, go - go again, travel again, leave everybody behind again. I have talked it over with Margie and she has said, yes, that is how you make a living and that is what you must do and I miss you but I will be fine. We will all be fine.

And now she gets hurt again and needs my care both day and night. I know that she will recover. but still, it makes me think. I have no statistics to back it up but I suspect that by this point in my life, probably 60 percent of all the people that I have ever met are dead and gone.

My time is limited. Her time is limited. The time for all of us is limited. How much longer will I have her? And how much of that time will I spend galavanting here and there?

Without ever taking on another job, I have enough work to do right now that I could spend every day for the rest of my life here, in this house, in my office, writing, and pulling photos together for this and that, working on all these unfinished books that I have constructed in part or in whole, just to tear apart and start all over again.

And if I did nothing else, I could never finish them all but I would be home and I could spend that much more time with her.

"Well," she said, "when you are home, you are always out in your office, day and night, working, and I don't see you anyway. But it is nice when I do."

And yet... I so greatly enjoyed the five weeks that I just spent on the Arctic Slope, and I saw so much potential work that I have yet to do there that I want to go back, again and again. Then there is the rest of Alaska, every region of which I have done work in but not enough - no, not nearly enough.

And India!

How did I ever wind up falling in love with India?

Well, I did. And I want to go back. Again and again. And the pages of the calendar just keep flipping past.

And then the truth is I lack the financing to do any of what I want to do, whether it be to travel, stay home, go here and there taking pictures and gathering stories, or to sit in my office to blog and make books.

Financially, my life is a nightmare. I am always riding the razor's edge, bankruptcy a thread away, yet, somehow, so far, every time I find myself going under a hand always seems to grab mine and yank me back up to the surface - but not out of the current.

And then how about this guy, little Kalib? He has helped his grandmother through this ordeal. 

And every moment that I get to spend with him is joy to me, even when he gets naughty. Why would I ever want to leave him? He changed so much in the seven weeks that we were separated!

I, a person who walks everyday, or rides a bike, or cross-country skis (I didn't this past winter due to still being in recovery from my injury but I sure plan to in the months to come) have only taken two walks since I returned home and Margie got hurt. Both were very short and Kalib came with me.

On one, we saw this boy. I have no idea who he is. A woman who appeared to be his mother was following behind and we stopped to ask her and to give her the address to this blog, but she had a dog with her and that dog raised such a ruckus that both she and I gave up and took our little people off in opposite directions.

Yesterday morning, after taking care of Margie's needs, I left her under Lavina's watch and took little Kalib to breakfast at Family. It was our first such outing alone together - just the two of us. I hope to have many outings with him. For some reason, I often picture the two of us, paddling a canoe through the wilderness together, stopping here and there to pitch our tent and cook our fish.

We will have rifles with us and if the country is beginning to turn red and yellow and the moose are in season, or the caribou, we will shoot.

These things may never happen, but in my mind I see them.

I don't know what could be much better than that.

Driving on, all the way to Palmer, we spot a woman telling a story to a cop. He appears to be most interested.

Before we left Family, Kalib went to the gumball machine. I reached into my pocket for a quarter, but I did not have one.

He still left happy.