iPhone fun; a dearth of human contact; I hang out with cats and communicate with a fish

Yes, Michelle, I did get my iPhone* - just before I left for Barrow. It is such a long and absurd story and I have had so many things going on that I could not bring myself to tell it.

In fact, I cannot bring myself to tell it now, either. Basically, though, you will recall that I took the gift cards that Jacob and Lavina had given me for Christmas into the local At&t store where I was informed that they would cover the cost of an 8 gig phone, but I could get a 16 gig for $100 more. I did not want to pay $100, so I purchased the eight gig phone and the entire transition took about five minutes. 

When it was done, the salesman gave one of my gift cards back and told me that it still had $48 in it. That meant that I would actually have had to pony up only $52 for the 16 gig phone. That wasn't so bad, so I decided to go for it. The salesman said "okay," then attempted to complete the transaction.

About an hour later, he determined that, for some reason incomprehensible to me, he could not just transfer the funds that I had already paid straight over to the 16 gig phone. Instead, the funds had to be put back into the card, but they could not be put in for 24 hours.

"So come back in 24 hours," he said.

So I came back 24 hours later and a lady set about to complete the transaction. She took my extra $52, which actually came out to $53, and had me sign everything that needed to be signed. In the end, she could not complete the transaction, either. "The money is still not in the cards," she told me. "It will take ten days for the money to be put back into the cards. Come back in ten days."

Oh, boy... I just can't go on with this story. Let it be enough to say that each day for the next eight, a lady from At&t by the name of Elaine would call and we would talk - the first time for a good hour. Elaine would promise to get the situation taken care of so that I could pick up my phone within the day.

After a few days, she expressed great puzzlement as to why the money was going back into the cards at all, as the policy was to refund cash directly back to the customer, in which case, she said, I should have been able to get my iPhone that very first day.

Finally, three or four days after that, eight days after I made the original purchase, she figured out some way to bypass whatever convoluted thing had happened and to have the saleslady take the cards from me, cut them up and have me the pay the $53 all over again - then I could leave with my phone.

So eight days was better than ten.

I love the iPhone. It is so many things besides a phone. For example, if I photograph someone and then ask their name so that I can identify them in this blog, all I have to do is turn on iPhone dictation, speak that name and when I need it, there it is. So now I have no excuse ever to forget a name again.

But here is the curious thing: I have already used the dictation feature with a few names, but when it came time to do the blog I remembered the names even without opening the iPhone. However, there have been other names that I did not put into dictation, thinking that I would remember them, but when the time came, I had forgotten.

And of course I can now take pictures with my iPhone. The quality is terrible, but its still kind of fun and then I can send the picture to someone else.

Like this picture of Royce, for example. Melanie has been very worried about Royce and has spent much money on his care and diet, and now I can send his picture from my iPhone to her's and type, "well, he's taking his medicine, eating his soft food, and he's doing okay. The fish are doing pretty good, too."

Speaking of which, with Margie gone and me back from Barrow, I have almost no human interaction but tend to socialize only with cats and fish. I did see Caleb very briefly this morning. I woke up debating whether to cook oatmeal or go back to Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant. 

I was leaning towards oatmeal, with berries cooked into it, but then I heard the sounds of him playing war video games with his friends from around Alaska and the world. I heard the gunfire and the explosions, and the excited tone of his voice as he communicated with his team members as they battled the enemy.

I did not want to eat oatmeal in the middle of a battle, nor did I want to interrupt Caleb's game. My head felt groggy. I did not know if I could deal with cooking oatmeal and brewing coffee. I did not want to add more dishes to the pile. I knew that if I went to Family, I wouldn't have to.

I punched the auto-start to the car. Even before I left my bed, the car began to warm up.

"Hi Dad," Caleb when finally I stepped out, even as he blasted away at a enemy who dodged and blasted back at him.

"Hi Caleb," I said. Then I went to Family. There, I spoke briefly with my waitress, and with the lady behind the counter who took my money. As she was getting my change, I saw these folks admiring this baby, so I pulled my pocket camera out of my pocket and shot this scene and that was the total of my human interaction there.

"How was breakfast," Caleb, still fighting, asked as I reentered the house.

"It was good," I said.

I checked my email, then took off on my walk. I saw but one person, and he was atop a hill, about half-a-mile away from me. I did not see a moose. I did not even see a dog. I did see this raven, flying overhead. He had nothing to say to me.

Sometimes, ravens have lots to say, but not today - not this one.

And I saw this military jet.

And this airplane, which looks a lot like my crashed Running Dog. But I encountered no people.

By the time I reached home, Caleb had gone to bed. I came right out here to my office, sat down at this very computer and struggled to work. I don't know why I struggled, but I did. There was nothing unusally hard about the work, but sometimes, even when its easy, I struggle. I can barely do it. I find it almost impossible to put down a single word. It can take me hours to write two paragraphs.

And so it was today.

Finally, it was 4:00 PM, coffee break time, time to get back intp the car, grab an Americano and listen to the news. I had to drop off a bill, too. Along the way, I saw this kid. I said nothing to him. He was completely unaware of me and I'm pretty sure that's how he wanted it to be.

"Look!" said when I pulled up to Metro Cafe. "It's light! It's not dark. It's here, Bill. It's here." By "it" she meant light of course.

"Yep," I said, "it sure is."

"I've had a really good day today. It's been busy."

"That's good," I said. I want Metro Cafe to stay busy, because busy means staying in business.

"It's because we have lunch sandwiches now, and soup," she said. "People are coming for lunch."

"I will have to try your lunch, sometime," I said.

"Yes, you must," Carmen agreed.

And that would be the closest that I would come to having a conversation today.

When I saw this little girl exit her school bus, I thought that it really is a good thing that the light is back.

The road was slippery, though. One can never take an icy road for granted.

The moon is growing. I rolled down the window and shot a few frames as I drove down Church toward home. Except for the occasional glance, I did not look at it as I drove, but I knew where it was. I knew where to point the camera.

Wasilla moon.

Then I came back here to my office and here I have been ever since, not counting the half-hour that I spent inside the house, reheating some black bean soup that I made yesterday and then eating it, with applesauce for dessert. Just before 10:00 PM, I heard the sound of Caleb's footsteps as he walked from his room through the house and to the front door.

I heard the door open. I heard the door close. Caleb was gone.

At about 11:30 PM, I looked over at the parrot fish and saw him looking back at me, obviously wondering what I was up to. I have had him for eight years and for all but the first few months of that time, he had lived in the 55 gallon tank that I gave to Kalib just before I left for Barrow. I gave Kalib all the other fish that were in that tank, plus the giant plecostomus that had lived alone in the 90 gallon tank ever since the two big oscars died.

I am very fond of the parrot fish, and he likes me. He is smart, too. Very smart. He is the smartest fish that I have ever known. Some people think oscars are smart and they are, but they're not as smart as this guy. I could not bear to give him away, so I put him in the 90 gallon tank, which sits three feet to my right and kept him here with me.

Yesterday, I bought a little cichlid to go with him. It was yellow in the store, but it has been blue here. I also bought a little plecostomus, to be a house keeper.

"Hi, fish!" I waved.

The parrot waved back with the fin on his right side. "Hi, Bill!" he shouted.

I told you he is smart!

Who needs human interaction, when he has a fish such as this?

*see comments, previous post

I return to Wasilla and then kick about around town

It's about time this blog just kicked around Wasilla for bit. I begin in the parking lot outside Mat-Su Valley Family Restaurant, where this little American flag fluttered in the breeze from the back window of someone's car.

And this was one of many scenes inside, where the ham, eggs, hashbrowns, toast and coffee were all very tasty. Margie won't return from being snowed in down in Arizona for another full week yet. I will probably wind up here again a time or two between now and then.

In the afternoon, I took a walk with a half moon above.

I had not walked far before this dog came trotting down the street, eager to meet me. I was afraid that it would want to follow me, but it only wanted to say, "hello." Then it turned around and returned from whence it came.

This dog's name is Sampson. He was walking with a woman named Summer, and a black and white dog named Cher.

A little further along, I came upon a young man sitting on a four-wheeler going nowhere. "You're not broke down, are you?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I ran out of gas and then my battery died." Someone had gone to pick up what he needed to get going again.

"Bill is my name," I said.

"Good to meet you, I'm Eric," he said, as he extended his hand.

We shook hands.

"Good luck," I said.

Then I walked away, leaving him to sit on his machine to wait for gas and a battery.

An airplane flew overhead.

On my coffee break, I took the car to the gas station. As I was filling the tank, I heard the whistle and the clacking rumble of the train coming down the tracks.

"Damnit!" I said, because my camera was buried deep in my pocket and I did not know if I could get it out and turned on before the engines passed by.

It was a big challenge, but I did it and here is proof.

As always, when the train rumbled by, it gave me a thrill.

Then I was back in the car, and as I approached Kendall Ford, I began to pass a long truck, with a flatbed at the back. On the flatbed were two vans, both of which claimed to have fire extinguishers inside.

This is the trailer of the same truck. As you can see, it is an Alaska truck.

And this is the cab, now falling behind me.

And here I am in the parking lot outside of Pet Zoo, where I have stopped to buy Royce some good, healthy, soft, cat food. I did a self-portrait of myself, with this dog.

He must have been scraping ice. It's been so long since Wasilla has had anything but a token snowfall. Early December, maybe.

I passed these kids on their snowmachines.

I saw these people walking down Spruce Street.

Late at night, just before they closed, I drove to Dairy Queen, where a young woman named Ashleigh sold me a vanilla cone dipped in chocolate. The temperature was right about 0 degrees (-18 F); much warmer than when I made my first trip to the new Dairy Queen last January.

Then, the temperature was about -30 (-35 C). Last winter was much colder than this winter, all over Alaska. This has been a warm winter for us, even as it has been a cold winter for people down south.

Poor Margie. Snowbound and freezing in Arizona.

Flying home, part 2: Study through Window Seat 1D, Alaska Airlines Flight 52: passengers boarding in Fairbanks

Study through Window Seat 1D, #1:  Many people got off the plane in Fairbanks, but all passengers traveling on to Anchorage were asked to stay on board. 

So I did, and then I noticed these two guys through Window Seat 1D.

Thus I began my study.

I am pretty certain that within 45 minutes of when I post, I will begin to receive calls from the most prestigious museums in the world, from places like New York, Paris, Singapore, Tokyo, London, Rio De Janeiro, Delhi, Dubai, Adis Abeba, Rome, and Winnemucca.

They will all want to hang this study on their walls. And they won't even have to frame the images, because they're already framed.

"Thank you, Bill," the curators will praise, "for saving us the cost of the frames."

Study through Window Seat 1D, #2: Alaska Airlines employees remove the trash that accumulated on Flight 52 during the Barrow-Fairbanks segment.

Perhaps the empty bag that once contained the pretzels and nuts that was given to me free of extra charge by Alaska Airlines is in that bag.

If so, then this is a truly historic moment.

If not, then, so what?

Study through Window Seat 1D, #3: One of the two guys from Study #1 returns - the one with the long bill on his cap.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #4: The guy seems to feel slightly self-conscious about his tie - or maybe its cold out there and he is trying to cover a little more of himself with his jacket. Except for the cap, he looks like a pilot. 

Maybe that's a pilot's cap and I am just behind the times, and didn't know.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #5: The first of the Fairbanks passengers comes down the chute - and she is mighty cute.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #6: The woman who appears to be her mother guides her along her path. This is what mothers do.

I see another little hand behind her. Who could it belong to?

Study through Window Seat 1D, #7: Why, it's The Little Boy in Blue! He is well-prepared to take a nap.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #8: The woman who succeeded in boarding with three carry ons.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #9: If the situation had been reversed, had it been me walking down that chute towards the door and this gentleman sitting by seat 1D with a camera in his hands, then he could have taken my picture.

But that's not how it was.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #10: Some people carry their bag into the plane, some people roll them. This lady is one of the rollers.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #11: Not long ago, she was in the cold. Now she is about to enter the warmth of the airplane.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #12: You first. No, you first. No, you've got a rolling bag - you first. No, you - you're tall, and you might bump your head, so please go first!

They were both too late. It was the little girl in Study #5 who entered first.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #13: I thought that she should have brought one for every passenger on the plane and the pilots and stewardesses, too.

I wound up ordering cranberry juice. Even on the short hop from Fairbanks to Anchorage, you can do that in First Class. In coach, you have a choice of water or orange juice.

And to think, I wound up in First Class by chance, with a coach ticket, and got all this extra service that I was undeserving of.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #14: The girl in blue; the man in the green vest. For some reason, I think the man in the green vest likes to hunt ducks. But maybe he doesn't. Maybe he is a vegetarian and only eats tofu, asparagus and lentil beans.

Study through Window Seat 1D, #15: As do all studies, this one must come to an end and so it does, right here.

Yet, when one study ends, a new one can begin. Right after I took the final picture of the previous study, a couple, who looked to be in love, entered the plane. The woman sat down beside me, in Seat 1C, where I had been originally. The man sat down in Seat 1A, by the window on the other side of the aisle.

This did not seem right, so I offered to trade places with the man.

Once I took his seat, I lost the view of passengers exiting the chute to board the plane.

After all the Fairbanks passengers had boarded, this scene appeared before me:

Study from Alaska Airlines Flight 52, Seat 1A: Stewardess on the Other Side, After the Door Has Been Closed

Rex picked me up in my car, then he drove me to the driveway of his basement apartment and we sat in the driveway and talked for quite awhile.

Above, in Melanie's house, the lights were on even though it was after midnight. So I went up and visited Melanie and Charlie.

Then I drove home, got to bed about 3:00 AM, took a few hours sleep and then had breakfast at Family Restaurant.

As I waited for my food, this girl walked by my window. At the moment I took this picture, she is looked straight into my eyes, but the camera was out in front of me a ways.

I wonder what she thought of me?

I probably looked old and frightening.

This fellow must have been thinking about something happy.

Now I will post this and then drive to Anchorage to see my family members there.

My next post will include a Kalib/new-baby-in-waiting update.