The chair - why was it sitting there?

As I walked through the snow that fell through the suddenly warm air today, I approached a cul-de-sac and saw this wheelchair sitting there.

Why?

I don't know.

I would like to think that the wheelchair sat there because the person who had needed it had been wheeling himself through the snow when suddenly he realized that he had become whole. So he stopped, stood up and walked away, never to look back at that chair.

I would like to think that this person was my own brother, Ron.

He lived in Riverside, California, and is buried in a suburb of Salt Lake City. I can't even remember the name of the suburb. There's so damn many of them there, jammed into so restricted an area, tight against the base of the Wasatch Range of the Rocky Mountains. 

Ron didn't want to be buried at all, but rather to be cremated, but my dear mother's religious beliefs thwarted his desire and who was I to stand against my grieving mother?

I have no idea why this wheelchair was sitting there.

Kalib causes us to go into town late

We had planned to go into town (Anchorage) today and we agreed that we would leave at 11:30, so that we could meet Melanie for lunch at 12:30. In the morning, I did a few things and then when the time neared, I took a shower. 

By the time I was dressed and ready to go, it was 11:30. I went out into the living room, expecting to see Margie and Kalib ready to go, too. But Margie was sitting there, her hair still in curlers, holding a sleeping Kalib against her body. She had not expected him to fall asleep there, as he never had before, but when he did, he felt so good to her that she did not move.

At my urging and with my help - I had to fetch jacket, mittens, booties - Margie finally got Kalib dressed and ready to go. She also freed her hair from the curlers. She did all of this without waking Kalib or getting up from where she sat.

Even now, she was reluctant to go.

But we did go, and along the way there and back, we came upon several scenes like this. The road was covered with the thinnest, nearly invisible, layer of ice. The temperature as we passed through this area was -22, F.

But we traversed them all safely.

Melanie did not mind that we were very late for lunch. 

Post-accident car shopping, part III: We try Wasilla

Soon it was the next day, Saturday, and I did not want to go to Kendall Ford. I didn't want to go back to Anchorage, either. I just wanted to stay home, but we had just over two days before we had to return the rental car to Enterprise and I had to get this car shopping done.

So I dropped Margie off at Wal-Mart after lunch and then headed to Kendall Ford, right here in Wasilla, Alaska. What you see above is what I saw when I got there, right after I stepped out of the rental car. For those of you who care about this kind of thing, the temperature was about -20 F (compared to -50's and -60's in several Interior Alaska communities).

This is Bob, the salesman who was standing at the door when I entered. He used to be a photographer in Livingston, Montana, before he left that state for Alaska to escape the teeming crowds. He immediately took my case and brought me into his cubbyhole. I told him that I was mighty interested in the Toyota RAV, but was willing to take a look at the Escape.

He said that the RAV was a real good car, but the Escape was even better. I told him the Toyota salesman told me that the Escape was a great car, but the RAV was even better. He said one could look up comparisons on the internet and then he was quite certain the Escape would come out ahead.

We talked about other aspects, too, like gas mileage, insurance, colors and such.

I was tired and sleepy, so he gave me a cup of coffee. I appreciated the generosity and the caffeine worked okay, but the coffee was not very good.

Bob elicited the help of a colleague named Steve to take me on a test drive of a red Escape, the color that I had requested. It took about half-an-hour for him to get it warmed up enough where he felt comfortable taking me out in it.

In the meantime, I chatted with Bob, and sipped very slowly on that coffee.

Here we go on the test drive. Driving the Taurus, even with winter-tires and studs, I have become accustomed to slipping and sliding a bit everywhere I go around here this time of year. The Escape just had factory tires and no studs. We searched out icy roads, one with a steep hill.

The Escape handled beautifully. It did not slip, it did not slide. As we approached an icy intersection, a guy in a pickup truck ran a stop sign right in front of us, within collision distance. I slammed on the brakes. The Escape stopped in short order.

After we returned, Bob wanted to make a deal with me right then, but I told him I had to discuss it with Margie and that I wanted to compare the Escape and the RAV on the web and sleep on it. I told him I still favored the Toyota, which I had never driven. I told him I would bring Margie back to see the Escape and go for a drive in it.

He said, "okay." He gave me a sheet with numbers on it, something neither of the other two salesman had done. That was where he had the advantage, because those numbers were better than the numbers for the Toyota.

I got on the computer and looked up many comparisons between the RAV 4 and the Escape. They consistently came out exceedingly close together, but with a slight advantage to the RAV.

After I picked Margie up from work and drove her home, I found an email from Bob in my computer. He had sent me a copy of the vehicle sticker. No other salesman emailed me any information. Margie wondered why I only looked at the Escape and the not the Fusion. So I sent an email to Bob and he responded with the same numbers for the Fusion.

Soon it was Sunday. I did not want to go back to Kendall and I did not want to drive to Anchorage. At noon, Jake, Lavina and Kalib joined me in the rental car and we drove to IHOP to meet Margie for breakfast. I had already eaten oatmeal earlier, but so what.

Here we are, driving to IHOP. It is cold weather that makes exhaust thick like this. I bet you could hardly even breathe in Fairbanks on this day.

Margie, Melanie, Lisa and Lavina all accompanied me to look at the Fusion. Margie had slipped on the ice in the Wal-Mart parking lot, had fallen and hurt her knee. She was pretty uncomfortable.

Steve set out to warm up the Fusion. After about 15 minutes, I grew impatient and wanted to take the test drive. "I don't want you to get cold," he said, "maybe we should let it warm up a little longer."

"We're Alaskans," I answered. "It's not going to bother us."

"Okay," he said, "we'll go now."

Here is Melanie, scraping off the windshield just before the test drive. The Fusion handled nice, but it did slip and slide a bit, as one would expect. Then we took another ride in the Escape. I wanted Margie to drive but her knee hurt too bad.

Afterward, of all the cars that we had looked at, Margie was leaning toward the Fusion. Melanie was working hard to find a way to steer us away from Ford altogether. I still liked the RAV best. Bob insisted that he did not want to pressure us, but he did want to make the sale before we left.

He said he had talked to the guy in the big office and he had told him that if we agreed to buy the car tonight, he would throw in an auto start - but only tonight. After tonight, the auto-start would not be available.

Even so, we left to go home and think about it. 

I am not quite sure how we came to what we came to, because all the time I liked the RAV best but had resigned myself to the Fusion but, come Monday, Margie and I were talking. We had to get the deed done before evening, because we needed to turn the rental car back in.

(I must note that Melanie offered to let us borrow her car for a week or two and she would walk about Anchorage and ride the bus and have Charlie take her here and there. It would be worth it, she said, to give us more time to think about it and make the right choice - but I could not take my daughter's transportation from her.)

I felt under terrible pressure. I did not want to drive back to Anchorage and start haggling with Toyota again. I did not want to go back to Kendall.

And then, somehow, we decided to go with the Escape.

So I called Bob and told him to get it ready, "but only if you throw the autostart back in," I said. "Otherwise, we go to Anchorage." When the time came, we drove to Kendall, but before we got there we stopped at A&W/KFC. Here we are, in the drive through. I don't know who the woman ahead of us is. Margie ordered chicken strips, mashed potatoes and Diet Pepsi. I ordered a hamburger and fries, plus Pepsi. 

I have no idea what the woman in front of us ordered.

We parked in the lot to eat our lunch. This raven came hopping to the car. The raven asked me for a french fry, so I gave him one. Or her one. How would I know?

Here we are, in Bob's cubby hole, the Escape that will soon be ours parked outside the window. I do not know who the man is, and I have no idea who he is talking to. I was kind of worried that he might lean against the Escape, but he didn't.

Bob said the man in the office was unhappy that he had thrown the autostart back in. 

One always wonders what really gets said back in the office.

So we financed the Escape for six years, at 4.7 percent interest. This is Ryan, the guy who put the financing together. He is punching numbers. Or maybe he is crunching them. We've got to pay them.

Just before we drive away, Bob points out things like where the coolant goes, how to find the dipstick, the head-bolt heater plug in - stuff like that. 

Then we drove off into the night, me in the Escape, Margie in the Caravan. Her knee still hurt, but she was able to drive it.

Sure enough, when we dropped the Caravan off at Enterprise, they blamed us for the chipped windshield. They hung on to our $50 deposit, said it would be used to fill in the chip and anything left over would be refunded back to our credit card. I protested, because we had nothing to do with any chip in the windshield. He said they had records and could only go by the records, but if someone else, somewhere else, found a record of the already chipped windshield, then we would get the whole $50 back.

I don't hold it against the guys behind the desk. They're just doing their job. Still, those little chips can be hard to see on a walk-around, hard to distinguish from beads of ice. So I am aggravated, to get charged by Enterprise for something that I had nothing to do with.

But that's how it is.

"I think we did the right thing," Margie said as we drove home. "I feel good about it. We bought an American car from an American company. We're bolstering the economy."

And not only that, but in our conversations with Bob, I learned that he has a cat, a Siamese. That cat is always there to greet him when he comes home from work.

Thanks to us, Bob can buy more catfood for that cat.

I feel pretty good about that.

IHOP Sunday: A toddler never escapes the gaze of another toddler; Who did you vote for, Wasilla pitbull? Car search begins: The Insurance Adjuster

Kalib and Cade spot each other at IHOP. I wonder if they might be buddies one day? Not if Lavina has her way - she wants the whole family, including us, to move back to Arizona as soon as possible. Margie does, too - at least for the winter months. Me, Alaska is my home and was my home before I ever even came here. I am an Alaskan, born into exile in the state of Utah. I am an Alaskan now and I was Alaskan then. Just the thought of living anywhere else damn near kills me. 

A little bit of time in Arizona each winter will be fine - if we can figure out how to afford it. 

And then what about Margie? She has given me nearly 28 year of her life in this place, where she freezes every winter and pines for her Native southwest. Don't I owe her something for that?

But to give up Alaska?

She likes it here in the summer and says that it is fine with her if we spend our summers here. She didn't much care for this past summer, though. It was a cold summer, and it rained and rained and rained and the rain was cold.

When a Mat-Su summer turns out nice, however, it is the sweetest summer in the world. No other place that I have been can produce such a sweet summer as does this valley. Even my Arizona girl agrees on this.

We stepped out of IHOP to find two dogs in a truck. I wonder who this pitbull voted for? And how did the dog get away with it? It's against the law for dogs to vote in Alaska. And why did the pitbull vote today? The election was not today. It was November 4.

Does this pitbull sometimes wear lipstick? I don't see any on it right now.

The pitbull wanted to kill me, but I bravely stood there and photographed it with my trusty G10 pocket camera. 

The Insurance Adjuster - Joey Seibet. Okay, I must back up to last week, just before New Year's, when the insurance adjuster for Progressive came over. We are insured with State Farm, but the cops cited the poor kid who rear-ended our Taurus with his GMC truck and they didn't cite me, so Progressive had to pick up the damages.

I was wary at first, expecting a battle. I guess in part because it is my health insurance that I have been dealing the most lately, due primarily to my accident in June and that company is a horrible organization. It makes promises when you sign on and then when the time comes, gives your case to a person who gets paid very well to sit in an office to find ways to allow his company to break those promises and to make you pay, even when you can't pay.

So I was expecting a battle, but Mr. Seibert proved easy to work with and he seemed to care.

Sadly for us, our nine year-old Taurus had almost 200,000 miles of Alaska driving on it and so its market value was many thousands of dollars less than what it would have cost to repair the damages. When that happens, they total a car out at its market value and give you a check for that amount, then they take the car and sell it to the junk man.

So we got $2,833 for our old Taurus. Enough for a down payment on a new car.

Now we are engaged in the miserable process of shopping for a replacement. I hate it. And when we are done, we will be saddled with monthly car payments, something that we have not had to face for several years. And, even with 200,000 miles on it, Alaskan miles, we had babied the Taurus engine and it was running smooth and sounded fine.

So, you see, even when the insurance adjuster is a fair person, you can still come out in a much worse spot than you were in before his client smacked you in the rear.

As for Mr. Seibert, he says that being an insurance adjuster around here right now is like "trying to take a drink of water from a fire-hydrant." That's because people are continually crashing on our icy roads. Alaskans like to deride Lower 48 drivers whenever they see them sliding around on the news after a snowstorm, but the fact is, Alaskans are forever sliding off the road and crashing into things.

Mr. Seibert says that he feels good when he is able to help a family out, but sad when he can see that the insurance company's liability falls short of their needs, especially when there are small children involved and people who have been hurt.

He does not deal with fatalities or injuries that involve broken bones. These go to someone else.

While he did not mind being photographed, Mr. Siebert expressed a worry that I would freeze, given that the temperature was close to 20 below, F. Ha! Me - a genuine Arctic photographer - and look at him, how he is dressed!

And he's taking pictures, too!

By-passed scenes from closing days of 2008: After being misrepresented and dissed on the Daily Show, her life moves on; a frightening face; light, shadows and footprints - both human and dog

I am a fan of The Daily Show. Even as this satirical romp makes me laugh, it also brings out larger truths that the real news media - especially cable news media - just flat out falls short on. If the Daily Show must sometimes take artistic liberty and even lie to get at that truth, I can understand, as their purpose is to create satire and comedy, not to report news. Yet, it still seems to me that what they did to Patti Stoll after they sent Jason Jones to Wasilla was unfair. She is not at all the person that one might think after watching the Daily clip on Wasilla.

A day or two before 2008 came to an end, I took a walk and soon found Patti, her hair highlighted by a nice fringe of frost created when her breath brushed her golden locks as it passed through the -24 degree (F) air. She was doing the same thing I was - walking. I have been running into Patti for decades. Before the developers took over the woods now known as Serendipity, tore down down the trees, cut out roads and built houses, I would be going one way on my cross-country skis and she would appear coming the other way on her's.

In the summertime, we would sometimes cross paths on foot as we walked opposite ways on wooded trails originally stamped out by moose. Other times, we would meet as we pedaled our mountain bikes up and down the roller-coaster hills. Always, we would stop and chat awhile. We still do, but now we meet along the road, or on the paved bike trail that runs alongside the extension of Seldon that was so recently punched through the woods to better serve the good people of Serendipity and anyone else who wanted to get to Church Road a little faster. 

I often affectionately refer to Patti as "the fit lady," because she always keeps herself in the best of shape and is not deterred by a little chilly weather. She does some amazing things - recently, she sailed the length of the east coast from the Carribean to Canada.

I asked about her Daily Show experience. She told me she had done a two-hour interview with Jason Jones, who had been very nice and had treated her with respect throughout. He had asked her what seemed to be serious and thoughtful questions and she had answered in kind. After two hours, he suddenly brought up the subject of drug abuse in Wasilla with one the healthiest-minded people in the community. 

The Daily Show editors then ignored the entire two-hour interview and zeroed in only on the drug-use portion, and even that was selectively edited and organized to make both her and Wasilla look as ridiculous, pitiful and foolish as possible. Also, she told me, the incredulous reaction of Jason Jones as he supposedly reacted to her words was taped later, then spliced in to appear as if that was how he had actually responded when it was not. It appears that he really put her on the spot.

And there were other liberties taken. In one scene, Jason Jones is shown walking down the divider between the north and south bound lanes of the Parks Highway while pretending to be walking down Wasilla's Main Street - kind of like placing a reporter in the middle of Highway 95 where it passes through Manhattan while talking about Broadway at Times Square.

Still, the underlying fact is that, to suit her political purposes, Wasilla's former mayor, Alaska's current governor and recent Republican Vice-Presidential candidate also depicted Wasilla to be an entirely different kind of place than it is.

As for Patti, she has shrugged the experience off as just something odd that caught her in the midst. No big deal. Although she may have to travel a little further from her house than she used to to get to it, there is snow to be skiied over and trails to mountain bike. There are oceans to sail.

After I took Patti's picture, I wondered what I looked like. So I turned the camera back on myself. Now I know why little kids scream, cry and flee when they see me coming. 

Also as I walked, just before New Year's, I came upon shaft of light that had traveled down the road known as Tamar. The time was about 1:00 PM, which is just about solar noon here. At its zenith, the sun was high enough to find its way down the road, but not high enough to reach over the tree tops on either side of the road.

I walked a ways up that shaft of sunlight, then turned around to see what it looked like behind me. I saw that the legs in my shadow had become very long, yet my shadow body was very short.

Someone walked through the marsh with a little dog, which perhaps turned around and ran in the direction from whence they came.

I had one more picture from late last year. It is of the insurance adjuster who works for Progressive, the company that insured the vehicle driven by the kid who rear-ended me the night before Christmas eve.

For the past two days, I have been suffering the the misery of shopping for a car to replace our faithful but now totaled Taurus. I have at least one more day of such misery to suffer through. Every now and then, as I suffer this ordeal, I lift my G10 pocket camera and take a snap. So I will photo-blog the experience. I will begin tomorrow, with the picture of the Progressive insurance adjuster.