The 3rd World

Heard on the radio this morning Alaska has the second slowest Internet speed in the country. Thanks Arkansas.

You see, this is why I talk about the ephemera of our lives here, and not, for example, some other pressing, present-day news, like, for instance, the collapse of the housing bubble, the killing of Osama bin Laden (did you hear!), the breakup of REM (sad!), where Jimmy Hoffa was really buried (No!), etcetera, etcetera.. It all makes sense to me now. By the time reports of these matters get through the wire and into my computer it’s already stale news.

In addition to glacially slow Internet, we are in many other ways quite third worldly up here. Many of our roads resemble lunar scape, per capita we have the most people on welfare of any state (a self deprecating joke comes to mind here but I resist out of respect to Happy Wife who has grown tired of such (hi Honey!)), we have the seventh most corrupt state politics (thanx Alabama), and a sizable portion of our population has no access to the basic services of modernity like running water, a flush toilet, or a 7-Eleven. Fresh fruits and vegetables, are you kidding? I’m talking about people who still poop in a 5-gallon paint bucket and empty it now and then in a hole in the ice:

The bucket is emptied when it becomes full or starts to emit foul odor; usually once a day for large families, and about once a week for smaller families. A honey bucket well is a hole in the ground, capped with a raised wooden enclosure or none at all.

Delightful:

But we do love our ice cream. Reason? The answer’s in the name. For most of the year in most of the state you can swing through a drive in, get a triple scoop cone, set it in the drink holder and go do an hour of shopping, return to the car and your treat will still be there, unchanged!

But if you ask me the most deeply disappointing — nay, depressing — feature of our third worldliness is that we don’t have our own PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL TEAM. I know, right?

And so, true to my roots, I root for the Packers. Accordingly, expect to find me at the Peanut Farm (PF) early this afternoon, say around 3 pm, earlier than most people go to a bar I realize, but you see PF is like a major Cheesehead hangout in Anchorage, and given the Pack is playing the reigning world champions tonight (4:30 pm, AKST) in the first regular season NFL game, I expect the place will be mobbed. And there is nothing more relaxing than imbibition with those of like mind. So I took HW to work this morning and told her to find a ride after work and have them drop her at PF. “I’ll have a bar stool waiting for you, dear.”

Let us hope the game feed isn’t over Alaskan Internet. I’d like to see Aaron Rodgers put one in the end zone at the very same instant the rest of you do!

What’s that? You want that I should take a photo of myself and HW at the bar caught up in the gala of the event? You want more Nibbe ephemera?! Can do. Stand by. And thank you for asking!