Keeping An Eye On Talkeetna

July 2007. A wild and wonderful adventure in a Camper Van around and about Alaska. This trip comes close to belly dancing across the Sinai with a camel, in terms of memorability, and I bring it up AGAIN because it's February, I'm cold, and I'm in need of distraction. 

Being in need of distraction, I thought I'd take another look at the Talkeetna Historical Society's website, and low and behold, I am mining gold.

OK, we have The Onion Fayre, and this is special because, well, it's spelled with a 'y' for a start! What we DON'T have yet, is any activity involving the random placement of animal excreta. I have heard of Donkey Dropping versions of poo-roulette, but the Talkeetna Moose Dropping Festival aces that by miles. Convinced that no moose are  harmed in the pursuit of this brand of do-doo hilarity, I am happy to acquaint you with it's ins and outs.

Firstly, volunteers scour the surrounding bits of Eco-system for moose pellets. These are collected by the bucket full and  each individual presentation alloted a number.

Next up, these numbers are sold on to punters. They are then, thirdly, (pellets, not punters) taken aloft in an air balloon and dropped over the local baseball field. The final drama is the discernment of the winning turd, which must land near some vital piece of a baseball diamond, the name and purpose of which escapes me, not being a fan. 

Winner takes all. 

I can imagine how much fun this is. 

Whilst laughing like a drain over this simple rural past-time, my eye caught a more recent Moose Dropping Festival Event: The Mountain Mother Competition. Sort of convinced, the MMC may add a little more  fun-provoking mileage, I read on:

"A Mountain Mother contest was added to the Moose Dropping festivities in 1991. The only requirement was that the contestant had to be a mom...married or not. Starting with a "baby" in a backpack, feats included: walk a log in hip waders, carrying two buckets of water;"shoot" a balloon moose with a bow and arrow; "catch" a fish; chop up firewood; change the baby and wash out the diaper; make a "pie" and call in the kids. Winners get useful things, like an appointment at the local beauty shop for a haircut, manicure, and massage; a nice dinner out, and gift certificates from the local shops."

Speechless, and overcome by it all, I do recommend you visit, at least virtually, and find out about it for yourself:

http://www.talkeetnachamber.org/schedule/calendar/events-calendar

Jesus And Johnny

I am not a fan of Country and Western Music. Never will be. So I am very, very surprised to find myself moved to take up the tablet inspired by Johnny Cash. 

Yesterday would have been his eighty-second birthday. I would not have known this had it not featured on the WONDERFUL Canadian Public Radio show, 'As It Happens'. It turns out that a store keeper, somewhere In Canada, is serving baloney sandwiches and cake iced with black icing to raise money for the local Food Bank. My writer's seventh sense kicked in and I followed the conversation closely. It turns out that Johnny Cash always wore black in recognition of the suffering of humanity, and his belief in Jesus. 

I then reigned-in my critical faculties and listened to the 'Man In Black' song. I was deeply, deeply moved. Not by the Country and Western dum-de-dum, but by the powerful spirituality and gentle, authentic activism in evidence in Johnny's lyrics.

I have a Christian faith, of sorts, but am very wary of speaking about Jesus, because I can't bear to associate myself with groups who use the Name to propagate hate crimes. I do not wish to be counted with these people, so I have left the floor. 

Case in point: I am horrified by the growing anti-Gay persecution in Africa, encouraged and sponsored, I have learned, by ultra-conservative Western  'Christian' groups who have the sick, sick, idea that the Prince of Peace would be served by this. This is getting close to my heart. Time to take a step back.

Just in case you are under any illusion that I am in any way better than the believers who are out to kill gay people, I will confess that I am guilty of a being a gossip. There are other things I'm guilty of, but gossiping is more likely to be a mortal sin that you relate to than some of my more colourful backslides.

The thing is, gossiping appears in St Paul's list of things you'd better not do, right alongside fornication. Of any kind. So why, I wonder do we not have  African states, spurred on by evangelical whackos, legislating prison and execution for gossips? 

Stupid question. 

The Christ, whom Johnny Cash had more than a passing knowledge of, knew how easily we, the people, will fasten on to what we perceive to be other people's failings, rather than deal with our own. As if executing someone else, will make it easier to deal with the unsettling state of our own consciences. His solution, "Love one another. As I have loved you." WE are the ones to bare  our backs to whips for the sake of the dignity of others, and then be hung out to dry. WE have no mandate to do THIS to anyone else. How could such an obvious intent be so horribly twisted?

Time to draw this to a close. I doubt that I shall take to wearing black, but I have gained a deep respect for the man who did. 

An Antipathy to Human Resources

Back in Starbucks again, fearing it might become a habit. I added a cinnamon swirl to the bucket of coffe and an 'i'. I have an excuse - the motorey thinagabob that makes the steering work on the car has had a fit of the vapours, and has been sent away for an operation. So it was the Early Bus again, and a long wait.

I have an idea for a screenplay. It's not necessarily a GOOD idea, but one that I might make use of. Trouble is, being a poet, I've never written a screenplay before, so I reckon to start out by studying the craft. 

A few years ago, I essayed Creative Writing with The Open University, which made a nice change from the science and education units I pursued when relevant. In an excess of enthusiasm, I bought the follow-up Course Handbook, and when the same enthusiasm waned, I put it on the bottom of the book-heap and took up walking instead. But NOW the enthusiasm  has reasserted itself, and I am working my way through the exercises. It's not easy. 

I am minded to ask The Bucks to turn down the music so that I can eavesdrop on the conversations around me (current research), but after the fourth reference to Human Resources I am more inclined to ask them to turn it up. 

This isn't working, I type to myself, I may have to invent the conversations to make them more interesting. Oh! Look! Arnold Swarzenegger and Machiavelli have just walked in. THIS is more like it... . 

Smacked in the 'i'.

"Gimme the largest cappuccino!" I ask, refusing to say aloud the pretentious name it has been graced with. I was inclined to say, "Uno capaccino, venti por favor,"  but  that's not Italian and I MUST resist the temptation of going over the top. Give me under the bottom any day! (OMG, I've done it again!)

I wouldn't say I never come to one of these fancy coffee shops. Indeed, I had bought for me, one of these frothy things, in the original Starbucks in Pike Place Market, Seattle. Frankly, I think the Taj Mahal ranks higher. I rarely indulge, but that's not Starbucks fault. I'm just not a coffee drinker, and the tea here doesn't suit me. I suspect the water's not hot enough. 

I am here because my husband has the car to take Fr Brian to the station for the 1240 to London Paddington, and the most convenient bus (the one that picks me up and drops me off from outside my home - the 678 Gloucester To Newent Community Bus) leaves at 0718. As a consequence, I have 90 minutes to fill before the Salvation Army opens its doors to the Lunch Volunteers. 

So I am here with a bucket-full of coffee, free wifi, and a copy of the 'i'. (A comic-sized version of the left-leaning newspaper, ' The Independent'. )So given that I am about to immerse myself in the lives of our underclass, here's what hits me in the 'I'.

Ministers to scrap 'crucial safety net' for vulnerable families.

Wow! I thought our government, wedded as it is the empowerment and enrichment of the overclass, would have seen that off long ago! Way to go LibDems!!! 

Mother: Please help my son on Death Row

Come on USA! Join the civilised nations! 

'Prosecute blue-chip firms that spy on us'

I'm sorry? This isn't news. Blue-chip firms obviously never do anything illegal. They have lawyers who will prove this, as eny fule no.

Swearing fans delay screening of match

Bloody Hell!

Last Sound of Music family member dies

So long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersen, Goodbye...

Undecideds edge towards keeping Union after warning over pound

PLEASE stick with us Scotland. Without you, the Tories have us for ever. Or WORSE, UKIP. God help us.

Cavalli stops dressing actresses for red carpet.

Oh Lord! This means I shall have to go naked to the Oscars!

I am laughing so much, I am in danger of attracting attention. And before I alienate any more of my readership, I'd better stop right there.

If you have enjoyed reading this, buy a Big Issue at the next opportunity. Please. 

(Or even if you haven't! ;)