Leaving Macon

A few days ago on Facebook, I saw that a few friends were saying their goodbyes; one leaving Macon for a job in Savannah one leaving for a job in Alabama, and the other leaving for parts unknown. If it had been 2 years ago, I would have lamented their desire to leave. Stacey and Jonathan were doing so much for Macon, culturally and spiritually,  Chace and Katie made Macon a great place to stay as both are creative minds who help hold their community together, and Floco Torres has been a part of my Macon music scene since I started living downtown. I can’t even imagine the scene without him. 2 years ago, I didn’t know that I was only months away from taking steps to leave Macon and possibly for good. But now that I’m away, I can see the positives in this step for these friends.

One Thing: The Mendenhall Glacier

It was beautiful today and still I planned to stay home watching tv. It’s a symptom rather than a problem. I have been watching my money for so long that I don’t go out and meet people in a casual setting lightly lubricated by alcohol. When I do go out, I am solitary because I don’t know anyone who have the freedom to get out when I do… They have kids or desire to stay home because while all of this stuff is new to me, it is old hat to them. So I find myself lamenting my aloneness and wallowing, though I wouldn’t have called it that before I had my “come to Angel” moment. It was kind of a spiritual experience where I saw my myself becoming something of a recluse, holing up in my house, me and the cat driving each other crazy… And I realized that though I did not make my friends quickly in Macon, I did start meeting people right away when I came back.

But first, this beautiful day.

This, my friends, is the Mendenhall Glacier. It was originally known as Sitaantaagu (“the Glacier Behind the Town”) by the Tlingits. The glacier was named Auke (Auk) Glacier by naturalist John Muir for the Tlingit Auk Kwaan band in 1888. In 1891 it was renamed in honor of Thomas Corwin Mendenhall. It extends from the Juneau Icefield, its source, to Mendenhall Lake and ultimately the Mendenhall River. (Wikipedia)

All I know is it’s frakkin’ beautiful!

The rock in the foreground was revealed when the glacier receded. It’s been retreating sing the 1700s.

Look at that! At one point, this area was completely under the ice.

Mendenhall Lake began to form in 1931.

In the winter there is ice skating.

Snow capped mountain near the Glacier.

Going to the Glacier was my reward for getting a job. However, working really takes something out of you, so it took me a month to make it out. I’ve done a few other things on the weekends, but visiting the Glacier was definitely worth the wait!

If you’re a lover of nature, this is a place you should put on your list.

I followed the path down to the lake and gazed out at towards the Glacier. Next time, I’ll visit Nugget Falls, which will require a hike. Maybe in the spring when it starts to get warmer.

I’ve not seen everything Juneau has to offer yet knowing that there is more to see is something I adore about this town. It’s hard for the people who live here to believe. They scrunch their shoulders together in anticipation of a negative comment when they ask me how I like the rain or how I like it here. None of them can believe I chose to come here in the fall/winter when it’s Juneau at its worst – at least in their minds. This journey has been fantastic and the Glacier is only the start of the wonderful things I will see and experiences I will know.

Halloween in Juneau

I love Halloween. Finding a costume idea, finding a way for my finances to afford that idea, putting together my costume at the last minute, unintentionally scaring the bejesus out of little children, giving out candy, and taking it to the porch when the little ones have been carried home for some drinking and carousing. Maybe we walk downtown and enjoy what the bars have to offer, maybe we don’t. Then the night ends with us at some after hours spot wondering if it’s worth taking the cab 3/4 of a mile to our homes.

This year, Halloween was different. I didn’t plan a costume because I was only a month into my job and my first paycheck barely covered (read: doesn’t cover) my first of the month bills. No worries. The 2nd paycheck will more than make up for that. I was offered a borrowed costume from a bartenders of my favorite establishment, but I never took her up on the offer.

At first I told myself it was because I wasn’t ready to be “out and about” in Juneau. I have to get some things taken care of, I have to be responsible, I owe it to myself to make it work in Juneau, etc. But really, I was scared. What if no one here loves me?

I can hear the people who already love me. “Inconceivable!” “Not possible.” “Everyone loves you.”

Well, not everyone loves me and I do appreciate the love I have in Macon, but you guys don’t know what a hard act you are to follow. Could I be as good a person to the peoples of Juneau as you guys have helped me become? Would I make the kind of friends that would engender the kind of helpful devotion that I have offered to Maconites and they have offered to me? And was that even what I was looking for as I spent my time in Juneau? Should I just sequester myself in my mock “cabin in the mountains” and write until I was making as much from writing as I did for my day job?

Hell no! Well, yes, but Halloween night? No.

So the first bar was exactly like I thought going out by myself on Halloween would be. Groups of friends hanging out with each other never needing the addition of a new face. I stood alone in the center of it all fully inhabiting my alone-ness. So I went to a smaller bar. At The Triangle, there were a mass of costumed bodies seated and milling but the first to greet me was much closer to the ground. Someone’s puppy stopped my progress demanding love as if he knew me. I pet him and when the owner apologized I said, “Usually, I’m not a fan of dog,” while trying to fully embody my made up cat burglar costume. He, of course, did not get it because I was wearing a dress and tights. He looked really sad. So I laughed and, taking the purr out of my voice, told him what I was. I ordered my beer, asked about his dog, introduced myself and said I’d only been here for 2 month. When I told him I almost didn’t come out his incredulous face reminded me so much of my friend Brian O’Dell. You know how you meet someone who reminds you so much of someone else that you instantly grant them your trust as a friend? That’s what happened with Jake. He was dressed like an inmate from Jailhouse Rock. He was there with his dog, Gravy, and was waiting on his wife while drinking and celebrating the 2nd biggest Juneau holiday. He asked me who I was meeting. I said no one. “What? Hey, Karl! This is Angel!” And just like that I was introduced to a dizzyingly large number of people… well, at least for one night and in a town of 33,000 people.

Don’t I look very cat-burglar like?

From The Triangle I was asked to go along to the Alaskan where this bluegrass band was playing. We drank, I tried a Ranier – Juneau’s version of High Life – and I actually had a grown up conversation. Well, after we helped the bartender deal with the girl passed out next to us. Then all my new friends went home because they sleep like normal people while I went to The Viking for late night karaoke.

My night ended with karaoke. I was drunk enough that I thought I sounded good while singing. Which means I had fun. The weird thing about being in a new city is that, after all that, I was still ready to do more. No after hours club (oh how I miss BJs and Recess), no house ready to take up the gauntlet for more fun (well, there might be, I just don’t know them yet), just me having to climb a very steep hill except…

I was driven home by a maxi pad and a Power Ranger (I think). I was also invited to a Thanksgiving that involves a hot tub. I’ll report if there’s any nakedness.

Back To the Future: The Time People Thought I Was Tom Wilson’s Wife

In 2000, I took part in a month long writing for Hollywood workshop called Act One. They didn’t have a tv writing track yet, but I was the only tv writing person in the group. While others were learning to write about movies from showrunners and movie script writers, I was showing off my Frasier script to the Director of Act One who became my mentor. There was a part of me that really wished I was paired with the writer from the Fresh Prince of Bel Air or Buffy the Vampire Slayer (he wrote my favorite episode of Buffy where Seth Green realized he was a werewolf) but my mentor was actually very fantastic. Not only did she help me stretch my humor muscles but she gave me fantastic advice about television writing that if I had pursued it at the moment, I might be writing for the Walking Dead right now.  Maybe then T-Dog might still be alive.

Anyway.

An Open Letter to Apple on the Placement of the Power Button

Apple, remember that time when you lead the technology market?

You would take something basic that we all took for granted and make it so extraordinary that we would all clamor for this thing, paying whatever price, weeping with barely concealed gratitude if we got that thing before everyone else.

Thoughts While Hiking

I started my Mount Roberts hike with some trepidation. I wasn’t sure I would make it. But, mainly, I didn’t know how my first hike alone would go.

I’m not much of a camper and the only sleeping bag I’ve owned was given to me the day before I left on this trip. I was somewhat prepared. I made sure I had a lot of water. I had snacks (Although I forgot that I hadn’t eaten any breakfast). I had a phone with GPS (which I didn’t realize doesn’t actually work on a mountain. It kept telling me I was a mile from the trailhead and I was 2 hours into my climb. The fuck you say!) I had my windbreaker just in case it got cold.

I didn’t have tissue. One thing you find out as you climb for 3 hours… tissue is very important.

But then, you also have some very weird thoughts as you walk. Well, at least I did.

One Thing: Hiking Mount Roberts

Oh. My. God. What was I thinking?

It all started on Daughter’s Day. My mom said she would be willing to help me financially as I tried to find a job. It wouldn’t be much, but it would be better than nothing. Then she counseled me to get out there. Do stuff! Don’t be afraid!

Who took over my mom’s body and put the words I needed to hear in her mouth?

Okay, so I don’t know what got into me, but when she said that I immediately thought, “Climb a mountain.” I mean, Mt. Roberts was the “easy” hike. Nevermind that I didn’t know where the trail started, what an easy hike looked like, if the people who complained that it wasn’t easy but was actually moderate were correct, etc.

This is the mountain opposite the mountain I climbed.

 

I’m Not Homesick Except When I Am

My current Juneau experience bears a few striking similarities to my situation in Macon.

• I live 8 minutes from downtown (well, at least going)
• I have to walk uphill to get home (though the degree difference is striking)
• My apartment is perfect for me
• My landlord is great.
• I spend a lot of time with Netflix

One Thing: The Flume Trail

I’m here. It’s Juneau, Alaska and it’s beautiful. There is a part of me that wants to play it safe because I have no money and no job. But there is also a part of me that has to take advantage of this free time, the mild weather, and this natural beauty. I’m trying to do one thing – a day, a week, a month depending on my time.

Well, my time and the rain. And the snow.

I decided to try the Flume Trail. According to Alaska Electric Light and Power, “Juneau merchant Willis Thorpe installed a water wheel and an electric generator on the banks of Gold Creek. It was 1893, and his fledgling power plant soon had a name: Alaska Electric Light and Power Company. Today, a sophisticated hydroelectric facility now marshals the power of Gold Creek. The old water flume, however, still remains. The trail that runs adjacent to the flume has become a popular hiking trail.”

I drove with my first new friend, Jo, to the top of the Flume Trail. On the left side of the road, Gold Creek flowed. It was beautiful.

In With the New

I’m only two weeks into my time in Alaska, but it’s been a month and a week since I left everything I know with only the things I could fit in the back of Truck Norris (my version of “with nothing but the clothes on my back”). I traveled thousands of miles, spent many hours communing with my truck and scared cats, lost a cat, was in fear of not being able to make it and then, once I got here, am still afraid that, after all of that, after everything, I will not be able to close the deal on Alaska.

It’s not that I’m afraid of coming home in “disgrace” because that doesn’t exist. I had an adventure. I saw things I’ve never seen before. I pushed myself. I fell down and picked myself up. Sometimes I did it by myself and sometimes with the help of others. I learned things about myself I’m still trying to sort out. I learned things about others that helps me continue my optimistic view of the world while still learning more about how to protect myself. I could go back to Macon right now and be satisfied with this part of my adventure.