An Alaskan Icon September 30, 2010

Over the course of the last couple of weeks, some very old memories have returned, reminding me of some of the things that are uniquely Alaskan, and which I had TOTALLY forgotten for years. One of them is Pilot Bread. This is hardtack, pure and simple, and it is still on the shelves of Alaskan stores. Made by Interbake Foods, they are usually only sold in Western and North Pacific markets, although I understand it is possible to order them if you know somebody who knows somebody, if you feel sufficiently curious to try them.

In the olden days, if you went to visit a Native family you got coffee (always fresh, always on) with evaporated milk and sugar, and Pilot Bread spread with butter and jam. The Native version of “high tea” I guess, and was considered a great honor.

The crackers are about four inches in diameter, so each one is a substantial snack, especially after it’s been in your stomach for a little while. It’s a good idea to start small, and only eat a half or a quarter of a cracker to begin, in order to gauge your capacity. It’s also good broken into pieces (a serious task that takes muscle and maybe a screwdriver) and put into a bowl with milk and sugar. Leave to sog up a bit overnight. A passable “graveyard stew,” as my dad used to call it.

The possibilities are limited only by your imagination. The crackers are unsalted, so they are not only hard as boards, they are bland and virtually tasteless. I think you could probably use one over several times, if you were having it with Sloppy Joe mix or chili. Just lick the goodie off and refill. Nothing you can do to them will diminish their true character. It makes a good dog biscuit, too, among other things, if you can get a dog to eat one.

At any rate, Pilot Bread is decidedly an acquired taste. It is virtually indestructible. It has only one natural enemy, and that’s moisture. It’s a survival food of the first order, a not so pleasant break from MRE’s or Mountain House, and as long as you have water, pilot bread, and pemmican or smoked salmon, you can survive almost anything nature wants to throw at you.

Naturally, something as iconic as Sailor Boy Pilot Bread is going to spawn some interesting side-businesses.

A PRESIDENTIAL Man September 29, 2010

My choice for America’s FIRST BLACK PRESIDENT.

Buh-Bye, GOP September 26, 2010

Where the hell has the GOP been for the last forty years??

What were they doing while the left was stealing our country right from under our noses — and theirs? Please don’t tell me they didn’t know anything about what the dems were up to. I may be dumb, but I’m NOT stupid. Even somebody like me can see all the holes in that excuse.

Why didn’t they speak up when our rights were being removed one by one? I really hope they aren’t going to tell me they didn’t know anything about this, either??

Aren’t these the guys who stood by and let Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid and the current resident cram that filthy “health care bill” down the throats of our grandchildren? And did nothing but not vote for it? Well, at least they had the decency to do THAT little bit. But, couldn’t they have come home, denounced the bill, and raised hell/put a chunk under it? So, who are they trying to kid when they ask me for my support? Any GOP seats in either house are in jeopardy, and if the GOP doesn’t realize it by now, they are too dumb to be a legitimate political party in the United States.

THEIR NEGLIGENCE HAS BROUGHT AMERICA TO THE PRECIPICE OF ANIHILATION, WITHOUT A SHOT HAVING BEEN FIRED, because they, and numerous politicians before them, fell asleep on their watch. Shame! They should have been shouting the alarm a long time ago. But, they were too busy crossing the aisles, I guess. The electorate feels guilty for not forcing their elected officials to do their jobs, but the majority of the responsibility rests completely on the shoulders of the liars in Washington, who were utterly derelict in their duties. We, the people, can be guilty, but only to a point, because these are the people we trusted and sent to watch out for our interests.

We are waiting to hear their plans, and believe me, they had better be radical and practical, or they will be turned out into the street to become the minority THIRD party. (this “Contract” isn’t going to cut it, I fear. Too wimpy. Just like them.)

We are prepared to consider ourselves released from any obligation we ever felt towards them in this election, and they can finish the job of distancing themselves from their constituencies and moving into the Democrat’s house for good. Going along to get along works well for gutless, namby-pamby pantywaist nancyboy elitists like them, anyway.

The GOP should have thought of these things and been doing them all along, instead of showing up with this hastily-cobbled together list of their own inadequacies at the last second before the final destruction of this nation. There’s a couple of names for that kind of behavior: “Blithering incompetence,” and, “too little, too late.”

Buh, bye, GOP! Shape up or disappear, the sooner, the quicker.

The Hunter’s Eye September 23, 2010

It’s pretty obvious that Sarah Palin has brought a completely new and unanticipated dynamic into the battered and predictably stodgy political process these days. Her supporters love to love her, and her detractors love to hate her. But there is no doubt that her name galvanizes every conversation into which it is introduced. They always manage to tell us whom they fear.

Most of the fun is in watching liberal (this especially means RINO) heads exploding all over the country. Sarah’s ordinance skills are becoming legendary in this regard. She loads the cannons on facebook and twitter, and the liberals just can’t help themselves. They all knock each other over trying to jump in front of them, and a reactive, defensive press is fair game, remember. Add that talent to her strategic perceptions and tactical thinking, and it’s becoming clearer that she is deliberately tweaking the leftists and RINOs who set out to bring her down, and doing a fine, pinpoint targeting of her opponents. We call this “the hunter’s eye.”

I don’t pretend to know her, and I have not yet met her personally. But her life has pretty well been opened up to all of us, and we are able to draw certain conclusions about her ability from what we can observe. She has had wise tutors (her parents, obviously) who have raised her to not only be a good and careful hunter, but also to use her sportsmanship and sharp intellect to move into whatever niches are provided for her. Leaders are both born and made, and Sarah Palin has used her inheritance wisely, much to the blessing of this country.

Those of us who support her want to allow her to make her own decisions. It would be fun, of course, to stand on the sidelines and shout, “Faster, Sarah! Higher, Sarah! That way, Sarah!” But we shouldn’t ever get the idea that we know what she should be doing or thinking. Second-guessing a born leader is not a fruitful endeavor. When she is leading the expedition, our jobs should be to work like it all depends on us and pray like it all depends on God.

I believe that Sarah Palin has submitted her life to God, and will go where He leads her. If this is indeed the case, then we need to stand back, stop giving advice, and let her make her own decisions. If she decides this is the year to begin a run for the presidency, I will support her wholeheartedly. But if she chooses to wait, I believe we need to honor that decision and support the most conservative candidate we can find. The Buckley Rule no longer applies. (“Conservatives are duty-bound to support the most conservative candidate who is electable”.) The Limbaugh Rule is now in effect. (“When faced with a liberal or a conservative on the ballot, always vote the conservative.”) The “who is electable” has been scrapped. Conservatives will win.

It’s open season on RINOs and liberal democrat candidates this year, and so far, Sarah Palin’s bag record is looking pretty good, much to the chagrin of the leftists. They know they are in the crosshairs. Some are desperate, some are already giving up. But the hunter’s eye is trained on the target, so let’s keep quiet and give our girl room to shoot.

They will always tell us what they fear, and they fear the hunter’s eye.

Dead RINO Stats September 21, 2010

For any of you who find yourself discussing the pathetic and selfish “write-in” campaign that sore-loser Murkowski is trying to gin up, I bring you tons of stats from American Thinker. Bathe in them. Mud wrestle in them. Insert them into emails. Wash the dog in them. Wash the car. You know the drill…

Just enjoy finding out the truth about a self-serving person who claims “thousands” have emailed her begging her to do this wonderful thing. In ALASKA??? There are THAT MANY DEMOCRATS in Alaska???

Who knew?

Maybe We Should Thank Them September 19, 2010

Introducing Sarah Palin to the country at the Republican National Convention was a big mistake for the RINOs. In terms of tactical errors and strategic ignorance, it was their most costly mistake, and they will be paying for it for a long time, God willing.

Any liberals who thought they were going to best the little rube from the wilderness as she floundered her way around the cutthroat Washington scene eventually got their classless asses handed to them.

It is a heartwarming thing to see her manner with the beltway cogonoscenti, using little more than twitter and facebook accounts, leaving them and their pet media toadies scurrying for rejoinders and excuses. She has literally and singlehandedly reshaped the dialogue of this country. The elite were convinced that they would be able to neutralize any popularity she gained at the convention by simply destroying her at home, and came to Wasilla thinking it would be an easy thing to find the kind of sleaze they were looking for. She, they thought, would go back to Alaska to her gubernatorial office, and they would roast her alive for every peccadillo they could conjure up, and then some.

Simple and practical do not mean stupid and uncouth. Her education is in Journalism. Her hobbies are sports, notably basketball and hunting. Tactical thinking, marksmanship, stealth, and the ability to write about them. What’s not to love?

Ordinary governors would have stuck it out in Juneau and bankrupted their families trying to defend themselves from frivolous lawsuits brought by political hacks. Lesser governors would have stayed in office, taken what the left handed them day after day, and become ineffectual nobodies subsiding back into the wilderness pie of local Alaskan politics, with no enhancement of their resumes, all for a state retirement and a little brief local fame.

The RINOs were sure they had her when she resigned her office. But it looks like they have flung her into the briar patch, and they have nobody to blame but themselves for the consequences. Maybe we should be thanking them.

Talk Like A Pirate Day September 19, 2010

Arrrhhh! Avast! It’s OFFICIAL International “Talk Like A Pirate Day,” so dig out your eye patch, sharpen your cutlass, and dust off your parrot, ‘er I’ll make yer walk the plank!

–Mad Anne Bonney

The Redheaded Stepchild September 18, 2010

I know it’s just me and the love I have for Alaska that is making me speculate in such directions, but it seems to be rather interesting that, for good or ill, Alaska’s politicians have been making more national waves lately, and the consequences appear to be having wider effects on the country’s politics.

It’s probably because we have never been in the national eye for anything like this before, and the contrast makes it notable. Things like this appear to happen Outside all the time. Our distance from the rest of the country is so great (We have a “foreign” country between us), and our population is so small that it hardly seems that it should be of any interest to anyone, and actually wasn’t for most of its history.

But today, our oil pipeline is being allowed to deteriorate from below-capacity operation by this administration, dead set on destroying the energy industry in America; and our fisheries are being cramped and confined by reams of regulations and restrictions on fishing grounds, size of harvests, and restrictions on vessels and gear. Our mines are suffering from environmental harassment and more regulations than we could ever imagine. Production of coal, gold, and other precious and strategic minerals is being shriveled by the piles of government interference in their operations, per the current resident’s vow to drive the coal industry out of business. Even our tourist industry is affected by the price of fuel and all the added taxes on the companies who bring the visitors to our shores. It’s as if, now that they have discovered us, they want us to shut up and go away, only useful as long as we say “How high?” when told to jump. It used to be that they noticed us a lot when they wished to exploit our industry and resources, but now, they don’t even want to do that. They DO, however, want to tell us what to do, how to do it, when and where, and how much to pay THEM for the privelege.

But the times have changed; the players on the stage are younger and smarter, more military veterans are moving here permanently, and the “go-along-to-get-along” political chicanery which once gave Alaska (when anybody took the time to notice) the reputation of being one of the most corrupt governments in the country is gradually being replaced from the grassroots by organizations of dedicated, patriotic citizens who don’t wish to watch Alaska be deprived of its legitimate place at the legislative table.

The political genie has at last been let out of Alaska’s bottle. Somehow, we managed to produce the one person in the country who could make a real difference in the way things are done, especially in local and state elections. This single person has been able to hold her own in the political ring, bravely bearing the worst that could be thrown at her, at the same time encouraging and cheering on the fresh, new blood that she knows needs to flow into the atrophied arteries of Washington politics.

I don’t think John Mc Cain realized the far-reaching consequences of introducing Sarah Palin to national politics. Far from being tossed aside and forgotten according to the establishment GOP playbook, Alaskan politics have consistently remained in the spotlight, thanks to Sarah Palin’s abilities and leadership, but the notoriety has only enhanced her resume in ways her detractors never DREAMED were possible, and she couldn’t care less.

It looks like the days of Alaska’s isolation and privacy are things of the past. We have been moved into the roster of diners at the national table, now, for better or for worse. I’m wondering whether the rich fare and fancy manners are going to be good for us. We Alaskans are used to plain food, simple living, harsh conditions, few luxuries, and being able to conduct our affairs outside the scrutiny of the rest of the country.

Those good times are decidedly in the past. For better or worse, the redheaded stepchild has moved into the house for good.

You Might Be an Alaskan If… September 17, 2010

You have been asked if Alaska takes U.S. Money.

You have been asked if you need a passport to go there.

You have ever been asked if you live in an igloo.

Power outages don’t seem to bother you.

You laugh at people who wear coats when the temperature drops to 50°F.

You refer to the contiguous states as the “South 48″ and if you are talking to another Alaskan, you say “Outside.”

Spam®/Pilot Bread/powdered milk are part of your regular diet.

You cannot imagine life without duct tape.

It takes only a 15-minute drive to “get away from it all”.

The town you live in is “away from it all”.

You don’t understand what’s so exciting about seeing a moose wandering through the middle of town.

A snowmachine/ATV is a necessity, not a luxury.

A snowmachine is something you ride, not something that makes snow.

You need 4-wheel drive all year long – for the snow and ice during the winter, and the potholes during summer.

Six to eight inches of snow is “a little bit”.

It drives you crazy when people pronounce the “l” in salmon or the “p” in ptarmigan.

It drives you crazy when people don’t pronounce both k’s in Knik.

It drives you crazy when people pronounce Valdez “val-dezz” instead of “val-DEEZ”.

Anything above freezing is T-shirt weather.

Going Outside doesn’t necessarily involve the outdoors.

You’ve ever had to put on long johns, Sorels, snow pants, T-shirt, button-up flannel, light jacket, heavy coat, scarf, face mask, thick hat, and thick gloves just to walk a few blocks to the store.

The only way to get to the town you live in is by airplane, weather permitting.

Forget famous football/basketball/baseball players, you brag that you once met George Atla, or knew a relative of his.

You know who George Atla is.

You’ve had to explain that Alaska is BIGGER than Hawaii and nowhere near the California coast.

You need to drive 150 miles to get to a town that is only 50 miles away.

An SUV is a necessity, not some sort of status symbol.

You don’t wash your car anymore, because the dirt is the only thing holding it together.

You wash your car, and five minutes later it’s as dirty as it was before.

You have ever hit a pothole and totaled your car.

“There was a moose/bear blocking my driveway” is an acceptable reason for being late for work or school.

You only recognize two seasons: fishing season and waiting for fishing season.

Almost everything you’ll ever need can be found at a hardware dealer or a sporting goods store.

You need an air conditioner when the temperature soars into the 60′s.

Your three-wheeler/four-wheeler/snowmachine gets more use than your car or truck.

When giving someone directions, you’ve said “…and turn right when you come to the giant snow pile…”

You’ve ever had a snowball fight on Mother’s Day.

You’ve worn an evening gown/suit to the prom along with rubber break-up boots.

“The lights are out” isn’t referring to a power outage.

When the lights are out, you go outside and whistle.

And you understand what this means.

You miss school for a week because the river isn’t safe to cross.

You have never seen the summer star constellations.

You can tell how cold it is outside by the frost on the inside walls.

You’ve heard your electric wiring crackle and snap from static electricity when the wind blows.

It has been -20°F for two weeks, warms up to 0°F and you call it a warm spell.

You laugh when the media makes a big deal about a magnitude 4 earthquake in California.

You have paid $10 for an old head of lettuce or tomatoes that taste like raw potatoes.

You get annoyed with movies/TV shows that have trees around Nome or polar bears in the Panhandle, or penguins anywhere.

You cheered for Binky.

You know who Binky is.

You can’t see right to drive unless you are looking through a cracked windshield.

If the airplane bounces only three times, you consider it a good landing.

You drive 65 miles per hour on a winding icy road during whiteout conditions and not even flinch.

You measure distance in hours, not miles.

Nobody seems to notice or care if you’re at a social event wearing a camouflage hunting shirt, Carhartts, steel-toed boots, and a dirty baseball cap and you haven’t shaved all week.

Your main food groups are fish, moose, Spam®, Velveeta and beer.

You drive an SUV/pickup so that if you hit a moose, you’ll have a chance for survival.

Your idea of sexy lingerie is an unbuttoned flannel nightshirt.

You don’t need a freezer; you just keep your frozen goods on your porch.

You know at least seven ways to serve moose.

You have aluminum foil over your bedroom windows.

You can see the road through the holes in the floor of your pickup truck.

You leave your car running all night long because you’re sure it will be too cold to start it in the morning.

You leave a light on at night in the winter so the electricity doesn’t freeze in the wires.

You think the Red Green show is a documentary.

You see nothing odd about barbecuing when the temperature is -20°.

You get tired of people asking if you eat penguins.

You’ve ever used your snowblower on your roof.

Your brake light is a piece of red cellophane and duct tape.

You know ten ways to prepare Spam with and without Pilot Bread or Velveeta.

You listen to one of Jeff Foxworthy’s You Might be a Redneck jokes and think “Hey, I’ve done that.”

While on vacation in Hawai’i, you see a beautiful girl in a bikini and picture her in snowpants and a parka.

You wear black steel-toes boots with your suit and tie.

You don’t know anybody who doesn’t own a snowmachine or 4-wheeler.

You prefer the smell of mosquito repellent over your wife’s perfume.

All your clothes came from Sportsmans Warehouse, LL Bean, or the Salvation Army.

You know at least ten words/phrases of Russian, Japanese, and/or any Native Alaskan language (i.e. Yup’ik, Inupiaq, Tlingit, et. al).

You don’t look north to find the north star; you look up.

Your snowblower gets more use than your lawnmower.

You think it’s normal for a town to have all its businesses on one side of the road.

You’ve seen antifreeze freeze.

You’ve never taken your truck out of 4-wheel drive.

You’ve needed to use your car’s sun visor at noon.

You’ve ever washed your car in below freezing weather and had the doors freeze shut before you can get home.

You know if you tell your kids to “be home by dark” you won’t see them until Fall.

You earn over $80,000 per year but still shop at Walmart.

The only stores in your town that are open on Sunday are the liquor stores.

You’ve had to explain more than one item on this list to somebody.

******************

I have to tell you that although I haven’t done EVERYTHING on this list, I’ve done most of it. And I know people who have done all the rest.

Dear G.O.P: September 15, 2010

I know you have been wondering why you haven’t heard from me for so long. The truth is, I found somebody else. I don’t think you should try to contact me any more. I am a very loyal, patriotic person, and you just don’t seem to care. I don’t want anything to come between me and my newfound love.

For years I was faithful. I loved whoever you told me to love, I hated whoever you told me to hate, and I did everything you told me to in all those letters and phone calls. I rang doorbells, talked to people, and wore “GOP!” buttons and put “GOP!” bumper stickers on my cars. Time after time, I sent you money wrapped up in those cheesy “WE WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! GIVE US YOUR OPINIONS!!” “surveys” you sent around every six weeks or so. I dutifully filled out all the spaces, added my own special brand of underlines, capital letters, and colored inks, and made out my checks, one after another. But you never listened. NOT ONE TIME. You never even thanked me for caring.

Your taste in candidates is excrable. They were not Conservatives. They might have worn the little elephant pins on their suit lapels, but they didn’t mean a bit of it. And, I don’t know if you know this or not, but just as soon as they got to Washington, those rascals took the pins off, and put on their fishnet stockings, Daisy Dukes, and WonderBras, and went to work crossing the aisle for a kind word or a morsel of pork from people I thought we were trying NOT to be like. Didn’t you notice anything odd about your relationships with them??

And you thought I wouldn’t know a thing about your dalliances because I lived out in the hintermost reaches of flyoverland. You thought you could just string me along, love your floozies, and be sure that I wouldn’t find out the truth. Just as well, I guess, because when you got hard up for a little loving, you would have tried to look me up, and believe me, GOP, I am NOT interested in phonecalls, form letters, or mailbox stuffers, or anything you can give me, do for me, do to me, or protect me from.

I’m writing this to tell you I have found a new love. My new love not only loves me, but is doing everying it can to prove it. My new love cares what I think, and shows it by picking candidates who adhere to the Constitution, and echoes my beliefs on a regular basis. Candidates with principles, in case you are wondering. My new love is taking the time and making the effort to check up on the candidates who call themselves GOP (Your disguise won’t work on me any more, incidentally. I am onto your tricks.). Together we made appointments. With other interested individuals, we interviewed candidates. We got together and asked tough questions. We tested the loyalty, Constitutional knowledge, and sense of responsibility of the candidates who came around looking for our attentions. I know you are wondering just who it is that I have taken up with, so I’ll give you a hint. Think: Boston Harbor before the Revolution and people with feathers in their hair.

Now, like any sleazy, philandering boyfriend, you have tried to ooze your way back into my life. You dress yourself up in red, white, and blue. You try to get money out of me at fairs and expos. You wave little American flags, and wear flag pins in your lapels. But you don’t fool me any more.

See, here’s the way it is: you don’t tell someone they are “crazy” if you want them to love you and follow you. You don’t tell people you want for friends to give you money, like the playground bully used to do.

You have had your chance. You have had all of the loyalty and affection you are ever going to get from me. I hope you faill in November, and then, I hope you fail even harder in 2012.

I’m tired of your lies and your excuses. Go back to Nancy, Harry, and what’s-his-name, and don’t come around or call me ever again, you louse.