getting back home

i have returned. home. bright eyed and optimistic i find myself in this familar place. home. i boarded a small plane alongside twenty other people and had a pilot who looked like a real-life spoof on Doogie Howser. He faced the front of the cabin, his acne spotting his professional facade and his cracking voice casting serious doubt on his ability to manuever a serveral ton machine, through the air, hundreds of feet above the ground and on a stormy, lightening dappled evening no less. i saw my life flash before my eyes. maybe this was "take your kid to work day"? i reached for the safety information card and read with the fervor of someone who, well, might make like buddy holiday and take up permenant residence in the sky.

in kodiak there is one major landing strip and calling it "major" is really an overstatement. the runway is designed so that one must drive the plane to its end which is marked with a large concrete wall (a safety cushion should you overshoot your landing) make a U-turn, back up to the very end and then run like hell to get enough speed to become airborn. i looked a bit like a newby with my fists clenched and glowing white knuckles marking my fear. the regulars, those who regularly fly from kodiak to anchorage, began to settle in for a nice nap. it became clear to me that these folks were simply unafraid of death. as i looked at the seventy year old woman next to me, her two, three, four flaps of skin covering her eyelids, i thought, maybe it was going to be alright. i mean, she lasted this long. i tried to calm myself and put on my ipod. the first song? "The End" by the doors. i cringed and closed my eyes.

after a bumpy but short ride, i arrived in anchorage. i was eager to get off the plane but before i could Doogie Howser decided it was speech time at the Academy Awards and thanked all us poor people in coach for flying. i nodded and pushed past him. anchorage airport is a wee bit bigger than kodiak by several gates and couple miles of pavement. i boarded the shuttle to get to the gates for interstate flights. our driver must have been confused because we ended up taking the most round about way to the other gates. i think we stopped for some hotdogs and alaskan cake as well as some souveniers. i may have seen a polar bear too. by the time we actually got to the gates i realized that my clothes were out of style.

i rushed into the terminal only to find myself in what felt like the Alaskan equivalent of New York city. there were people everywhere! i hadn't seen lines this long since Liberty House (before it became Macy's) started selling Tomoguchi toys, or since starbucks in seattle airport. it was ridiculous. the only thing that was more ridiculous, however, was me. dressed in a thick black sweatshirt, black sweatpants and my extratuffs, i was carrying my large backpacking bag on my back, my military laudry bag over my chest and stomach, my day pack on one arm, my wallet in my other hand and my boading passes in my mouth. people, surprisingly or not surprisingly took no pity on me whatsoever. as a matter of fact, everytime the line moved an inch, if i took just a few seconds to gather up my LIFE's worth of luggage, there would be moaning and groaning. i was sweaty and i was tired. all i wanted to do was lay on the floor and have the person behind me kick me and my luggage along everytime the line moved.

the woman behind me, i would later discover, would make me more uncomfortable that sweaty sensation you get between your butt cheeks or the nagging pressure of 100 pounds on your back.