Sunday, March 27, 2011

[Cue Heroic Music...]

"Alaskiwi Adventures"

Episode One: Fakebook to the Rescue!

Scene: a mild Sunday afternoon in late March in Squarebanks, Alaska.

Jim, an earnest, hardworking and physically fit man, recently come up to Alaska from the Midwest with his aging wife, Deirdre, is chopping wood in his yard, when a young lady in distress comes running up to him].

YLID: Hi, you're Jim,right? You might not remember me, I'm Sandra.

J: Oh, hi, you're my rugged and good-natured Kiwi landlord Sigmund's friend aren't you--so did you guys just get back from your cool mushing weekend adventure to Televana Hot Springs?

S: Well not really. I mean, I did. But he's still out there with the dogs and the sled. You see, blah blah blah trail conditions blah blah, snow blah blah leaky canvas tent blah blah didn't make any reservations at Televana Hot Springs blah blah at the side of the road at Livenbaad blah blah blah I just hitchiked all the way back here to find his son Gary to help me go get the dog truck which is parked somewhere up Murray Dome Road and drive it to Livenbaad to get Sigmund and the dogs.

J: Well I saw Gary go out on his (really cool new!) motorized bicycle and I don't think he's back yet. He might be at his pal Johnny's house.

S: He's not, I just checked.

J [stroking his long beard]: Hmmm. Well why don't you come in for a cup of tea and wait for him?

[a half hour later, Jim, Deirdre, and Sandra are sitting in Jim & Deirdre's kitchen drinking tea and scratching their heads]

D: I'd call Gary on his cellphone but I don't think he has one anymore.

S: Sigmund gave me his cell phone, but it doesn't have a number listed for his son.

J: Why don't we send Gary an email?

D: That kid never responds to email. He only does Fakebook. Sandra, do you have a Fakebook account?

S: Not anymore, on account of Fakebook really S%$#^!

D: I agree, that's why I never use mine. But hey, why don't I try sending him a message? I've actually never done that before.

[She opens her Fakebook account, clicks on Gary's page and begins typing a brief but info-packed message in capital letters]: SOS MAYDAY MAYDAY NEED UR HELP RESCUE SIGMUND STUCK W DOGS AND SANDRA HERE W US--CALL US ASAP!!!

[Seventeen or eighteen minutes Later...]

J [scanning the laptop screen]: We'd better check the Fakebook page for updates--Whoa, what's this??

[a comment is posted by "Chloe," an acquaintance of Sigmund and Gary's]:

"TYPICAL OF HIM TO GET STUCK LIKE THAT--NYAH NYAH!"

[a minute later John Doe posts that he "likes" the previous posting]

J: What in the world did you write, Wife?? It looks like others have heard all about it!

D: What...?? That's why I never use Fakebook--you try to get in touch with someone in an emergency as a last resort and everyone else hears all about it-- WHERE'S THE HUMANITY???? A MAN COULD DIE OUT THERE!!!

S [cheerfully]: Oh, I think Sigmund will be just fine. We accidentally drank moose pee and he just laughed about it. Say, could I have a drink of water??

[several more minutes pass, and Gary finally sends a message directly to Deirdre on Fakebook saying he'll be home soon.]

[7:00 ish. The sound of Gary's (really awesome!!!) motorized bicycle roaring into the driveway. Gary, a lanky, cheerful, blue-eyed Kiwi lad of 16, leaps off the bike, his cheeks flushed with the cold]

G [poking his head in the door]: What happened?

J, D & S: No time to lose boy, time to go save your Paw!

S: We'd better hurry. The beautiful sunny day has turned into a snow squall!

[They turn to look out the window. After weeks and weeks of gorgeous sunny weather it is now snowing like mad]

[7:30 ish.]

[After a hasty cup of tea and sandwich, G and S go tearing up the road in Sigmund's Nissan to Murray Dome Road. Their mission is to try to start Sigmund's ancient and spectacularly crappy Ford pickup, drive it back down Murray Dome Road, fill it with diesel fuel at the gas pump at Coldcream General Store, and drive the 70 or so miles to Livenbaad before darkness and slippery conditions prevail. All this time Sigmund has been waiting patiently by the side of the road with the dog team.]

[cut to Sigmund and the dog team out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by six- foot drifts of rotten old snow and overflow amidst miles and miles stunted black spruce forest]

Sigmund [scratching the dogs' ears and talking in a cheerful Kiwi accent]: Heeeeloooo little Blubber, Heeelooo Sassie, Heeeeloooo Poo-Boy...

[Back at the cabin, Jim and Deirdre watch at their kitchen window as Gary and Sandra drive off. Once the sound of the Nissan has faded, Jim and Deidre sit down to a candlelight dinner.]

J & D [Lifting their glasses]: Godspeed those two brave young people!

J [tasting the wine]: Wow, I don't think we've ever had a rosé together.

D: It's pretty good. Is rosé supposed to go with roast chicken?

[Thirty minutes later they are halfway through the salad course when Gary knocks on the door once again].

D&J [in unison]: What happened?

G [sheepishly]: We tried going up the hill but the car just kept sliding back.

D: I guess Jim will have to take you in our trusty old Jeep which we nicknamed Kaneekwa and which has 4-wheel drive. I will start the Jeep. Jim please put your Carfartts on--the snow is getting worse. I will keep the chicken warm.

[8:00 ish. It is getting dark and the snow continues to fall.]

J [heroically and cheerfully]: It wouldn't be a Sigmund rescue if it wasn't snowing! This may take awhile--goodbye, Dear Wife! [They smooch while the other two are getting rescue supplies.]

[A moment later Deirdre tearfully waves her spotless white apron after Kaneekwa, carrying Jim, Sandra, and Gary passes up the road through the driving snow in the deepening twilight.]

TO BE CONTINUED...

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