Sunday, September 16, 2012

I Went on A Trip, Part II-A Preview, and I Have A Poem Up at The Far Field!

Captain Larry, Whale Whisperer
Hello, Readers! 

Just a quickie tonight as I am straight off the boat from A Trip to Alaska, and I have lots to say but unfortunately Mr. Typist and I burned our entire first day back running around Seattle looking for a laser level so we could hang these four, gorgeous, hand-carved wooden panels depicting mother-of-pearl inlay koi that we got in Ketchikan  in  our ongoing quest to fool ourselves into thinking we're grown-ups through the power of sophisticated home decor. (Well, that, and we really liked the shiny, shiny fishies.) I will tell you all about our lovely, we-cried-when-we-had-to-go-home trip soon, but for now I will leave you with a few quick highlights:

Kelly and Captain Larry

Kelly and Captain Larry (Larry is shown above) rocked it. They took us out a on a boat to see humpback whales, and they were the best people ever. Kelly knew almost every whale by name, and each of their offspring, and exactly where they hung out to feed. She teared up talking about Captain Larry and his connection to the whales. Kelly was a down-home, gun-toting Alaska girl through-and-through, not some New Age hippie chick. She's lived in Juneau her entire life and she's tough and saucy, but when it comes to the whales, she talks about them like they're her own children. Her passion was infectious and a large part of what made the expedition so exciting. I have some great stories to tell you--coming soon!

On the Awesomeness of Being a One-Percenter

At the beginning of the cruise, I paid what Mr. Typist considered to be an exorbitant fee to get exclusive, "we-only-sell-one-hundred-passes-per-cruise" access to what I called the Super-Special One-Percenter Spa, which was a huge, beautiful, semi-private room with a giant mineral whirlpool spa bath that included four saunas, (citrus, eucalyptus, mint, and dry), heated ergonomic chairs made of ceramic set in front of huge bay windows, and cold-mist "rain forest" showers. It...was...awesome. And worth every single red cent. And I am bereft without it. I hate being a "normie". *Sob*.

The Sports Bar

Mr. Typist's plan to quit smoking again on this trip didn't quite "take", so we made frequent trips to the Sports Bar, one of the few areas on board where smoking was allowed. I don't condone smoking, it's horrible for you in every way, blah, blah, blah, and I really want Mr. Typist to quit permanently, but that having been said, the funnest, most interesting, open, and friendly people on that boat were the smokers. I don't know why. Maybe it's because smokers have some innate connection to a sense of mortality, of finality, that the rest of us more health-conscious folk don't. Maybe it's because addicts are just more fun. Maybe it's because smokers tend to be mentally hyperactive and sensitive and need the nicotine to ground their runaway thoughts. Whatever the reason, I enjoyed the smokers company the most. Smokers are fun, engaging, imaginative people. If I could stand it, I would smoke all of the time, too. But I don't, because cancer, and wanting lung capacity to swim. [Insert standard smoking-is-bad-m-kay disclaimer here.]

And on An Unrelated Note....

I came home to an e-mail saying that one of my poems was chosen for The Far Field, a project of Kathleen Flenniken, the current Washington State Poet Laureate! You can read it here:

More to come soon,

Kristen McHenry


Artisan Lifestyle said...

"Maybe it's because smokers tend to be mentally hyperactive and sensitive and need the nicotine to ground their runaway thoughts." This is true. And smokers are a socially disenfranchised group. They are sneered at, glared at, snubbed, shunned and banished on a daily basis. They are the receivers of nasty hateful comments daily.It is socially accepted and applauded to treat smokers with disdain...publicly and privately. Thanks to the bigotry gleefully thrown at them,they develop a biting sense of humor. (they are remarkably peaceful people who never punch a rude dick in the matter how much they want too.) Being on the outside, not allowed in ,they make keen observations. Smokers dont make knee jerk judgements. When faced with a situation , they take ten minutes outside,in the rain and cold, to think about it. Smokers make a choice several times a day to walk away from everyones bullshit! Thanks to the imposed isolation they are subject too, they are never part of the hive mind,the mob,the crowd.... If you ever need a clear perspective in any situation... Go stand in the rain, 25 feet from all the folks who truly believe they are better humans (because they dont have that particular bad habit), with the smokers. Be prepared though.... If you dont have a cigarette in your hand... They will treat you like a spider on a birthday cake.

Frankly Curious said...

I have only two things to say.

1. Yes, I know your life is better than mine! I will note, however, that I have more puppets than you and they are amusing as hell. As long as you keep knives away from them.

2. I know what you mean about smokers. I think the reason is that they are outsiders. I don't think in 1959 when everyone smoked that smokers were more interesting. But now, regardless of class, they understand what it means to be an outcast. They're more fun because they know pain. It is only through pain that we experience joy. This and many more platitudes coming soon in my new book, "The Sound of One Man Ranting."

(Actually, that's good book title!)