French Cuffs and Tennis Shoes. . . Only in Alaska
We're back in Alaska for seasonal employment. Our permanent residence is Florida. My husband and I seem to think there's something about Alaska that brings out the quirkiness in people. Let's start with the signage of our next door neighbor. . .
You need to understand we live in a condo that requires two keys to enter. One for the outside door, and a completely different key for the inside. There are also cameras, and an indoor parking garage for further security. Still... our neighbor finds it necessary to put up this welcoming sign: WE DON'T CALL 911. Do you notice that the horseshoe is upside down too? Hmmm... can't wait to meet this bird. Yesterday, I saw her put a shopping cart in front of her door. She filled it up with garbage. Nice. So I guess this is the scenario: A potential robber/thief/ guy manages to get through the downstairs door, he makes his way up to the third floor where he trips over the shopping cart filled with garbage before getting shot.
Only in Alaska!
Yesterday, we were walking around a lake behind the University of Alaska Anchorage. UAA to be exact. First thing we noticed were all the dogs traipsing around without leashes. Of course this was in perfect alignment with the signs stating: ALL DOGS MUST BE ON A LEASH.
Anyway, going around a bend in the path, we came upon three beaver dams. How exciting right? Floridians aren't used to seeing beaver dams. About this time, a lady came lunging toward us camera in hand, lips pursed. She whispers in a smoker's voice, " The mean one is over there." She points to a nearby bunch of sticks. "It chased me, and panted at me yesterday!"
Since she was clearly distraught, I cavalierly said," Don't worry... we'll put you behind us if the beaver comes after you now." Camera lady looks at me and says, "Oh I can outrun you any day honey!" "Huh?" So much for consoling this one.
We later found out the true grit on this aggressive beaver. Here you go... It seems that Momma Beaver has three babies. Big, woofy- stink dog tries to swim near her lodge... Momma proceeds to bite the dog's feet! Go beaver! Go beaver. Of course Momma Beaver is then labeled AGGRESIVE. There's kind of an indirect justice being accomplished here. I wish I'd seen the action. I would have been on the bank yelling and clapping and cheering for the beaver. Whose lake is it anyway?
Only in Alaska.
French Cuffs and Tennis Shoes
My husband was in the elevator the other day on his way to work. A young man enters the elevator, looks him over casually and says, "French cuffs and tennis shoes."
What a hoot! Ain't that the truth? The sneakers are needed because he has to walk a pretty far piece. The french cuffs are just because he's a pretty spiffy guy. But added to the unusual wearing apparel. My husband has become a walking Radio Shack. He comes complete with not only french cuffs and tennis shoes... he's got four cell phones, one big transmitter thing, and about four different sets of keys. Outlandish you say? Of course not!
After all. . . it's Alaska.
I'm thinking that if we do this "gig" again next summer, we'll get a sign that says, BEWARE OF AGGRESIVE BEAVER. Then we'll stack all of our cell phones, radios, keys, digital cameras, laptops and other junk in a big basket in front of our condo door.
Who says Floridians can't become Alaskans?