Cold is Relative

"Momma, I'm movin' to Alaska."

"What?! Are you outta your pea-pickin' mind?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Not long after this heated conversation, I came across the following comical rundown of Alaskans' approach to weather.  Of course, I promptly sent it to my Mom.  She was not impressed. 

• At 65°F ABOVE zero: People in Florida turn on the heat.  People in Alaska plant gardens.

• At 60°F: People in California shiver uncontrollably. People in Alaska sunbathe.

• At 50°F: Italian and English cars won't start.  People in Alaska drive with the windows down.

• At 40°F: People in Georgia don coats, thermal underwear, gloves, and wool hats.  People in Alaska throw on a flannel shirt.

• At 30°F: New York landlords finally turn up the heat.  People in Alaska have the last cookout before it gets cold.  (I can attest to this.)
  

• At 0°F: People in Arizona fly away to Mexico.  People in Alaska get out their winter coats.

• At 10°F BELOW zero: Hollywood disintegrates.  Girl Scouts in Alaska are selling cookies door to door.

• At - 20°F: Washington, D.C. runs out of hot air.  People in Alaska let the dogs sleep indoors.

• At - 30°F: Santa Claus abandons the North Pole.  Alaskans get upset because they can't start the snowmachine.

• At - 40°F: ALL atomic motion stops.  People in Alaska start saying, "Cold enough for ya?"

• At - 50°F: Hell freezes over.  Alaska public schools will open two hours late.

Please note: I am not the author of the above bullet points; just merely reposting as I think y'all will get a kick out of it.  Right now, it's a balmy 27°F in Juneau.  And I'm wearing flip-flops.

Talkin’ Tuesday: How to Speak Like an Alaskan

chee·cha·ko             [chee-chah-koh]

Noun:  anyone new to Alaska.

Example: “Did you see that broad over there tryin’ to walk on the ice with those pointy toed stilettos?  Cheechako!”

Not to be confused with the “Cheechako Dog” at the Spenard Roadhouse, which in my opinion is one of the best restaurants in Alaska.  Their Cheechako Dog is an Alaska Reindeer Polish sausage with tomato, stone ground mustard aioli, and nuclear relish.  Check out their “Polish and a Pint” special during Happy Hour (after 9pm) when you can get this beast feast for only $3 when purchasing your favorite pint of draft beer. 

Want contemporary comfort food in a sassy atmosphere?  Hit up the Spenard Roadhouse in Anchorage. 

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My friend, Ben, demonstrates his excitement for the deal of the decade: the Spenard Roadhouse’s “Polish and a Pint.”  (Note the beard and flannel, trademarks of a typical Alaskan man!)

An Awe-Inspiring Aurora

The darkness, it just consumes you. Standing there alone, you are paralyzed by the fear. You’re scared of the night, the cold, the ruthlessness of Alaska. And what’s remarkable is even though it’s only a few degrees above freezing, you’re chilled to the bone. Couple that with the thrill of the evening’s stillness and the uncertainty of what’s out there, and you find yourself shaking uncontrollably. And then you look up.

You see the colors, the stars, the clarity of the night sky and you recognize above all else – the insignificance and smallness of yourself. And you realize what our Creator has made just for us.

At first you fixate on the stars, because they are so clear and bright. Then you see the wisps, almost cotton candy-like, where at first you think it’s a cloud, but then you realize clouds don’t move like that. Clouds don’t have the color or the intensity or the magnificence of what’s happening before your eyes.

I’m standing there, looking to the heavens, and pondering my Dad. “He would have loved Alaska,” I remind myself. The tears, they start to well up. And then the harmonica starts playing at the shoreline. A stranger’s small act, unbeknownst to him, became the perfect tribute – complete with nature’s fireworks. And the lights – as if in sync with the melody – start moving with such veracity, like they are guided by a maestro full of passion and love, adoration and rapture.

And right when you feel so insignificant, so meaningless, you are comforted in knowing those lights are dancing for you.

I had been consumed with racing thoughts about life and lost love and forgiveness and hope, and those heavy hot tears… they fell. And then warmth shrouded me, the fear was gone, the cold was soothed, and hope restored.

A stirring belief overtook me, ached me to the core. I finally understood. I am not insignificant.  Within the darkness, there is light and I'm not alone.