Way Up North

On this date in 1973, I reported to Great Lakes Naval Training Center to begin boot camp.

I told you it was a minor anniversary ...

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Other things: last weekend, when we traveled to Seward for the wildlife cruise, gas in Anchorage was $2.93. There was a lot of grumbling about that price - what is it? 30 cents higher than the national average? - until we got to Seward.

In Seward, gas was $3.29 per gallon. No more complaints from us.

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The Anchorage Daily Noise, er, News is starting to report stories other than those about Sarah Palin. Unfortunately, it appears these are the dog days of summer, for us, and nothing much of interest is happening.

There's this - a couple of guys pulled in this 90-lb king salmon from the Kenai River.
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We have 63 degrees this morning, but the sunny skies have turned cloudy, and AccuHunch is alleging some rain might be sticking around for most of the upcoming week.

It's quiet, otherwise. My wife & younger daughter have gone to be pampered at a local salon. I was planning to climb out onto the overhang above the garage & wash the living room window. Since rain is forecast, I suppose it will have to wait until next weekend. If the glass is to be cleaned, I'd like it to last for more than a day.

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I have accepted the task of helping with the layout - and perhaps an occasional post - on a new site about Sarah Palin. Several bloggers from around the country will be contributing posts; give Palination a look if you're interested.

kthxbye!

Long ago and far away, in a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan, or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents, and they were you and me,
For Ike was in the White House in that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges, and Peyton Place was porn.
We learned to gut a muffler, we washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry in circles on the lawn.

We longed for love and romance, and waited for our Prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz, and no one’s seen him since.
We danced to ‘Little Darlin,’ and sang to ‘Stagger Lee’
And cried for Buddy Holly in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Only girls wore earrings then, and 3 was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts, except for Jean McKinney.
And only in our wildest dreams did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon, Annette was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie, they never made it twice.
We didn’t have a Star Trek Five, or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold, and Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat whose co-star was a chimp.
We had a Mr. Wizard, but not a Mr. T ,
And Oprah couldn’t talk yet, in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had our share of heroes, we never thought they’d go,
At least not Bobby Darin, or Marilyn Monroe.
For youth was still eternal, and life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We’d never seen the rock band that was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren’t named Jefferson , and Zeppelins were not Led.
And Beatles lived in gardens then, and Monkee’s lived in trees,
Madonna was a virgin in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We’d never heard of microwaves, or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed, but they weren’t grown in jars.
And pumping iron got wrinkles out, and ‘gay’ meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed in the Land That Made Me, Me.

We hadn’t seen enough of jets to talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at the bottom of the bag.
And Hardware was a box of nails, and bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction in the Land That Made Me, Me.

Buicks came with portholes, and side shows came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough to cover both your cheeks.
And Coke came just in bottles, and skirts below the knee,
And Castro came to power near the Land That Made Me, Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride, we had no Hill Street Blues,
We had no patterned pantyhose or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms in the Land That Made Me, Me.

There were no golden arches, no Perrier to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda, and cats were not called Bill.
And middle-aged was 35 and old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents in the Land That Made Me, Me.

But all things have a season, or so we’ve heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline we swear by Retin-A.
They send us invitations to join AARP,
We’ve come a long way, baby, from the Land That Made Me, Me.

So now we face a brave new world in slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they’re using smaller print in magazines.
And we tell our children’s children of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away in the Land That Made Me, Me.

h/t Theo Spark

Roads go ever, ever on,

Over rock and under tree,

By caves where never sun has shone,

By streams that never find the sea;

Over snow by winter sown,

And through the merry flowers of June,

Over grass and over stone,

And under mountains of the moon.

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Roads go ever, ever on

Under cloud and under star,

Yet feet that wandering have gone

Turn at last to home afar.

Eyes that fire and sword have seen

And horror in the halls of stone

Look at last on meadows green

And trees and hills they long have known.

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The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

.

The Road goes ever on and on

Out from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

Let others follow it who can!

Let them a journey new begin,

But I at last with weary feet

Will turn towards the lighted inn,

My evening-rest and sleep to meet.