A journalist observes life in the far north.
Lucky and I said our goodbyes and came to the big city—Anchorage—to see my friend Ginger, who I have known since middle school, and her family. Ginger is a U.S. Army captain’s wife so she has a part-time occupation as a socialite. Last night, she had to attend a military ball at a hotel downtown, arriving late so that she could first visit with me for a bit. She has attended so many military balls that she says they are passe. I woke up last night after she came home, and she admitted to having a good time, however, saying a speech given by a retired colonel was witty and poignant. Ginger is a military brat and very patriotic.
This morning, I made a run to Starbucks with Calvin, one of Ginger’s two boys. He wore flip flops. I looked at his toes and remarked that we have a quaint invention in America called the toenail clipper. Without missing a beat, Cal said, “I am growing them out.”
The Levines have coffee here but their coffeemaker, a Cuisinart, looks like the sort you would see on the Space Shuttle. And since Ginger’s license plate reads LUVBRD, I decided not to bother the newlyweds.