by Michael Kenney - November 13, 2007
Driving home today, I got stuck waiting for a guy who blocked the intersection at Ozanam and Northwest Hwy. We've all seen people like this. He knows the light is about to turn yellow. He knows there isn't room for him. He knows he should wait. But he doesn't. He pulls out, stops, and blocks the intersection. He knows there's time right? He knows the line is going to move forward...soon. Very soon. He's just going to block the intersection...while his light is green.
And then his light turns yellow, and he's still in the middle of the intersection.
And then his light turns red. My light turns green. I want to go forward. But I can't, because he's still in the middle of the intersection. Stopped.
2 minutes I sat and looked the passenger side of this guy's car, and he didn't so much as glance at me. He knows I'm steaming. Keeps looking straight ahead, as if he has no clue that we're all waiting for him to move his motherfucking RAV4 out of the motherfucking way.
Starts gesturing at the guy in front of him. The universal 'two palms facing up means let's fucking move it' gesture. Of course the guy in front of him can't move. Of course the dumb motherfucker in his stupid motherfucking RAV4 knows the guy in front of him can't move.
It's all a show, intended to make me think he's not a thoughtless turd. So realistic, his act. Wow. The fact that he wound up blocking the intersection is just as shocking to him as it is to me. No,.. really.
Two cycles of the light, and Northwest Hwy didn't move an inch, and so we on the cross street were stuck as well, because this guy made a management decision,... pulled forward....and then stopped.
Finally, the guy starts moving forward. Just around the same time the guy behind me loses his patience, and lays on the horn. Idiot Boy, who just blocked the intersection, thinking I am the one doing the bleating, finally looks at me...and says...
'Hey...Go fuck off!!!'
Now, I have this Fred Thompson thing that I've been working on. It's 7:05 on a Saturday night, and I'd hoped to have that thing wrapped up and sent off by Sunday morning. All I have to do is find some pictures that make Fred look younger and his wife look older, and come up with some interesting text about how Fred's the savior that the Republican party has been looking for. Maybe add a few notes about his views on gays, the military, his pro-Iraq-Invasion position, Roe V Wade, gays, ballistic missile defense, gays, gays in the military, and gays working on ballistic missile defense.
Thought I'd mention that he's 93 years old, his wife is 20, and his kids are 7 and 12...or something like that. I'd initially planned on researching that part of Fred's background when I sat down to work on my Fred Thompson piece tonight. (He has 5481 MySpace friends, including my add, which only took this sleepy bastard 3 days to acknowledge.. He was taking a nap while Hillary and Obama were running up the score to 150,000.)
It's election season, and I'm really looking forward to doing a few of these up-close-and-personals, although the pay scale for these submissions isn't really all that great to be frank about it.
Anyway, I'm trying for a slightly different view than maybe we can get on any old news source.
President Fred Thompson.
President Fred Thompson.
First Lady Jeri Thompson.
President and First Lady Fred and Jeri Thompson.
The Iran Invasion.
VP Huckabee sworn in after President Thompson's...
Concentrate. Think of something informative, interesting, humorous, thought-provoking, and fresh about Fred Thompson. Think. Think.
I tried to think about Fred Thompson, but that intersection blocking guy's words kept ringing in my ears.
Go fuck off!
He's right.
I do need to fuck off.
There was this guy.
His name was Dick Proenneke.
Back in 1967, he took a trip up to Alaska. Bought some land in Twin Lakes. Totally remote area. Take a float plane to get there, or a 60 mile hike. No roads. Bought some building supplies, returned to his native Iowa, and made his plan.
He was a mechanic with WWII military experience, he was a carpenter, having been taught that trade by his father, and he was a naturalist. Loved the outdoors.
In May,1968, he spent 3 months, alone, building a log cabin, by hand. And by 'by hand', I mean by hand. He made his own tools. He felled the trees. Roofed the place with 1/2 cut logs. Made the door out of logs. Designed the 'Proenneke Lock' which is a bear-proof contraption made of an ingenious blend of form and function.(Here's a tip for you folks who don't know about bears: They're smart when it comes to opening locks.)
To an idiot like me, the Proenneke Lock is simply gorgeous.
Perfection.
Cut out logs for windows. Real log shutters to ward off the Alaska winters. Chinked the cracks between the logs with moss. Cemented the big spaces with mortar he made with seashells (and some mortar that was flown in). Made a stone fireplace. Log furniture. Hewn logs for a floor.
He spent the next 30 years of his life documenting, in both video and written form, his Alaskan wilderness existence, in his hand built log home.
The place is fantastic. A dream.
I'm going there. I'm building an Alaskan wilderness log home.
I'm fucking off.
No more worrying about money, business, war, politics.
Just me, a couple of babes, a few hundred cases of chianti, my tools, a few packages of seeds, fishing stuff, guns, cameras, books, Mr. Martin, Mr. Gibson, Mr. Fender....that's about it I guess.
Grayling fishing, bear hunting (only what I can eat and wear), Arctic char, salmon, deer, caribou.
Yeah. I can do this.
Compared to trying to think of something funny, interesting, fresh and thought provoking to say about Fred Thompson, fucking off to an Alaskan paradise sounds like a good idea.
Michael Kenney is a former Chicago Contractor, formerly living in Park Ridge, Il., formerly trying to stay politically informed, and currently shopping for real estate in Alaska. Dick Proenneke is a legend. Crack open a wine and google him up.