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| Donald & his portrait. |
Monday, October 23, 2023
Kilbuck Portrait
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Stump Removal
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| Todd & Amanda, pre-clear cutting. |
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| Post-clear cutting. |
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| Uncle Jon's driveway. |
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| Jon Sr. chainsawing through the tundra. |
Rural Eateries
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| Sunshine Restaurant. |
Go, Wood Chipper!
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| Jon Sr's Rural Alaskan Property Site. |
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| Wood chippin'. |
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Sidekick
Yep, look at me in the Alaskan roadside bat mobile.
[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 2, 2005]
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Giant Cabbage Secrets
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| With Jon Sr.'s giant cabbage. |
[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 4, 2005]
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Jon Sr.
I talked to my dad, Jon Sr. (or “Uncle Jon” to all the cousins), and it sounds like spring fever has officially hit Alaska. He just repurposed an old golf club bag into a custom “gun bag,” modifying it to carry his rifles and shotguns—including his oversized bear gun. The plan is to mount it to the side of his snowmobile for hunting trips.
On a lighter note, I once came across an artist’s rendering of what Elvis might’ve looked like in his 50s. The resemblance to Jon Sr. was uncanny.
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| Jon Sr. dip-netting Hooligan in 1998. |
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| Elvis in his 50s. |
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Smart(ish) / Dumb(ish)
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| Smart Jon, Alaska, 1998. |
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| Dumb Jon, California, 2004. |
Monday, June 16, 2003
Jon Sr.'s Piranha Log
Monday, March 5, 2001
Sun? Moon?
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| A Jon Sr. original. |
Monday, April 12, 1999
Donald's Storage Unit, 1999
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| Donald's storage unit. |
Friday, July 10, 1998
Cantwell
It's right off the freeway in a huge open area. The only structures are a stage, a full blown bar, and a line of port-o-johns.
Everybody just pitches tents or lives in their vehicles for the weekend.
Highlights from the year I attended include:
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| Dancing on makeshift tables. |
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| Passing out & sleeping in the dirt. |
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| Worth a close up. |
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| Me in the chair, Todd standing above, Amanda on the right, & our photographer in my lap. |
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| Cantwell collage. |
[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 18, 2004]
Wednesday, July 1, 1998
The Drunken Boat
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| Valdez Harbor, crack of dawn. |
July 1, 1998 - In the early evening, I was surprised by a knock at the door. I looked through the peep-hole and saw Donald Kilbuck laughing his ass off in the stairwell for no apparent reason. He's tired of his job in Valdez and has returned to Anchorage. Further questioning revealed his Native Corporation Check is due so he won't have to worry about work for awhile.
He plans to use the money from his check to ferry his van to Kodiak where he'll stay until his next Native Check arrives. Then he will use that money to deliver himself back to Anchorage. Well, we all need something to do.
I ended up joining him on a spontaneous 6-hour drive to Valdez where he planned to deliver a bag of clothing to his friend, Patrick.
The roadtrip scenery was beautiful as always, but especially so considering the sunny weather, there was none of Valdez's characteristic rain. We rolled in to town around 2:00 a.m. & hung out at Ihe Sugarloaf Bar which is owned by the Village Inn (Donald's workplace for the past month).
Posted above the bar, for all to see, was a chalkboard with the message, "Today's Specials" painted on the top section of the frame. Instead of drink prices, the board said, "You're In Good Hands With Allstate - Jon D. Gilliom" & then my phone number! Donald's doing obviously. I have no idea how long it had been up there.
I was pleased to learn the bar did not close until 4:30 a.m. & started in on beer by the pitcher. Donald was determined to wait around until 3:30 a.m. & then go wake Patrick up & give him a ride to work (he works at the Sugarloaf too). The bar was a lot of fun & there were a lot of cool fishery workers in town from all over the country.
By closing time, Donald returned without Patrick. Apparently it was Patrick's night off & he did not appreciate the wake-up visit at all. As the bar began to close, a fellow named Chris offered to take us out on his boat, so we bought a six pack to go, the bartender charged us $18.00 for it! He claimed that since the bar was technically closed, he could get in a lot of trouble for selling. We were drunk enough to go through with the transaction.
At this point, we weren't sure if Chris was bullshitting us or not, but we were just going with the flow. Who cares? Sure enough, once we arrived at the dock, Chris pulled the battery out of his car, stuck it in a boat, and we were off.
As the sun came up, we were taking turns steering the boat around Valdez Harbor. It was beautiful and invigorating. When the beer was gone, we returned to the dock, reattached the car battery, and I offered to buy Chris breakfast in exchange for the boat ride. By now, it was after 7:00 a.m. and we were on our way to Sunday morning breakfast at the Totem Inn.
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| Donald & Chris in the cabin. |
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| Chris, our Captain. |
When we were finished, we carried Chris out. Luckily he was able to vaguely direct us to a friend's house (or we interpreted it that way). We left him laying on the front porch and then began our three hour drive back to Anchorage.
Friday, June 12, 1998
Friday, March 27, 1998
Going Digital
While the Internet was not readily available in rural Dillingham, Alaska, where I spent the mid-90s, we did have cable TV, so I kept hearing all about how great the Internet was. At first, it seemed like a fad. Initially, I thought they were just talking about email and that people were overenthusiastic about it. Then you'd hear about kids causing trouble from information they found on the Internet and all the rampant porn. That's when I started getting excited about going online—so much information so easily accessible! In the analog world, you had to really hunt around for things.
When I returned to Anchorage in 1997, the World Wide Web (then commonly known as the "Information Super-Highway") was a mainstream phenomenon, but I still had never used a browser in my life. I was able to self-educate myself in the free computer labs of the University of Alaska, Anchorage.
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| "Fuck you, ape face!" |
We added that text to the original image. Pretty clever, huh?
Another Gilliom Bros. collaboration was, "Jesus Has Joined the Workforce" (below):
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| Jesus has joined the Work Force! |
Monday, May 26, 1997
Econoliner (Road Hog Weekend)
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| Todd's customization job. |
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| Mel, Laura, me, & Todd: Ready to set off to Alaska. |
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| Carpet. |
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| The "Green Egg Van" in Seward, AK. |
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| Let the Sun Shine: Donald & the blue Econoliner. |
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| The blue Econoliner from my apartment window, Anchorage, 1997. |
[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, Feb. 12, 2006]
Monday, November 25, 1996
AK Autos
1. Studded Tires - Every year, everybody swaps their tires for winter tires which include dull metal studs to maintain traction of frozen roads.
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| Tire stud informational display. |
People sometimes use chains in the continental states, but the studs are better for long-term daily use (winters are a lot longer up there).
They're an extra expense, the unused set of tires (studded in summer, regular in winter) requires storage space, and changing them is another annoying task on the To-Do list every 6 months or so.
2. Engine Heaters - Alaskan vehicles come equipped with a small heater in the engine; it plugs into an extension cord and is necessary to prevent the engine oil from freezing overnight. So, the cars have little plugs coming out of their grills. It's common practice to plug in the car at night during the coldest couple of months of the year.
In Anchorage, modern apartment complexes had electrical outlets available on posts located in the parking lot, one for each parking space.
In Dillingham, we would run an industrial extension cord from the house to the van.
Here is a photo of me changing a tire on the ice, using a lever made from firewood to assist my piece-of-crap jack:
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| Changing a tire in a frozen driveway. |
Tuesday, November 12, 1996
Walk Dude
Dillingham, Alaska, when my brother Todd and I were there (1995–1997), was a very secluded part of the world—it still is, I guess, but internet availability probably changes a lot. When I was there, we had no internet, though we did have cable TV, so we weren’t entirely disconnected in terms of information, even back then. It was certainly physically disconnected, though. There were no roads to or from Dillingham; it was more of a hub town for a handful of scattered Yu'pik villages and a boat harbor with access to Bristol Bay. No fast food, though there were a couple of restaurants, bars, and grocery stores.
One year, our supervisor directed us to participate in the local parade. We drove the company van through the streets of Dillingham. While we didn’t have it together enough to create a proper float, we felt we should haul something, so we put an old Nordic Track exercise machine on the flatbed trailer and hauled that behind us. Our supervisor created a wooden figure which we all referred to as the “Walk Dude.” We added a few balloons and some signage to identify ourselves, and we were good to go.
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| The company van. |
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| The "Walk Dude." |
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| Signage, balloons, and brother Todd. |
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| Driving into town. |
Once we hit town, there was a pretty good turnout:
We threw out so much candy. The kids loved it.





















































