Blasts from the Past

During last month's travels, I was able to browse through old family photos for the first time in years. I brought a few of them home with me for scanning, like this one:

Me & Brother Todd in the 1970s.

I also learned that plaid clothing was a constant presence in my childhood photos.

The highlight of the trip was a box of memorabilia from my mother that had recently been delivered to my brother in Missouri. My mother died when I was 10 years old, so it was interesting to look through the stuff. A lot of it was famiiar from my childhood, though most of the photographs were totally new to me.

I'd never seen this one before:

My mother, age 3; with Santa Claus, 1950s.

Then there were my baby pics from 1970. It's pretty funny how little I've changed since then:

1 year old Jonnie, 1970.

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Sep. 1, 2005]

Half Yards

Gill Bros w/ half yards in St. Louis, Mo.

Gill Bros. - Todd & Jonnie.

Aleknagik

Besides fishing, you could also screw around in watercraft on Lake Aleknagik, though that was often incorporated into fishing as well.

Our crew, most days.

Skif Pilot Jonnie.

 One section of Lake Aleknagik featured the wreckage of a WWII barge which we enjoyed climbing around on.

The old barge.

Todd welcoming us aboard.

Glen tying anchoring our skif to the barge.

Fishing off the barge.

Fishing off the barge was amazing, the river's current would momentarily trap the salmon against the barge and you could look right down at them. Theoretically, the salmon wouldn't even have to bite, it would not be difficult to just snag them with your hook ("snagging" is illegal by the way, it wasn't uncommon for Fish & Game to check your fish to make sure they were hooked legally in the mouth).

It was also fun to explore the barge, though most of it was flooded. I don't know any of the barge's history, except that it was from WWII and that it was too expensive to remove and dispose of it. As of the mid-1990s, it had just been sitting there for fifty years or so.

Remains of a WWII era bathroom.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 21 2004]

Gill Bros: Brushes with Greatness

Me & Stan Lee, Los Angeles, 2012.

Todd & Charo, Oahu, 1996.

Just the Good Stuff

A list of last lines from bawdy limericks.

So the town never sleeps after dark.

Fuck after fuck after fuck?

For after he fucked her, he ate her

Like Father John's thumb after mass

And the other we'll try after marriage.

One fore, and one aft, and one oral

And the general effect was quite lovely.

He went out in the yard and ate dung

For the thing she called "Utterly-utta!"

In the archiepiscopal pants.

His nose out of private affairs.

Again, and again, and again

Won't you do it again, Sir? Bis! Bis!

Against pinches, and pins in the ass."

And fell down again from the smell.

And the band at the Waldorf-Astoria.

And now she is just a plain whore again.

For I certainly don't want to sin again.

And I do it again and again.

And ate up the whole afterbirth.

The scent-ah, that was a failure

Ah, you're changing the t to a p!

Is the squid that I keep in the sink

Or a goat, or whatever is handy

With the aid of his constable's truncheon

He rogered the national School.

And other odd mammals

Now ain't this a hell of a fug!

Ain't that foresight for ya?

Said she, You mean that ain't your finger?

But that ain't my prick-it's a spike.

If you've slept with that sonofabitch again

I'm surprised that by now they ain't mamas.

Ain't it grand and realistic!

But I don't feel as good as I did

This ain't a cunt-it's a corridor

With his backside awave in the air

It shot off in the air like a rocket

And was washed down the aisle on the froth

The arse on our parson needs fixin

But alas he was only a eunuch

Felt dear Alfred's delicious arse wriggle

And they promptly refunded his stub

And all he could shit was spaghetti

For all he had left was the skin

And bought her a chastity girdle

And now all her sisters are aunts

For which all her lovers may thank her

All got clap in their hindermost region

And framed, within miniature cunts

The waiters were all hanging low

And the doctors all fainted away

And the worst is, they all do it well

And dived in all covered with drool

To all but the spermatozoa

That he soon had her cunt all asmokin

(From a scholarly lexiconography paper discovered by Brother Todd).

[Originally posted on Rebel Leady Boy, Apr. 29, 2006]

Jesus, the Real Superman

When Brother Todd visited from Texas recently, he was telling me about one of his neighbor's tattoos and I totally misunderstood what he was saying.  I forget what the real tattoo was, it had something to do with Jesus. But I mistakenly thought he was saying his neighbor had a tattoo of Jesus Christ hanging on the cross with blood running down his face and pooling up on his chest to form the Superman "S" logo, and I thought that sounded like a badass tattoo.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 22, 2003]

Hook 'Em Horns

During our visit to Austin, Texas, I was very surprised and amused to so see the locals flashing the heavy metal devil's horns all over the place. At first I felt like I'd stumbled upon a cult or a criminal organization of some sort, so of course I had to take a picture:

Hook 'Em Horns!

It turns out, "Hook 'Em Horns" is a University of Texas, Austin school spirit thing. The gesture represents the school's sports mascot, the Longhorn. 

Brother Todd later drove me out to witness this statue:

Rock On, Dude.

Relief on the statue's base.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 15 2003]

Cantwell

Out in the middle of nowhere, Cantwell, Alaska hosts an annual music festival. It is pretty much just two days of drunken revelry. It's completely unadvertised. People just know about it by word of mouth

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:

Dancing on makeshift tables.

Passing out & sleeping in the dirt.

Worth a close up.

Me in the chair, Todd standing above, Amanda on the right, & our photographer in my lap.

Here is a collage:

Cantwell collage.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 18, 2004]

Econoliner (Road Hog Weekend)

[Originally posted as part of "Road Hog Weekend," on The Real World...Blogger Style!]

When I think of living in Alaska, I think of driving around in a Ford Econoliner from the late 1970s.

My brother Todd purchased our first Econoliner down in Indiana. He added some special features to the original green van, most notably: a set of sexy mannequin legs protruding from one of the back walls:

Todd's customization job.

The legs were eventually removed so he could install bunk beds for his road trip to, and back from, Alaska. I was able to participate in the Green Econoliner's second Alaska trip in 1994 (documented in Van Log '94).

Mel, Laura, me, & Todd: Ready to set off to Alaska.

One of the green Econoliner's cool features was that the walls were covered with yellow shag carpeting. Carpeted walls = comfort:

Carpet.

In Alaska, the green van was more often referred to as the, "green egg van." This is because of a fried egg sticker Todd had adhered to it. People always asked what it meant. They usually took it to be reference to, "This is your brain on drugs." 

The "Green Egg Van" in Seward, AK.

While Todd drove and lived in the green egg van in Valdez, I relocated to Anchorage where I purchased a second, blue, Econoliner from a co-worker. This is the one I accidentally shot a hole in during my first day on a new job.

At the end of the salmon season, when Todd came back through town, the Gill Bros had two Econoliners on the streets of Anchorage. 

Two Gills in two Econoliners.

After that summer, Todd left me the green van and flew back down to Indiana, so I was blessed with two Econoliners.  I drove one and let Donald Kilbuck use the other one. They both made it through my first Alaskan winter. 

The Green Egg van turned back to Todd when he returned the following summer. It was ultimately deserted in Valdez after its transmission went out. Reportedly though, it would still drive in reverse for awhile and Todd tells me they would occasionally take it on a short drive into town in reverse!

The blue van became Donald's and he continued to drive it into the late 1990s when it finally gave up the ghost. By then, it had a steel bar welded to the front, acting as a homemade bumper and a patchy blue pattern from Donald spray painting over rust spots.

Let the Sun Shine: Donald & the blue Econoliner.

The blue Econoliner from my apartment window, Anchorage, 1997.

[Originally posted on The Real World...Blogger Style!, Feb. 12, 2006]

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.

The company van.

The "Walk Dude."

Signage, balloons, and brother Todd.

Driving into town.

It may not have been the most impressive parade float to ever see the light of day, but it served its purpose and it was hilarious. The weather was also terrible for a parade which made the whole endeavor ridiculous.

Once we hit town, there was a pretty good turnout:

 We threw out so much candy. The kids loved it.

 

It was pretty fun hauling a muddy balloon-decorated Nordic Track through town on a flatbed and throwing candy to the crowd.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 11 2004]

Death to Tyrants

When we were living in rural Alaska, my brother Todd and I decided to celebrate one particular 4th of July by building and burning a tyrant's effigy. He had a balloon head and a body stuffed with straw. Went up in flames good, like a tyrant should.

Here's pics:

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 4, 2004]

Potato Launcher

Probably our most outrageous source of entertainment in Dillingham was the potato launcher.

Our boss built it from PVC pipe—just the right diameter to snugly fit a potato down the barrel. At the base, he attached a wider plastic chamber with a screw-off cap, where we’d spray in the “fuel”: Aqua Net hairspray. (It worked great until they changed the formula; after that, we had to switch brands. The key was finding something flammable.)

He rigged it with an old electric grill starter and a bolt inside the chamber, so all it took was pressing a red button to send a spark across the chamber and ignite the hairspray. We kept a broomstick handy to use as a ramrod whenever a potato didn’t quite fit.

When you hit the button, it let off a loud bang that echoed through the trees, and the potato launched with surprising velocity. My supervisor once speculated that a direct hit could break a man’s ribs.

Potato Launcher.

Taking aim.

Todd prepares to launch a potato.

We used to set up targets in the backyard and fire the potato gun at them—usually an old trash can lid propped up with rocks.

That was one of the perks of living in the middle of nowhere. There’s no way we could’ve gotten away with that in a suburban neighborhood without drawing the attention of the neighbors—and probably law enforcement.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Dec. 17, 2004]

Alaska Scrap Book

The scenery:

Seward Boat Harbor.

Big fish:

Me with a salmon I caught.

Blue waters:

Either Snake Lake, or Lake Aleknagik.

 Baby bears:

Baby Bear on the shore of Lake Aleknagik.

 Caribou ribs:

Brother Todd eating a caribou rib.

Look at the size of that rib! It is like something out of the Flintstones!

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Jan. 4, 2004]

Hyder-ized

While driving through British Columbia, Canada, for what seemed like forever on our road trip to Alaska in 1994, we made a Hyderization pit stop in Hyder, Alaska.

The proper entrance to Alaska is through the Yukon Territory, which was still a long way off, but we learned there was a southern Alaskan town called, "Hyder," accessible through British Columbia. It isn't a proper entrance to Alaska because there are no additional routes into the interior, evidenced by the absence of a customs stop.

We were a little road weary from days of driving and decided it was worth the 200 mile detour off the Alkean Highway to check out Hyder. It was probably a once in a lifetime opportunity. I doubt we will ever be back in Hyder. It is absolutely in the middle of nowhere.

Checking out Hyder, Alaska.

Once we arrived, Hyder looked like kind of a wilderness outpost. There were a few buildings (at least half of which were bars) and a lot of mud.

One guy we met there told us they did try to establish a border patrol office at one point in the town's history, but the locals, "shot it up."

There was not even anything to indicate where the Canada-Alaska border was. The guy we were talking to said, "There used to be a sign, but if fell down, eh?"

We decided to celebrate at the Glacier Inn bar & liquor store. The walls were covered with autographed money, originally from miners staking claims, but in recent years it was probably just drunks.

One wall of the Glacier Inn.

While we were there, the bartender, Caroline, was creating a subliminal message to her boss by stapling $2 bills to the money covered wall to spell out, "Fuck you, Buzzy." She said he would never notice and she would laugh about it for years.

"Fuck you, Buzzy."

The Glacier Inn had a tradition called, "Hyderization," the process of, "getting Hyderized," which consisted of drinking a shot of Everclear.

We recorded Caroline's Hyderization rap on the Van Log cassette tape rec (she was able to recite it super fast, an skill she called, "Speed Hyderization"):

What I have before you is a water chaser, this in the other hand, is a house special. You may not taste it or smell it first. You have to knock it back straight one time & one time only... On the count of 3, down the hatch. 1,2,3. Congratulations, you've just been Hyderized with 1 ounce of Everclear 190 proof straight grain alcohol. Here's you card, sign your name to it...Welcome to Hyder & have a nice day. Bingo! We're done! Thank you.

Getting Hyderized.

After that initiation, they provided you with a souvenir card:

My proof of Hyderization.

[Originally posted on I'm Nacho Steppinstone, Mar. 12, 2004]