All's Well Again

Sitting here in the warmth and peace of my very own living room it is hard now to connect with the events of the past several weeks. It is a typical pattern for me to shut the doors behind me as I make my way down the hallway of life. I suppose it is that way for us all, but I can't help but wonder if it is normal. Guam - and Hawaii, about which I have mentioned nothing yet - are already fading into dreams and unreality. All I really know for sure anymore is what I am feeling at this moment. Even yesterday, with all its Thanksgiving Day joys of family, food and friends, is already becoming a questionable memory. So I guess I have truly learned to "live in the moment". Either that or its early onset of Alheimer's. What was your name again?

The last thing I recall telling you about was the critters on the island of Guam (and even then I had to go check my last post to make sure). Before that I also told you a little about the proposal work I was doing and the companies I was working with. Here's a little more detail. To say now that it was an intense experience would be somewhat of an understatement. I haven't ever done anything quite like that before.

For three solid weeks in Guam and one in Honolulu I was cloistered in an office cubicle each day for a minimum of 10 hours, and usually more like 12, attempting to create on paper a supply chain for the delivery of construction materials from the U.S. and foreign origins to Guam and Hawaii. It was just me and 30 of my close friends. The goal was to write a concise proposal to the Navy on how we would go about constructing the wharfs, airstrips, housing, offices and other facilities needed to serve as a new home for 8,000 marines and their families who will be moving to Guam in 2015 or so. The military has been working on this plan for easily 5 years or more and the Territorial Government of Guam (aka GovGuam) has also begun work to improve their infrastructure in advance of the construction work. Around 7 large teams of prime contractors and their subcontractors are expected to turn in proposals just to win the right to compete with two other winners for future task orders. The RFP is worth $4 billion dollars and task orders - whichi will be doled out over 5 years or more - will average between $15 million and $300 million. My team mates estimated our joint venture team would spend a combined total of more than $500,000 just to create the proposal. Needless to say, it was a pretty big deal.

I worked every day from my arrival on October 17th until November 19th, when I was finally cut loose and allowed to leave for home. My client had extended my initial two week stay to a total of four weeks. By that time I had been sick twice, and been disrupted with two major crises at home (bedbugs in my daughter's apartment and the death of a sick friend). In the final days I put in as many as 16 hours of work a day and my eyesight had grown blurry. Everyone (in spite of otherwise remarkably good attitudes) had become deeply weary and were looking for the end to arrive. The rest of the team still had a week to go of final changes to the document when I left. It was a sweet day, nevertheless, to say my final goodbyes and point the car toward the airport. I heard only yesterday that they had successfully finished and turned in the proposal on November 25th.

After two exceptionally pleasant days spent recouperating on the Big Island, walking around the Volcano National Park and seeing my good friends David and Leilani Reyes and their keiki (kids) I made the long flight home to Alaska, arriving at 5 am Sunday morning. I had been looking forward to getting back to cold weather again (yes, I had!) and for that reason had planned ahead and packed my jacket in the bottom of my suitcase. Not a bad plan, assuming the suitcase would show up as expected. It didn't, so I had to make my way home via taxi in just my short-sleeve Aloha shirt. Still, it was cold weather at last. Ahhhhh!

However, that is, as I said earlier, all fading into the past. It is wonderful to be home again and that is all I have to say 'bout that.

Love,
Jed

Island Critters

If there is one thing I cannot stand it is snakes. Indiana Jones was never so relateable for me when he rolled over and said "snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes." Some people - whose name I will not mention (Susan) - are deathly afraid of little inconsequential creatures like our harmless Alaska gray spiders that might at worst - and this is making a big admission here - maybe, possibly, leave the tiniest of little red welts from whatever it is that they do when they happen to find actual skin to play around on. Alaskans are not often naked, I might point out, or even moderately uncovered. So the truth is those little kamikaze spiders that some people think are crawling around on the living room ceiling above our heads with evil intent to kill are more likely just dweeb spiders that stumble trying to make it over the top of a piece of ceiling popcorn, lose their grip and fall. I am sure that I have suffered more heart weakening events caused by Susan's penetrating scream of death coupled with the instant launch off the sofa than I was ever threatened by an actual spider bite.

But getting back to snakes, now that is a different matter. One fall day while out for a jog on a beautiful sun-slanted trail around Lake Sagatagan (St. John's, MN in case you have forgotten) I went to leap over some arbitrary thick green stick that was laying on the ground across the path. Just as I was soaring into the air the stick freaked out, violently spasmed and bolted off the path as fast as its little snakey legs could carry it. I, meanwhile, had gone from fun to fear in a split second and somehow managed to gain an additional six feet of altitude in spite of the fact that both my feet were already off the ground at that point and I was arcing toward the other side of the stick. When I finally came down about 20 feet later it took me several minutes to stop my heart from pounding as I realized just how close I had come to some serious garter-snake death. To this day I have not forgotten that encounter and that was, oh, about 30 years ago. So snakes are an issue with me.

But here I am in Guam, brown tree snake capital of micronesia, and I can't imagine whatever it was that possessed me to agree to come here in the first place.  The BTS, as the experts call them, are invaders on Guam, brought here most likely by cargo ships or planes in the early 1950's. They grow to an average length - I said average length - of 1 to 2 meters, and are very aggressive when confronted. They single handedly wiped out the native bird population of the island, not to mention everything else they could get their little fangs on, like shrews, rats and such. Maybe that is why I have not seen but one cockroach since I have been here. So it is not all bad. But I mean, how'd you like to be out for a walk in the woods on a warm and muggy evening and look up to see one of these guys looking down at you? Yes, that's right. You'd be crapping your pants and that's all there is to it. So now every time I go out walking, even if it is just from the car to the restaurant or whatever idiocy I happen to be doing, I can't help but check every bush or small tree for something that just doesn't look quite right and give the whole lot a wide berth. And you would too, Duan, so don't go getting all smug on me.

Time for bed.