Cue the Fog

I woke up this morning at 5am. Well, I didn't actually "wake-up," I was woken up by loud-as-heck fog horns from the cruise ships. This sort of thing didn't bother me so much when I lived in Skagway, because it was a daily occurrence in the summer. But, here in Juneau, there is a sound ordinance-the ships aren't allowed to regularly use their fog horns. As the horns kept blowing, I was rolling around in bed, cursing the ships' captains thinking, "Didn't they get the memo? No honking in Juneau!"

I furiously tossed myself out of bed to look out the window. It was, of course, bright and sunny (as it always is in the middle of the night. In May. In Alaska), and there was a thick layer of fog over the channel. Those ships needed their fog horns so they wouldn't crash into each other-or worse crash into Juneau! I became a little frightened for all the tourists on those boats, and got a little excited to ask them about what it must have been like floating through all that fog. Knowing full well, they probably would have responding with, "Well, I was sleeping when we got into town..."

But I don't get to hang out with tourists anymore. That's not my job. When I worked at the Red Onion, I got to meet hundreds of new people a day. The world came to me. Tourists were usually so happy to be on vacation in such a beautiful place, and when I got to tour them around my town, I felt like I was sort of on vacation too.

But that life is over. When we drove into work today, I gazed out at the three huge ships in the harbor. I wondered what the Shore Excursion officers were like, and if the dock was busy with tour representatives and excited little families. I wondered if the guests had rough seas, and if any of them were on their honeymoon. I wondered if there was a couple celebrating a 50th wedding anniversary. I wondered if someone had been saving their money, with the hope of one day going on their dream vacation to gorgeous Alaska, and today was the day that they finally got to step foot in the Last Frontier. I wanted to talk to them, and welcome them, and tell them to enjoy it, and tell them that they're so lucky to be here. That we're so lucky to have them here. But I don't get to do that anymore.

What I do get, are a few tourists wandering through the Capitol building. Slowly, and quietly wandering the halls. They try to blend in, but they are definitely fresh off the boat. I might not get my daily dose of thousands of wide-eyed wanderers walking through my workplace on a Wednesday, but I do get the occasional sweet couple who might want to see where Sarah Palin worked. And I get to scare them with my too toothy smile, and hopefully ask, "Are you guys from the cruise ship?"

xo
Alli