Just back in from a whirlwind tour of the lower 48. Fortunately, we arrived in the midst of early-winter heatwave (+10 F). Most striking realization about Fairbanks this time of year: the all-consuming darkness. I'd always been aware of this unique feature of high-latitudes, but a month in sunny San Francisco, Las Vegas, and even Philly has led to a striking shift in my circadial rhythms. It seems worse than I remember. Yesterday, we went for a "welcome home" breakfast at Sourdough Sams. During a cursory scan of the Daily New Miner, 2 headlines leaped off the frontpage, leading to the inevitable self-doubting question: What am I doing here?? (that is, in Fairbanks). Here's a quick summary of the latest from the 'banks:

Story # 1) Air quality in the North Star borough bottomed out on Wednesday, leading to the release of health warning by the local authorities. The cause: a complex interaction between the dreaded Fairbanks temperature inversion and high fuel costs (which has led more locals to burn wood which in turn, has led to more particulates in the air).

Story # 2) In 2004, a national survey of crime found Fairbanks to be the 4th most dangerous metropolitan area in the U.S. That is, Fairbanks is considered more dangerous than Las Vegas and New Orleans. In 2005, Fairbanks was removed from the polls due to a statistical anomaly. However, anomaly-aside, the author of the report contends that Fairbanks is still dangerous (FYI) and would likely give Memphis (#2 in 2004) a run for its money if included in the 2005 survey.

So it's good to be back, in spite of all the darkness, high particulate levels, and (quite frankly, shocking) levels of criminal activity. It is quiet here, which allows one to reflect a bit on the month of consumption and socializing in the lower 48. Thanks to all those who gave Chrissy and I a place to crash along the way, particularly, J-Hard, Kristen and Bob, Lee-Killa, Redzy and Jill, Missy and John, and of course, the O'Donnell clan.




Here's Lee and Nevy getting into the holiday spirit at Union Square, San Francisco.




I'm sporting the t-shirt/smoking jacket combo, en route to a big night of blackjack off the strip. The night had its highs and lows, as most nights do in Vegas. Both Chrissy and I walked away from the $5 table up for the evening. However, an evil dealer with a runny nose infected me with a nasty (and on-going) cold.




Feliz and Bobby at the Harden's.




While in Vegas, I began to embrace my up-and-coming role as Uncle Jon. Here is my soon-to-be niece, Megan, and her rather squatty dog, Angus (named for the ACDC musician, not the steak).




To enhance my pseudo-uncle image, I struck this pose with all of the male inlaws.




Meet Pugsy.




Chrissy, Missy, and the kiddies.




Chrissy at Red Rocks Canyon, NV.






Redzy (aka Easy Wind) and Jilly (Plays w/ Colors) kickin' back after a big night of cheesesteaks, cards, and some sizzlin' freestyle rhymin' in South Philly.



John (aka Elder Grayheart) taking a moment to tend the inner garden.