Audio!

If you are too cool to read, simply don’t like reading, or reading gives you a headache, there is good news today. No matter which of these things ails you, you will find reprieve in knowing that Memoirs of a Gas Station is now available as an audiobook.

This was a lot of fun to make – the narrator is a voice actor named Daniel David Shapiro from Los Angeles. We had dozens of auditions, but Dan’s voice and delivery stood out as the best for the story, and sure enough, he killed it. Check it out and have a quick listen at this link.

The work commute or cross-country road trip just became a lot more enjoyable. Or, at least, less sober.

Jim Speaks

Yes, the charismatic co-star of the buddy-cop smash hit  my travelogue Memoirs of a Gas Station finally has a voice. When I asked Jim – my partner in crime boozing and travel during the summer of 2008 – to write a guest post for this blog, half of me expected a scathing rebuttal to my (allegedly) foggy recollections and half-baked opinions published in the book. It seemed this would be the perfect opportunity for him to slam me on my own turf, and I was completely fine with it.

But if we’ve learned anything, it’s that Jim almost never does the predictable thing. Instead, I opened my email inbox and found this gem – a passage detailing our origins and the things that made us the wonderful weird way we are. Please enjoy, courtesy of Jim:

“Men wanted for hazardous journey. Low wages, bitter cold, long hours of complete darkness. Safe return doubtful. Honor and recognition in event of success.”

That’s how I remember the Facebook message I sent to Sam Neumann Spring of 2008. Bold, brave, and manly as a grizzly fight atop a mountain of Bud Light. All attributes I would generally ascribe to myself.

In actuality it read:

“What’s your plans for the summer? Nothing? Well, you should go and work in alaska with me. Broads, beer, bush whacking, 23 hours of sunlight, the list goes on. But seriously, you should think about it. We’d make 9 an hour, plus room and board. Somehow you end up with a Ferrari. Give me a call.”

Not quite the eloquent, grammatically correct and awe-inspiring message my memory served, but it did the trick. I bagged my best pal for a summer of pumping gas and hawking muffins for just over minimum wage 2500 miles from home.

In truth, Sam and I had done a lot of bizarre things together, so it only made sense that he would respond with a resounding yes to this, the dumbest proposal of our friendship.

To understand why Sam said yes, you need to know about a few notably dumb, key moments which led to our summer of love and moose:

  1. The First United Methodist Scavenger Hunt
    While other teenagers smoked drugs and listened to Limp Bizkit to express their emotions, Sam and I made up shit that we thought was funny to fill our evenings. One such evening, Sam and I fabricated a church youth group scavenger hunt. This consisted of us blasting contemporary Christian rock, going to fast food restaurant drive-thrus and excitedly yelling “Hey! It’s team eleven with the First United Methodist Church Scavenger Hunt, are we the first team through?!” What followed was serious confusion, us reading off a list of items like 50 packets of mustard, 40 straws, a small tub of sour cream… all of which we assured them should be pre-assembled, as promised by our youth pastor, Rod. We filmed this and thought it was fantastic.
  2. Foul Play
    When we found out that our high school had an unused TV studio, we decided it was time for it to be used. We somehow connected with the spastically excited director of the defunct TV studio and decided it was only right that we should start our own show. It would be called “Foul Play” and we would pick a topic and argue about it. Usually it was sports, about which I know absolutely nothing. But, we figured that doesn’t stop anyone on CNN, so we went for it. We had a run of two episodes, but I’m pretty sure with 18 viewers, it was the highest rated television program ever to air on Chisago Lakes public access.
  3. Sam’s Big Day
    During graduation party season, Sam and I lamented about answering the same dumb questions over and over at the event from friends parents and distant relatives. Well, being ingenious smart-asses, we came up with the perfect solution: a video that answered all those questions so people wouldn’t have to ask. The result included Sam on a pontoon and in various lake situations answering questions such as “Where will you be attending school this fall?” or “Where are you working now?” Classic! Like everything we did, not everyone got it, but we didn’t care. It was bizzaro and pretty funny in our minds…
  4. Friday Afternoon Taped (FAT)
    As middle-schoolers, Sam, myself and a few other good buddies decided that we were all pretty funny and we also had access to a video camera, so we would come up with a sketch show that would rival Saturday Night Live. The result was FAT. A several-year series with a revolving cast and recurring characters, such as the Owl Man, T Pederson’s Tricked Out Trick Hour, Sylvan Learning Center, among other things. I’m pretty sure it won some awards.
  5. Mungo Jerry Prank Calling
    In what many (Sam and I) have deemed the best prank phone call of all time, we would call friends and family from an unknown number and sing the melody of “In the Summertime” once through. When we ended, we would wait until we heard them respond in some manner, then we would launch into the song again. This would continue until the person hung up. Hilarious! And as you can imagine, not everyone got it.

In short, Sam and I were always up for whatever ridiculous thing the other suggested. Our trip to Alaska was the pinnacle of that. A pinnacle I hope we can top. Sam, it’s on you. I’ll keep an eye on my Facebook message inbox.

Animals

In celebration of Memoirs of a Gas Station being released in paperback today, I decided it would be a good idea to scrounge up some more old Alaska videos.  What we have here are a few short clips I shot on my Nikon point-and-shoot camera during that fateful summer – some delightfully low-quality amateur wildlife videography!

These were all taken from the banks of Horseshoe Lake – a local spot we used to go to to hang out or look for animals. A few days there, I had the good fortune of moose and beavers allowing me to observe them. You’ll hear me providing my usual superfluous narration…and that other voice? That’s Damian, who will be doing a guest post on this blog sometime in the future with his take on the summer and the book.  (And by the way, he has a blog of his own at http://damiankyle.wordpress.com/. It’s hilarious, and you should probably give it a read if you haven’t already).

To the animals:

 

As you can see, not much happens. The beavers were very friendly though – on more than one occasion, I sat and watched them build a dam on the edge of the lake. Tireless workers, they are. If only I’d gotten an otter on video…

Talent

If you’ve read any of Memoirs of a Gas Station, you’re almost certainly familiar with Jim, the worldly, strapping young lad that was the catalyst for – and my de facto guide during – the trip to Alaska. Jim is one of my best pals and, in all honesty, a damn saint for allowing me to write and publish so many (mostly subjective) good-natured but incendiary quips about him. He is a man of many talents, and I’d like to share one with you below.

Now, I may have mentioned in the book that we from time to time skirted our gas station responsibilities and/or played mind games with customers in an effort to maintain sanity. This is probably an example of that. On an especially boring afternoon, Jim decided that he would answer all customer questions while juggling oranges – an activity that he obviously mastered.

 

The question was about a shuttle service in the canyon; one we received an average of 37 times per day, and thus were robotically conditioned to answer. This could be why he made it look so easy. At the end, you can hear me applaud Jim’s work, then sulk back to the menial reality of the job and “ring up” the next customer. At least we had those 19 seconds.

 

Free Stuff

Hey gang,

Ever think to yourself, “Man, I enjoy ebooks and humor and gas stations and Alaska – along with humorous ebooks about gas stations in Alaska – but $2.99 is just a little too rich for my blood”? Well, this is your lucky day. Actually lucky two days, because today and tomorrow (June 18 and 19), Memoirs of a Gas Station will be available FREE on Amazon.com. Just follow this link to get a piece.

Download, read, love. Hell, write a review. If you’ve been nervous about diving in, this is your chance – it’s risk-free. You literally have nothing to lose.

Just the fact that you’ve come to this page in the first place assures me that you’re awesome, so I’m confident you’ll do the right thing. Bottoms up!*
*Technically, “bottoms up” doesn’t make sense here. But I’ve decided it can go wherever it wants. It’s a pretty nonthreatening and fun-loving cliche. So bottoms up.

Visual Stimulation

Have you read Memoirs of a Gas Station? Are you currently reading it? Is it in your metaphorical “to read” pile? Are you considering reading it, but first trying to get over your deep-rooted psychological aversion to books?

If you answered “no” to all of these questions, that’s okay. Seriously, it’s cool. I’m not even mad. I mean, sure, I put like a year and change into writing the thing, and I’m basically baring my soul for the whole world to see…but no big deal.  I promise. Would you excuse me for a second?

If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, then welcome. Come on in, take off your shoes, and get comfy. Let go of your inhibitions. Be with me. Take your coat off and let me fix you a drink. Scotch okay? Great. For you, I have a little something. You know when you read a book and your mind creates little mental pictures of people and places? I’ve come to destroy those. Not because I hate you…I love you. I just thought it might be fun to put some visuals with the words. So…some photos from the cast and crew of Memoirs:

This is Jim. I chose this particular out-of-focus shot because it captures the essence of working at a gas station: dread, regret, and shame. This was taken immediately after Jim found out he would be spending his summer working at the Lynx Creek Store. See the smirk on his face? He couldn’t help but smile a little at how much life had screwed him over. I can almost here him asking “Why, God? Why me?” It was a true low point in his life, and like any good friend, I was there to capture the moment.

This is Horseshoe Lake, the sight of many moose and beaver viewings. It was a fairly popular, yet cozy little spot. The farthest body of water you can see – on the left side – is the Nenana River. Our living quarters were situated near the banks of that river.

This is a bear. Not exactly sure where I found this guy, but I assume I was staring him down, holding a Bowie knife, and daring the son of a bitch to attack. Or I was in a seat on a bus, taking this picture through a glass window. You decide.

Damian (left) and Kenny, early in the season, getting ready to attack some hills near a place called Toklat. Yes, that Kenny.

On the banks of Horseshoe Lake, watching a moose eat dinner. On the other side, some parents and snot-nosed kids look on.

This is a Dall Sheep. I named him Roland. Kenny and I were near Savage River, climbing a mountain and looking for a suitable campsite, and this guy kept following us. At one point I stopped and waited for him to crest the hill, then snapped a quick picture before he could gore me or whatever they do with those horns.

That’s it for now, but do come back for more in the future!

The Finger

Following the release of my book Memoirs of a Gas Station (*cough cough* $2.99 on Amazon *cough*), I’ve been digging through the media archives for pictures and short videos of the excursion. This is partly for general reminiscence and partly to make sure I haven’t grossly distorted any facts (no comment). In the process I’ve come across some entertaining little nuggets, which I’ll be sharing here in the near (and possibly far) future.

Today, I’d like to take a look at this gem: it’s a quick video chronicling some minor home surgery on one of my fingers. And by “minor home surgery,” I mean thrusting a blackened needle through the fingernail to release the considerable pressure from blood that had built up underneath it. If you’ve read the book, you’ll recall this was a consequence of accidentally let it slam between two large steel doors with faulty springs. This was also the same time I realized the dining hall closed at 7 p.m. It was 7:15. I was hungry. Overall, not a good night.

The finger of course turned purple and immediately swelled up to the size of a small pineapple. And, oh, it kind of hurt. In the coming days the swelling would get better, but as the fluid beneath the fingernail filled up more it became almost impossible to use the finger, for each time it was so much grazed by a paper bag I was using to corral some senior citizen’s six-pack at the gas station, my hand would shoot with pain. It was during one such bagging session when a passerby noticed how I was favoring the finger, and told me to use the technique shown below.

This video is highly embarrassing for a few reasons. First, judging by the pitch of my voice, I either hadn’t gone through puberty when this was shot or had just inhaled a balloon full of helium. Whatever. Second: the obvious physical and mental struggle I went through just trying to accomplish the simple task of putting a needle through my fingernail. I was clearly confused on the proper procedure, and I think my hands were sweaty because I knew it was all being captured on camera.

Regardless, roll the tape.

That was Part 1. You probably noticed a voice in the background talking to some hipster probably named Blake about some band probably called Animal Collective. That was Jim – much more on him on this blog in the future. He was on the other side of the room looking away, because he knew what was going on and had some blood/sight issues. I offered him a spot on the surgical team, but he for some reason declined.

Anyway, we took a break to strategize the best practice for the procedure, and somewhere in that discussion the needle found its way into where it needed to be. Which is when the camera began rolling again. WARNING: This one is a little more graphic. So if you’re squeamish…just be ready to cover your eyes.

And just like that, Kenny – who had been observing the ordeal –grew tired of my inability to finish, jumped right in with his unsweaty hands, and pulled the damn thing out. I really do owe him. The finger got much better after this (I squeezed most of the blood out), and eventually the fingernail just fell off to make way for a new one. The circle of life, ladies and gentlemen.

I’d like to thank Kenny for his uncanny action and also the female behind the camera – who will remain nameless, to protect her innocence – for shooting it.

Please feel free to share similar experiences or just make fun of me in the comments section down at the bottom of the page.

Announcement

Everyone please gather around for a quick announcement in the form of shame-free self-promotion:

In case you were wondering, my first book, Memoirs of a Gas Station, has been released as a Kindle e-book. It’s a fun and totally-worth-your-time account of one summer I spent working at a gas station in central Alaska. If you enjoy this blog at all, I can definitely probably guarantee you’ll enjoy Memoirs as well, because it contains the same sarcastic tone and general view on life. And a whole bunch of hilarious and fulfilling stories about animals and hippies and hitchhiking and stuff. Plus, it’s cheap – only $2.99. What a deal! You can get it for pretty much any technological device you own (not necessarily just a Kindle, although that works too). Click here to take a look.

That’s all. As always, thanks for reading.