Distinguished Visitors
Occassionally seemingly important people decide they want to visit Antarctica as well. This year a group of Senators and Members of the House of Representatives graced us with their presence. Senators John McCain, Susan Collins and John Sununu along with 10 representatives comprised the lucky group.
Prior to their arrival the waste bins were removed from outside the buildings (one of the NSF representatives finds them distasteful) and each one of us townies was required to spend a couple of hours “daisy picking,” more commonly referred to as picking up trash. How Orwellian is that? Once off the plane the DV’s, as they are commonly referred to, receive special transport in spotless and relatively comfortable vehicles, stay in housing that separates them from the working class, take day trips to treasured locations such as the South Pole and the Dry Valleys, and generally speaking get treated like royalty.
I suppose this wouldn’t annoy me so if these *distinguished visitors* paid their own way like any other tourist. Instead, these royal folk get one hell of a boondoggle on our tax dollar. This fact is particularly bothersome to me because these guests are actually elected to represent *we the people* and to protect our rights as citizens. Yet here they are on a free ride to Antarctica visiting a base where taxation without representation exists. That’s right, labor laws are NOT enforced here. And I’ll never understand why *we the people* insist on refusing to allow our elected officials to experience this place (or any other for that matter) as the common folk – whom they represent – do. But, then, there is an awful lot I don’t get.
Of course with my attitude it goes without saying that I would be the one “lucky” enough to transport these DV’s from their plane at Pegasus airfield back to town. On the way out I had the company of 3 of the NSF Polar Research staff members. As we arrived at the airfield and sat waiting for our cue to approach the plane, one of the NSF members said to me,
“I’m not sure how to say this, but, do you know what your hat says, and do you want to be wearing that today?”
Earlier that morning I had dressed for just another day in Shuttles, but little did I know I was going to be representing the town of McMurdo as the DV’s rolled off the plane. Of course I knew what my hat said… FUKENFREEZIN ANTARCTICA. And, yes, it is what I wanted to be wearing. All the more so now that I was being more or less told that I didn’t. Yes, still stubborn and defiant at 32. I explained that as distasteful as my hat might be, my hair underneath would be even more so. He then suggested that I turn my hat inside out.
“It’s up to you,” he explained, “I just wanted you to be aware.”
Right. I sat stewing over this little interaction as I drove to the plane arguing in my head as to what I should do when my friend, Emily, a reporter with the Antarctic Sun who was also on board, offered for me to wear her hat. I didn’t feel like I could decline the offer under the circumstances. So, off came the hat. I’m certain even US Senators and Members of the House have a sense of humor. In fact I bet a few of them would have even inquired as to how to get their hands on a hat like mine. Well, at least the one who, after a few beers with his constituents, thought it would be funny to depants and moon his adoring fans.
McCain boards the Airporter as I stand outside and take roll call before letting each one board.
Tags: Travel
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