Alaska or Busted

Our Alaskan Adventure began in true redneck fashion: 6 of us packed into a pick-up, luggage tossed in the truck bed, driving just one vehicle so we could save money on parking fees.

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Winchester shells were falling from the door pockets as we climbed out of the truck at the Delta terminal Drop Off. I was surprised we weren't sequestered and questioned right then. My luggage weighed in at 48 lbs, 2 lb under the max. limit, bringing on a high-five from a doubtful Brielle. Jan greased the palms of our Delta Agent (oo7) and the remaining luggage was ticketed without being weighed. Jan did a little more schmoozing and our luggage fees were waived, too. Yes, I'm going to like traveling with Jackie's most excellent sister, Jan.
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I did, however, get pulled aside at the security x-ray. They were very jumpy about my carry-on bag. They unpacked the entire thing and went through my tricked out pencil bag. OK, so my charcoal blender looks like a sharp, pointy weapon. My B. Who's gonna go to Alaska, the Last Frontier, without their charcoal blender and eraser, 7 different sharpie colors, a mod-podged personalized notebook, binoculars, toothbrush, ipod, antibacterial gel, bandaids and yes, four different pairs of glasses?
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It wasn't long before Jan was gesturing wildly with Agent 007 once again. 007 was trying to tell us our flight was delayed due to mechanical problems. Oh no. That's not acceptable says Jan, our Cruise Director. Bibbidy, Bobbidy, Boo, she got all six of us on the next flight out, re-routed thru Detroit with free meal vouchers and 15,000 free sky miles for our inconvenience. So we enjoyed a relaxing, discounted Japanese dinner in the Detroit airport. Mwah, Mwah, Jan, mwah, mwah, mwah, I love you, dahling.
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I could see that traveling with Doug and Jackie was going to be good for the blog. Very good indeed. Doug had a lot of anxiety about everything (Doug doesn't leave town often).
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Jackie slipped him a few xanax . . .
and settled him right down.
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I could also see that traveling with EBB and ERB was going to be a hoot.
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Oh, yes, the Rednecks are ready for Alaska . . .

. . . Is Alaska ready for the Rednecks?