The People You Meet in Fairbanks! (updated by Robin - see bottom)

 (by Leslie)

Although the greater Fairbanks area has a population of around 100,000, one wouldn’t expect to meet a whole lot of celebrities here. I mean, for example, it wasn’t all that surprising when I saw Lou Reed dining at Matsuhisa in Los Angeles several years back, and seeing Joe Montana shopping with his wife (actually, he was waiting outside while she went in to shop) in lower Manhattan was exciting, but not anything shocking.

But I sure didn’t expect it in Fairbanks.


Little did I know that this city is just hopping with culture—and celebrities. Our first hint was when Ron Paul decided to make a whistle-stop here the weekend before the Alaskan primary. As recounted in an earlier post, Robin and I went downtown to check it out, and managed to get pretty close to the genial, libertarian presidential hopeful:

Our next celebrity spotting was at the Open North American Sled Dog Races. No, it wasn’t an Iditarod or Yukon Quest winner—it was comedian Paula Poundstone, who was in town for a gig that night. She’d apparently been in Fairbanks some months earlier and had expressed an interest in mushing, so the powers-that-be arranged for her to take part in a demo race and then do a show that night. She was one of three competitors in the short, two-block race, which included senior dogs as well as mushers. Here’s what the local paper had to say about the event:

Poundstone finishes

Even though she’s still younger than 50, comedian Paula Poundstone was the guest racer in the AARP demonstration race from the start line to Noble Street and back.

Poundstone finished third behind veteran AARP racers Roger Champaine, 66, and Barb Moore, 60.

Poundstone had some trouble at the turnaround as her sled wiped out her handler and the dogs wanted to continue down Second Avenue.

Once she got turned around, she made a speedy return to the finish line.

“It was a blast,” she said. “I didn’t fall off and I didn’t sleep the whole time.”

I got this shot of Paula, all bundled up on her sled, at the finish of the race:

And here’s a link to a short video showing some of the real racing at this year’s competition.

That night we went to see Paula’s show at the UAF campus. She’d done her homework beforehand, and told plenty of local jokes about things like suffering violent electrical shocks turning on the lights and brushing her hair, and wondering why, exactly, are there so many Thai restaurants up here?

Afterwards we got to chat with her in the lobby, and Robin was able to confirm that it was indeed her house she saw some years back in Santa Monica (just a couple blocks from my parents’ house) with the Leave It To Beaver poster in the window.

Okay. So the last two celebrities were not that big a deal, since we knew in advance that the folks were in town, and actively sought them out. But this next one came completely out of left field.

We were with our friends Larry and Elena who were visiting from Santa Cruz, having dinner at The Pump House, a popular local watering hole with a carved wood, life-sized musher and dog team hanging upside down from the ceiling, when Robin said, “Check out that guy’s hair over there.” We looked over at to check him out, and when he turned our way, I laughed and said, “He looks like Tom Waits.” Then Larry said, “It is Tom Waits!” We all stared, trying not to look like we were staring, and then I said, “Omygod, I think you’re right—it is Tom Waits.”

At this point our waitress—a young gal we’d learned was a pre-law student at the university—came over to our table, and we asked if it was indeed Tom Waits.

“Tom who?” she said. She’d never heard of him.

The Tom look-alike and his dining partner, a blond woman about his age, got up to go pay and I jumped up to stealthily follow. I stood by them, pretending I wanted to talk to the cashier, trying to hear if he had that raspy Tom Waits voice. Alas, he didn’t speak. But as he walked out of the restaurant, I took a picture through the window just in case:

They were driving, I observed, a large white SUV that looked brand new.

When I went back to the table, our waitress informed me that the gal who’d been waiting on his table had confirmed that it was in fact Tom Waits, and that she was a great fan and had been terribly excited.

After that, the four of us joked a lot about the possibility of seeing him again, and were on the look-out for his car. Two days later as we pulled into the Ice Park, there it was: a big white SUV, right next to our spot. We peered in through the windows, but the only identifying object was an empty Starbucks cup.

Robin volunteered to go into the “warm room,” where they sold hot dogs and coffee and such, to see if he was in there, while Larry and Elena and I headed off to the single-block competition. Before we could even get there, Robin came running back up to us. “I think he’s in there! But,” she added, “I’m not sure, ‘cause he’s wearing a hat, so I can’t see his hair.”

We hurried over to the building and sure enough, there he was, with the same woman. This time I was determined to talk to him. So I did. I walked up and said, “I thought that was you. I saw you the other night at the Pump House, but didn’t want to bother you while you were eating. But since it’s obvious you’re following us around, I thought I’d talk to you this time.”

He seemed shy, or at least not wanting to talk about himself. But when he said he’d come up to Fairbanks for the aurora and we got to talking about that, he opened up a lot more. Turns out they were being dorks about it—not getting away from the light pollution and not waking up regularly in the middle of the night to check for it—so I gave him some tips on how to see it. He even took out a piece of paper and wrote stuff down, including good viewing spots. And yes, he did have a very gravelly voice.

That was that, and we figured we’d seen the last of ol’ Tom. But then the next day, Robin came back from buying the Sunday NYT, and said excitedly: “Guess who I saw at Starbucks!” Had we paid more attention to that cup in his car, I guess we should have known he might go back there.

“Did you ask him if he got to see the aurora?” I asked. But she had been too shy to talk to him.

I’ve saved the best for last. Not because she’s the most famous; she’s not. In fact, no one outside of Fairbanks would have even heard of her. But when Robin and I were at the Pioneer Park parking lot and a young woman in a CBS jacket walked over to a car with the CBS eye logo on its side, Robin and I recognized her. “Hey, I know you,” I said. “You’re on the nightly news show.” Sure enough, it was Ashley Briggs, the local weather gal.

a still from the evening’s weather forecast

Robin and I always look forward to her forecast, partly because the weather here is so fascinating, but also because Ashley is so damn cute and perky. And because she talks so very fast, but with such clear enunciation and spaces between her words.

Ashley seemed almost as excited as we were—to be recognized like that—and happily agreed to pose with us for a photo:

That night, I took this short movie of her giving her forecast. Note what she says about it “warming up” in Barrow, and then check out the temperature she’s referring to.

I googled her for this post, and learned that she graduated from UAF just last year with a journalism degree. Way to score the weather gig so soon, girl!

Now, I wonder who we’ll run into next...

Update:  The answer is Tom, the substitute sports guy on the same newscast as Ashley.  He seemed very happy that we recognized him. We told him to send Ashley our fond regards.

 Tom

But I also met the most famous local celebrity, and a personal hero, Lance Mackey.  I saw him sitting alone on a bench at the cute little Fairbanks airport and made a bee-line for him. As the only 4-time winner of both the Yukon Quest and Iditarod, he is quite legendary. 

Like myself, he had throat cancer.  Therefore I know this particular attempt was beyond crazy: While he still had a feeding tube in his stomach, he attempted to race the Iditarod in 2002.  He only made it half-way, but the fact of the attempt is quite stunning. I told him I was in awe of the effort.  He said, "Yeah, I'm kinda stupid."

Here is a photo and article from Psychology Today about Lance that will give you some insight into his character and why I (and the article's author) think he is awesome.