High Moose Alert
Poems from Vancouver, the Yukon and Alaska
by Rick Lupert
307 pages
Price: $19.95
Publisher: Ain’t Got No Press
ISBN: 978-1-7330278-5-4
To Order: Amazon.com
Reviewed by Michael Escoubas
I’m imagining that everyday life in the Lupert household is filled with humor. Why would I so speculate? Because Rick can’t help it. Humor is part of Rick’s DNA and a large part of his widespread appeal. Even the prologue to High Moose Alert is a humorous repartee on life, as son Jude drops himself at camp … to wit:
All of This is Normal
I want to tell you we dropped our kid
off at camp today, but the truth is
he was driving the car.
Our kid drove himself to camp today.
This has never been written before.
We were in the car.
We experienced it. The double whammy
of our boy who used to be a toddler
with cheeks from here to eternity
operating a motor vehicle on the
freeways of Los Angeles, on his way
to eight weeks away … maybe nine–
I can’t bear to look at the calendar.
Speaking of bears, we’re going to Alaska
where we hope to see one.
Alaska has made no promises. Someday,
we won’t be in the car when he drives
from place to place. Someday he won’t even
live in our house. None of this is normal.
This tongue-in cheek ditty sets the stage for a Lupert-led, laugh-filled tour of Vancouver, the Yukon, and Alaska. Other poems in the prologue reveal Rick’s displeasure with the flight to Vancouver, the Lupert’s first stop. These short poems written in fragments because they snatch stream-of-consciousness feelings about “Flair Airlines,” seating accommodations (not the best), Rick and Addie are seated so far apart they wouldn’t hear a moose braying if a moose was in the cabin!
Vancouver Day 1
After surviving the Flair Airlines flight to Vancouver, an experience which prompted Rick to swear off any other associations with it, Rick and Addie’s adventures continue:
They wait an eternity for an uber to arrive. At Granville Island Market, we find them eating pickles because they are good for the gut. “I’ve come to be healed by your pickles,” I tell her. / “Pickle healing is a thing,“ she assures me.
Rick, the consummate poet, is very observant. That is what makes High Moose Alert more than a mere travelogue. This collection breathes life and love. The Rupert’s are lovin’ every moment of this trip, despite its varied frustrations, ironies, and defugalties.
Note these typical examples excerpted from “A Long Poem Written in Late Afternoon.” For context: Rick and Addie have spent the day on a ship which specializes in displaying the sights, sounds, and nuances of the Pacific Northwest.
The seas have calmed as we’ve moved further north.
Vancouver must have completely given up on
luring us back.
It is late in the afternoon and we’ve had a full day
of mixology, tea, trivia and walking. We were
successful at all of these things, especially
since we were sharing the responsibilities.
I took care of mixology. We shared tea and trivia.
When I was walking, Addie read a book, but
also walked a little. I’m looking out of our
cabin window and I can see the world
floating by (again it is us who are floating.)
But still no moose, or Russia, or larger
portions of bear. No whales either – and this
seems like where they would be, swimming around
glancing at our ship like it’s their mother.
Granted that the foregoing is merely a compendium of snapshots, just enough to whet the appetite for more. Rick’s understated (well, maybe “sharp”) humor and down-to-earth good sense make High Moose Alert a treasure, more than worth its modest asking price.
Lingering Questions:
Does Rick ever get close enough to a moose to snap a photo?
And what about those elusive whales? Are they purposely eluding Rick?
|
