At the dawn of time, cavemen were huddled around the center of their existence…..the hearth. They crowded inside their caves for warmth and shelter, eager to roast and eat their latest hunted game. They amused themselves with drawings on their cave walls and by grunting their way into a form of communication. Outside was a bitter, dangerous wasteland. A dark and desolate and dark (did I say that already?) vastness where only the fittest survive. Their survival was shelter and warmth and their solace was food and each other.
A hop, skip, and a jump later through time, enter the hearty citizen of Fairbanks, Alaska. He runs from his heated car into his warm house and locks himself within. He throws logs in the furnace or cranks up the fuel heater to thaw himself from temperatures 30 below zero. The Fairbanksman is eager to grill the steak which he carved from the hind of the caribou killed from last weekend’s hunting trip. After the feast, the Fairbanksman amuses himself with moving drawings on the wall projected by his Samsung TV. He grunts his way through a conversation with another Fairbanksman whom he has invited into his homestead after they both enjoyed a bottle (or six) of Alaskan Amber. Outside, a bitter wasteland where roads have been overtaken by ice. A dark, three hours of sunlight, day in which only the fittest survive. The Fairbanksman’s only survival is his shelter and warmth; his only solace is food and other Fairbanksmen (granted there is alcohol).