I don’t review much. Mostly because I hate reading reviews.
Very seldom does something line up the same way for reviewers and critics and myself.
Life is frenetic, and as a journalist, I’m too often caught up in the spider web of pop culture and hard news, trying to dissect the edible morsels for the ravenous public.
So when I want to unwind with something entertaining, I want it to be ridiculous, far from either my own experience or the realities I have access to.
It was 2012, the snowiest year on record in Anchorage, Alaska. My wife was working nights at a local Applebees, and I was trying to come down from the highs of covering both the Iditarod, the 1,000-mile sled dog race and the Iron Dog, a 2,000-mile snow machine race.