By Lynn LickersThere have been no Alex sightings since Saturday, July 8. No sightings, no phone calls, not even a post card. But really, I’m not worried. Maybe they struck gold in Yukon Territory and are busy panning and weighing nuggets the size of your head. Maybe they found an awesomely beautiful piece of country and decided to hang out for a couple extra days to explore. Maybe they met up with some Tlingits and are learning how to make boots from walrus skins. Maybe my brother’s truck broke down and they’re wandering across the frozen tundra breathing their last breath . . . . But really, I’m not worried. I’m pretty sure their travel route did not cross any tundra. But the truck breaking down is a distinct possibility. My brother bought a new truck just for this trip. “New? is defined by him with anything less than 125,000 miles on it. This one had 124,468. But really, I•m not worried. In fact, I’m so not worried that I watched an entire Animal Planet special last night on Alaskan Wildlife. I was hoping I might catch a glimpse of my son but he was nowhere to be seen. Plenty of cuddly little polar bear cubs watching their mamas rip the heads off baby seals, lots of Trumpeter swans treading water to avoid becoming lunch, and a wolf pack of starving females being pursued by males in heat. But no Alex. I’ve left several voice mails for my brother on his cell phone, with no return calls. I’ve decided I’m going to quit calling. What the heck. They’re either having a great time, or they’re miserable, or they’re dead. Whatever. They’re big boys and can take care of themselves, right? Who, me? Worry?