How big was it?

I couldn't wait another 30 years so the other day I took down the other birch whose twigs interfere with my Denali photos.

This one was a different matter. For one, it was huge, much bigger than the first one and situated in such a way if not cut properly it could have fallen in any direction. The first one already had a good lean in a downhill direction. This one not so much.

Now, approaching a tree that weighs tons and can fall on you, takes some planning. Where to drop it: the safest direction, but also a direction in which you have ample access for the process of bucking it up into firewood lengths. Then in this country in deep snow you have to consider footing too. You want it so your feet don't slip, but you also want to be able to get the hell out of the way quickly in case the tree doesn't go where it's supposed to.

Think about this: The logging industry usually makes the top ten list for dangerous jobs along with fishing in Alaska. There are serious injuries and deaths almost every year. And, those guys are pros; they know what they are doing. Then a neophyte like me wanders into the woods and tries to take down a huge tree based mostly on the instructions that came with the chainsaw he bought which is a little on the light side for work like this. Granted I have done it enough now I feel like I know the basics, but I am nowhere near the supposed proficiency of those professionals in the deep woods down south, the ones who suffer injuries and deaths at least at a nation-class level.    

So I approached this guy very carefully. My planning paid off; the tree came down exactly where I had expected it to land.

How big a tree is it? After it came down I made a rough measurment from the stump to the highest branch I could find. It was between 60 and 70 feet tall. It was a little difficult to tell because there were gaps and a lot of upper branches ended up buried in the snow. There's also this: My 50-foot tape measure only went to 48 feet. I recalled a business law teacher I had years ago. He once counted the paper clips in a 100-count package. There were 97. He then figured how much the company saved over a year by giving consumers three fewer paper clips in each box. It was considerable. And then I wondered how much this tape-measure company saved by counting on the fact that very few people would measure out to 50 feet and cutting off two feet. Two feet of metal tape, plus printing times a couple hundred thousand sold. Again, probably a considerable amount. So I had to measure twice, estimate the gaps and came up with something taller than 60 feet.

Height, though, isn't the only measure of a tree. The diameter of the trunk at the point of the lowest cut I made was a little more than 22 inches. Probably should have measured circumference too because I can't quite get my arms around those lower ones. That doesn't matter much becasue I can't lift them either. This is dense wood and it is h-e-a-v-y.

So today, it is down, bucked up and stacked next to the trail at the bottom of the hill. A few rounds have been split with many more to go. I will have to split the big ones down there and bring them up in pieces. There are still some branches deep in the snow also and I might have to wait for summer to cut them. Some of the branches I have already cut up are larger than some trees I have cut in the past. So there's a long way to go yet.

Still, it's a warm feeling just having accomplished this much of the process and knowing with some confidence that I will have an adequate supply of firewood for a while. And I haven't even gotten to the point yet where Thoreau started counting for his "wood warms you twice" statement.

As my friend Joe May says, "out here a man is judged by the size of his wood pile."

There's also the joy of taking Denali pictures without those twigs in them.

To cut or not to cut

A writer's Merry Christmas

I received the best Christmas present this year, a year when I chose to pretty much ignore the whole thing. I decided some time ago to spend the month of December at the East Pole. Go to your happy place they say and I did. I have not regretted it, though I am sure some relatives aren't real happy with me.

So, this present came as a total surprise. Christmas Eve I was listening to my favorite music of the season, which though I am not religious is the traditional religious carols. They move me in ways almost every other genre does not. My concert always ends with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing "O Holy Night." Mostly the choir backs a soprano who sings that song like no one since Bonnie in our schoolboy church Christmas pageants. The ones where I was always a shepherd.
Anyway the gift began during the choir's rendition of another classic, "Silent Night."

For years I have been collecting misinterpreted lyrics in Christmas carols with the idea with enough of them there could be a really clever story in it. An example would be: " … with angelic host …" becomes the Jelly Coast.

So last night listening to the Mormons sing "Silent Night," I heard a new one and this one involved names. Names mean characters and characters mean stories. It happens that fast.

It's been years since I have written much that is truly creative, except maybe an occasional post on this blog.

I have gone so far as advertising for a muse on Craigslist. I was invited to do some interesting things, none of which involved writing.

So imagine those urges being stimulated by an idea. I was so happy with it, I just had to tell someone.

During the day I had exchanged messages with a friend online and she has an interest in writing also. So I sent her a message explaining the project and telling her the inspiration I had just received from the Mormons. Mind you, at this point the gift had not yet started giving.

I realized it was late where she lived and I would not hear from her quickly. And then just as I was falling asleep, I had the awful feeling I don't know her very well and I might have offended her with what could seem like making fun of traditional beliefs.

Christmas morning I opened her message with some trepidation but I should have given her more credit. She loved the idea, she loved the new additions and even offered some suggestions of phrases she had heard. Now the gift was giving. As I went about the chores of the day, the idea was festering and growing in my mind.

By late afternoon too much was going on for me to ignore it any longer and I actually sat down to write: total creation for the first time in years. Talk about Christmas joy. I once told a woman friend that total immersion in creative writing is better than sex. She didn't believe me. Silly girl.

Anyway I wrote for two solid hours, one idea following another and coming so fast I had to stop the narrative only long enough to write the ideas for the future so I wouldn't lose them. The gift that keeps on giving.

After about two hours I came up for air. I had to restart the fire (the one in the wood stove) and take care of other chores, like food for one.

Now, breathing regularly again and coming down I recall the time this friend and I exchanged ideas about muses and what I was looking for. She correctly saw right through me, telling me what I was really looking for was a friend I could talk about things like this with. I don't think, though, that she was volunteering. But she has done it, probably without realizing it, and in the process given me the greatest gift someone could give a writer, in this case unmitigated encouragement.

I would love to share what I have written but that is a great way to lose interest in something quickly. I don't anticipate it being completed soon, either. I still need several more phrases and they will come and perhaps lead to more days like today. But I don't think it will hurt to give a little hint. My new characters are named Alice Calm and Alice Bright.

"Silent Night" New York Philharmonic and Mormon Tabernacle Choir

Memo from the creek, Christmas 1972.

People often ask what is the appeal of living this way even for short amounts of time. Here my friend Joe May explains it as well as any I have ever seen. It is 10 below at the East Pole and snowing small flakes that I estimate on average are 3 feet apart. For the past two mornings when I have stepped outside in the morning darkness I have heard an owl call. "Who, who" he asks, and I respond softly, "Me, me," and I step out into his world. That's part of "why" too -- Tim

Memo from the creek, Christmas 1972

Here lives a quitter

a non-go-getter
who disenfranchised the world,
by shirking the pace
and blowing the race
into which we're collectively hurled.

Now forests and streams
provide the means
for adequate existence,
with crystal air
providing fare
for breath without assistance.

Telephone rings
and electrical things
are sacrificially nil,
commiserated
but consecrated
by lack of a monthly bill.

Garbage disposers
and pneumatic closers
are subject to cynical mirth,
as social symbols
suspended in gimbals
to minimize human worth.

Through winter's night
and summer light
I've racked my mind in vain,
to comprehend
the insidious trend
toward self destructive gain.

From here it seems
society teems
with astigmatic goats,
whose principle aim
is to eat the frame
and bottom out of their boats.

So guard my friends
until the end
your civilized possessions,
your ulcers and smogs
and traffic clogs
and psychiatric sessions.

And tally time
I'll stake my dime
against your fated liver,
you buy salmon
by the can.....
I own the river.

– Joe May  ©

This is really for the birds

One of the gray jays perches in a spruce for a moment.

It's just not fair. I had to come out for a day to do some business, pay some bills, restock a little bit (and maybe see Star Wars :). So there I am puttering about, organizing, packing, watching some football and I look out the window and there not one but two unusual species of birds at the recently restocked feeders.

Neither is unusual for Alaska or for this area but they haven't been around my feeders very often recently. The first were redpolls. After almost breaking the bank buying feed for them three winters ago I hadn't seen many over the past two. Today a dozen or so attacked the feeders and the spilled seed on the ground. Most of the feeders had been empty when I pulled in last night, but a friend had come by and filled one sometime while I was gone and I filled the rest before daybreak and the birds were back when the sun came up. Chickadees and nuthatches of course, and the hairy woodpecker, but the ground was moving with the rolling carpet of redpolls pecking about at seed dumped by the others.

There  are several redpolls in this picture. I am too tired 

to count, and they were too spooky.

Then I noticed two larger birds poking about as well and flying up to the feeders. These were Canada or gray jays. They've come by the bird bath in the summer but I've never seen them at the feeders in winter. They stayed for much of the afternoon along with the redpolls and the regulars so there was quite a lot of action in the yard.

That's where the unfairness comes in. You see I had brought my camera gear out rather than leave it at the cabin on the off chance somebody might break in. So with all the action in the yard there was no way I wouldn't try at least one picture. Right, just like the potato chips. So there went about two hours I could have been packing and napping in front of televised football games. Maybe I should just close the curtains. Nah. Back to the mountain tomorrow.

To cut or not to cut …

 What's missing from this picture?

The East Pole stands in a boreal forest at its climax stage. That means a mix of deciduous and conifer trees that have reached maturity, some of them measuring their height in triple digits. Their age might also be measured in triple digits. Who are we even to approach such majesty?

Huge birch and spruce trees rise above the cabin in all directions and they add to the beauty of the place tremendously. I have always tried not to take down a growing tree for firewood, waiting for the really old ones to rot from the inside and then fall before a good wind. The blow-downs have served well over the years. But there are a couple of trees that have been a pain for almost 30 years now. Their crime? They partially block the view of Denali. Mostly branches and twigs get in the way and with the advent of autofocus, I get great pictures of sharply focused twigs and the mountain a blur in the backbround. I have plotted against those two trees for years. Those tall spruce in the pictures are ok so far; they provide perspective and framing, but the twigs on these two birches have been an irritant almost since I moved in, early in 1986.

Mature birch

Well, the day before yesterday I took one of them down. Sad to see it go but it does make a pretty picture stacked under the house, too. That's probably the last picture I will ever take of it, but then I have probably a hundred with it in them in one form or another, so I can never forget.

That's what's missing from the most recent picture of Denali; no twigs. Now I wonder if it's going to take another 30 years of plotting to take the other one down.

Is anyone looking into solar-powered snowmachines?

I once met Sidney Huntington who died last week at the age of 100. We had flown to his home town of Galena, on the Yukon River 500 miles west of Fairbanks, to do a story about an air taxi operator who had run out of gas, literally. It was during the big gasoline shortage in the early 1970s. The flight operator had been supporting 18 trappers in the bush but because of the shortage was unable to obtain fuel and those trappers were stranded without a connection.

We had flown there to do a story about the first real victim of the gasoline shortage. In the course of the day we met Sidney. What I found amazing about the man that day was when I asked him what could be done about the gasoline shortage. I expected a tirade about all the city people with their gas guzzling automobiles and their wasteful ways. Instead he ticked off ways people in Bush Alaska could cut back. Living on margins, they seemed to me to be the last people who should have been called on to sacrifice more.

Fast forward to today. A friend posting on facebook about the recent world agreement on cutting back  on carbon emissions wondered if someone had yet invented a solar-powered snowmachine. That hit home; what do we do with the folks who depend on small engines for survival – not automobiles, but snowmachines and generators and chainsaws and water pumps, all powered by small gasoline engines.

For much of my adult life I have had a relatively small carbon footprint. At on point the only internal combustion engine I owned was a chainsaw and you can guess how many hours a year that burned up gasoline. If I used a gallon a year it was a lot. My collection grew slightly to a generator that I used to energize power tools, also not a big user. Lately though I find myself using it more, watching movies and the like and I have it running right now to power the cellular signal booster that gives me a relaible connection to allow me to be writing and posting this. Eventually I bought a snowmachine and then a four-wheeler. I installed propane lights and a propane cooking range in the cabin.  Over the early years I went 11 years without a car. Then I got married and had to have two – something I still don't quite understand.

So today I looked around and it's a generator, a chainsaw and a snowmachine. Oh yes, and my Jeep sitting out at the trailhead, and I wonder what happens at Carbon 0 to those of us who depend on small engines? Will gasoline prices soar to exhorbitant levels that we can't afford?  Will we find solar-powered snowmachines? Unlikely. At least at first we  might be victims of the majority.  But thinking further, I suppose all of those could be electric with charging energy supplied by solar or wind generation.

Perhaps it is time for some creativity and invention to be able to supply the demand when the time comes because thinking back to Sidney Huntington, those of us living off the grid (even short timers like me) don't have a lot of margin for any more sacrifice.

Shadows oh the Koyukuk, The Sidney Huntington Story

Solstice and poetry

I was putzing around the cabin today and NPR had a program of a woman reading poetry mostly about the solstice that's coming next week. A couple of things bothered me about the show. One was  why do people have to write flowery, sappy stuff about this sort of thing?  The other is why can't they wait for the event? I mean, it's still more than a week; why go all out about the solstice this far ahead of time? Perhaps it is part of my lack of success in the news business that I preferred to report what happens, not what I think is going to happen. I don't even like the sportscasters bound to predict the outcome of games and I cheer when they get it wrong especially if a whole panel of them gets it wrong.

The woman reading the poetry spoke almost in a monotone and flubbed words fairly often. Then one of her poems sounded less flowerly, more in tune with the spirituality and the history of the solstice. I listened more closely but I couldn't repeat a line if I had to; except for one. She had been reading the names of authors at the end of each poem. The name at the end of this one stopped me in mid sweep – Patricia Monaghan. My friend, my muse, my co-conspirator, who died of cancer a couple of years ago. It hit me as if she had been reading the poem herself and a flood of her words rushed to my mind. What stood out though is that her words are living on, she has a legacy and I am a witness to her success.

I only wish i could message her and tell her how I heard her poem way out here in the deep Alaska woods. She would have loved that.

A conversation
Monaghan on the solstice

Faith

Some days you just have to take it on faith that the mountain's still out there.

Storm on Denali

An extended long gray cloud obscures some of the lower slope of Denali, North America's tallest mountain Monday, Dec. 7, 2015. The peak at 20,300 feet rises above the cloud. What looks like a cloud stretches off the top to the right, but that's not a cloud. It's snow blowing off the summit in one of the wind storms that enhance legends of the mountain.

Best recollection of 2015 of the day so far

Every so often a headline shows up that just has to be reported, or a broadcaster says something so inane it just has to be pointed out. I have been posting them on facebook now and then under a heading like "Best such and such of the day so far." I got the idea a collection of them might be fun and satisfy an old journalist's compulsion to do some kind of year-end roundup, so here are the ones I found from the past year.

Meercat Expert Attacked Monkey Handler Over Love Affair With Llama Keeper

Worst analogy of the day so far: "Snow comes out of the sky like bleached flies."

Best sports quote of the day so far: World Series, "When it gets down to it at the end of this series it will be whose strength is stronger.

Best headline of the day so far: Duck Wearing Bow-Tie Walks Into Pub, Drinks Pint, Fights Dog, Loses

Best football analyst comment today so far: Michigan has won three shutouts in a row. Looking to the future an analyst says, “If they can eliminate turnovers they can win some games."

Best sports announcer comment of the day so far: "First you have to get two strikes on the hitter before you get the strikeout." Play-by-play guy: "Thats true."

Some are just plain interesting. I called this one Best crankshaft of the day so far: The Finnish Wärtsilä-Sulzer RTA96-C is the world's largest engine and powers the largest marine vessels in the world. It's a 25,480 liter, 14-cylinder engine that produces nearly 110,000 horsepower and 5.6 million lbs-ft of torque. Note the three men standing next to it. You have a crankshaft in your car's engine.

I hope these are enjoyed; you have no idea how tedious job it has been on iPhone and iPad.

Serenity now

Going over the river and through the woods

Back sometime in the new year.

If you don't get the hint, here's another one: Wait, did I dream I lived in a gingerbread house? 

And then here's my most recent favorite Christmas Song

So this is terrorism

Without giving it any thought at all I found myself giving in to terrorism today. It happened simply enough and was there before I could put up a defense. Here's how it came about.

I had to journey to the city a place where I find little comfort anyway. I found myself hungry and with an hour to kill so I went to a MacDonald's. They have one thing on the menu that I think is OK with my low-cholesterol diet. With my grilled chicken sandwich on a tray I looked over the available tables. I chose one close to the door which has always been what I've favored for what reason, I have no idea.

It was when I sat down that I realized terrorism was now having its effect on me. My thought was I am the first person someone coming in the door would see. Therefore it would make me the first target if someone came through the doorway shooting. I have never in my life had that thought before. But I realized now it is a very real consideration, given that the most terrorism in this country is some wacknut christian white guy with an AR-15.

I moved. Yes, I did. I succumbed to the terrorists and moved farther back into the restaurant, to a corner with my back to two walls. Mind you, I wasn't terrorized, I wasn't quaking in fear, but I was considering it and reacting to it and I realize now terrorism is a part of my psyche, ingrained.

I doubt I will ever go into a crowd any time again without checking the escape routes, the shelters, the defensible places and it is not because of ISIS or al Quaida or a Syrian refugee or even a Muslim of some kind. I don't feel much threat from them. But when you consider  it, most of the terrorist type attacks in this country come from white guys with some sort of religious justification or are just plain alienated from society. And the problem with those guys is they don’t' plan, there is no sneaky electronic messaging that can be intercepted, no large group from which squealers could be recruited. There's just no logic.

And now they have accomplished what the major terrorism organizations in the world could not. They have me analyzing my surroundings for where threats could emerge and acting accordingly. Isn't that's what the terrorists want? Fear embedded in the mind. White christians accomplished that when all those other guys couldn't. Welcome to my new world. And, as I said to one friend I told about this, I apologize for bringing you into it with me.

Hey CBS, we tuned in to watch a parade

Some days you just want to scream at the television. Flipping back and forth between the football game and the Thanksgiving Day parade and the parade broadcast is the next thing to ludicrous.

Whatever prompted the network to think the parade was only a minor irritation to pay lip service to in between unrelated, entertainment features that only serve to irritate the audience.

We didn't tune in to see a two-segment interview with George Takei, nice man that he is. We didn't tune in to see a segment of a Broadway show even though Frankie Valle was big in our youth.

And we certainly didn't tune in to see some woman first tell us the last thing anybody wants to do on a holiday is prepare a meal and then go ahead and tell us how to make a meal. I mean after all, who in this day and age can't cook a turkey? And if you are broadcasting after noon on Thanksgiving Day you are too late anyway. There are those plus the fact that for many people preparing the meal is the high point of the day.

And for many people viewing the traditional Thanksgiving Day parade is a high point as well. So, show the damn parade already; that's what people turned on the TV to watch and tell those two talking heads to shut up while you are at it.

The hell with Godot, waiting for snow in Alaska is worse

I am getting damned tired of scenes like this every winter.

So weather has me putting off my trip to the East Pole. Seems like a great day for random whining about life in general: gray, rainy, trapped.

First of all, raining and 40 degrees IN ALASKA, in NOVEMBER … later at 9:33 to be exact, the temperature hit 50 degrees and I had to check a GPS receiver to make sure I am where I think I am …

Then there's this headline: "APD Conducting Black Friday Traffic Enforcement" So as I understand it the Anchorage Police Department is going after black friday shoppers in their own form of black friday shopping. Hope they don't run into long lines.

The Anchorage D News has posted a story about where to go for a free Thanksgiving meal. You have to wonder how many people who would benefit from a free meal have access to a computer and the Internet. Why not print a bunch of posters and put them on walls and poles around town?

And, yes, I did not capitalize "black friday" on purpose. I realize I am quite alone in this but I absolutely detest the term. First of all, naming a day that is supposed to be associated with happiness of the season "black" seems antithetical. Secondly with the complaints about commercializing Christmas (that battle is lost) we anticipate a grand holiday dedicated totally to shopping, spending money, saving money by spending more money.  And get this, Monday there will be reports about how much was spent and how it will affect retailers going forward. Merry Chri$tma$.

Gwyneth Paltrow has a toothpaste squeezer that cost $244 …

SeaWorld defends keeping killer whales in captive swimming pools by stating they released two rescued sea lions to the wild. I am sure the wild killer whales appreciate that…

Bernie Sanders had this to say on Twitter: Why are we told that it's OK to bring in lettuce and tomatoes from unregulated farms but we cannot bring brand-name drugs across the border?

People are reporting more and more starlings in Anchorage …

Here's a comment from my friend Joe May who lives not too far from the East Pole: Got two falls of a foot each, a day apart. Blew up the old snow blower on the first one. Got to Wasilla for a replacement between falls. Now gone to 40 deg and I've got yogurt in the driveway. Ahhh, but the struggle continues – wouldn't have it any other way – the alternative is playing shuffleboard with old farts in Florida and that isn’t my game.

Facebook thinks I might know someone named CarolLaura CrispQuintana …

Another baffling headline from today: U.S. sanctions businessman helping Syrian government buy oil from Islamic State. Can anyone tell me Milo Minderbinder isn't alive and thriving?  (You'll have to ask.)

An introvert's worst nightmare: When your plans to be alone in the woods for Thanksgiving are destroyed by weather and now you have to explain again why you aren't going to accept any of the invitations you already turned down. ("I'd really love to but I have this turkey that's thawed now, so …")

Just learned the full moon in November is called the mourning moon. Amen …

In the past week or so, I have unfriended two people because of their posts hating on President Obama …

I burned up my mixer earlier in the week so I had to improvise
to make my punkin pie! Hammer drill setting nor required. My
nephew posted this on facebook today. I've  done this too.

People found a newborn baby in the Nativity scene outside a New York City church…

What do I do now department: A California policeman pulled over Google's self-driving car for going too slow.…

With a death this week there are only three northern white rhinos left in the world …

Avalanche warnings are out all over the place and there have been a few. A skier missing in Hatcher Pass …

For the first time a privately funded ship will launch from Cape Canaveral with a load of cargo for the International Space Station next year …

I saw The" Hunger Games, Mockingjay 2" the other day. Wrapped up the series nicely and didn't stray far from the book … 

Still no answer back from CarolLaura … and we have two mutual friends …

It's very frustrating that there is lots of snow and a huge storm north of here, unfortunately too far north. I'm pointing at you Fairbanks …

A Food Network survey lists the best breakfasts in each of the 50 states: In Alaska? Gwennie's reindeer sausage omelets. I have had the omelets there but not the reindeer and they are awesome. But, the best breakfast in Alaska used to be served in a place called Hogg Brothers Cafe which closed several years ago. They served something called a royale which included what might have been eggs Benedict but with asparagus involved. Now that I am on a low-cholesterol diet I am kind of glad I can't be tempted by one of those any more.  No. kids, not THOSE reindeer.

Oh, yeah thankful for the new lens too.

There is a guy whose real name is now Santa Claus on the city council in North Pole, Alaska…

CNN put up a poll of the greatest love quotes, mostly from movies. I liked this one: "Life is messy. Love is messier." From something  called "Catch and Release"…

That's probably enough but for this:" Thankful I am not going to die trying to get to the East Pole. Thankful for family and friends. For a place to live in relative comfort. And that in spite of and because of the weather I live in the most beautiful place on earth. And  I bet I might be the only one ever to say this: thankful for the Internet. Without it I'd just be another grumpy old man living alone and complaining about it. Oh. wait …

So, let's end on a positive note, or notes as they may be:

Weather all but stops traffic between Wasilla and Fairbanks.

Look at this picture and then ask yourself WWJD

This is how angry the sniveling cowards who want to refuse refugees sanctuary,  just in case one or two terrorists sneak in among the thousands of people fleeing the violence in their homelands,  have made me – angry enough to use this image.

Persecuted, tortured and murdered, those who survive make their way all the way to Europe and across it seeking only a secure place where their children are safe.

And in America people who yesterday wanted to infuse more Christianity into government, today politicize the mass of victims of the violence and want to prevent them from entering our country.  Thirty-five Christian governors chose to exclude refugees from their states, though it's questionable whether they have the authority to do that under federal law.

All that is what is making me so angry I would post this picture, take advantage of a tragedy to make a point. But the image in the picture IS the point.

It is a boy, 3 years old, who in an attempt to flee with his family ended up dead on a Mediterranean  beach. He is the symbol of the outrageous situation in his homeland and now I would like to sear this image into the minds of every single bible-thumping, gun-wielding American patriot who would turn this child away if he came knocking at the door, sear it into the minds of those people who will defend a fetus more than they will defend a living child. The people who want to ignore them should keep in mind the other searing images of the strife in Syria, the videos of beheadings, the lines of criminals shooting into mass graves, the real terror people are trying to escape.

This is what happens when the refugees from those atrocities are turned away, these 3-year-old potential terrorists, and this is what is fast becoming America's national embarrassment.

Live with this image for this is your guilt and your legacy, all you great American Christians. Condemn hundreds of thousands of people to this kind of result because truthfully you have reacted exactly as the ISIS criminals want you to, acting in fear, yes, acting in terror, the very product for which terrorism is named. You have reacted in terror and turned on your fellow man, who now needs your help. And you don't seem to understand that these people are fleeing their own homeland in terror, terror created by the same people you see as the enemy. That's right these people are afraid of and trying to escape the same people who are causing American politicians and wing nuts to act in terror at their actions.

How is it you recognize the danger but don't acknowledge that you have fallen victim to the same terror as the people you are trying to drive away.

And get this: France where the most recent attack took place, an attack that has generated this most recent round of fear, has promised to take in 30,000 of the very same refugees all these people in America want to stop at our borders.

Shame on all of you.

And, praise to those few governors who recognize the obligation and who are accepting the refugees openly.

Minnesota governor disses others who want to block refugees

Another day another group of refugees turned away

Anne Frank was refused refuge in the United States

An update September 2018. The boy's aunt has written a book chronicling what happened in the aftermath of the  tragedy.
The Boy on the Beach.

There goes another pleasant evening in paradise

OK so this song is a stretch, but somehow though it is probably a love song, it speaks to getting along in society as well. It may hold a lesson. It's also the first one downloaded in anticipation of a playlist.

Photo shows results of a pipeline spill of tar sands oil in
Mayflower, Arkansas, in 2013. 

Well, there is a pleasant evening gone all to hell. I really need to learn to not take things so seriously. I felt pretty good going into the evening, so good I poured a glass of wine which I seldom do any more and downloaded a song I have always wanted to have. Then I did a last look through the pages I follow on facebook and other sites before starting a romantic comedy on TV, all the time thinking I might come up with a playlist later based from the song I downloaded. I should have forgotten about the review.

Today is the day President Obama put the kabosh on the Keystone pipeline, an environmental disaster waiting to happen. It was a victory in so many ways and probably added to the good mood as I approached the evening.

 Then came the  roll through the facebook feed. In there two of Alaska's three representatives in Congress came out calling the president every name they could get away with on facebook and making the end of Keystone sound like it was the apocalypse. It started me on the downhill slide grasping for that well-being I had felt moments earlier.

Here is the statement by the missing senator. (I call him that because he ran more against President Obama than he did against his opponent, promising to stand up to the president at every step of the way. Once elected that was pretty much the last we heard from him – hence the missing senator.)

Senator Dan Sullivan

"President Obama put the interests of radical environmentalists above hard-working, middle-class Americans. The irony is, the same ridiculous arguments he made today against Keystone — will only create a handful of jobs; does nothing for our energy security; threatens our environment — are the ones environmentalists made against the Trans Alaska Pipeline, the lifeblood of our state for nearly 40 years. TAPS is a source of pride and prosperity for all Alaskans — liberal and conservative, Democrat and Republican alike. It’s a shame the President can’t see beyond his ideology to the boundless potential of our great nation." 

This being the second one of those I read (the first was Rep. Don Young's comments almost word for word) I could no longer let it go. So I responded on facebook with this:

"There's a big difference between TAPS and Keystone. All of the TAPS oil was destined for the U.S. market. All the Keystone oil was to go overseas; the pipeline only linked the oil fields in Canada with the port at Houston. TAPS employs a whole lot more than the 35 permanent jobs expected from Keystone. The tar sands oil is the dirtiest oil imaginable and the company already has a terrible record of spills. How oil drilled for in a foreign country and sent to market in other foreign countries hurts the Alaska economy takes more explaining than any of us want to hear. Listen to Dick Derevan below, we are tired of being demonized by ignorance."

First of all I am damned tired of being called a radical environmentalist. Aren't we past that by now? That is so 1970s. But then that's where the missing senator's awareness seems to have stalled. Radical environmentalists have been the go-to boogymen for everything that goes wrong in Alaska for so long it has its own acronym. REVs are to blame for everything here.

There are more ideas I would love to add to that comment on his facebook page but Alaska's Republican senators and our only representative have a history of not listening to people who disagree with them, but do often try to convince us otherwise. As a matter of fact Rep. Don Young, the other one who criticized the president today, at one time said he only represented those people who voted for him.

One point that I wanted to hammer home was from the missing senator's last statement about ideology hurting the "boundless potential of our great nation."  I mean, how do 35 jobs and providing an avenue for dirty oil to be transported from Canada to foreign nations hurt the "boundless potential of our great nation?"

And as far as raising the specter of hurting middle class Americans, oh please, anonymous one, you are a yes-man in a party that has done everything it can to destroy the middle class in this country, so you better just shut up about that one.

I guess "standing up  to Obama" really means being critical after the fact. See earlier posts about rope-a-dope

Well, these revelations and rants got me past that one but foolishly I went on down the facebook and Twitter pages until I came across the revelations about a pro football player beating up his girlfriend.

Briefly summarizing: Greg Hardy, who at the time was playing for the Carolina Panthers, was accused and convicted of beating up his girlfriend. That conviction was eventually thrown out on appeal. He was punished by the NFL by being suspended for 10 games which eventually was reduced to four. Released by the Panthers and out of football for a year, he was picked up by the Dallas Cowboys this year and has had a starring role there this season. Then, today the police investigation materials including photographs of his girlfriend's bruises were released.

Where I first picked up on it was when Cowboys owner Jerry Jones defended Hardy and called him a leader and a "Dallas Cowboy" as if that lifted him above common societal obligations. This isn't the first time the NFL or a team has defended a guy who beat up a woman in his life, nor is it likely to be the last, but it is THIS time. There is a joke on the FXX comedy The League where a guy in a fantasy league refuses to draft players with criminal records. He loses badly. In almost every other occupation a convicted criminal is ostracized. In the NFL he is defended and continues to be paid millions for playing a game. How many of these have to happen before something serious is done about it?

Maybe what we need is for President Obama to take a look at it and maybe throw another rope-a-dope at the opponents before he's done. Give the missing senator and his cohorts in the Tea Baggers something more to whine about.

Maybe with all that, the pleasant evening could come back, maybe with one of the last lines of the song. For what it's worth I really don't want to wait for these lingering issues to be over:

 So open up your morning light,

And say a little prayer for right

You know that if we are to stay alive

Then see the love in every eye

An explantion of rope-a-dope

Phenomenal waves and exploding lows; watching snow melt

This was all white yesterday.

Sitting here watching the snow go away. It's kind of like watching paint dry only with a negative rather than a positive outcome. After a decent snowfall last week that left 2 to 3 inches on the ground, the weather stayed cool enough to maintain the world in white. But overnight last night the temperature never went below 40, a chinook wind picked up and now there are spots of grass here and there. The last leaves in the trees blown away by the fresh wind dance across the remaining snow, like birds poking around for feed.

Of course we complain with a big snowstorm and then we complain when there's no snow, but this is getting old. It wasn't until March before there was enough snow last year to get to the East Pole. With a big expotition planned in December rain and warm temperatures in November aren't offering an optimistic outlook.  No snow, no go; it's as simple as that.

I will never call anyone a pansy 
again. These guys were under
three inches of snow for a week.

The wood stove received a good cleaning yesterday in preparation for the winter, but it won't be needed for a while after this. And the wind continues to blow.

Remember the line from Gordon Lightfoot"s "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald:" "… when the storms of November come early…?"  Well, it's early November. I heard the most frightening weather forecast in my life about one of those November storms. It came to mind today when I stumbled across a facebook post about a new boat with video about how it functioned in Sea State Five. I had not been aware of a schedule of sea states so I looked it up. Turns out there is one called the Douglas Scale which categorizes seas from 1 to 9. State five has waves 2.5 to 4 meters high. The official description of that level is "rough." What caught my eye, though was sea state 9 with the descriptive word, "phenomenal."

Imagine being at sea exposed and hearing a forecast for "phenomenal waves." That raised the memory of the most frightening weather forecast I had ever heard. We had waited patiently for a three-day weather window to cross the Gulf of Alaska in late October. It came when the forecast called for a low pressure system near Kodiak to weaken and dissipate. We took off from Valdez, sailed through Hinchinbrook Entrance and were halfway to Cape St. Elias when a new forecast came across. Within that forecast was this phrase: "… the low near Kodiak has deepened explosively." Deepened explosively! Holy Crap. Among three of us on the boat, none of us had heard that expression before. We managed to beat that storm into an anchorage in Icy Bay just east of the cape where we stayed buttoned down for two days. Even on the third day when the seas had dropped to maybe 5 or 6 feet and we went out in that chop, we only made 50 miles in nine hours because the temperature had dropped into the teens and the boat started icing up from the spray.

We kept going slower and slower until we finally made Yakutat where we had to sail over the bar in breaking waves with a very top-heavy boat. We stayed there another couple of days knocking ice off the boat and rearranging the cargo to provide better stability.

Sometimes when a storm blows through here, memories come up about those trips and about those souls currently out there on the ocean when "the storms of November" come early, even if that is a Great Lakes condition. Exploding lows and phenomenal seas are just that whether it's salt water or fresh water and the dangers are the same. But the warm winds that come with them across the land mass do nothing except frustrate Alaskans waiting for snow. Even so, I guess I'd rather be watching snow melt than getting pounded by phenomenal waves in an exploding low pressure system. The stories aren't nearly as good, though.

The Douglas Scales

State of the sea (wind sea)[edit]

Degree	Height (m)	Description
0	no wave	Calm (Glassy)
1	0–0.10	Calm (rippled)
2	0.10–0.50	Smooth
3	0.50–1.25	Slight
4	1.25–2.50	Moderate
5	2.50–4.00	Rough
6	4.00–6.00	Very rough
7	6.00–9.00	High
8	9.00–14.00	Very high
9	14.00+	Phenomenal

Swell[edit]

Degrees	Description
0	No swell
1	Very Low (short and low wave)
2	Low (long and low wave)
3	Light (short and moderate wave)
4	Moderate (average and moderate wave)
5	Moderate rough (long and moderate wave)
6	Rough (short and heavy wave)
7	High (average and heavy wave)
8	Very high (long and heavy wave)
9	Confused (wavelength and height indefinable)

If you are interested in seeing where this happened there is a map on this story.  Singin' them songs about them storms at sea  Cape St. Elias is at the tip of the narrow island that sticks out in the gulf between Hinchinbrook and Yakutat. Ice Bay is just to the east of the cape. Incidentally, the waves in this story I now know were officially "phenomenal."