Overwhelming mess is a tragedy in layers
March 27, 2018
Cleaning up is a mild term for what needs to be done. It would be difficult to imagine much less describe how absolutely horrible the mess is. Seriously, there is barely a spot on a floor anywhere that isn't covered with something. Piles of garbage, stuffing a dog tore out of a mattress cover infused with spilled soft drinks next to a table in the master bedroom holding at least two crack pipes, several tiny plastic baggies, empty energy drink bottles, evidence of spilled foods, cigarette lighters and various other objects a druggie would keep next to the bed. Here and there in that room were items a child would use, toys, discarded boxes for toys, The Lego Movie DVD. Next to the table on the floor was a tangle of mattress stuffing held together by a spilled Slurpees of some sort plus anything else that would stick to the mess including a shoe, couple of broken smart phones and a couple of phone
cases. Around the room wires ran from a rack on the wall that would have held a flat screen TV. A line of small Velcro patches crosses about half the ceiling like they might have held up some kind of a curtain that could have shielded a child from the goings on in the bed and next to it.
As I was working through the mess moving stuff out of the way so we could get at the windows to measure them for their new plywood coverings, a thought began nagging my mind. Now and then someone would comment something like "you wonder how people can live like this." And eventually I began to wonder too and I realized my friend Kitty had lived in places like this with people like this. If you have followed this blog you have seen snippets of a book I have been working on for years about a young girl who ran away from an abusive home, became a meth addict and prostitute and lived in crash pads with other drug users. She had even described for me once how she and her friends had trashed a woman's apartment when they were high. And, this woman had taken Kitty in after a boyfriend/pimp had almost killed her when he shot her up with a mix of drugs. She had no remorse and thought it was odd that I would criticize her for it. As I was finishing up what needed to be done and making lists of materials and tools I would need the next day, Kitty and I carried on a conversation in my head about her life in a world that looked like the inside of this house. I lost the will to socialize. I suddenly hated the people who had done this to my friend's house and, too, I hated the people who had done what they did to Kitty. Though she was a welcoming participant, still, they trashed her mind and body in the same way these people had trashed this house, and who knows how many other Kittys might have wandered into a mess like this. I felt a sympathy for them though I hated them with my whole being.
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| The back yard in this photo by a neighbor is a story all its own.
July 21, 2017
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It felt a little bit like a block party as neighbors came by to chat and laugh a little and take a tour to view the damage. Some offered congratulations, others offered sympathy and most offered to help with the cleanup. It could have been a group of neighbors socializing on a sunny summer Alaska evening. The thirteen police cars lining both sides of the street might have given it away, but, then hadn't a block party ended now and then when one neighbor had a beer too many and let another neighbor know what he really thought of him, eventually leading to a call to the police?
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| The table by the bed. |
Despite the social aspect this wasn't your normal neighborhood party. What they had just observed, and were celebrating in a way, was an eviction. Neighbors who had dealt with the denizens of this home where they stood had come by to cheer and congratulate my friend for finally getting them out.
That friend had spent the past six months attempting to evict the band of tweakers and thieves who lived in the rental unit she owns. Time after time she went to court and was discouraged by one technicality after another. Meanwhile neighbors were complaining to the police who often visited the place finding stolen cars and investigating various illegal activities.
Finally this week the eviction went through. It took all those police cars and some insistence but the inhabitants packed up and took what they could in a big U-Haul. and left. Then the neighbors started showing up, But there is more frustration in store as the former residents have two weeks to come back and take what they want before they are out for good, so that keeps us from getting in there and cleaning up.
Cleaning up is a mild term for what needs to be done. It would be difficult to imagine much less describe how absolutely horrible the mess is. Seriously, there is barely a spot on a floor anywhere that isn't covered with something. Piles of garbage, stuffing a dog tore out of a mattress cover infused with spilled soft drinks next to a table in the master bedroom holding at least two crack pipes, several tiny plastic baggies, empty energy drink bottles, evidence of spilled foods, cigarette lighters and various other objects a druggie would keep next to the bed. Here and there in that room were items a child would use, toys, discarded boxes for toys, The Lego Movie DVD. Next to the table on the floor was a tangle of mattress stuffing held together by a spilled Slurpees of some sort plus anything else that would stick to the mess including a shoe, couple of broken smart phones and a couple of phone
That's just the bedroom. In the kitchen the sink was so full of dirty dishes you couldn't even find it. We moved a big bookshelf and discovered a stack of dirty pans still thick with grease and crawling with little flying bugs. Every flat display surface like the top of the wall cabinets was lined with empty liquor bottles of one kind of another. Our shoes stuck slightly to the floor when we walked through. We got the kitchen window boarded up.
It's a small living room, but it holds a Coca Cola vending machine, a full-sized slot machine and one of those electronic games you see in stores with the claw you can manipulate to pick up prizes in the base. The prizes in this one were soft dice like we used to hang from the rear view mirror. I counted at least three flatscreens on the floor and not plugged in. Speaking of which extension cords ran everywhere often plugged into splitters that led into a spider web of cords going elsewhere. We tried to get them all unplugged before we turn on the electricity and start a fire.
Speaking of that, the electricity has been turned off for several months for nonpayment. There are pieces and parts of various electronic components all over the place, plus three couches where people obviously crashed. And trash, piles of it everywhere. Found three pairs of various kinds of boots. There was very little visible floor.
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| Electronic pieces and parts and a child's book. |
Speaking of that, the electricity has been turned off for several months for nonpayment. There are pieces and parts of various electronic components all over the place, plus three couches where people obviously crashed. And trash, piles of it everywhere. Found three pairs of various kinds of boots. There was very little visible floor.
The outside yard is a story all its own. I could go on and on but the pictures pretty much tell the story. At present we are boarding it up but not cleaning too much. The tenant has two weeks to get everything out so we have to let that happen. At that point we might have lots of help.
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| Kind of makes you wonder who Teenah was. |
Toward the end of the evening as the crowd thinned out and we had finished measuring the windows for boards. A young girl from the neighborhood was talking with the owner. She looked maybe 14, only a couple of years younger than Kitty was when she ran away from that abusive father and fell into the life.
As she was about to leave, with all her innocent enthusiasm and desire to help, and standing in that disaster area she asked the owner, "are you going to need some help cleaning this up?" I laughed right out loud and then the owner joined in. For a moment the girl looked consternated wondering why we would laugh at her heart-felt offer and then she realized what she had said and had a good laugh with us.
Are we going to need some help cleaning all this up? Yes we are, sweetheart, yes we are.
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An afterthought: It turns out this isn't an isolated incident. As I have told other people about this, just about everyone at least knows someone who went through the same thing. I wrote not long ago about how in Alaska no matter what you do someone has done it better, gone farther or higher, did it faster and suffered more hardship than you have. The next day after the first entry, I ran into a guy whose father had encountered the same problem. Only that house was so bad the guy burned it down.
An online conversation with a young prostitute
AN UPDATE AFTER TWO WEEKS: We finally got in there to clean Aug. 3. We hauled out more than six bags of trash, a couple of heavy shelving units, some hazmat stuff (paint and cleaners) and about 40 pounds of spoiled, thawed salmon and you couldn't even see the difference. Then the owner called a pro. Estimate to clean up the damage done by tweakers to this house? $9,000. And that is only for hauling the junk away, not repairs or general cleaning or removing that truck. The guy estimated a crew of five or six people would need three or four days. He said his crew had cleaned dirtier places than this but never one with this much trash to haul away. Today I uncovered six like-new propane tanks. We also found evidence of a potential fraud, a death certificate and two birth certificates for the same person. Ain't life grand?
AND HERE IS WHAT IT DOES TO OTHERS: I asked the woman who owns the house if she minded if I wrote something about the estimate and cost of the cleanup. This is what she said:
AND HERE IS WHAT IT DOES TO OTHERS: I asked the woman who owns the house if she minded if I wrote something about the estimate and cost of the cleanup. This is what she said:
"Absolutely okay. Go for it! I am not embarrassed anymore. It is what it is, and while it is terrible, at least it is spectacularly terrible. I had nothing to do with it, so it's okay to celebrate the terrible-ness in a spectacular way.
"For a while, I could not talk about it because I was embarrassed and shocked and ashamed, but I have worked through it and have accepted that it's just another life experience.
"I can get angry. I can grieve. I can be embarrassed. However, those are not helpful, and whatever my attitude, the situation will stay the same. If I can find ways to keep an upbeat attitude (most of the time), then maybe I can simply face what needs to be done.
"I choose to try to find the least traumatic or depressing way to deal with it all, and that helps me take care of me."
Labels: drugs, evictions, house trashing, Kitty, meth, methamphetamine, renters
A regular old day on the roads of Alaska
Some people were injured in this crash so it may be too soon, but, people, where else but Alaska would two trucks, an SUV and a boat collide and close a two-lane road, the only one into the state's biggest city from the south, for hours? To top it off, it happened at a popular pull-off along the highway where a pipe sticks out of the mountainside delivering clear, cool mountain spring water for those who want to stop and collect it. (Alaska Dispatch News photo)
All that was missing was an airplane. Oh, wait, in Alaska the driver has to watch everywhere at once, even the sky. In another area of Anchorage, a float plane apparently missed a lake and hit a house, landing in a residential street. No one was hurt in that one. (KTUU photo)
And. it's only 4 p.m. on a sunny Sunday when lots of people are returning to town from a weekend or a day chasing fish or other Alaska adventures. Watch this space.
Overall it makes me glad I took the back trail with the four-wheeler taking trash to the transfer station rather than chancing roads with more traffic.
Airplane hits house
Two trucks, an SUV and a boat meet on a busy highway
Labels: airplane crashes, alaska, roads
Doing my part: Occupy !!!
October 20, 2011
The small print says "Alaska's Butte. Take it to another level"
Posted by Tim Jones No comments: 
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I love you, Padme
March 11, 2017
This will take a minute. My son was the right age when the second three Star Wars movies came out. We joked about which woman we liked. He liked Princess Amidala; I liked Padme, never mind that they were the same person.
Somewhere along the way he acquired some action figures and among them was the Padme character. I immediately confiscated it. Over the years she disappeared and reappeared and somehow ended up with me here at the East Pole, standing Titanic-like on the bow of a model tugboat I used to demonstrate tanker rescue maneuvers. They are on a shelf above my desk here.
Fast forward to tonight. When I first moved in to the cabin at the East Pole, I bought a bottle of scotch. Here I am thirty years later and I finally opened it. Listening to music and watching the sunset and moonrise change Denali, I chanced to turn and look out the window over the desk and there, silhouetted by the twilight sky stood Padme, defiant and proud on the bow of that little wooden tugboat. A striking figure at once symbolizing strength and an overwhelming allure. 
This will take a minute. My son was the right age when the second three Star Wars movies came out. We joked about which woman we liked. He liked Princess Amidala; I liked Padme, never mind that they were the same person. Somewhere along the way he acquired some action figures and among them was the Padme character. I immediately confiscated it. Over the years she disappeared and reappeared and somehow ended up with me here at the East Pole, standing Titanic-like on the bow of a model tugboat I used to demonstrate tanker rescue maneuvers. They are on a shelf above my desk here.
It took a moment to come back to reality, and I make no apologies.
Sent from my iPad
Don't you just hate it when somebody could have killed you?
National news has been so overwhelming the past couple of weeks it's been difficult to pick out a single subject to write about. Then the other day something happened that was more down to earth and personal, a minor observation at a gas station where one man's inconsideration and unsafe actions could have killed us all.
Working on boats I quickly learned the safety precautions necessary when fueling, having read about several and seen one boat blow up from lack of such care.
So, I followed a guy into a gas station the other day and where people are asked to pull ahead to the open pump, this guy stopped at the first one and I had to maneuver around him with a trailer to get to the one in front of him. That was the inconsiderate act.
But that was just impolite, the next two were far more dangerous. First, he put the nozzle into the filler pipe on his car, set the switch to full and walked away, went into the attached store for something leaving the pump unattended. This is the first safety no-no. Even with automatic shutoffs and splash guards, so much can go wrong no one should ever leave gas flowing without someone watching.
Then he came back from the store and without even looking at the operation opened the door and sat inside the car waiting for the pump to shut off. When it did, he got out of the car and pulled the nozzle out of the filler hole. Then he tapped the metal nozzle on the metal filler pipe several times to shake out any excess gasoline that might have spilled on his car. Does anyone know what can happen when you strike metal against metal?
If you can't guess, I will tell you: SPARKS! All it would have taken was one little spark caused by that tapping and the car and possibly the whole place could have gone up. In that situation there is also the danger of static electricity buildup creating the spark that leads to fire as in the attached video. It has happened before and probably will again.
Here's a Snopes review of static-caused gas-station fire dangerA downloadable PDF from Purdue University on safely refueling.
No comments: Links to this postWhy didn't I think of that
January 1, 2017
I came across that picture mucking around the other day in a storage space in the cabin. It's a
mock front page of the Anchorage Daily News the last night I worked there the first time around. It's a tradition in the news business that has now probably gone away under the weight of the internet.
It brought up a memory of a more recent encounter. A few years ago I went to a Christmas party put on by a friend in my most recent and last tour at good old ADN.
Over the course of the evening I was introduced to a guy about half my age who had recently left the paper for another job. When it came out that I was at that time editing the paper's web page he looked me over and then without the hint of humor, he said, "I would have been your boss."
I immediately had one of those introvert moments. How could somebody say that, and why? I just stared silently until I finally mumbled something about nothing and then someone interrupted and they went on to talking about something else while I wandered aimlessly looking for some place to get away by myself.
The next day, of course, the reponse came to me. How do you think this would have gone over?
Something like, "Really? Wow, and 30 years ago I would have been your boss. Oh wait, were you out of elementary school yet?' Only a day and then about five years too late.
I came across that picture mucking around the other day in a storage space in the cabin. It's a mock front page of the Anchorage Daily News the last night I worked there the first time around. It's a tradition in the news business that has now probably gone away under the weight of the internet.
It brought up a memory of a more recent encounter. A few years ago I went to a Christmas party put on by a friend in my most recent and last tour at good old ADN.
Over the course of the evening I was introduced to a guy about half my age who had recently left the paper for another job. When it came out that I was at that time editing the paper's web page he looked me over and then without the hint of humor, he said, "I would have been your boss."
I immediately had one of those introvert moments. How could somebody say that, and why? I just stared silently until I finally mumbled something about nothing and then someone interrupted and they went on to talking about something else while I wandered aimlessly looking for some place to get away by myself.
The next day, of course, the reponse came to me. How do you think this would have gone over?
Something like, "Really? Wow, and 30 years ago I would have been your boss. Oh wait, were you out of elementary school yet?' Only a day and then about five years too late.
I feel most fortunate
I realized a milestone the other night. I have reached the extent of my mid-life crisis. It came about this way. I was watching an episode of the old TV show Northern Exposure. Yes, that's right, I have the whole series on DVD and am slowly working through it. I liked it when it first came out and I like it now despite the "Alaska errors" and the outlandish supposedly Alaska plots. As a writer of fiction I can see many of the adventures in "Exposure" happening here with just a slight push from a writer's imagination.
In this episode Holling Vencoeur, owner of the Brick bar, learned of an uncle's death at the age of 110. Holling at 63 went into a mid-life crisis believing his life was half over given the longevity of the his male relatives.
How old was I when I thought my life was half over? Right, it was around 36 when I started looking at the life I was living and the life I wanted to be living.Thus began my adventure into the woods, onto the big ocean and through six books.
Holling dealt with his by rounding up every potato in Cicily and heading out to his still which had been owned by his father and his father before him. He began distilling vodka and if we are to believe this, it seemed like he drank most of what he made.
I went about it a different way. I knew I was going to build a cabin in the woods at some point. So I made a list of the tools I would need and every time I took home a paycheck I bought something off that list.
So between me and Holling, in my mind our mid-life crises were resolved. With that resolution, my mind jumped to the present, sitting here in the deep woods and contemplating life and then the realization, "holy crap," I am twice that old now. I've outlived my mid-life crisis, lived two halves of an average life and here I am. What am I supposed to do now?
For one thing, with only two days to go it looks like I will survive 2016. If anybody's been paying attention that's been no small feat at my age. So many great musicians died this year you would think someone was killing them off. Writers, actors, politicians, so many people we loved and then Princess Leia … and her mother.
The world seems emptier without them. And unfortunately it's not over. Most of the rock musicians I grew up with are in their 70s now so bracing for continued announcements.
So what is my good fortune? I lived through this horrible year. I am still standing or sitting anyway but at times now I feel like Slim Pickens riding that nuke earthward shouting Yahoo all to the tune of "I'll see you again, don't know where, don't know when."
And there is this: Keith Richards reportedly is still alive. So maybe it's all right to look forward to another ride around the sun with some measure of optimism based on having.survived the past year.
An addendum: Until I read the comment below, I hadn't considered the glass half-full/half-empty paradigm. I suppose as the years pass the glass grows larger and the volume of the halves changes as does the total for the whole glass. It's almost a catch 22, as you get closer to a full glass, the glass increases in size making it impossible ever to fill it. I guess we keep striving, despite the futility of it and that's all right particularly for anyone with a creative nature. The day you accept anything you've done you're finished anyway. There is a quote credited to the great impressionist Renoir on his death bed. At 94 when asked what he thought of his body of work, he said, "I begin to show promise." In other words his glass never filled to the brim, at least not to his satisfactison, despite his best efforts. And, look what he accomplished. What hope is there for the rest of us? Perhaps the answer lies in the very real threat at the end of the comment which should give us more reason than ever to strive on.
In this episode Holling Vencoeur, owner of the Brick bar, learned of an uncle's death at the age of 110. Holling at 63 went into a mid-life crisis believing his life was half over given the longevity of the his male relatives.
How old was I when I thought my life was half over? Right, it was around 36 when I started looking at the life I was living and the life I wanted to be living.Thus began my adventure into the woods, onto the big ocean and through six books.
Holling dealt with his by rounding up every potato in Cicily and heading out to his still which had been owned by his father and his father before him. He began distilling vodka and if we are to believe this, it seemed like he drank most of what he made.
I went about it a different way. I knew I was going to build a cabin in the woods at some point. So I made a list of the tools I would need and every time I took home a paycheck I bought something off that list.
So between me and Holling, in my mind our mid-life crises were resolved. With that resolution, my mind jumped to the present, sitting here in the deep woods and contemplating life and then the realization, "holy crap," I am twice that old now. I've outlived my mid-life crisis, lived two halves of an average life and here I am. What am I supposed to do now?
For one thing, with only two days to go it looks like I will survive 2016. If anybody's been paying attention that's been no small feat at my age. So many great musicians died this year you would think someone was killing them off. Writers, actors, politicians, so many people we loved and then Princess Leia … and her mother.
The world seems emptier without them. And unfortunately it's not over. Most of the rock musicians I grew up with are in their 70s now so bracing for continued announcements.
So what is my good fortune? I lived through this horrible year. I am still standing or sitting anyway but at times now I feel like Slim Pickens riding that nuke earthward shouting Yahoo all to the tune of "I'll see you again, don't know where, don't know when."
And there is this: Keith Richards reportedly is still alive. So maybe it's all right to look forward to another ride around the sun with some measure of optimism based on having.survived the past year.
An addendum: Until I read the comment below, I hadn't considered the glass half-full/half-empty paradigm. I suppose as the years pass the glass grows larger and the volume of the halves changes as does the total for the whole glass. It's almost a catch 22, as you get closer to a full glass, the glass increases in size making it impossible ever to fill it. I guess we keep striving, despite the futility of it and that's all right particularly for anyone with a creative nature. The day you accept anything you've done you're finished anyway. There is a quote credited to the great impressionist Renoir on his death bed. At 94 when asked what he thought of his body of work, he said, "I begin to show promise." In other words his glass never filled to the brim, at least not to his satisfactison, despite his best efforts. And, look what he accomplished. What hope is there for the rest of us? Perhaps the answer lies in the very real threat at the end of the comment which should give us more reason than ever to strive on.
Best year-end roundup of the year so far: 2016 edition
December 8, 2017
Beginning on a somber note
And then on to the best we were blessed with from news, sports and television writers and announcers this year.
This may not be the best roundup, but it's the first. Starting out with almost anything Donald Trump said, no need to list them all.
And then on to the best we were blessed with from news, sports and television writers and announcers this year.
This may not be the best roundup, but it's the first. Starting out with almost anything Donald Trump said, no need to list them all.
Worst analogy of the day so far: "Snow comes out of the sky like bleached flies."
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| Best photobomb of the year so far. |
Best headline of the day so far: China may be using sea to hide its submarines. (2/10/16)
My favorite comment on this subject so far: Justice Scalia died after a 30-year battle with social progress. 2/14/16)
Worst lead on a news story so far today: "NATIONAL HARBOR, Md. – The socially conservative doctor whose inspirational biography and deeply held faith galvanized the red blood of America this past fall officially announced that he is leaving the campaign trail Friday." Have to wonder who this writer is and how long he's been out of eloquent-journalism school. He's writing about Ben Carson for crying out loud. Yahoo News 3/4
Best headline of the day so far: "Mitch Landrieu demands oil industry restore damage to coast." (6/2)
Best headline of the day so far: Fitness Personality Hospitalized for 'Bizarre Conduct' (6/5)
Best headline of the day so far (from my friend Carrie Ann Nash): Drones Will Drop Vaccine-Covered M&Ms to Save Ferrets (7/14)
Best headline of the day so far: Homicide victims rarely talk to police 8/2
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| Dueling death notices from wife and girlfriend. |
Man’s wife, girlfriend place dueling obituaries in same newspaper 8/5
Best headline of the day so far: One-armed man applauds the kindness of strangers 8/4
Sex pigs halt traffic after laser attack on Pokémon teens
Best headline of the day so far: Church Mutual Insurance won't cover Church's flood damage because it's 'an act of God' 8/2
Favorite headline of the day so far: Latino group begins 'Guac The Vote' initiative to register voters at taco trucks 8/7
Best headline of the day so far: WSJ accuses Hillary Clinton of attending Bill Clinton's birthday party. 9/6
Errant Cannon Fire from Niagara Deflates World’s Largest Rubber Duck 9/8
Man shot dead on Syracuse Street for 2nd time in 2 days 9/13
Best headline of the day so far: Ted Nugent Calls For Native Americans to ‘Go Back Where They Came From 9/15
Best headline of the day so far: Memo warning ministers not to leak memos is leaked
Best tweet of the day so far: (This was in response to someone complaining the Mars rover's tweets were getting boring.)
SarcasticRover @SarcasticRover 18m18 minutes ago
Seriously, after four years on Mars you’re lucky I’m not just tweeting 140 character screams at you all day long. 11/17
Best headline of the day so far: "Apple's new macs come with missing keys" OK, how can you arrive with something that's not there? 10/28
Best tweet of the day so far; love the Bronx Zoo Cobra
Bronx Zoo's Cobra @BronxZoosCobra 2h2 hours ago
Twitter just "happens" to go down on #ReptileAwarenessDay?! Looks like the multinational corporations of Big Mammal are at it again. 10/21
There are a lot of them today but for me, this is the best Trump quote of the day so far: “Every time I said something, she would say something back,” he said. “It was rigged. She kept on bringing up things I said or did,” Trump added. “She is a very nasty person.” 9/27
Best headline of the day so far: "Surfing on a turtle’s tail makes swinging crabs monogamous." 9/23
And from the sports world:
I think they're drinking on the sports copy desk again: "UAA men's basketball dispatches Concordia 93-67 in men's basketball" Headline on ADN website 2/19
Best sportscaster comment of the day so far: "He's got to have the lead if he's going to win this race." 2/21
Best sports comment of the day so far: "Kansas has always had the ability to score with the basketball." Um, otherwise what are they there for? 2/26
Best headline of the day so far: "NFL to put computer chips in balls." Oh, that's gotta hurt. 7/27
Best sports announcer quote of the day: Now that you're in the finals you have to run the race that's going to get you on the podium
Best sportscaster quote of the day so far: "It's very important for both sides that they stay on their feet." 11/21
This is why you get to hate sportscasters. Kansas beats Texas for the first time since 1938. So the pundits open their segment with the question "let's talk about what went wrong." Wrong? Kansas WON a football game! That's what went RIGHT! 11/19
Best sports announcer quote of the day so far (Jan. 9): "I brought out the thermostat to show you how cold it is here." Points to a thermometer reading zero in Minneapolis.
Sportscasters are really at it today. Best comment so far: "It's tough to win on the road when you turn the ball over." Oh, really? Like you can do all right if you turn the ball over playing at home? 10/29
Cliches so imbedded in sportscasters' minds they can't help themselves: "Minnesota fell from the ranks of the undefeated today." What ranks? They were the only undefeated team. 10/23
Best sportscaster quote of the day (seriously, never heard this one before). A 5'10" player went up and caught a pass off a defensive back over six feet tall. The quote? "He's got some hops."
Best homonym of the day so far: It's all tied. Alabama 34, Kentucky 3. Oh, Tide. 10/1
Best headline of the day so far: "Steve Hooker commentates on his Olympic Pole Vault gold medal." When "comments" just won't do.9/27
Best sports announcer quote of the day so far: This is kind of picking on amateurs, but who could let it pass? Iditarod. "He's certainly capable of the top ten, maybe even higher than that." 11? 3/6
Best sports announcer quote of the day so far: "Atlanta is capable of doing what they're doing." 5/6
Best quote from a sports announcer today so far: "Biyombo, one of seven kids from the Republic of Congo." In the NBA? In America? In his whole country? Oh, his family. 5/15
And again: Best quote from a sports announcer today so far: "Biyombo, one of seven kids from the Republic of Congo." In the NBA? In America? In his whole country? Oh, his family. (5/17) Said it again (5/23)
Best sports announcer quote of the day so far: "You can't come out and be aggressive but you can't come out and be unaggressive." (5/30)
Baseball over the years in Valdez, Alaska
University of Alaska Fairbanks 1909 baseball game in Valdez, Alaska. '"Fort Liscum vs. Valdez, June 22, 1909." Photo by Phinney. S. Hunt. From the Mary Whalen Photograph Collection in the University of Alaska Fairbanks Rasmuson Library Alaska & Polar Regions Collection (UAF-1975-84-533).
November 3, 2016
The photo at top was posted by a friend on facebook today and it triggered a memory. I think Valdez Little League is still playing on the same field.
That's my son in the second picture playing second base for the Valdez Senior team in 2003.
Sure enough it looks like the games were played on the same field and the photos taken from the same position. A good look at the mountain in the two pictures makes it pretty clear that it is the same mountain. Note the ridgeline coming down from the center of the mountain and angling off to the left toward the bottom. And, in the upper right edge of the mountain, that seems to be the same curve of the slope.
A lot has changed over the years. Mostly that the field was almost in town in 1909, but the earthquake in 1964 took care of that. The field apparently didn't move, but the town did, a few miles to the west where it now stands on more solid ground. All those houses beyond the outfield fence are new since the earthquake.
Hey Lowe's … R E S P E C T
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| Donovan and Max at Lowe's in Anchorage. |
October 28, 2016
About a year ago a story made its way around Facebook about a Lowe's store in Canada that hired an employee who needed a service dog. That story could have gone a lot of different ways but what Lowe's management did was hire the dog too. They even had his own jacket made with the company logo and colors and the words "service dog" stitched onto it. I thought that was pretty cool, something a Canadian would do.
Well, guess what. We have another pair right here in Alaska. Meet Donovan and his dog Max. They work at the Lowe's at Tikahtnu Center in Anchorage.
They were kind enough to pose for a picture. I didn't want to intrude so much as to ask why Donovan needs a service dog or what he does at Lowe's or any other details about their lives. Cool enough that Lowe's accommodated Max and provided him with his own company jacket. Enlightened.
Some funky stuff that could have been on your Facebook feed
September 20, 2016
Snopes confirms it
Menominee Indians deliver firewood to the encampment at Standing Rock.
Does this photo really need a caption?
No comments: Links to this post
Snopes confirms it
Menominee Indians deliver firewood to the encampment at Standing Rock.
George H.W. Bush to vote for Hillary https://t.co/kDleecwLTc 🤗😄— Cyndy Earnshaw (@eagletakSeptember 20, 2016
No comments:
Links to this postOn Social Security and other stuff that might clutter your facebook page
September 19, 2016
I have paid into Social Security since 1959 and in my first job at the age of 16 in a Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, restaurant kitchen. Today it is my major source of income. To see these attacks of the program sometimes calling those of us who depend on it freeloaders is pretty scary. One result that seems to go unnoticed is that my payment has been slowly eroded over the past few years. Understand that Medicare is part of the program, but we pay for that. For several years now there has been no cost-of living increase in benefits while at the same time the cost for Medicare has creeped upward, not to mention increases in any supplemental health insurance we may carry. So what I have realized is a reduction in spendable income. Coupled with that is a cost-of-living calculation that discriminates against older people. A lot of weight in figuring the cost of living is based on the price of gasoline. That sounds OK until you understand that in my last job I commuted 80 miles a day. Now in my retirement I don't drive that much in a week. So, my cost of living is not affected much by gas price, yet as prices have dropped so has the cost-of-living allowance and that pretty much wipes out any increase that otherwise might apply. On top of that, the federal government lets us pay income tax on the payments we receive, probably at a higher rate than most one percenters. So, first of all it is not a free ride, AND it is slowly being whittled away from us.
Just for some perspective.
I didn't realize how big those sunflowers grew until my friend Gail stood next to them. Her feet are just about at the base of the roots.
Author W.P. Kinsella who wrote "Shoeless Joe," the book behind the movie "Field of Dreams" dies in Canada the age of 81. Kevin Costner made two of the best baseball movies ever. This one and Bull Durham, both standing the test of time as well.
It's all right to be an introvert as long as you keep it to yourself
There's a full playlist here.
Another hot mess avoided; lots of Alaska stuff
September 17, 2016
Ruptured Pipeline Spills Oil Into Yellowstone River
The Anchorage Police Department has a sense of humor. Who knew? The bear eventually wandered into a cemetery and climbed a tree. There it was tranquilized and transported out of town.
In the realm of watching paint dry, this is me this afternoon. Watching my heart rate drop on my Apple Watch after some strenuous exercise. 107 at the peak. 65 an hour later. I think that's healthy.
More in the continuing effort to keep my friends' Facebook pages neat
September 16, 2016
People complain about having their grammar corrected but did anyone suspect good grammar could save lives. The sign in this photo posted by Kitty Delory Fleischman certainly could use a comma or a period.
Best headline of the day so far: Ted Nugent Calls For Native Americans to ‘Go Back Where They Came From’
Another list of authors I didn't make:
Best headline of the day so far: Ted Nugent Calls For Native Americans to ‘Go Back Where They Came From’
Another list of authors I didn't make:
Forest Service workers killed a charging bear near site of earlier Sitka attack adn.com/alaska-news/wi…
Mural Featuring Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as Renaissance Painters They Were Named After laughingsquid.com/mural-featurin…
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| Google street view blurred a cow's face. |
Another day, so much less clutter
September 13, 2016
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| Eagles gather on the Eagle in Dutch Harbor Alaska. Photo Max Viau |
Deplorable
Michael Gungor
If you supply a lynch mob with a rope, you are complicit in the lynching. If you support a racist with a vote, you are complicit in racism.
Ringo Starr's SON is 51 years old
.@NOAA works to address noise in the ocean, announces #OceanNoiseStrategy. Learn more here: https://t.co/seoSiJtFkJ pic.twitter.com/G0eCmtX8rg— NOAA Fisheries (@NOAAFisheries) September 13, 2016
Labels: bears, Beatles, birds, eagles, Hillary Clinton, marine mammals, oceans, politics, weather
Here's some stuff I could have cluttered your facebook with
You had one job! Tenth Avenue, Anchorage Alaska. Laugh when you see it. There's some discussion that this was done on purpose to encourage back-in parking.
There is a Lakota prophesy that tells of a black snake that will create destruction as it moves across the land
Today I have seen people speculate about HillaryClinton's health, intimate that she can't do the job because of her health, analyze blurry pictures trying to point out her weakness. What I haven't seen is a single person expressing concern for her health. Is this who we want to be?
Sense of humor time: Ok by reading the above you understand I was appalled by the focus on Clinton's frailty and its effect on politics, but on the other hand, this meme is pretty funny. Diagnosis: pneumonia. Result: taking a sick day from work. Oh horrorshow! Remember Trump ducked military duty with a sore foot, and that was at the peak of his health.
AND FINALLY:
There is a Lakota prophesy that tells of a black snake that will create destruction as it moves across the land
Sense of humor time: Ok by reading the above you understand I was appalled by the focus on Clinton's frailty and its effect on politics, but on the other hand, this meme is pretty funny. Diagnosis: pneumonia. Result: taking a sick day from work. Oh horrorshow! Remember Trump ducked military duty with a sore foot, and that was at the peak of his health.
AND FINALLY:
When Alaska surprises you with 80-degree weather
Septemer 10, 2016
I came across something other Alaskans might appreciate especially with global warming and all. Last June I spent some time at the East Pole in temperatures around 80 degrees F. At the time I discovered I didn't have a shirt out there that wasn't flannel or wool, no sun block either, and I suffered accordingly.
When I came back I went about taking care of that and ordered a couple of lightweight pullovers and a shirt LLBean called sunsmart. I liked the shirt and on a whim one night (late night, glass of wine, credit card sort of thing) I ordered another one.
This time I read the label. What it says is this shirt has a UBF rating of 50 plus. In addition, it's cool, moisture-wicking, breathable and quick drying. You can also roll it up and stick it in a backpack and it takes up very little space and weighs almost nothing.
I haven't put them to a real test yet but so far loving them. I don't often recommend a product but I think this one's a winner. (And, no, I am not being paid to do this.)
A few things I learned in the past couple of days
Another one of those nickel quizzes
When I came back I went about taking care of that and ordered a couple of lightweight pullovers and a shirt LLBean called sunsmart. I liked the shirt and on a whim one night (late night, glass of wine, credit card sort of thing) I ordered another one.
This time I read the label. What it says is this shirt has a UBF rating of 50 plus. In addition, it's cool, moisture-wicking, breathable and quick drying. You can also roll it up and stick it in a backpack and it takes up very little space and weighs almost nothing.
I haven't put them to a real test yet but so far loving them. I don't often recommend a product but I think this one's a winner. (And, no, I am not being paid to do this.)
A few things I learned in the past couple of days
Another one of those nickel quizzes
If only I were posting on facebook today …
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| gCaptain photo |
Posted only because I like this picture and you were looking just a little too comfortable over there in your easy chair while thousands of people are out on the big oceans worldwide and somewhere some of those souls are getting the crap beat out of them right now. Note the water on the foredeck and pouring out of the scuppers,
Links to this post
September 3, 2016
Joint Statement from the Department of Justice, the Department of the Army and the Department of the Interior Regarding Standing Rock Sioux Tribe v. U.S. Army Corps of Engineers
On of those things you never knew you wanted to knowAnd another one
New paving mixture may help save lives, according to @AlaskaDOTPF: https://t.co/9hRtrgjEVK pic.twitter.com/JeCgHnLOq4— KTVA 11 News (@ktva) September 8, 2016
No comments:You live in an age where you can say, “Hey, let’s send a robot to go get a piece of that asteroid in fricking space!”— SarcasticRover (@SarcasticRover) September 9, 2016
AND THEN IT HAPPENS!
Links to this postA collection of stuff I might have posted on facebook over Labor Day
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It's been sunny all day and then you see this. What
does it mean? Sure sign of changing weather. Rain
started about 6 hours later. (My Photo)
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Made a quick trip to the East Pole over the weekend and had way more fun than I intended. I mean a trail more mud and standing water than hard ground and THEN it rained, A light but steady rain overnight Saturday into Sunday made sticking around less interesting, so I beat a hasty retreat out of there. Hotfoots: 2 on the way in and 1 on the way out, over the top of standard-sized XTRATuffs. $10 at the car wash to get mud off the four-wheeler,
In the immortal words of Old Lodgeskins (see the movie Little Big Man) some days the medicine doesn't work.
Watch a grizzly chase a moose all around the pond.
In the immortal words of Old Lodgeskins (see the movie Little Big Man) some days the medicine doesn't work.
Watch a grizzly chase a moose all around the pond.
— Shannyn Moore (@shannynmoore) September 6, 2016
That should get rid of a bunch of obnoxious ads on TV.ITT Tech announces it is closing all of its campuses following federal sanctions against company - Gizmodo https://t.co/HY7djlMGDT— Breaking News (@BreakingNews) September 6, 2016
Winter birds, wettest month, empty SCOTUS seat, god's wrath
September 1, 1016
You know winter's coming when the Alaska Songbird Institute puts out its graphic of common winter birds we'll be seeing at feeders soon enough. In past years all of these have been common visitors to feeders around here.
This one reminds me of an old joke in which a man is suffering incredible hardships and in frustration thrusts his arms skyward asking "Why me, God?" And from the heavens comes a thundering voice saying, "Because you piss me off."
The little sunflower that could
August 31, 2016
I discovered this little guy a few weeks ago growing among the tentacles of the Godzilla geranium.
According to Dee Brown in his book "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee," when the Native Americans of the northern Great Plains first encountered white men they used to word "wasichu" to describe them. This at the time became the literal translation. However years later when the first Lakota saw the Atlantic Ocean they used the same word, "wasichu." At that time it became clear that the word did not mean white men, it meant something without end, something ongoing.
Now Native Americans are protesting a pipeline planned to go through their reservation. Mind you these are people attempting to protect their own land and peacefully at that. Will we never stop killing, stealing land, breaking treaties with the people whose land this was before we got here? Is that part of "wasichu" as well? Somewhere this has to stop. (Note: an earlier version of this post reported the governor of North Dakota had give a shoot-to-kill order. That is not true.
September 1 and not a hint of termination dust on the mountains. We often see it as early as mid August.
People lined up overnight waiting for the first Krispe Kreme in Alaska to open. Are you kidding? No. Alaska Dispatch News photo and story.
John Dingell, in under 140 characters, says what all thinking Americans are feeling today:
John Dingell
My most sincere thoughts, prayers, and apologies to the people of Mexico today.
Why would anybody start a month's jury duty on Friday before a three-day weekend?
Labels: Alaska garden, Alaska weather, Donald Trump, iPhone, Krispy Kreme, Native American,pipelines protest, sunflowers, Termination dust
Another one of those "never-do" things
October 21, 2011
NEVER get behind a cat lady in the checkout line. Holy mackerel! 120 individual cans plus several large litter boxes. PLUS coupons for every single one of them.
On the positive side: Read the whole front page of every single tabloid in the rack. Or is that a minus?
On the positive side: Read the whole front page of every single tabloid in the rack. Or is that a minus?
Weather thwarts Knik River Valley invaders
October 26, 2011
Two nights ago a new critter popped out of the brush onto the road. Pretty sure it was a mink: the right dark color, too small to be a wolverine or an otter and too big for a weasel and too dark to be a martin. It ran with that hunch and stretch motion weasels have, so that's my guess anyway.
If omens are to be believed, there is now some indication the mink may have been one. The next day heading for work, I noticed the parking lot at Del Roi's tavern was packed full of matching Winnebagos. It seemed awfully late in the season for a tourist caravan, but what it could have been puzzled me until the next day. Again they filled the parking lot, but farther on there was a lot of activity on the wide gravel beach at the Knik River that included several large trucks, a pagoda type tent and lots of people milling about.
The movie! There has been a crew in Anchorage for the past several weeks filming a movie about a serial killer who operated in the 1980s and who actually released his victims in this general area and then hunted them. Nicolas Cage and John Cusack are in it and have been spotted around Anchorage.
Nature was not cooperating. Blasts of wind gusted down the valley from the glacier, actually stirring up whitecaps on the river and sending clouds of glacial silt over the camp and the road. Welcome to Alaska, I thought as I made my way across the bridge.
Coming home that night it had built into a whole lot worse storm. Along the blue highway wind rocked the car. At the sharp curve that turns on the bridge at the south end, wind tends to be strongest and dust and silt blown up from the river bed sometimes builds up across the road creating a slippery surface right on the sharpest curve along the whole road. It can also create a washboard effect that can easily send a car flying. This night I hit that curve wrong, just as a gust blew up a dust cloud so thick I actually had to stop because I couldn't even see the guardrail right next to the car. I could hear bits of beach dust hitting the car. It let down and I went across the bridge to see lights on at the movie camp and guys working tying their tent to pickup trucks so as not to lose it to the wind. Welcome to Alaska again, I thought.
The next day still blowing like snot, two helicopters had joined the equipment at the camp on the river. but there didn't look like any work was under way.
That night going home, I noticed the camp had disappeared and the parking lot at Del-Roi's only held a few local vehicles, no rolling campers or equipment trucks.
If omens are to be believed, there is now some indication the mink may have been one. The next day heading for work, I noticed the parking lot at Del Roi's tavern was packed full of matching Winnebagos. It seemed awfully late in the season for a tourist caravan, but what it could have been puzzled me until the next day. Again they filled the parking lot, but farther on there was a lot of activity on the wide gravel beach at the Knik River that included several large trucks, a pagoda type tent and lots of people milling about.
The movie! There has been a crew in Anchorage for the past several weeks filming a movie about a serial killer who operated in the 1980s and who actually released his victims in this general area and then hunted them. Nicolas Cage and John Cusack are in it and have been spotted around Anchorage.
Nature was not cooperating. Blasts of wind gusted down the valley from the glacier, actually stirring up whitecaps on the river and sending clouds of glacial silt over the camp and the road. Welcome to Alaska, I thought as I made my way across the bridge.
Coming home that night it had built into a whole lot worse storm. Along the blue highway wind rocked the car. At the sharp curve that turns on the bridge at the south end, wind tends to be strongest and dust and silt blown up from the river bed sometimes builds up across the road creating a slippery surface right on the sharpest curve along the whole road. It can also create a washboard effect that can easily send a car flying. This night I hit that curve wrong, just as a gust blew up a dust cloud so thick I actually had to stop because I couldn't even see the guardrail right next to the car. I could hear bits of beach dust hitting the car. It let down and I went across the bridge to see lights on at the movie camp and guys working tying their tent to pickup trucks so as not to lose it to the wind. Welcome to Alaska again, I thought.
The next day still blowing like snot, two helicopters had joined the equipment at the camp on the river. but there didn't look like any work was under way.
That night going home, I noticed the camp had disappeared and the parking lot at Del-Roi's only held a few local vehicles, no rolling campers or equipment trucks.
It all tells me to pay attention when another mink hops out onto the road.
'Frozen Ground' the Sequel: The Knik raiders left their mark
October 27, 2011
Having spent the better part of August 2010 sailing around in the North Pacific Ocean with a group of people trying to get a handle on the amount and possible cleanup of all the plastic trapped in a gyre out there, I've become a lot more sensitive to the amount of plastic I and everyone else use and thought a bit about the supply chain. Where does all that plastic come from and how does it get into the ocean? Granted most of what we saw could have come off boats, but it originated on land one way or another.
How some of it gets there became crystal clear during the drive to work yesterday. At the Kink River I glanced over and noticed the movie people were gone and wrote about that, but another thing I saw was a big wad of Visqueen blown into a tangle of brush on the beach. (For non Alaskans, Visqueen is plastic sheeting and we use the term generically) The plastic in the brush bothered me on the drive and I convinced myself to go over there and clean up what I could. It also led to thoughts about its location. That Visqueen was about a hundred yards or less from the Knik River. At this point it's probably less than two miles to Knik Arm, Knik Arm empties into Cook Inlet which in turn connects to the Gulf of Alaska and the North Pacific Ocean. It doesn't take too much imagination to figure out that this Visqueen which incidentally is in a high wind area could easily end up in the river and the ocean. All so people could watch a movie about an Alaska serial killer and because a few people with the crew couldn't take the time to clean up after themselves. To be fair it's possible some of this trash was left by others before the movie people arrived, but I am sure the Visqueen wasn't there and (ugh) I opened one bag and the garbage smelled fairly fresh. I suppose I could have poked around and looked for discarded paperwork to confirm it, but then, you only get so much from volunteers.
There's a bit of an added problem boat people will appreciate, at least any of us who have tangled Visqueen in a propeller. Awful stuff and if the shaft or outdrive overheats, that crap melts to the metal and is almost possible to remove. It could get worse than that if it gets sucked into a cutlass bearing.
The trash is in a good place now and just to balance the bad with the good, when I told the nice woman at the landfill where it all came from she only charged me two dollars instead of the usual six.
THE PHOTOS: The one with the black bags is the total pile collected. The one with the smaller Visqueen is to show the proximity to the Knik River and the large piece is self explanatory.
For images from the North Pacific trip click on the Sailing with Chip gallery in the right-hand column. There are photos of some of the trash we collected out there.
How some of it gets there became crystal clear during the drive to work yesterday. At the Kink River I glanced over and noticed the movie people were gone and wrote about that, but another thing I saw was a big wad of Visqueen blown into a tangle of brush on the beach. (For non Alaskans, Visqueen is plastic sheeting and we use the term generically) The plastic in the brush bothered me on the drive and I convinced myself to go over there and clean up what I could. It also led to thoughts about its location. That Visqueen was about a hundred yards or less from the Knik River. At this point it's probably less than two miles to Knik Arm, Knik Arm empties into Cook Inlet which in turn connects to the Gulf of Alaska and the North Pacific Ocean. It doesn't take too much imagination to figure out that this Visqueen which incidentally is in a high wind area could easily end up in the river and the ocean. All so people could watch a movie about an Alaska serial killer and because a few people with the crew couldn't take the time to clean up after themselves. To be fair it's possible some of this trash was left by others before the movie people arrived, but I am sure the Visqueen wasn't there and (ugh) I opened one bag and the garbage smelled fairly fresh. I suppose I could have poked around and looked for discarded paperwork to confirm it, but then, you only get so much from volunteers.
There's a bit of an added problem boat people will appreciate, at least any of us who have tangled Visqueen in a propeller. Awful stuff and if the shaft or outdrive overheats, that crap melts to the metal and is almost possible to remove. It could get worse than that if it gets sucked into a cutlass bearing.
The trash is in a good place now and just to balance the bad with the good, when I told the nice woman at the landfill where it all came from she only charged me two dollars instead of the usual six.
THE PHOTOS: The one with the black bags is the total pile collected. The one with the smaller Visqueen is to show the proximity to the Knik River and the large piece is self explanatory.
For images from the North Pacific trip click on the Sailing with Chip gallery in the right-hand column. There are photos of some of the trash we collected out there.
Murder most fowl
October 30, 2011
I witnessed a murder today, personified by dark sinister beings challenging any who would cross the bridge, with more gathered on the beaches below on both sides of the river, more yet along the water's edge to the west. Easily visible against the background of new fallen snow. Black and white, evil and good, the eternal struggle.
They gathered in a place where the movie was being shot just a few days before, a movie based in the evil that stalked this place a quarter century before, an evil that left its victims in unmarked graves, many of them never found.
Was the murder recent, of course it was, but was it also founded in that time and now its victims rise on All Hallow's Eve to torment those who paid little attention to their fate because they were considered less than worthy of a proper investigation by authorities.
Like a lawman facing unbelievable odds, the eagle stared from his perch in the old cottonwood at the gang gathered below perhaps wondering too, what evil brought this murder out on this particular day. Maybe with his vision he can see the spirits of those long-dead souls drifting through the forests seeking salvation or retribution, or both.
And this is the mystery, my friends and the new challenge. Can anyone define this murder? Muwaaaa haaaaa haaaaa!
2010
Boogie nights and layoff days
January 20, 2010
This has been a week. Started and ended on a positive note but, oh, that middle ground. Every time I see that ad on TV "help, I've fallen and I can't get up" it occurs to me that I live alone in a fairly isolated area, seldom see or talk to other people -- most days the only people I talk to outside of work are the kids at the Subway where I buy my lunch sandwich -- and could easily not be missed by anyone for weeks if something happened. Now, one day this week I ran into one delay after another on the way to work which made me half an hour late. Mind you, in almost five years there, I have never missed a day, nor have I been late more than once or twice and that only by a minute or two. With all that in mind, that delay day as I was finally pulling into the parking lot my phone rang. It was the supervisor asking if I was all right. It turned out he and another fellow I work with had wondered why I was late, and discussed the fact I am never late and actually started to worry a bit. I found it reassuring that people notice things like that and were concerned enough to call.
Well, that was the good part of work. On the day after the Haiti disaster occurred, the company announced a new round of layoffs, the third in little more than a year. This time the cuts went deep. I watched a woman leave who has worked there for 32 years and there were rumors of others with that sort of longevity getting cut as well. This is a recurring action in the newspaper business and particularly at McClatchy which made some financial mistakes that are now haunting the company. I survived this cut and the others, mostly I think because I took the offer a couple of years ago to work on the Web site rather than the paper, although I still edit several stories a night for the paper in addition to my internet duties. But it has reached the point where I think we all begin to feel guilt as we watch colleagues leave the office while we sit quietly in our seats glad it didn't happen to us, but feeling so much for the departed and not really knowing what to say. There were tears this time and I have never seen that happen in previous layoffs. This one hit me harder than the others, I guess because now I don't see the possibility for improvement. I have a feeling we are now clinging to a sinking ship and it is only a matter of time before it turns bow up and slips below the surface.
So, ups and downs and overs and outs. Today my son turned 20. He is no longer the kid or the teenager who lights my life so much. Now he is officially in his 20s and a man I love. And though I have known it for a while, today my daughter announced her engagement publicly. Maybe these are signs I need to grow up, too. But I really don't want to. I am glad to see them progress and I cheer for them but still out there is drugs, sex, and rock and roll, boogie till you puke, and ohhhhh baby. I am not trying to deny age. I am quite comfortable with my age, I am just not ready to act it. So, today, I am playing with a new machine. It converts audio tapes to MP3 and I have 30 years of music with the attached memories to keep me going for a long time. And, it helps for a while to sublimate what is happening to my colleagues at work. Plus it is a party day for my son and the announcement of a party for my daughter and her fiance, so let's get down and boogie.
Labels: Alaska life, daughter, family, living alone, son
Oil spills and deja vu
April 29, 2010
Watching this oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico has been so frustrating. It is like was nothing learned from Exxon Valdez? For years after the Exxon spill people in the area of potential oil spills have been warned that it could happen there as well, but to no avail. I used to tell people from the East Coast just for perspective that if Exxon had happened on that coast and traveled as far as Exxon oil, it would have stretched from Cape Cod to Cape Hatteras, This new spill has all the potential to be so much bigger than that.
One thing that comes up with people unfamiliar with oil spills and their effects is a tendency to believe industry estimates of the amount spilled. A rule of thumb with industry estimates is that oil spills never get smaller. Case in point, BP estimated the flow from this spill at 1,000 gallons per day. Then the Coast Guard spoke up and said it was bigger than that, as much as five times more than the estimate. BP argued but today admitted the release is more like 210,000 gallons per day. A million gallons every five days.
There appear to have been no preparations for a spill this size despite the exposure in the Gulf of Mexico. I see pictures of what look like local fishermen loading boom onto their boats. They are not wearing safety gear that is mandatory in Prince William Sound responses. I see futility. MSN.com has a photo today oil everywhere and in the center is a small boat or two towing a collection boom — oil in the boom, oil behind the boom, oil on both sides of the boom and oil out in front of the boom. How much oil can this one little boom collect? And more, what will they do with it? There don’t appear to be any collection barges anywhere. I have seen video of one skimmer. It was a Transrec capable of collecting 2,100 barrels of liquid per hour. I say liquid because more than half of that liquid is going to be water.
Yesterday there was mention of a test burn. No mention of burning today. They may have tried but no word yet if they did or if they did, if they succeeded. I have participated in training and exercises involving burning and it is not as easy as it sounds. For one thing they apparently were trying to burn emulsified oil, meaning mixed with water and thickened. This is almost impossible to burn. Also they attempted, at least in the test burn to start the fire with flares. Doubtful this would work. (Try throwing a lighted match into a small pool of gasoline sometime — it goes out, and gasoline has a much lower flash point than crude oil). In Alaska , they use what is called a helitorch. It is an apparatus dangled from a helicopter and simply stated it drops blobs of flaming gelled gasoline (napalm). The blobs say burning long enough to start the real fire. And, it is not the oil itself that burns. It is the vapors just above the oil. As the oil weathers, that evaporation becomes less and less as the lighter ends are dissipated. That makes it all the more difficult to burn. The worst part is this: In a test burn done here burning emulsified oil, it was found that 3 percent of the oil by weight sinks to the bottom in the consistency of peanut brittle. Think of the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, where all those bottom-dwelling shrimp come from, coated with black oily peanut brittle.
Ok, probably enough said about all this, just needed to get it off my mind. Bottom line is there is a huge spill, minimal equipment to deal with it and it is going to keep going for a while. Same thing was said when Exxon Valdez started.
A couple of big questions: Every one of these offshore wells has on it what is called a blowout preventer. It sits on the ocean floor and the well pipe rises through it. When there is back pressure, it is supposed to fire off and close the well. Finally about four or five days into this spill it was admitted the preventer didn’t work. Why? And if this didn’t work, do we have any guarantee the preventers on all the other wells WILL work?
And the other is broad. Industry assures us all time after time that spills and accidents can’t happen, and then tells us if they do happen they have the equipment and manpower to deal with it. They are making these assurances now as they prepare to drill offshore in the Arctic. Do we really want to believe them? If you think the answer is yes, take a look at the history of Exxon Valdez, the blowout off Australia in the Timor Sea last year and this one as it unfolds.
Hygienic? Really? I'll give you hygienic
June 8, 2010
I've complained about advertising before, but this is new so read on .... (and yes, still grooving but will not call anyone li'l monster). From the day the first innkeeper or cobbler hung out a sign letting people know what his service or product was, that bunch of scoundrels drawn to advertising has looked for new and better ways to make us want, need, have to have the products they hawk. Some efforts have been cute, some insulting, some infuriating... well, that's the picture, pick an emotion and reaction and you can find an advertisement that fits it.
The ones that are bothering me these days are the ones that are meant to instill fear or apprehension because you don't have a product or service. Am I going to die if my credit score is 639 instead of 640? Is it worth $15 a month to find out what it is? Hardly. The diseases invented in order to make you worry and buy some drug you probably don't need are another in this genre. Restless leg syndrome? Please. Some drug or advertising guy trying to fall asleep and feeling a tremor in his leg thinking hey I bet we can convince somebody this is really a disease and they need a drug we can sell them. There are so many of these. But, now, here's the lead in to the one most offensive these days.
When swine flu broke out with the subsequent prevention advisory that came down, soap manufacturers were all over it. Pretty soon brand new hand sanitizing products sprouted everywhere (the one by the coffee machine at work) and we were advised to constantly be on the alert and clean our hands. I wonder how much more of that product sold since swine flu compared with before. But recently there has been a one-up product. Some creative mind decided hand (and counter and other surfaces) cleaners weren't enough. Now somebody has come up with a cleaner, backed by a fear concept, for the little hand pump on the hand sanitizer bottles. Do you know how many germs can linger on that little thumb friendly pump? Gooooood Greeeeeef.
In other words we are now supposed to wash our hands in order to wash our hands and use a cleanser with a thumb-operated plunger to clean the thumb-operated plunger on the bottle we use to wash our hands before we use the bottle we use to wash our hands. And we are supposed to worry about that. I bet I could lick that plunger for a week and not get sick.
And, what about the germs on the bottle of stuff you use to clean the bottle of hand sanitizer? It is almost a chicken and egg sort of situation. Carried out to its logical conclusion, at some point in the process you have to touch a plunger that hasn't been cleaned by a preceding product.
But think of all the sales for all those cleansers. Remember the most important sales innovation in shampoo? The one that doubled sales? "Rinse and repeat." Well, "clean the bottle you use to clean your hands" might be right up there with it. And all of it is based on a panicked fear of a swine flu pandemic that barely materialized. That's not to say health warnings shouldn't be listened to, but more to be aware how the advertising industry will jump on them and use any angle they can think of to scare us into buying their products.
I have to go now and clean a bottle of hand sanitizer so I can wash my hands to use my hand sanitizer before I step into the shower (washed down with a pre-cleaned dispenser of Lysol) so I can wash what's left of my hair, then rinse and repeat.
All this cleanser talk reminds me of a passage in John Steinbeck's "Travels with Charlie." In a motel in New Mexico or Arizona he focused on that little paper banner proclaiming this toilet seat had been sanitized. In that moment he recalled a time in the Sahara desert when a nomad offered him a grime-encrusted glass so he could take a drink from an oasis. He said as dirty as that glass was, it produced the finest drink of water in his entire recollection, and then he went on into Americans' preoccupied compulsion about hygiene. But, that leads us into a new direction, so enough for today.
Grass banks, wetlands and the Delta Blues
June 12, 2010
During the early days of Exxon Valdez as we watched Exxon bumble about trying to mount a response, I often thought what they needed to do was get a few skookum Alaska fishermen together, let them look at the problem, scratch their heads a little and then come up with a plan to attack the problem with the same natural savvy they use when faced with difficulty on the grounds far from where you can call for help. It is the kind of mindset I used to argue with first aid instructors about. What do they tell you to do first? Call 911. Many of the places we go there is no 911, teach me how to deal with it with what I have. Some creative ideas were developed, employ the fish pumps generally used for sucking salmon out of fish holds to vacuum up oil, logs chained together end to end can work as makeshift booms, peat moss absorbs oil.
So, the other day I watched Rachel Maddow with a couple of scientists who know the wetlands south of New Orleans and they were pretty much talking about when the oil destroys them. They also talked about how even before the spill the area was losing something like 25 square miles of wetlands/marsh every year. I remember flying over them in a helicopter several years ago and seeing some straight what looked like waterways through them. In the natural world nothing is straight. I was told they were pipelines under the water, but cut straight through the swamp grasses. That lets salt water flow unimpeded deeper inland and is one of the reasons the area is losing 25 square miles a year. Another reason I have read, is that channeling the Mississippi River behind dikes and levies prevents what used to happen over the delta which was spreading the flow over a wide area before it enters the ocean, depositing soils and nutrients carried down river from as far away as Minnesota and the Dakotas. (These days it also carries a lot of fertilizers and waste and other chemicals that might not be so good. Supposedly that creates a dead zone out in the Gulf of Mexico.)
Years ago I participated in a project to develop an oil spill response plan for the Copper River Delta and flats, an incredibly rich area on the south coast of Alaska. It has some similarities to the Mississippi, but also hosts a red salmon run from which the fish are considered the finest in the world. Along the coast at the river mouth are what are called grass banks. I suspect they are somewhat similar to the wetlands in the Mississippi Delta. What we eventually decided was we have to get the oil before it gets to the grass banks because there was no way you were going to clean in that kind of area.
With that in mind, and not much else, while I was cleaning house yesterday, I got this idea. Is it possible to open selected areas in the dikes and levies channeling the Mississippi and let the river flow back into traditional areas of the delta? If it is, an outgoing current across the wetlands might be enough to keep the oil offshore where it can be intercepted before it gets into the grasses. (As a side note, I have never believed the only oil damage is when it hits shore. Just because you can't see it in the ocean doesn't mean it isn't harming something. Just ask Alaska herring fishermen about that one.) At any rate an outgoing current over a wide area might just push the oil offshore where there is a better chance of catching it, might help clean those areas that are already oiled, and serve to add protection from a storm surge should a large hurricane blow into the area. It sounds like it could be a huge job. But, the spill is already a huge job, and as such demands huge solutions.
At any rate I sent my idea to the EPA via email last night. I did not send it to BP because my experience with Exxon and what I hear from the Gulf, they do more to discourage innovation than they do to use it. We can try a lot of things, but this needs to be understood: Once the oil is in the water, we have already lost. Everything from now on is simply save what we can.
Walkin' down that long, lonesome driveway
June 14, 2010
Yesterday my Jeep broke down in Anchorage and a friend drove me home from work last night.Among the things from the Jeep I brought home was the face plate from the stereo I just installed, the kind you can take out to prevent theft, since I was leaving the vehicle in the parking lot at work.
As I was walking up the driveway with the faceplate in hand, it hit me. I had done this before.When I was a kid I had a classy Blaupunkt radio. It was portable but came with a rack and plug-in you could install in a car and have a car radio as well as a portable, beach radio. Over the course of the next few years, no fewer than three times, I had to walk up the driveway carrying the radio, having had to leave the car it had been attached to in the ditch where I crashed, or the accident scene or whatever might have caused them to become separated. Some of that life went by in a blur and I forget a lot of details, but I do remember vividly those walks up the driveway and having to explain to unsympathetic parents what had happened to the car this time. And those difficult walks carrying the heavy radio came to the fore last night as I trudged up this driveway with that fancy new stereo face plate. It was much lighter than the Blaupunkt but in a way it carried the same weight and I had to laugh at how things change but not really.
Great minds etc.
June 18, 2010
Not sure what to make of this, but isn't it nice to be listened to? And the president no less. You go Mr. Obama. Just four days after I wrote about the Mississippi Delta, this came across the wire. (I have never posted blatant copies of someone else's work before, but I used to work for the Chicago Tribune, so maybe I get a pass)
At any rate: From the Chicago Tribune July 16:
By JULIE CART and JIM TANKERSLEY
Tribune Washington Bureau
=
WASHINGTON — President Barack Obama's announcement of an ambitious plan to restore Louisiana's wetlands promises to ensnare the administration in a long-standing political morass over how best to manage the lower Mississippi River.
The size, scope and details of the restoration plan Obama announced Tuesday are still taking shape under the guidance of Navy Secretary and former Mississippi Gov. Ray Mabus, White House spokesman Ben LaBolt said. Obama asked Mabus to assess the Gulf Coast needs and complete his restoration plan to address them "as soon as possible," aides said.
It appears likely that the environmental component of that plan will go far beyond cleaning up beaches and marshlands tainted by spilled oil, to rebuilding and restoring coastal areas that have suffered for decades from erosion, the impacts of hurricanes Katrina and Rita, commercial activities and other ills.
"Beyond compensating the people of the Gulf in the short term, it's also clear we need a long-term plan to restore the unique beauty and bounty of this region," Obama said in a nationally televised address. "The oil spill represents just the latest blow to a place that has already suffered multiple economic disasters and decades of environmental degradation that has led to disappearing wetlands and habitats."
White House aides said the environmental restoration effort will be informed by the work of a federal interagency task force on Gulf Coast restoration, which in March released a "Roadmap for Restoring Ecosystem Resiliency and Sustainability" in Louisiana and Mississippi.
The roadmap calls for "bold and decisive action ... to curtail the rate of wetland loss and barrier island erosion in the area" and to restore ecosystems.
Obama is not the first American president to pledge to remake Louisiana's wetlands. Generations of political figures have been stymied by the complexity of the issue. The Mississippi River defines the Louisiana coast, which over millennia has deposited the sediments that established the landmass in the river's drainage. That natural land-building ceased with a succession of levee and dam projects beginning in the 1930s that have channelized the river.
As a result, the Mississippi no longer fans out, dropping sediment that creates new land. Instead, sediment sluices out to the seafloor. An estimated 1.2 million acres of wetlands have been converted to open water since the levee system began.
The "taming" of the river was intended to provide flood control and improve navigation for ships to the port of New Orleans. Few elected officials want to take on powerful interests that benefit from keeping the river's man-made berms in place. Prominent among those interests are the oil industry, which has benefited from an estimated 10,000 miles of canals that have been cut through south Louisiana's marshes to allow access for oil and gas vessels.
Gulf states will no doubt put their hands up seeking funding for pet projects, which in addition to wetlands restoration might include shoring up barrier islands and dredging bays and sounds. But many coastal scientists argue that the most effective solution to restoring Louisiana's wetlands is tackling the jury-rigged plumbing of the Mississippi.
"The single issue that would top any wish list is to change in the way the lower Mississippi River is managed," said Len Bahr, coastal adviser to five Louisiana governors. "Unless we really come to grips with that, we don't have a chance (of) saving the coast in the long run. They hope all these little projects will add up to something. They are all little Band-Aids."
Bahr said every time the issue of river management was broached by scientists, powerful political forces ruled the day.
Obama did not make clear how the effort would be funded or how much it would cost, but it appears likely that the administration will attempt to force BP to foot the bill.
"We must make a commitment to the Gulf Coast that goes beyond responding to the crisis of the moment ... and BP will pay for the impact this spill has had on the region," the president said.
The oil company has put up $350 million to fund a plan to help shore up Louisiana's barrier islands with the hope that the narrow sand spits will stop oil slicks from hitting the coast. Some critics of the project, which is championed by Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal, say it is a back-door plan to fund coastal restoration that successive state and federal governments have failed to address.
———
(Los Angeles Times reporter Cart reported from Los Angeles and Tankersley of the Tribune Washington Bureau from Washington.)
=
WASHINGTON — President Barack Obama's announcement of an ambitious plan to restore Louisiana's wetlands promises to ensnare the administration in a long-standing political morass over how best to manage the lower Mississippi River.
The size, scope and details of the restoration plan Obama announced Tuesday are still taking shape under the guidance of Navy Secretary and former Mississippi Gov. Ray Mabus, White House spokesman Ben LaBolt said. Obama asked Mabus to assess the Gulf Coast needs and complete his restoration plan to address them "as soon as possible," aides said.
It appears likely that the environmental component of that plan will go far beyond cleaning up beaches and marshlands tainted by spilled oil, to rebuilding and restoring coastal areas that have suffered for decades from erosion, the impacts of hurricanes Katrina and Rita, commercial activities and other ills.
"Beyond compensating the people of the Gulf in the short term, it's also clear we need a long-term plan to restore the unique beauty and bounty of this region," Obama said in a nationally televised address. "The oil spill represents just the latest blow to a place that has already suffered multiple economic disasters and decades of environmental degradation that has led to disappearing wetlands and habitats."
White House aides said the environmental restoration effort will be informed by the work of a federal interagency task force on Gulf Coast restoration, which in March released a "Roadmap for Restoring Ecosystem Resiliency and Sustainability" in Louisiana and Mississippi.
The roadmap calls for "bold and decisive action ... to curtail the rate of wetland loss and barrier island erosion in the area" and to restore ecosystems.
Obama is not the first American president to pledge to remake Louisiana's wetlands. Generations of political figures have been stymied by the complexity of the issue. The Mississippi River defines the Louisiana coast, which over millennia has deposited the sediments that established the landmass in the river's drainage. That natural land-building ceased with a succession of levee and dam projects beginning in the 1930s that have channelized the river.
As a result, the Mississippi no longer fans out, dropping sediment that creates new land. Instead, sediment sluices out to the seafloor. An estimated 1.2 million acres of wetlands have been converted to open water since the levee system began.
The "taming" of the river was intended to provide flood control and improve navigation for ships to the port of New Orleans. Few elected officials want to take on powerful interests that benefit from keeping the river's man-made berms in place. Prominent among those interests are the oil industry, which has benefited from an estimated 10,000 miles of canals that have been cut through south Louisiana's marshes to allow access for oil and gas vessels.
Gulf states will no doubt put their hands up seeking funding for pet projects, which in addition to wetlands restoration might include shoring up barrier islands and dredging bays and sounds. But many coastal scientists argue that the most effective solution to restoring Louisiana's wetlands is tackling the jury-rigged plumbing of the Mississippi.
"The single issue that would top any wish list is to change in the way the lower Mississippi River is managed," said Len Bahr, coastal adviser to five Louisiana governors. "Unless we really come to grips with that, we don't have a chance (of) saving the coast in the long run. They hope all these little projects will add up to something. They are all little Band-Aids."
Bahr said every time the issue of river management was broached by scientists, powerful political forces ruled the day.
Obama did not make clear how the effort would be funded or how much it would cost, but it appears likely that the administration will attempt to force BP to foot the bill.
"We must make a commitment to the Gulf Coast that goes beyond responding to the crisis of the moment ... and BP will pay for the impact this spill has had on the region," the president said.
The oil company has put up $350 million to fund a plan to help shore up Louisiana's barrier islands with the hope that the narrow sand spits will stop oil slicks from hitting the coast. Some critics of the project, which is championed by Louisiana Gov. Bobby Jindal, say it is a back-door plan to fund coastal restoration that successive state and federal governments have failed to address.
———
(Los Angeles Times reporter Cart reported from Los Angeles and Tankersley of the Tribune Washington Bureau from Washington.)
A treat to beat your feet in the Mississippi mud
June 28, 2010
I am not sure what to say about this and to be honest haven't thought it all through yet, but here goes a little rambling.
June 12 I wrote about one Gulf oil spill solution I thought might work and that was letting the Mississippi River flow into the bays, marshes and bayous of the Delta to create a current to push the oil offshore, keeping it out of the wetlands. At the time I did send the suggestion to the EPA at its Gulf spill website.
A couple of days later there was news from Washington that President Obama had spoken of doing just that to rebuild the Delta after years of loss due to rechanneling and controlling the river.
After being gone from the news for a week, I learned last night that just that is being done ... fresh water from the river has been allowed to flow into the bays of the delta in an effort to hold the oil offshore where it will maybe be kept out of the grasses and where it is easier to collect than it is to clean it off blades of grass.
One problem that developed was the fresh water killed oysters in the area. Now, I have three things to say about that. (maybe four)
To begin with, if fresh water kills them, they probably are not indigenous. For another if oil intruded, they probably would have died anyway. For a third, oyster spat is readily available, people in Alaska buy it all the time from Oregon for farms here, so the population could be reinstated after the danger passes. The fourth is not as pleasant. Sometimes the individual has to be sacrificed for the whole and perhaps this is one of those times. Oil getting into the wetlands would probably be a far worse catastrophe than the loss of oysters by fresh water.
As for the idea of releasing the Mississippi water into the Delta to try to hold the oil offshore, I am not going to take credit for this. But I will accept the idea of parallel thought processes and take a little comfort in that. I just hope it works and relieves some of the threats to the Gulf Coast, and maybe in the longer term begins the rebuilding of the Mississippi Delta.
And speaking of Delta
June 28, 2010
" ... Stop the money chase, Lay back, relax, Get back on the human track ..."
A very strange encounter. In the middle of the reception for my daughter's wedding a fellow walked up and without even introducing himself (I sort of knew who he was but we had never been introduced... I think he is fairly high up in the banking community in Anchorage). well, he started ragging on me about the failure of newspapers. Not the failure in economic terms, but apparently the failure to write the news about and in favor of things that interested or affected him. I kept trying to find a courteous way out of this, but it was like this guy had this pent up criticism for journalists and finally had one he could bring it out to.
Among his complaints was the idea somehow that the press had not brought out that Alaska fishermen DID receive money from Exxon over the spill and that was not made public in the awful press. That almost got under my skin. The paper I worked for published several stories about payments to fishermen when they were made, but this guy evidently missed those days or conveniently forgot them. The fact that the Exxon obligation was cut by the courts from $5 billion to less than $500 million and more than 30 percent of the people died before payments could be made apparently meant nothing to this guy. When it didn't sound like it was going to stop any time soon, I mumbled some excuse about having to give a toast or something and got away from him, wondering why the man chose my daughter's wedding to put me in the position of defending the American press.
Among his complaints was the idea somehow that the press had not brought out that Alaska fishermen DID receive money from Exxon over the spill and that was not made public in the awful press. That almost got under my skin. The paper I worked for published several stories about payments to fishermen when they were made, but this guy evidently missed those days or conveniently forgot them. The fact that the Exxon obligation was cut by the courts from $5 billion to less than $500 million and more than 30 percent of the people died before payments could be made apparently meant nothing to this guy. When it didn't sound like it was going to stop any time soon, I mumbled some excuse about having to give a toast or something and got away from him, wondering why the man chose my daughter's wedding to put me in the position of defending the American press.
Later it crossed my mind that i might have said something like, yeah the press has its failings but it was the banking industry that almost brought down the world's economy. How about if we report more about that?
" ... Won't you come on and sing it children. He's a stranger in a strange land."
And the connection? Lyrics from Leon Russell's "Stranger in a strange land" during his Delta music phase
Not even if the economy runs all the way down
July 19, 2010
Put this one among jobs I won't be applying for: counselor at an archery camp for blind kids. No kidding, we had a story tonight about people who do this. And none of them look punctured, at least in the pictures with the story.
Confessions of a reluctant shepherd
December 23, 2010
Doing something I haven't done in a long time, sitting back with the stereo loud and listening and thinking. I guess it's normal this time of year to want some Christmas music and I don't listen to the radio much so I am not sick of it yet. Though I am not religious at all, it is the Christian songs i want to hear. And nobody does it better than the Mormons... "Christmas with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir." Some of it reaches the extent of emotionalism, there are a couple of songs on this recording that raise it. One of them is "Oh Holy Night." Again, I have never been much of a fan of operatic sopranos, but the woman who sings the solo on that carol gives me goose bumps. It starts out with pretty much just her and gradually builds to the whole choir, but she is so strong a singer she even overwhelms that whole Tabernacle Choir.
Part of that song takes me so far back. It goes to the that little Lutheran Church in my home town where every year all of us kids had to participate in the Christmas pageant. We formed a creche and sang some of these songs while someone narrated the Christmas story. It was my first experience with type casting and I resented it greatly. Year after year i yearned to be Joseph but if not that at least a Wise Man. But, no, such was my lot in life that I was condemned to watch my sheep by night and greet the heavenly host, my burlap sack over my shoulders, my improvised shepherd's crook in hand and stand there doing nothing while i was supposed to be adoring the Christ child.
Who I was adoring was a girl named Bonnie. For the life of me I cannot recall her last name now. She was beautiful and very exotic because she didn't attend the public school the rest of us did. She went to a boarding school somewhere and the only time we saw her was at Christmas and every year from about the age of 8 on she stood in front of that scene and sang Oh Holy Night. And I stood in the back in my burlap knowing i would never be good enough to approach this beautiful girl who sang Oh Holy Night. So, from about the time I walked out onto that little alter stage until the last song was sung and the candy canes were handed out and we were freed from that burlap for another year, the only thing i knew about what was going on was that Bonnie was there and she was singing and nothing else mattered.
I take that back. One other thing mattered. One of the songs all of us sang was "Silent Night." Now this choir director was insistent that we pronounce our "ts" She wanted to hear the "t" in silent and she wanted the hear the "t" in night. We tried but we never did clip that "T" in unison. As a result, our Silent Night came out "Silent -t-t-t-t-t-t Night-t-t-t-t-t, Holy night-t-t-t-t-t-t. All those Tuh tuh tuhs made those of us in the back giggle until we could barely control ourselves. If that director had only let us leave the ts off she would never have had to apologize for us every year like she did. It was always "well I did my best, but these boys are incorrigible." I would have been less so if i could have done something besides herd fake sheep. Maybe be Joseph and stand there next to Bonnie when she sang.
Today though, that experience gave me this appreciation of the beautiful Christian music at Christmas and a lifelong dislike for most other Christmas music. I don't even like "Silver Bells", let alone" Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." Give me "Silenttttt Nightttt" or "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," even "Little Drummer Boy" and "Do You Hear What I Hear." And let me believe that somewhere out there tomorrow night a bunch of kids are trying to enunciate their Ts in unison and somewhere Bonnie is rehearsing tonight for tomorrow night's solo of "Oh Holy Night."
Meanwhile I have the Mormons here and they have whom I can only assume is a beautiful soprano singing "Oh Holy Night."
Here is another take on the same scene from someone else who was there:
It was probably Bonnie Matchulet. Her Mom was the organist. Her brother was my brother, Chip's age. I always got stuck singing because I could sing harmony [alto]. I remember all the guys standing around in their [or their Fathers'] bathrobes, and then when we'd see Bible story movies, the characters always had the same types of robes.
-- Peter Leitzke
Part of that song takes me so far back. It goes to the that little Lutheran Church in my home town where every year all of us kids had to participate in the Christmas pageant. We formed a creche and sang some of these songs while someone narrated the Christmas story. It was my first experience with type casting and I resented it greatly. Year after year i yearned to be Joseph but if not that at least a Wise Man. But, no, such was my lot in life that I was condemned to watch my sheep by night and greet the heavenly host, my burlap sack over my shoulders, my improvised shepherd's crook in hand and stand there doing nothing while i was supposed to be adoring the Christ child.
Who I was adoring was a girl named Bonnie. For the life of me I cannot recall her last name now. She was beautiful and very exotic because she didn't attend the public school the rest of us did. She went to a boarding school somewhere and the only time we saw her was at Christmas and every year from about the age of 8 on she stood in front of that scene and sang Oh Holy Night. And I stood in the back in my burlap knowing i would never be good enough to approach this beautiful girl who sang Oh Holy Night. So, from about the time I walked out onto that little alter stage until the last song was sung and the candy canes were handed out and we were freed from that burlap for another year, the only thing i knew about what was going on was that Bonnie was there and she was singing and nothing else mattered.
I take that back. One other thing mattered. One of the songs all of us sang was "Silent Night." Now this choir director was insistent that we pronounce our "ts" She wanted to hear the "t" in silent and she wanted the hear the "t" in night. We tried but we never did clip that "T" in unison. As a result, our Silent Night came out "Silent -t-t-t-t-t-t Night-t-t-t-t-t, Holy night-t-t-t-t-t-t. All those Tuh tuh tuhs made those of us in the back giggle until we could barely control ourselves. If that director had only let us leave the ts off she would never have had to apologize for us every year like she did. It was always "well I did my best, but these boys are incorrigible." I would have been less so if i could have done something besides herd fake sheep. Maybe be Joseph and stand there next to Bonnie when she sang.
Today though, that experience gave me this appreciation of the beautiful Christian music at Christmas and a lifelong dislike for most other Christmas music. I don't even like "Silver Bells", let alone" Mommy Kissing Santa Claus." Give me "Silenttttt Nightttt" or "Hark the Herald Angels Sing," even "Little Drummer Boy" and "Do You Hear What I Hear." And let me believe that somewhere out there tomorrow night a bunch of kids are trying to enunciate their Ts in unison and somewhere Bonnie is rehearsing tonight for tomorrow night's solo of "Oh Holy Night."
Meanwhile I have the Mormons here and they have whom I can only assume is a beautiful soprano singing "Oh Holy Night."
Here is another take on the same scene from someone else who was there:
It was probably Bonnie Matchulet. Her Mom was the organist. Her brother was my brother, Chip's age. I always got stuck singing because I could sing harmony [alto]. I remember all the guys standing around in their [or their Fathers'] bathrobes, and then when we'd see Bible story movies, the characters always had the same types of robes.
-- Peter Leitzke
New Year's Eve and Plot #32, when the kids leave you behind
December 26, 2010
I was looking forward to an expotition to the East Pole for New Year’s again, especially with my son being here, but it doesn’t look like it is going to happen. Seems like one thing after another gets in the way of going, including my son’s truck breaking down to the point we can’t afford to fix it right now. I told him he could use my Jeep and he took off yesterday and I haven’t seen him since, which means I can’t even go to the Pole by myself because I need the Jeep to haul the trailer for the snowmachines.
With all the actual obstructions, I also noticed his reticence toward making the trip which at this point has made it just about impossible. I was complaining about this to a friend who pointed out I watch too much television. Most families don’t have the kind of relationships you see on television, she said. It hit me that maybe I do watch too much and I had eventually accepted those relationships were normal. Reality bites. But at least maybe I can realize I am lamenting a situation that could never happen anyway.
Then again. Driving around today I got to thinking about this and came across a realization. Just in the past couple of weeks I have seen two sitcoms with similar situations. In one all the kids in the family revolted at spending yet another summer vacation at the lake -- that lake in everyone’s experience where Dad always wanted to teach the kids to fish. In the second a group of grown kids went to great extremes to avoid spending yet another Christmas at the family’s cabin in the woods. Somewhere in my memory ghosting around are other similar stories. Maybe this is one of those 39 plots. Did the Capulets take the family to the Alps on summer holiday?
So, maybe I watch too many sitcoms or maybe life imitates art instead of the other way around. Safe to say the kids win this round and Dad better get used to trips to the East Pole alone. Actually thinking Hawaii next year. And I have this friend who is suggesting a voyage from here to Palau.
With all the actual obstructions, I also noticed his reticence toward making the trip which at this point has made it just about impossible. I was complaining about this to a friend who pointed out I watch too much television. Most families don’t have the kind of relationships you see on television, she said. It hit me that maybe I do watch too much and I had eventually accepted those relationships were normal. Reality bites. But at least maybe I can realize I am lamenting a situation that could never happen anyway.
Then again. Driving around today I got to thinking about this and came across a realization. Just in the past couple of weeks I have seen two sitcoms with similar situations. In one all the kids in the family revolted at spending yet another summer vacation at the lake -- that lake in everyone’s experience where Dad always wanted to teach the kids to fish. In the second a group of grown kids went to great extremes to avoid spending yet another Christmas at the family’s cabin in the woods. Somewhere in my memory ghosting around are other similar stories. Maybe this is one of those 39 plots. Did the Capulets take the family to the Alps on summer holiday?
So, maybe I watch too many sitcoms or maybe life imitates art instead of the other way around. Safe to say the kids win this round and Dad better get used to trips to the East Pole alone. Actually thinking Hawaii next year. And I have this friend who is suggesting a voyage from here to Palau.
Plot #32 with a touch of meteorological schizophrenia
December 31, 2010
All week it’s been zero up a bit, down a bit. All of a sudden last night (though forecast) the temperature rose to 40 and it rained. Still near 40 this afternoon and most of the snow here is gone. So, maybe the expotition to the East Pole wouldn’t have been the best idea anyway. Had we gone in Wednesday planning to come out tomorrow, we might have been stuck by open creeks and long slush lakes. Going in today most likely the hills are icy; there was one time I couldn’t get up the first hill and gave up. And then once up the hill, again open creeks and long slush puddles in the rain. Not much fun no matter how you look at it. So rather than being trapped at the East Pole, I am kind of trapped by icy roads here in the Butte. Happy New Year.
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