Blue skies...sunshine...

...and 15 degrees below zero.

It's the longest cold snap in years for the municipality of Anchorage. We're going on two weeks of temperatures with a high of -2 and a low of -20 Fahrenheit. Blow your nose before you ride your bike to work, or your snot will freeze and you'll have to breathe through your mouth! Trust me on that one.

After a week-long hiatus of no phone or internet service (the company wanted me to give them money, those fiends!), I'm back and feeling more than a little behind in placing the written word on the electronic paper. And to go just a smidgen more abstract than that, here's my recently conceived abstract on communication, co-written by Baileys and Jameson & Co.:

"The more elaborate our means of communication, the less we communicate."
-Joseph Priestley

Communication

Communication is the true connection between two people. It has its roots with the original two primates, 'Adam' and 'Eve', of course, who screeched and clawed at each other over apple and snake, herbivorous or carnivorous, and were so effective in communicating that both resigned to incorporate the other's belief system. Being that the snake was a Philippine Cobra, and its meat a natural aphrodisiac, the two primates copulated time and again, creating many more primates with whom they could then screech and claw at regarding the finer things in life. Only later did Eve realize copulation was the motivation behind Adam's carnivorous disposition (all those nights eating cobra alone by the fire must have driven him half-mad with desire!).

But let's not get sidetracked.

Pretty soon there were plenty of primates running around, eating fruit and meat and communicating on the most basic level, which is grunting. And anyone who doesn't want to acknowledge this connection to our past brothers and sisters, anyone who claims that we were created well past the point of monosyllabic expressionism, and that Charlie's uncle Roy is extra furry because not only does he masturbate uncontrollably, but the werewolf that bit him did also, let them look no further than the bathroom. No, we're not on masturbation still here; I'm talking about clean teeth. Clean teeth? If I've lost you at this point, reread the quote at the top of the page and have a giggle at my expense.

Cleaning teeth, the act of, more specifically.

Take a community of four human beings, four toothbrushes, one bathroom, and the desire to continue the act of teeth-cleaning for the duration of the bathroom community meeting, and have a look.

Here they are now:

Sophia is already in the bathroom, actually. She purchased the much sought-after toothpaste and is here to store it after applying a healthy dose to the head of her toothbrush. Now she is brushing her teeth.

Enter Brandon. He knows the new toothpaste is here and wants a clean mouth. Ahh, how refreshing!

Following on his heels are Charlie and Josie. Demand for toothpaste this morning was high in the community, and Sophia was chosen to gather the resource because she not only knew where to find it, but also had the necessary materials for trade, should she need to barter with another tribe.

See them brush their teeth in unison.

Pleased at the acquisition of this commodity, Brandon is nodding his head, smiling, and making sounds of approval:

"Mmmmmmm-Mmmmmmm!"

Charlie and Josie join in with smiles and similarly-pitched sounds.
This gesture is acknowledged by Sophia, and we can guess that she interprets it correctly because she smiles back, offers a 'thumbs up' signal, and sounds back:

"Mmmmmmm."

Now it would seem that Brandon needs to communicate an entirely new idea to Sophie. He has an inquisitive look on his face and he’s cocked his head to the left ever so slightly.

“Hmmm. Hmmm-hmmmm?”

This has attracted the attention of everyone in the group, but he is looking at Sophie specifically, and, with his right hand raised in a loose fist, he rotates his wrist back and forth.
Sophie has a look of confusion on her face. See how her lips are pursed outward, her eyebrows come inward, and her head cocks to the side, perhaps mimicking Brandon’s head placement. She includes a responding grunt:

“Hmmmmm?”

Brandon seeks to be understood. Now he moves his arms like he’s marching in place.
Now he’s rotating his wrist again.
He points at himself and grunts back:

“Mmmmmmmmm. Mmm! Mmm! Mmmmmmmm.”

Ah! Charlie recognizes these movements, a good sign, because Brandon is becoming frustrated. Charlie motions as if holding a large object in front of him, one hand in front of the other, and shaking as he makes the sound:

“M-m-m-m-m-m-m-mm! M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-mm!”

Whatever was the gesture of Charlie’s, it is not correct. Brandon is shaking his head, clearly frustrated. Now Brandon is searching for something. The toothpaste! He’s holding the tube of toothpaste and he’s smearing bits of it on the bathroom mirror. He’s drawing a picture! It’s a car! He wants the car keys!

“Mmmm? Mmm-mmmm!”

Sophie is shaking her head. She does not want to give up possession of the car.
Now Brandon is shaking, waving, and hitting a Listerine bottle against the bathroom counter - an obvious sign of agitation, possibly aggression. He grunts forcefully:

“MMMM! MMMMM! MMMMM! MMMMM! MMMMM!”

Charlie attempts to pacify Brandon while Josie has left the bathroom. The battle for dominance in the bathroom between these two has been building up for weeks, initially spurred from the yogurt-stealing incident. Oh! Josie has re-entered the bathroom and she's brought a package of polska kielbasa. She's waving it to the other three and sounding off:

"Mmm-Mmmmm! Mmm-Mmmmm!"

The others are not paying attention. Clearly, Josie will need to create a larger distraction.
Brandon seems to be calming down now, as Sophia rubs the car keys against his face. Charlie is smelling various items he is picking up off the bathroom counter (ie: toothpaste, hand soap, mascara, q-tips, lip gloss).
Look, Josie has started a fire in the middle of the bathroom floor! She’s waving the kielbasa in the air and gesturing from the fire to the shower! And Charlie’s joined in! He’s dancing around the fire and he’s got the toilet plunger!
Now, Charlie with plunger and Josie with (newfound) toilet scrubber are sparring off around the fire for dominance of showering privileges!

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm….Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm…”

“Mmm-mmmm, Mmmmmm-mmmmmm….”

Brandon, with toothpaste-ridden hands desperately clutching the car keys against his breast, now looks into the bathtub. He’s staring…he won’t stop staring…he looks annoyed…he has taken his toothbrush out of his mouth…

“Derek, put down your notepad and get out of the tub.”

Damnit.

This is field reporter Derek, signing off.

And this reporter is signing off as well. The morning and I have a date in Anchorage.

40 miles in a blizzard?

"
WESTERN PRINCE WILLIAM SOUND-
INCLUDING THE CITIES OF...WHITTIER...SEWARD...GIRDWOOD...
MOOSE PASS
1223 PM AKST TUE DEC 23 2008

...BLIZZARD WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT 3PM AKST THIS AFTERNOON
UNTIL 5 AM AKST WEDNESDAY FOR SEWARD AND WHITTIER...
"

So, the last minute Christmas shopping remains to be
completed, and four individuals (including myself) have
come together to make the drive from Girdwood to Anchorage.

That was the plan, anyway.

The weather forecast changed from 'snow likely' to 'blizzard
warning', the fine grain snow outside is blowing sideways,
and it is impossible to see anything in the distance.

Will we have to postpone our shopping plans (and Christmas?)
or will we venture into the unknown white, throw caution to
the wind, and proclaim that even phrases like:
"THIS WILL LEAD TO WHITE-OUT CONDITIONS...MAKING TRAVEL
EXTREMELY DANGEROUS. ALL TRAVEL AND OUTDOOR ACTIVITY IS
STRONGLY DISCOURAGED"
do not hinder our God-given right to consumerism?

The verdict to be decided when the sisters return home
from work.

UPDATE: The decision has been made for us. A head-on
collision on the highway and resulting fatality has closed
the highway for now.

RIP Meghan Murrell  :(

A Bitter Baking Battle

Survey the battlefield depicted to your right. So many men spread out amongst the tools of war. And yet, they are all the victors. What stuff they're made of will help them survive against a horde of hungry party-goers. They refuse to be tasty.

It is a well-kept secret that I am not skilled in the creation of gingerbread cookies.
So well-kept is the secret that I, myself, found out a couple nights ago.

My sister, Niki, and I set out to make a batch of cookies for a holiday party in Girdwood. Based on the limited selection of ingredients available at our mercantile store, we settled on gingerbread cookies from an internet recipe.
I won't bore you with all the details, but I will say that after the first batch, we had to make adjustments. After the second batch, we made more adjustments.
Third batch, add rum.
Fourth batch, add chopped ginger.
Fifth batch, drizzle with honey and raw sugar.
Final batch, maybe more molasses?
Did I mention we didn't have gingerbread man cookie cutters?
We used Halloween cats, pumpkins, and ghosts! Turns out modified ghosts look like gingerbread men.

And maybe eating cookies that are not a flavorful sensation enhances the experience of eating any other cookie that tastes better in the future.
An example:
I once mixed Tabasco sauce into my coffee to give it an extra kick. (yes, ONCE.)
The downside was that it tasted horrible. The upside, which I didn't realize at the time, is that now even the gas station coffee isn't so bad, because I can always think back to that one, absolutely horrible cup of coffee.
Will this hold true for cookies?
Is this the antithesis of striving for the best of the best in the culinary arts?
And does this define me as an optimist or just someone willing to settle for anything that isn't the worst of the worst?
I'm voting for optimism. :)

December Sun

At 3pm, in the middle of December, the sun doesn't rise high enough in the sky to top the mountains around Girdwood's valley. Looking south from the courtyard of The Hotel Alyeska, vitamin-D starved Alaskans wait for the sun to peak around Max's Mountain and burn off the lingering clouds.

Remains of the day?

Reading before work in the coffee shop. Does anyone else have the problem where sitting in front of an open book makes people approach you for conversation?

I also discovered that this particular printing of my book only lists chapter titles on the top of the right-hand page. No title accompanying the chapter number at the beginning of each chapter and no table of contents. A strange by-product of this layout is that there are a few chapters in the book with no chapter name listed. (This happens when a chapter begins and ends, from top to bottom, on a single left-hand page. The right-hand page begins a new chapter, with it's chapter title printed in the header.)

So now I need research and a pen. :)

Winter has arrived!

October 23rd, 2008

The true beginning of winter for the community of Girdwood, Alaska is the day the first snow falls that sticks around for the entire season. Today, if weather predictions can be at all trusted, marks the beginning of winter in Girdwood. I awoke this morning from a dream (about snowboarding goggles!) to our backyard in an epic battle against an onslaught of snowflakes, a black and white scenescape of the aftermath of the Gods having a pillow fight. Big, heavy snowflakes a-falling and dog tracks like ant trails all around what was once our lawn.

Because the cold has really only just begun to set in, the black bears of the valley are still out and about. For evidence, I needed look no further than two houses up Timberline Drive, where, during my walk back from the local bookstore, my attention was drawn to the calls of an adult male human defending his territory and belongings.

"Git! Git outta here! Git! GIT!"

The adult male human will also throw rocks, not at the offending mother bear and three cubs, but at his own property, in an attempt to make more loud noises. Unfortunately, the four bears wanted to use this man's pickup truck as much as he did. No longer picture man yelling and throwing things. Now picture man in his work van, backing out of the driveway, across the road in to the church parking lot, then flooring the van to charge his driveway, pickup truck, and bears, horn honking, like a lumbering cow.

Mrrrrooooooooooooooorrrrrrr!!!

Two wheel drive on the fresh snow is not impressive for barreling down on uninvited bear guests. This kind of confrontation happens frequently in Girdwood. Eventually, the bears retreated to a nearby tree and the adult male human occupied the big, red pickup truck and drove away.

Prologue

The First Blog.

The start of something new.

The First Blog, christened with a cup of port and brandy.

My blog site was born with the realization that a) I want to keep people updated with my progress in life and b) I'm not very good at doing that. I've denoted my blog site as an 'electronic travel journal' and I intend it to be that, but I don't want to be confined by travel as a means of posting blogs. This is a life blog with a general focus on my thoughts while in different locations. This is an electronic travel journal with a short attention span toward the focus of travel. I will blog when I am drawn to blog. With that disclaimer, my travel goals are:

-Alaska, USA (my current location, displaced from California)
-New York City, NY, USA (two weeks with sparse planning, starting November 6th, 2008)
-Central America (duration undetermined, starting September, 2009)

Why the focus on travel?

We, as human beings, watch life on this planet conduct it's business. We are children watching a scene, one eye pressed up to a tiny hole in a bed sheet, taking in what we can see. Without experiencing the perspectives of others, people who experience life in vastly different ways with vastly different means of living, I feel that my understanding of life is distorted by the limited vision I have developed from my limited experience. Travel is my way of tearing the hole in that bed sheet open a little further, to get a wider perspective on life.

You can see the port and brandy has taken hold of me now. Haha!

So, anticipate posts from Alaska. Anticipate posts from New York City. Anticipate posts from somewhere, wandering but not lost, in the as-of-yet self-uncharted lands of Central America. I don't know where this story will end, but it begins right here. I am working for John Byrne III in Girdwood, Alaska.