They had a a public hearing - a PUBLIC HEARING!!!! - on the Bridge to CrazyTown!
Man, if i'da known they were gonna
let the Crazy People come talk about the Crazy Bridge, you couldn't
have kept me away. damn.
this story is pretty straight. No mention of the woman, reported on local NPR, who wanted the funds diverted to a subway to Kenia. As the Rabbi Says, "Buy me a token. I'm on the Subway to Dairy Queen!"
If Alaska has an answer to hip hop's late, great Ol' Dirty Bastard (ODB - RIP), it has to be Frank. And just like ODB, the OCB says: Gimme My Money!
Friday, April 15, 2005
Monday, February 21, 2005
Watershed Crazy
A Banner Week For Crazy. Nay, a Watershed in Crazy History. This week, Crazy chokes the air of the 49th state, vibrating through the atmosphere like the Northern Lights after one of those 100-million-mile long solar flares gets loose.
Crazywise, we are off the charts.
Let me start personal, than blow it up to the full Crazy scope.
I’m in Fairbanks this week for one of the capstones of Crazy Air Force training, the Arctic Survival school aka Cool School. In practice, the concept is crazier (Camping in Alaska! In February! Without tents!) than the reality (teens and 20s this week), but classes with 4 hours of daylight per day and ambient temps of negative 50 are not unheard of.
Anyhoo, that’s where I am, which perhaps has been the karmic trigger for the Crazy eruptions, but who can say? I made the roadie up here, driving the 400 miles from Anchorage to Fairbanks, a trip on which I figured I might be able to hunt down some crazy but no – I only had to keep gas in the car. It found me.
Gas station #1 – Just north of anchorage in the Palmer/Wasilla area, which are two suburbs. Only, apparently, there’s a sweet spot on the map between them – so 100 yards east of my gas station was Wasilla sales taxes. 100 West was Palmer sales taxes. Mine was no sales taxes.
A little weak, but just the opening act.
Gas station #2 – in a strip mall in North Pole (Fairbanks suburb, 10 miles from the Cool school and – as the highway sign now says – 2004 State Football Champions), next to a barber’s shop. Big sign on the barber’s window, handpainted – “I Will Be Closed For Surgery” (Dammit! Now we have to go all the way into Fairbanks for Surgery! - Thankee!!!!)
And now, the three damndest things. First, the Big One.
Or, rather, the No Longer Big One.
Destined to be a national story. Just remember's whose Crazy it is.
‘No Problem With Appeal’
As he asked his girlfriend: “I don't Believe it. Do you?” Let me answer for all of us: If it was anywhere else, no. But...
North To Alabama
Call me a screamin' liberal, but you show me a petition to ban King Salmon fishing in Alabama, I’ll sign it.
Let me give this story just a bit more serious discussion than it deserves: I like PETA in the same sense I like the NRA and Jerry Falwell and grooved pavement on freeways. Without them you might just drive straight off into the abyss before you knew you were out of the lines. PETA is nothing if not a group of moral absolutist blind to the holes in their morality, but isn't that the best part of being morally absolut? (as The Enemies List might put it "No Grey Areas, Only Enemies!") So I am never offended or shocked by PETA's antics and I’m often amused.
But I am offended by this story strictly as a consumer of liberal social movements.
I fall pretty firmly in the same corner as (to name a few of my most-abused favorites) the ACLU, the Sierra Club, the NAACP, Greenpeace, even the sorry-ass Democratic National Committee. And here's PETA - not so much 'one of us' but with a long list of common enemies - wasting everybody's time (and money) without even managing to show a clear grasp of the difference between Alaska and Alabama.
PETA picks up some first downs with most people when they stick to industrial cattle farms, animal lab testing and the lunacies of the fur-wearing world. And then they trot out something like this.
I’m fully aware that this is a publicity stunt and nothing more. Indeed, pub stunts are often what many groups on 'my' side are reduced to. But since these things are our only real weapons, I'd appreaciate it if PETA didn't waste one. Because this whole deal is gruesomely ill-concieved, likely only to alienate friends and set back real debate. Is that the goal?
There. I had my say.
If I had to pick a favorite, it would be the skydiver. Genital mutilation and PETA-attacks are good, but for pure Alaska Crazy, you can't beat a paranoid skydiving wack-job defending himself in open court. Except when he's surpised by the verdict.
Like I said, the sky is positively aglow up here.
Matt
Crazywise, we are off the charts.
Let me start personal, than blow it up to the full Crazy scope.
I’m in Fairbanks this week for one of the capstones of Crazy Air Force training, the Arctic Survival school aka Cool School. In practice, the concept is crazier (Camping in Alaska! In February! Without tents!) than the reality (teens and 20s this week), but classes with 4 hours of daylight per day and ambient temps of negative 50 are not unheard of.
Anyhoo, that’s where I am, which perhaps has been the karmic trigger for the Crazy eruptions, but who can say? I made the roadie up here, driving the 400 miles from Anchorage to Fairbanks, a trip on which I figured I might be able to hunt down some crazy but no – I only had to keep gas in the car. It found me.
Gas station #1 – Just north of anchorage in the Palmer/Wasilla area, which are two suburbs. Only, apparently, there’s a sweet spot on the map between them – so 100 yards east of my gas station was Wasilla sales taxes. 100 West was Palmer sales taxes. Mine was no sales taxes.
A little weak, but just the opening act.
Gas station #2 – in a strip mall in North Pole (Fairbanks suburb, 10 miles from the Cool school and – as the highway sign now says – 2004 State Football Champions), next to a barber’s shop. Big sign on the barber’s window, handpainted – “I Will Be Closed For Surgery” (Dammit! Now we have to go all the way into Fairbanks for Surgery! - Thankee!!!!)
And now, the three damndest things. First, the Big One.
Or, rather, the No Longer Big One.
Destined to be a national story. Just remember's whose Crazy it is.
‘No Problem With Appeal’
As he asked his girlfriend: “I don't Believe it. Do you?” Let me answer for all of us: If it was anywhere else, no. But...
North To Alabama
Call me a screamin' liberal, but you show me a petition to ban King Salmon fishing in Alabama, I’ll sign it.
Let me give this story just a bit more serious discussion than it deserves: I like PETA in the same sense I like the NRA and Jerry Falwell and grooved pavement on freeways. Without them you might just drive straight off into the abyss before you knew you were out of the lines. PETA is nothing if not a group of moral absolutist blind to the holes in their morality, but isn't that the best part of being morally absolut? (as The Enemies List might put it "No Grey Areas, Only Enemies!") So I am never offended or shocked by PETA's antics and I’m often amused.
But I am offended by this story strictly as a consumer of liberal social movements.
I fall pretty firmly in the same corner as (to name a few of my most-abused favorites) the ACLU, the Sierra Club, the NAACP, Greenpeace, even the sorry-ass Democratic National Committee. And here's PETA - not so much 'one of us' but with a long list of common enemies - wasting everybody's time (and money) without even managing to show a clear grasp of the difference between Alaska and Alabama.
PETA picks up some first downs with most people when they stick to industrial cattle farms, animal lab testing and the lunacies of the fur-wearing world. And then they trot out something like this.
I’m fully aware that this is a publicity stunt and nothing more. Indeed, pub stunts are often what many groups on 'my' side are reduced to. But since these things are our only real weapons, I'd appreaciate it if PETA didn't waste one. Because this whole deal is gruesomely ill-concieved, likely only to alienate friends and set back real debate. Is that the goal?
There. I had my say.
If I had to pick a favorite, it would be the skydiver. Genital mutilation and PETA-attacks are good, but for pure Alaska Crazy, you can't beat a paranoid skydiving wack-job defending himself in open court. Except when he's surpised by the verdict.
Like I said, the sky is positively aglow up here.
Matt
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Lost in Crazy
A downtown, relatively famous bar in Anchorage apparently has one of its t-shirts featured on ABC's Lost.
I've never missed an episode of lost, from the debut on. And as for Humpy's the halibut tacos are definetly in Anchorage's top 10 best meals.
I've never missed an episode of lost, from the debut on. And as for Humpy's the halibut tacos are definetly in Anchorage's top 10 best meals.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Turns out, everybody got some Crazy
told ya i wasn't alone up there (see next post).
also, a friend in Austin emailed to say an east-coast friend of his was also up there.
Crazy.
also, a friend in Austin emailed to say an east-coast friend of his was also up there.
Crazy.
Monday, February 07, 2005
Mt. Washington, NH: Surprisingly UnCrazy
The best food on earth - and arguments will not be entertained - is the foil-wrapped, room-temperature, two-day-old leftovers that you thought were in your backpack on top of the mountain that are actually waiting in the car when you get back down.
Right there on the passenger seat where you left it.
It's the first painless, comfortable sensation since you left the car
that morning, the get-well dose on a gaping calorie deficit, an unplanned reward for the climb, and it comes with that little victory of knowing you didn't drop it along the way for some lousy, unappreciate squirrel.
I was reminded of this Law Of The Human Digestive System today when I
got back to my car late this afternoon and found the last three -
THREE!!! - slices of a spinach-roni stomboli from a place that knew how
to make it. Three full, soft, warm, lustily flavorful slices.
A perfect way to cap a climb up New Hampshire's - ney, New
England's - tallest, meanest, nastiest hill, Mt. Washington.
Now, let me tell you a little about Mt. Washington, how it vaguely fits
into the Alaska Crazy profile, and how my climb today was Crazy, even
by our high standards in the 49th state.
Mt. Washington, over 6K ft, sits at the three-way intersection of three
weather corridors. Weather comes down from Canada and the great lakes,
in the from the Atlantic and up from the south, and hits right on top
of Mt. Washington's bare shoulders.
The highest windspeed ever recorded on earth - 230 MPH, or some such
lunacy - was on Mt. Washington. 100MPH winds - sustained - can happen
any day, any season. Gusts way past that.
One of the well-built buildings on top of the mountain is literally
chained to the ground, with three iron, maritime-anchor-looking chains
going all the way up and over the roof, like the building was going to
make a break for it.
In fact, in the climbing world, it's a truism that Mt. Washington is
the only place in the Lower 48 that can, reliably, simulate the
conditions that ambitious climbers are likely to find on extended trips
in - wait for it! - Alaska.
In short, no matter who you are or where you are from - even if it's
Alaska - Mt. Washington can kick your ass.
And, like the rest of New England in winter, Mt. Washington's
angriest month, on average, is February.
Which is why I must report that as I stood on the summit today, the wind whipped itself up to a howling, sustained, 3 MPH. Gusts were way past that - like, 6.
Temps in the high-30s - in the shade. Out in the sun, i'd put it at
mid-50s. And 'out in the sun' was pretty much everywhere, since it
was, as the pilots like to say, 'severe clear' tO every point of the
compass.
Now, all over the mountain were, i'd like to think, some of the
upper-crust of New England's climbing community, at least 100 other
climbers. Each of them, without exception, was dragging full-sized
packs full of what i'm sure was survival gear of the highest order.
Absolutely everyone had the sturdiest of deep-cold hiking boots, many
of the plastic kind, and much more than half had on crampons, some as
early in the trip as the parking lot.
It was a mountain of people who were, in a word, scared.
I had plastic boots and crampons, too. Right there strapped to my
backpack. Same place as my mountain axe. Nobody was going to tell me i didn't know what to
bring.
But I don't think i was imagining the just-plain resentment in
the faces of absolutely everybody i passed when they looked down and
saw I was doing the whole thing in running shoes. And a tshirt.
So to my fellow Alaskans on this list considering whether or not
they want to take on the mighty pride of east coast mountaineering, the
bruiser from New Hampshire, the meanest square mile of real estate this side of Tibet, Mt. "Worse Weather Than Alaska" Washington - deep in the heart of
February, no less - my advice to you is do NOT underestimate the Beast:
Bring LOTS of sunscreen. And maybe a kite - in case the wind ever
does actually blow.
Oh! And get the Stomboli from Delancy's the night before,
matt
Right there on the passenger seat where you left it.
It's the first painless, comfortable sensation since you left the car
that morning, the get-well dose on a gaping calorie deficit, an unplanned reward for the climb, and it comes with that little victory of knowing you didn't drop it along the way for some lousy, unappreciate squirrel.
I was reminded of this Law Of The Human Digestive System today when I
got back to my car late this afternoon and found the last three -
THREE!!! - slices of a spinach-roni stomboli from a place that knew how
to make it. Three full, soft, warm, lustily flavorful slices.
A perfect way to cap a climb up New Hampshire's - ney, New
England's - tallest, meanest, nastiest hill, Mt. Washington.
Now, let me tell you a little about Mt. Washington, how it vaguely fits
into the Alaska Crazy profile, and how my climb today was Crazy, even
by our high standards in the 49th state.
Mt. Washington, over 6K ft, sits at the three-way intersection of three
weather corridors. Weather comes down from Canada and the great lakes,
in the from the Atlantic and up from the south, and hits right on top
of Mt. Washington's bare shoulders.
The highest windspeed ever recorded on earth - 230 MPH, or some such
lunacy - was on Mt. Washington. 100MPH winds - sustained - can happen
any day, any season. Gusts way past that.
One of the well-built buildings on top of the mountain is literally
chained to the ground, with three iron, maritime-anchor-looking chains
going all the way up and over the roof, like the building was going to
make a break for it.
In fact, in the climbing world, it's a truism that Mt. Washington is
the only place in the Lower 48 that can, reliably, simulate the
conditions that ambitious climbers are likely to find on extended trips
in - wait for it! - Alaska.
In short, no matter who you are or where you are from - even if it's
Alaska - Mt. Washington can kick your ass.
And, like the rest of New England in winter, Mt. Washington's
angriest month, on average, is February.
Which is why I must report that as I stood on the summit today, the wind whipped itself up to a howling, sustained, 3 MPH. Gusts were way past that - like, 6.
Temps in the high-30s - in the shade. Out in the sun, i'd put it at
mid-50s. And 'out in the sun' was pretty much everywhere, since it
was, as the pilots like to say, 'severe clear' tO every point of the
compass.
Now, all over the mountain were, i'd like to think, some of the
upper-crust of New England's climbing community, at least 100 other
climbers. Each of them, without exception, was dragging full-sized
packs full of what i'm sure was survival gear of the highest order.
Absolutely everyone had the sturdiest of deep-cold hiking boots, many
of the plastic kind, and much more than half had on crampons, some as
early in the trip as the parking lot.
It was a mountain of people who were, in a word, scared.
I had plastic boots and crampons, too. Right there strapped to my
backpack. Same place as my mountain axe. Nobody was going to tell me i didn't know what to
bring.
But I don't think i was imagining the just-plain resentment in
the faces of absolutely everybody i passed when they looked down and
saw I was doing the whole thing in running shoes. And a tshirt.
So to my fellow Alaskans on this list considering whether or not
they want to take on the mighty pride of east coast mountaineering, the
bruiser from New Hampshire, the meanest square mile of real estate this side of Tibet, Mt. "Worse Weather Than Alaska" Washington - deep in the heart of
February, no less - my advice to you is do NOT underestimate the Beast:
Bring LOTS of sunscreen. And maybe a kite - in case the wind ever
does actually blow.
Oh! And get the Stomboli from Delancy's the night before,
matt
Crazy Disclosure
Okay. Just so the record is set, here's the Mt. Washington Weather observatory's page for Feb 6, 2005, the day of my climb discussed above. Note the weather report is from 5am that day, and it obviously got much warmer by the time i got to the summit about 1pm.
Here is the comments from the weather intern who lives up there:
For perspective, here are the archived pages of Mt. Washington weather from the same day in recent years:
Feb. 6, 2002
2003
2004.
Here is the comments from the weather intern who lives up there:
Sunday saw some of the most extreme weather on Mount Washington in years. That's right, good weather on the summit can be considered extreme. At 42F we smashed the old record high of 33F set in 1938. Just one degree shy of the all-time monthly record. Monday's record high has also been exceeded. Daily records are broken quite regularly though, often several times a year. The extreme event happened around 9am when the winds became completely calm. Even the slightest breath of air could not be found on the summit. If you visit the top of Mount Washington in the winter you are more likely to experience 130mph gusts than calm winds.
With all the nice weather in the mountains there was a flood of activity on the Rockpile this weekend. Scores of people reached the summit on both Saturday and Sunday. At times the Observation Deck was as crowded as a summer afternoon, and the summit crew could be seen playing baseball. In the late afternoon I found corn snow skiing the east snowfields. What a weekend!
For perspective, here are the archived pages of Mt. Washington weather from the same day in recent years:
Feb. 6, 2002
2003
2004.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Semester At Crazy
Damn Coasties get all the good ones.
"I'm Tech Sgt. White. I'm here to rescue you, you, you, not you, and
you."
"I'm Tech Sgt. White. I'm here to rescue you, you, you, not you, and
you."
Thursday, January 13, 2005
State Champs of Crazy
Ladies and Gentlemen, your 2004 Alaska State Football Champions...
The Patriots of North Pole High School.
them Elves'll Hitchee.
And by the way, the Pats are just the second non-Anchorage team to ever win State.
The Patriots of North Pole High School.
them Elves'll Hitchee.
And by the way, the Pats are just the second non-Anchorage team to ever win State.
InFlight Emergency Crazy
an international airliner from Tokyo to Houston (and
seriously - you can KEEP that flight) diverted to Cold
Bay, Alaska - scroll down to find it.
(and here's a Cold Bay-meets-airplane link that defies description - throwing snow into the engine?)
My favorite bit is that the locals had to ferry the
passengers to the local gyms in their own cars and the town's only two school buses.
Now...not ONLY is this the second
Tokyo-to-a-Major-US-City flight to land here in 3
years, making the state's #2 destination for
international flights...
And not ONLY could the entire population of the
town (80) fit on the plane, probably, four times
over...
And not ONLY did most of the passengers not speak
English...
But they landed there because Cold Bay, Alaska
evidently has a Cold War (could there be another
kind?) runway built for bombers.
Which gives the town, by my math, 125ft of runway
per resident.
I'm gonna just close the nominations right now and
declare Cold Bay the undisputed World
Runway-Length-Per-Capita Champion.
seriously - you can KEEP that flight) diverted to Cold
Bay, Alaska - scroll down to find it.
(and here's a Cold Bay-meets-airplane link that defies description - throwing snow into the engine?)
My favorite bit is that the locals had to ferry the
passengers to the local gyms in their own cars and the town's only two school buses.
Now...not ONLY is this the second
Tokyo-to-a-Major-US-City flight to land here in 3
years, making the state's #2 destination for
international flights...
And not ONLY could the entire population of the
town (80) fit on the plane, probably, four times
over...
And not ONLY did most of the passengers not speak
English...
But they landed there because Cold Bay, Alaska
evidently has a Cold War (could there be another
kind?) runway built for bombers.
Which gives the town, by my math, 125ft of runway
per resident.
I'm gonna just close the nominations right now and
declare Cold Bay the undisputed World
Runway-Length-Per-Capita Champion.
Shakin it like Crazy
Yesterday an anchorage study of it's disaster readiness concluded the city is vastly underprepared for a major earthquake. In 1964 a quake literally destroyed most of the city, the rebuilding of which Danny, Mandy and I all agree accounts for the Soviet-level of ugly achitecture that now litters the town).
They said some sections of the city could expect to be without power for a month.
That's a rather stark claim for a city that spends 4 or more months hovering around 0. But here was the part that leaped out at me: Of the 15 largest earthquakes ever recorded on the planet, 10 were in alaska.
POST-TSUNAMI UPDATE!!!! Make that 10 of the last 16.
They said some sections of the city could expect to be without power for a month.
That's a rather stark claim for a city that spends 4 or more months hovering around 0. But here was the part that leaped out at me: Of the 15 largest earthquakes ever recorded on the planet, 10 were in alaska.
POST-TSUNAMI UPDATE!!!! Make that 10 of the last 16.
Be Crazy To Your School
We've got snow on the caps of the mountains out the
back door this morning. We had a light coat a week or
so ago, but it was hard to take that seriously when
the temps were back up in the 60s the following day,
sending locals running for their cars to bump up the
air condition.
And that reminds me of the mid-July moment when
I stood outside an auto repair shop, up drove the
shop's shuttle van, and out hopped an old timer,
having just dropped off somebody's car. He walked
inside the store and announced, "Whew! Man, you don't
realize how hot it is outside when you've got the A/C
on until you open that door. It just hits you like a
blast." It was about 72 with a nice breeze.
So there's that.
But this time the snow looks a little more determined and
its cold enough outside to get your fingers chilly, so
I think it's got a chance to stay.
To the Crazy update:
We're closing in on the State Football Playoffs in the
football season, with only two regular season games
left. Last week, as you might have heard, local
sports factory Service High went to Montana for a
game. And got beat 86-0.
But Service isn't my favorite team. I think my
favorite high school team just became the tiny 1A
fishing village of Aniak. Aniak is one of those
native villages which is also home to year-round
population of white fishermen.
And their kids take the field under the monicker of
the Aniak Halfbreeds.
When somebody told me that last week, I flat didn't
believe them. Google it yourself, it you like.
And here's another one, as promised in this
newsletter's charter, about dog mushing. And, in this
case, how much lots of people hate it.
Ya know, all i can say on this is that these people
are fighting the wrong fight. You don't have to learn
much about dog sledding to realize it isn't cruel at
all (though it's certainly Crazy), except to any
sensable nose. From personal experience, I can tell
you that if you get yourself passed on a ski trail by
a dog team, you're in for several minutes of
unbearable stink that wind doesn't help.
And per that article, it's particularly hard to
take seriously the anti-mushing efforts of anybody in
Florida.
and just for the heck of it, hockey players behaving
badly.
back door this morning. We had a light coat a week or
so ago, but it was hard to take that seriously when
the temps were back up in the 60s the following day,
sending locals running for their cars to bump up the
air condition.
And that reminds me of the mid-July moment when
I stood outside an auto repair shop, up drove the
shop's shuttle van, and out hopped an old timer,
having just dropped off somebody's car. He walked
inside the store and announced, "Whew! Man, you don't
realize how hot it is outside when you've got the A/C
on until you open that door. It just hits you like a
blast." It was about 72 with a nice breeze.
So there's that.
But this time the snow looks a little more determined and
its cold enough outside to get your fingers chilly, so
I think it's got a chance to stay.
To the Crazy update:
We're closing in on the State Football Playoffs in the
football season, with only two regular season games
left. Last week, as you might have heard, local
sports factory Service High went to Montana for a
game. And got beat 86-0.
But Service isn't my favorite team. I think my
favorite high school team just became the tiny 1A
fishing village of Aniak. Aniak is one of those
native villages which is also home to year-round
population of white fishermen.
And their kids take the field under the monicker of
the Aniak Halfbreeds.
When somebody told me that last week, I flat didn't
believe them. Google it yourself, it you like.
And here's another one, as promised in this
newsletter's charter, about dog mushing. And, in this
case, how much lots of people hate it.
Ya know, all i can say on this is that these people
are fighting the wrong fight. You don't have to learn
much about dog sledding to realize it isn't cruel at
all (though it's certainly Crazy), except to any
sensable nose. From personal experience, I can tell
you that if you get yourself passed on a ski trail by
a dog team, you're in for several minutes of
unbearable stink that wind doesn't help.
And per that article, it's particularly hard to
take seriously the anti-mushing efforts of anybody in
Florida.
and just for the heck of it, hockey players behaving
badly.
Crazy on DVD
Some more on the DVD marauder:
And proud to say Mandy and I spotted these a month ago on a walk back on these trails. (and don't miss the part where the guy calls Anchorage a 'metropolis')"
And proud to say Mandy and I spotted these a month ago on a walk back on these trails. (and don't miss the part where the guy calls Anchorage a 'metropolis')"
Crazy Fish
- Mandy and I went Halibut fishing a few weeks ago and
she caught a 70 pounder. That was good, best on our
boat. It took her 30 minutes and a week's worth of
sore arm to drag it aboard.
Not near impressive as this woman.
she caught a 70 pounder. That was good, best on our
boat. It took her 30 minutes and a week's worth of
sore arm to drag it aboard.
Not near impressive as this woman.
Quick Crazy
A few quick Crazy eruptions:
- We're keeping our elephant. Phew.
I will most DEFINITELY let you know when the
world's first elephant treadmill arrives.
With wrist-snapping force are we pushing back the
walls of legal history in the 48th state.
we just tried, and acquited, the first murder case
in the entire nation where the defendent was charged
with murder for causing a fatal traffic wreck because
he was watching a DVD in his car.
A guy in Kenai - right next to Soldotna, home to the
patriotic water-thrower - did some bad driving and
killed a couple of old people. And he did have a DVD
in his car, which COULD be viewed from the drivers
seat.
By the way, none of that, including the act of
watching TV while driving, is illegal in the 49th
State.
So the prosecutor wrung him up for Murder.
Apparently, the DA failed to present any evidence
that he was actually watching the TV.
So he walked.
Now, i see that logic, but i kinda have to squint
because... he absolutely killed those people. Not a
contested fact.
But he killed them while NOT watching TV, so it's
not murder. hmmm....
Pay special attention to the parts about the
winking cops.
- We're keeping our elephant. Phew.
I will most DEFINITELY let you know when the
world's first elephant treadmill arrives.
With wrist-snapping force are we pushing back the
walls of legal history in the 48th state.
we just tried, and acquited, the first murder case
in the entire nation where the defendent was charged
with murder for causing a fatal traffic wreck because
he was watching a DVD in his car.
A guy in Kenai - right next to Soldotna, home to the
patriotic water-thrower - did some bad driving and
killed a couple of old people. And he did have a DVD
in his car, which COULD be viewed from the drivers
seat.
By the way, none of that, including the act of
watching TV while driving, is illegal in the 49th
State.
So the prosecutor wrung him up for Murder.
Apparently, the DA failed to present any evidence
that he was actually watching the TV.
So he walked.
Now, i see that logic, but i kinda have to squint
because... he absolutely killed those people. Not a
contested fact.
But he killed them while NOT watching TV, so it's
not murder. hmmm....
Pay special attention to the parts about the
winking cops.
Crazy Crazy
So It's 1pm and I just woke up for the very reasonable
reason, i think, that I flew all last night on a
distinctly Alaskan rescue mission. We found our way
out towards Glenallen, for those of you who speak
Alaska-WhereAboots, at 3am.
We (where "we" = 20 members of the national guard and
two of our airplanes) were sent out there to recover
a guy who managed to crash his truck in a corner of
Alaska 400 miles from a hospital (ie, most of Alaska).
He was good and beat up - broken-ish back,
broken-for-sure-ribs, etc. Defintely got his money's
worth out of the crash. But nothing that you wouldn't
see twice a night on an ambulance in any fair-sized
city.
But what makes for a 20 minute,
don't-bother-with-the-sirens EMS run in Charlotte, in
Alaska is literally the starting bell to call out the
National Guard.
My cell phone started hopping off the kitchen
counter at 11:40 last night. We landed back home just
after 5am.
Most fun, though, was, due to the late hour and the
late date in summer, the flight was the very first for
every single member of both crews in darkness since
April. There simply is no darkness to fly through in
Alaska during summer months until - well, until right
about last night, actually.
That made for a keystone-cops episode of medical
work in the back. If you had emptied the contents of
a hospital's dumpster into the back of our Blackhawk,
there wouldn't have been more junk (on the other hand,
if you've never stuck an IV by the light of a mini-mag
flashlight held in your teeth, then, fancy degree or
no, you don't really practice medicine. there, I said
it). But far more important, it made for a whole lot
of 'Is that the ground?'-kind of talk from the pilots
(yes, they had night vision goggles, and no, that's no
guarantee).
They spent most of the flight comparing it to
flying in Afghanistan, which is a little like a rock
critic comparing an album to Hall and Oates.
Our crew and our friend the bad driver arrived at
our Anchorage area hospital at 5am, give or take. He
was given a breathalizer test. The accident had
happened prior to 10pm the night before.
That's, minimum, 7 hours to dry up.
He blew a 0.08.
reason, i think, that I flew all last night on a
distinctly Alaskan rescue mission. We found our way
out towards Glenallen, for those of you who speak
Alaska-WhereAboots, at 3am.
We (where "we" = 20 members of the national guard and
two of our airplanes) were sent out there to recover
a guy who managed to crash his truck in a corner of
Alaska 400 miles from a hospital (ie, most of Alaska).
He was good and beat up - broken-ish back,
broken-for-sure-ribs, etc. Defintely got his money's
worth out of the crash. But nothing that you wouldn't
see twice a night on an ambulance in any fair-sized
city.
But what makes for a 20 minute,
don't-bother-with-the-sirens EMS run in Charlotte, in
Alaska is literally the starting bell to call out the
National Guard.
My cell phone started hopping off the kitchen
counter at 11:40 last night. We landed back home just
after 5am.
Most fun, though, was, due to the late hour and the
late date in summer, the flight was the very first for
every single member of both crews in darkness since
April. There simply is no darkness to fly through in
Alaska during summer months until - well, until right
about last night, actually.
That made for a keystone-cops episode of medical
work in the back. If you had emptied the contents of
a hospital's dumpster into the back of our Blackhawk,
there wouldn't have been more junk (on the other hand,
if you've never stuck an IV by the light of a mini-mag
flashlight held in your teeth, then, fancy degree or
no, you don't really practice medicine. there, I said
it). But far more important, it made for a whole lot
of 'Is that the ground?'-kind of talk from the pilots
(yes, they had night vision goggles, and no, that's no
guarantee).
They spent most of the flight comparing it to
flying in Afghanistan, which is a little like a rock
critic comparing an album to Hall and Oates.
Our crew and our friend the bad driver arrived at
our Anchorage area hospital at 5am, give or take. He
was given a breathalizer test. The accident had
happened prior to 10pm the night before.
That's, minimum, 7 hours to dry up.
He blew a 0.08.
Doing the Crazy Chicken
Talking to a native Alaskan about the Fairbanks-area town of Fox, which led to animal-named Alaska towns, which led to the infamous Chicken (if you've missed it, a huge forest fire from the summer came to be known as the Chicken fire for its proximity to the town)
'You know why they named their town Chicken?' he asked.
'Why?'
'Because they got tired of not being able to spell Ptarmigan.'
Man. I hope that's true.
'You know why they named their town Chicken?' he asked.
'Why?'
'Because they got tired of not being able to spell Ptarmigan.'
Man. I hope that's true.
Even the dead are Crazy
I, like everybody else who goes up there, camped right there. My understanding is, one of my friends who is up there now was on the dig-up team.
Crazy and Reagan
I guess my sense of Alaskan history isn't what I
thought it was. But with Reagan's death, there has
been some discussion here lately of... well, let me
set the scene.
You may have heard of Fairbanks, AK. It's the
state's #2 city, sits 400 miles into the interior of
the state from Anchorage, and is renowned for it's
crushing, relentless winter cold. Temps at or below -40 are
not unusual (that's when the Air Force base there,
Eielson, shuts down) and entire months come and go
with it never getting above -20.
Fairbanks isn't the coldest spot in the state, but
only indians and oil workers live where it's any
colder.
It is also far enough north that it can claim to
have months when the sun never sets and, alternately,
never rises (here in Anchorage, the longest day of the
year is about 20 hours).
Hunting in the area is the state's best, but as you
might imagine, Fairbanks, as a city, is not much to
see. A beat up downtown, some surrounding
neighborhoods and even one or two 'bedroom communties'
that sort of qualify as suburbs (including North
Pole).
But not exactly Rome.
And speaking of Rome, i hope you can all recall
where our current President was when he got The News
about The Gipper. He was in Rome, meeting with the
Pope.
(and how funny was that? The Prez, mid-war, shows
up and gives the pope the "Medal of Freedom" and the
Pope promptly spends the hour yelling at him like a
grade school principle, and spends the rest of the
week doing a Triumph The Insult Dog routine on Dubya,
the war and the whole country in general. Hilarious).
So that meeting - Most Powerful Man on
Earth-meets-the Pope - took place at the Vatican,
which we can all agree, seems an appropriate setting.
I'm not sure I'd say the same about Fairbanks. But
apparently, His Holiness and The Gipper would.
thought it was. But with Reagan's death, there has
been some discussion here lately of... well, let me
set the scene.
You may have heard of Fairbanks, AK. It's the
state's #2 city, sits 400 miles into the interior of
the state from Anchorage, and is renowned for it's
crushing, relentless winter cold. Temps at or below -40 are
not unusual (that's when the Air Force base there,
Eielson, shuts down) and entire months come and go
with it never getting above -20.
Fairbanks isn't the coldest spot in the state, but
only indians and oil workers live where it's any
colder.
It is also far enough north that it can claim to
have months when the sun never sets and, alternately,
never rises (here in Anchorage, the longest day of the
year is about 20 hours).
Hunting in the area is the state's best, but as you
might imagine, Fairbanks, as a city, is not much to
see. A beat up downtown, some surrounding
neighborhoods and even one or two 'bedroom communties'
that sort of qualify as suburbs (including North
Pole).
But not exactly Rome.
And speaking of Rome, i hope you can all recall
where our current President was when he got The News
about The Gipper. He was in Rome, meeting with the
Pope.
(and how funny was that? The Prez, mid-war, shows
up and gives the pope the "Medal of Freedom" and the
Pope promptly spends the hour yelling at him like a
grade school principle, and spends the rest of the
week doing a Triumph The Insult Dog routine on Dubya,
the war and the whole country in general. Hilarious).
So that meeting - Most Powerful Man on
Earth-meets-the Pope - took place at the Vatican,
which we can all agree, seems an appropriate setting.
I'm not sure I'd say the same about Fairbanks. But
apparently, His Holiness and The Gipper would.
Springtime for Crazy
today at work we met with our E/R doctor who is our medical controlling authority. he said he knew yesterday was the first day of spring because he treated his first motorcycle crash of the year.
and here's an update on the, pound for pound, second-craziest guy in the state, behind only the snowmobile-skiiers of the Arctic Man.
of the 13 'Muzzle' awards given out by this organization - awarded to people or organizations who have worked to violate free speech over the last year - our guy is one of only two individuals."
and here's an update on the, pound for pound, second-craziest guy in the state, behind only the snowmobile-skiiers of the Arctic Man.
of the 13 'Muzzle' awards given out by this organization - awarded to people or organizations who have worked to violate free speech over the last year - our guy is one of only two individuals."
March Madness? Nope. Just Crazy.
Yesterday in the Alaska State basketball tournment, Barrow High took on Mt. Edgecumbe, a private school from Sitka, a small town near the state capital of Juneau. Barrow, you may have heard, is on Alaska's northern coast, and the home of the oil industry which services Prudoe Bay, North America's largest oil deposit. The sun stays below the horizon 24 hours a day for 2 months every year in Barrow. Sitka, like Juneau, sits well down the southeastern arm of the state, which runs much like a vertical panhandle down the western side of Canada, halfway to Washington.
The schools are 1,300 miles apart.
While Barrow was playing Mt Edgecumbe, 32 college teams were playing 16 games in the NCAA basketball tournment. Only 6 of those games featured teams from campuses farther apart than the two Alaska schools.
Barrow and Mt. Edgecumber are about the same distance apart as Thursday-opponents Air Force and North Carolina, Princeton and Texas, and Stanford and UTEP.
Of course, you can drive between all those schools. To get to Sitka, you must take a boat. You CAN drive to Barrow, barely, but there's really only two reasons to do so, because, as Barrow's head coach says:
'There are only two season in Barrow. Whaling season and basketball season."
And he backed it up, too: Barrow 55, Mt. Edgecumbe 47.
The schools are 1,300 miles apart.
While Barrow was playing Mt Edgecumbe, 32 college teams were playing 16 games in the NCAA basketball tournment. Only 6 of those games featured teams from campuses farther apart than the two Alaska schools.
Barrow and Mt. Edgecumber are about the same distance apart as Thursday-opponents Air Force and North Carolina, Princeton and Texas, and Stanford and UTEP.
Of course, you can drive between all those schools. To get to Sitka, you must take a boat. You CAN drive to Barrow, barely, but there's really only two reasons to do so, because, as Barrow's head coach says:
'There are only two season in Barrow. Whaling season and basketball season."
And he backed it up, too: Barrow 55, Mt. Edgecumbe 47.
Can't Spell Crazy Without An E
first off, Anchorage Area Man Danny found himself at a youth (6th grade, more or less) hockey game in Palmer, which is a town (versus Anhcorage's 'city') that marks the line between 'developed' Alaska and rural Alaska, and is the one area of the state with a major farming community - though, for obvious reasons, that's a summer-only activity.
And of the 20 or so kids on the ice, he said the 4 who stood out and dominated - skated better and faster, better stick skills, just flat better hockey players - were three or four Mexican kids.
he said they even had a cheering section of family and friends who carried on strictly in Spanish.
maybe hockey-star Hispanics shouldn't surprise me - afterall, the Stanley Cup came to Anchorage last year thanks to NHL player and Anchorage-native Scotty Gomez.
But Mandy and I went to the mall yesterday with the temperature in the low 20s, and i saw more people in shorts (1) than i did Hispanics.
maybe that makes me racist, but at least i'm in good company cuz elsewhere yesterday, no less than US Senator John McCain let loose one of the most vicious, hateful, not-worthy-of-George-Wallace slurs in the English language. yip, he said the E-word.
And of the 20 or so kids on the ice, he said the 4 who stood out and dominated - skated better and faster, better stick skills, just flat better hockey players - were three or four Mexican kids.
he said they even had a cheering section of family and friends who carried on strictly in Spanish.
maybe hockey-star Hispanics shouldn't surprise me - afterall, the Stanley Cup came to Anchorage last year thanks to NHL player and Anchorage-native Scotty Gomez.
But Mandy and I went to the mall yesterday with the temperature in the low 20s, and i saw more people in shorts (1) than i did Hispanics.
maybe that makes me racist, but at least i'm in good company cuz elsewhere yesterday, no less than US Senator John McCain let loose one of the most vicious, hateful, not-worthy-of-George-Wallace slurs in the English language. yip, he said the E-word.
"$200,000 for the City of North Pole, Alaska, for recreation improvements. I guess Santa had a tough year and the elves need a little help from the American taxpayer. "
Mushing I
"remember, one of the crazy-criteria was 'anything to do with dog-sledding''
Like this.
Or this.
i want to pull quotes out for you, just as a teaser, yet every paragraph is its own gem: lighters give out at -45; 'most' mushers voting to postpone because its too cold but 'also' because a guy broke his leg; touch a dog, stick your hand down pants, repeat; the guy who can't speak english; and, of course, bikini weather. matt"
Like this.
Or this.
i want to pull quotes out for you, just as a teaser, yet every paragraph is its own gem: lighters give out at -45; 'most' mushers voting to postpone because its too cold but 'also' because a guy broke his leg; touch a dog, stick your hand down pants, repeat; the guy who can't speak english; and, of course, bikini weather. matt"
Crazy, in the legal sense
been a while since I checked in with some of our local craziness, but i've been busy, climbing Mt. Crazy, AKA Denali, AKA Mt. McKinley, which has 7,000 vertical more feet of Crazy than anywhere in the other 49 states. In that sense, reaching the top is literally climbing to the pinnacle of Crazy.
I'll get around to recording the various feats and sights of lunacy soon.
on a far more somber note, here's some Crazy that even made the Drudge Report. here's a rather graphic - and very long - story about an ex-Alaskan, and former reporter for the Anchorage Daily News, and just TONS of Crazy. Unfortunately, that includes some pedophilia, so it may not be for all audiences.
I'll get around to recording the various feats and sights of lunacy soon.
on a far more somber note, here's some Crazy that even made the Drudge Report. here's a rather graphic - and very long - story about an ex-Alaskan, and former reporter for the Anchorage Daily News, and just TONS of Crazy. Unfortunately, that includes some pedophilia, so it may not be for all audiences.
Crazy Spring
It's Break Up here in the 49th state, which is how Alaskans say 'Spring.'
The term 'Break up' comes from the maritime concept of sea ice breaking up. Locally, the term means we've reached the time of year when the temps are now pretty much everyday over 40, and the streets disappear beneath the seemingly inexhaustible oceans of water produced by almost 200inches of snow melt.
But up north, on the Nanana River, there is a particular ritual of Break Up, and one more closely tied to the expression's true meaning. Just north of fairbanks, while the ice is still thick, the locals go out in the middle of the ice-clogged Nanana and plant a pole. They tie a string to the pole, and the other end of the string to a clock. When break up comes - when the ice literally begins to break up and move down stream, taking the pole with it - the string trips the clock.
The town sells shares in a betting pool to pick the exact moment - day, hour and minute - when the river trips the clock and 'breaks up.' It costs a few bucks to enter, and many people must, because the prize money is over $300,000
I don't know exactly how many people enter, but again, it must be quiet a few, because last year 66 people put down money that the Nanana River would officially 'break up' on one particular day: April 31st.
Now fire up your dayplanner and check what day of the week April 31st falls on.
The term 'Break up' comes from the maritime concept of sea ice breaking up. Locally, the term means we've reached the time of year when the temps are now pretty much everyday over 40, and the streets disappear beneath the seemingly inexhaustible oceans of water produced by almost 200inches of snow melt.
But up north, on the Nanana River, there is a particular ritual of Break Up, and one more closely tied to the expression's true meaning. Just north of fairbanks, while the ice is still thick, the locals go out in the middle of the ice-clogged Nanana and plant a pole. They tie a string to the pole, and the other end of the string to a clock. When break up comes - when the ice literally begins to break up and move down stream, taking the pole with it - the string trips the clock.
The town sells shares in a betting pool to pick the exact moment - day, hour and minute - when the river trips the clock and 'breaks up.' It costs a few bucks to enter, and many people must, because the prize money is over $300,000
I don't know exactly how many people enter, but again, it must be quiet a few, because last year 66 people put down money that the Nanana River would officially 'break up' on one particular day: April 31st.
Now fire up your dayplanner and check what day of the week April 31st falls on.
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