Arctic Thriller

This is awesome.



Read the story of the video at Chemical & Engineering News Online.

Coincidence?

The Alaska Ear reported this weekend that Sen. Mark Begich (D-Adorable) will move his Anchorage offices into the Peterson Tower, where Rep. Don Young and Sen. Lisa Murkowski already have offices. The Peterson Tower is literally blocks from my home, and even closer to Ye Olde Law Firm, where I still do some occasional contract work, so as you can imagine, this was kind of like a thirteen-year-old girl being told the Jonas Brothers were about to move in down the block.

Meanwhile, the Peterson Tower's entry has been under construction for weeks, and the closer it gets to being done, the more impassible it becomes. I'm particularly baffled by the concrete molded to look like brick pavers, in which the grooves between the "bricks" are just wide enough to fit the heels of all my shoes, which makes it a little bit challenging to pick my way across the sidewalk. I usually end up tiptoeing.

I've spent a couple of weeks wondering about this aesthetic decision, which I perceived as a design flaw, or perhaps just a temporary measure (like, maybe they'll fill it in with some decorative mortar? Because otherwise, why not just dig an effing moat?). Now that I know Senator Mark's moving in, however, it makes more sense. Clearly, once the Peterson Tower management knew who their newest tenant was going to be, they felt it would be in their best interest to put in some kind of deterrent to the crazed, kitten-heeled fangirls who would almost certainly begin descending when the Senate recessed and the Begich entourage pulled up to Fifth and L.

The unfortunate casualties in this situation are, of course, the heel-wearing women who live and work in the Peterson Tower, and who will have to traverse this obstacle course of a walkway twice a day or more. I'd feel sorry for them if they didn't work under the same roof as Mark Begich. I'm not worried about Sen. Murkowski (once she's back on her feet); she's one of the few women in this town who can make a sensible shoe look chic.

Don’t Cry For Me, Dr. Suzuki

This morning our good pal Gov. Sarah Palin shocked the heck out of everyone by announcing she’ll step down in a few weeks. Her reasoning goes, in part:

Once I decided not to run for re-election, I also felt that to embrace the conventional “Lame Duck” status in this particular climate would just be another dose of “politics as usual,” something I campaigned against and will always oppose. It is my duty to always protect our great state. With that in mind, my family and I determined that it is best to make a difference this summer, and I am willing to change things, so that this administration, with its positive agenda, its accomplishments, and its successful road to an incredible future, can continue without interruption and with great administrative and legislative success.

Technically, the governor is correct; finishing out the term to which one is elected is, in fact, “politics as usual.” Of course, it’s not really the kind of “politics as usual” most Americans find distasteful, as it is pretty much the minimum standard expectation that a politician who asks for a job will actually fulfill the terms of the position.

On the other hand, I appreciate the logic of the governor’s position that she loves Alaska so much that the best thing she can do for the state is quit running it. Sometimes you just love an activity so much that the best thing you can do for that activity is quit participating in it in order to promote it from the outside. Personally, I have had to make this decision myself on many, many occasions over the years. You might call it being a quitter, but I call it thinking outside the box.

The following is a list of organizations and activities that I have loved so much, and so dearly, that I was forced to stop participating in them in order to more fully advance their respective agendas and priorities:

• Boys & Girls Club soccer (1990)
• Violin lessons (1991)
• The clarinet (1991)
  
• Wendler Junior High School cross-country running team (1991)
• Girl Scouts (1992)
• Dance class (1993)
  
• Competitive swimming (1993)
• Competitive cross-country skiing (1993)
• Arctic Spirit Handbell Choir (1994)
• The tenor saxophone (1994)
  
• East High School Russian Club (1995)
• East High School Amnesty International Club (1995)
• University of Portland Chamber Ensemble (1997)
• University of Portland Community Orchestra (1998)
  

This list is, of course, far from comprehensive. My parents are still kind of mad about a few of these (apparently when people shell out for eight years of Suzuki violin lessons they expect you to keep at it), but I honestly believe they just fail to see the value of my resignation in continuing to grow and promote these activities from the outside. People who know me know that, besides faith and family, nothing’s more important to me than the Suzuki method, and it was clear to me by 1991 that I could best advocate for the violin by switching to the oboe.

It is my sincere hope that the groups and organizations listed above, as well as the many others to which I have tendered my resignation over the years, understand and appreciate that they have been strengthened and improved by my departure.

After all, what use is a lame duck violinist?

Edward Sitkahands

Southeast Alaska is buzzing with rumors of Johnny Depp sightings. Among the rumors in the air:

• He’s hanging out in Juneau.
  
• His sailboat is moored in Auke Bay.
• He was at a Ketchikan restaurant until 4 a.m. so he tipped the waiter $4,000.
  

Johnny Depp, if you happen to be reading this (or if you read this and then you happen to see Johnny Depp): Come to Anchorage. I have a chicken defrosting in the fridge, a nice bottle of wine, and a whole lot of macadamia nuts left over from Hawaii. I promise not to ask you any questions about what it was like to work with Leonardo DiCaprio before he got all weird and creepy and forgot how to act.

The Race Is On (And Off)

This just in: Hollis French is thinking about running for governor. In other news, the sky is blue, Dan Sullivan drinks beer, and Friendster is totally over.

There has been some disappointing news out of the 2010 gubernatorial race, however; apparently, APOC is reporting that failed mayoral candidate (and another proud alumnus of Rogers Park Elementary School) Jacob Seth Kern has pulled out of the race, although he may reenter at some point. This may be a prudent decision on his part in terms of personal and financial investment (APOC lists no donations to his campaign), but the 85 people who voted for him in the mayoral election (well, probably 84, assuming he voted for himself) will be sorry to see him off the ticket, and so will I. Nothing spices up a gubernatorial debate like some crazy yellow glasses and talk of magical wireless energy machines.

Honestly, we’re going to need all our strength to get through yet another election. And if we can’t have this:



I’ll settle for this:

Forking Salmon

Confession: I don’t really like fish. I know. Worst Alaskan ever. And let me tell you, growing up with parents who believed in (and enjoyed, and insisted on) harvesting the bounty of the sea was no picnic. I could spend all day telling you about the many nights I spent sitting at the dining room table, steadfastly refusing to eat the TWO BITES of salmon it would have taken to set me free, or the Fridays during Lent when I would go hungry rather than choke down halibut. Once I went to a barbecue with friends and tried a grilled fish I was told was “white salmon.” I came home and told my parents I had discovered a fish I actually liked and they insisted this fish did not exist and I must have gotten confused. Because people routinely confuse halibut with salmon. I was, even at a young age, an expert on texture when it came to foods I didn’t like, and I knew I was right, but let the matter drop, and perhaps we shall never know what I really ate that day. Way to miss an opportunity to make me like fish, Mom and Dad.

Ahem. Moving on.

For many years it was easy to turn down fish because I didn’t eat meat, and to me that included fish. (Side Note: Some people are confused on the whole do-vegetarians-eat-fish issue. I’m not into labels, and some people who self-identify as vegetarians do, in fact, eat fish — but I am into technicalities, and technically there’s a word for those people. They’re called pescatarians.) But then, last year, I started eating meat again, and it dawned on me that while I love me some steak, if I were going to eat animals, the right thing to do would be to learn to like fish. It’s healthy (all those Omega-3 fatty acids), it’s sustainable, it’s good for the local economy, and the part of me that still feels a little weird about eating something that used to be alive likes the fact that a wild salmon has a good life (and a fighting chance) before it’s caught. So I started trying to like seafood.

The good news is that fish isn’t nearly as heinous and revolting as I thought it was when I was a kid. The bad news is that it still tastes and feels like fish. But (see “good news,” above) I’m making progress. I’ll even go so far as to say that salmon is kind of tasty. If it’s grilled. (Side Note: I may just be tasting grill marks. But at least they’re healthy, locally-caught grill marks.)

Which brings me to my point. (You knew I’d get there eventually. I almost always do.) Tomorrow, Trout Unlimited and Arctic Choice Seafoods will be giving away free samples of Bristol Bay salmon at the South Anchorage Farmers’ Market in an effort to promote wild Bristol Bay salmon and raise awareness of the potential impact of the Pebble Mine on the fishery. The idea is to show support for the Bristol Bay fishing industry by “voting with your fork.” You can also show support for local farmers — not by voting with your fork, so much, but by paying with your cash for fresh, locally-grown produce (organic snow apple turnip, anyone?). According to SAFM market reporter Alison Arians, chefs from Sacks Café will be there part of the day, grilling fish, so you know it will be tasty. You know, if you’re into that kind of thing. Which I’m trying to be.

(As for you, however, shellfish: You can go straight to hell. If you want me to eat you, you should stop smelling like something that died in my locker. I don’t care how much drawn butter you serve alongside it; a slime mold is still a slime mold.)

What MLB Wasn’t Doing In Undergrad

MLB is at his college reunion this weekend. Last night, as I was preparing to head out for a rare night out sans boyfriend (a gathering at which I was, I think, the only person at the table who has never worked at the Anchorage Press. Side Note: Do you know what happens when you’re hanging out with a decade’s worth of alternative media alumni? People jump up to talk to strangers at the next table because they need sources for a story about Middle Eastern Anchorageites, you drink a vodka shot out of a Dixie cup, Eddie P. and Kiddie Fox stop by your table to say hello, and then you spend the rest of the night trying to get the “Tiny Toons Adventures” theme song out of your head), I received a text message from MLB, somewhere in the Midwest, partying like it was 1999:

Jfc, it’s 1000% just like college.

So I texted back:

NO HOOKING UP.

To which MLB promptly replied:

Like I said, just like college.

Awww.