Columns 2006

I recently celebrated the 34th anniversary of the day I arrived in Alaska. The fact that I remember the date and celebrate it each year is probably indicative of how important it is in my life.

At a luncheon I attended soon after this anniversary, I was approached by someone who said that it was clear from what I wrote and said that I’d found my place in this state and had put down some pretty deep roots.  She asked what it was that had kept me here way past my initial two year commitment with Indian Health Service.

It’s

It is the 500th day of rain this year in Anchorage.  People are starting to look grim.  Mold and mildew are growing in the most unimaginable spots on animals and humans alike. When the sun occasionally breaks through the clouds, people react with horror at the bright yellow dot in the sky. What could it be?

This is not a good turn of events in a town where concealed weapons are as prevalent as lattes at Caf� Loco.  You want people who are carrying concealed weapons to be happy most of the time, not damp. 

Each morning, my little dog

I remember going down a river in China back in 1983 and turning to my sister and saying, “What’s missing here?” Something seemed odd or wrong.

It took a few minutes for me to figure it out. There were no birds flying, no sounds echoing from their songs and conversations. It was eerily silent.  Unfortunately, the birds came later on a plate.  Little song birds roasted whole and eaten whole, bones and all.  My sister spent a lot of time in China being a vegetarian.

The kind of silence I found on that river in China is a large part

My miniature schnauzer, Mr. T, has reached the ripe old age of 16 1/2 years old with no more or less in the way of problems that most of us would have at the equivalent human age.  Granted I spend more for his medicine in a month that for mine. And yes, neither one of us moves as fast as we once did.  But all things considered, he’s not doing badly at all.

When we take our daily walk, he moves slowly. Usually he is behind me at the end of the leash taking his time about the whole thing. 

The only words you need to define Alaska.

And so another piece of Alaskana bites the dust.  No longer will Alaskans be able to head to Spenard for some fried Spam and sleazy humor interspersed with juvenile political jokes that often were the only comic relief available during our seemingly interminable political seasons. We are left we nothing but the Daily Show and they don’t do song and dance half as well as Mr. Whitekeys and company. Besides, they never mention Alaska unless it involves Ted Stevens and, no offense to Uncle Ted, but he is hardly our funniest or most outrageous politician.  In Alaska, you have to

Ah yes. It’s my favorite excuse in the whole world, right up there with “the dog ate my homework”.  It is, of course, “Alcohol made me do it.” Isn’t there any personal responsibility left in this world? If we do something wrong, must we always find a scapegoat on which to fix the blame?

And so Mel Gibson comes out with the trite old saw that he isn’t anti-Semitic.  It was the alcohol talking.  Yet the words came out of his mouth.  Do you think there might be a reason alcohol chose Mel’s mouth for those remarks as opposed to

It is the year 2010. The war on terrorism continues unabated.  And airline travel has kept up with the need for tighter security with each passing year.  I am preparing to depart from Anchorage for a flight to the East Coast.

I drive my car to the parking lot in Wasilla, the nearest point private vehicles are allowed to Ted Stevens International.  Oops, I mean Ted Stevens National.  All international air travel must go through either Los Angeles or JFK in New York. Traveling to Europe or Asia now involves checking in two days in advance to get through all

In last week’s column, I spoke about the death rates in Bush Alaska and specifically in Alaska Native villages.  Their death rates for suicide, accidents, and drug or alcohol overdoses top the charts for Alaska.  In the lower 48, similar trends are evident on Native American reservations.

I find myself frequently listening with a sympathetic ear to people from the Bush as they attempt to work through these problems and possible solutions.  And I once again find myself staring at the big pink elephant in the middle of the room that no one wants to acknowledge.

Among the reasons we

It doesn’t take long for anyone living in Alaska to figure out that you lose friends and relatives here at a much greater rate than in the lower 48.  Part of this is attributable to the sometimes dangerous work people engage in.  But that alone cannot explain the discrepancy.

For many of us who come here from elsewhere, the obvious difference in the life span of people we know from Iowa or California or New Jersey versus the people in Alaska is just too great to lay at the doorstep of any one profession or lifestyle.

Those of us who