Columns 2006

There is little in this world that is as brilliantly white as the tundra in spring when the sun is shinning brightly.  In fact, the only thing that can possibly be called whiter is the pack ice shimmering under that same insane sun.  Like everything else in life, it doesn’t necessarily look that white when you get up close to it.  In fact, the pack ice becomes a jumble of old ice, new ice, blue ice and grey ice, boulders tumbled around like grains of sand kicked by a child on a beach. 

This year, Barrow has had some storms

The story is one we are all sadly familiar with at this point.  Man steals truck, races madly through streets full of traffic, runs a red light and kills a father of three.  A tragic story with tragic consequences that leaves behind unbelievable pain and loss.

So it was with some interest that I read the lead story in the Anchorage Daily News on February 26 about this man, Kris Felber. And when I was done, I put my paper down and wondered why anyone ever thought he had a snowball’s chance in hell of his life turning out any

It’s one of those silly discussions that periodically convulse the world of competitive figure skating. At the last Olympics, it was all about the judging and the numbers and the fact that kings and queens were crowned long before the competition actually took place.

So the ice skating world heaved it hoar encrusted body enough to create a new set of rules for judging competitions.  And then promptly figured out a way to use them to still crown a preconceived winner before a blade has hit Olympic ice.  Was there anyone who tuned into the Olympics for even a minute

A few years ago, Robert Mapplethorpe created a piece of “art” that consisted of a photograph of a crucifix in urine.  I think it would be fair to say that just reading those words causes a little shudder to run through most people who find the whole symbolism disgusting and sacrilegious. 

For most of us, Mr. Mapplethorpe is probably never going to really be an artist whose work we might want in our homes.  For most of us, he might not even rise to the level of artist.  Having read all the reviews of his work and photography, and viewed

In an ideal world, I’d be an effortless size four while eating my weight in carbs daily.  My birds would clean their own messes and my dog would never grow old.  People would not use the name of a god they claim is loving and merciful as an excuse to torture and kill everyone who disagrees with them.  And kids would all be raised by Ozzie and Harriet in a neat little suburb where their worse problem would be the occasional pimple.

But we don’t live in that ideal world.  I am nowhere near a size four and my birds

Growing up, two very dear women I knew and loved died of cancer.  One died of breast cancer and one died of uterine cancer.  Both died quickly, as though death were easier than continuing to live.

One of these women was married to a wonderful man who happened to be gay at a time when men from the coal mining regions of Pennsylvania simply weren’t. For over thirty years they kept this secret.  She produced three children and then moved from her husband’s bed to her daughter’s. By the time she showed her misshapen breasts to someone, it was way

It’s become one of those trite truisms that all we ever needed to know we learned in kindergarten.  I don’t quite agree with that since I’ve never actually seen a kindergarten kid filling out a tax form.  But I do believe that we should have learned one of our most important lessons there, and that is to play and work well with others.

In that spirit, and to help the dental society avoid anymore of those large, costly ads they are running about the proposed dental health aide program, let me make a suggestion that perhaps will help us get

There is a scene in one episode of the show “Everybody Loves Raymond” where his brother’s new girlfriend is finding out for the first time just how crazy the family can be.  Ray’s wife comments that she sometimes forgets how weird the family is until a new person comes into their lives and looks at them with horror. She adds, “And now I’m one of them.”

Sometimes I feel that way about being an Alaskan.  I don’t realize how strange some things are here until I hear them described by someone from outside who has arrived in our state recently