HAIR & MAKEUP BY ANNA-KATHERINE ELIZABETH (BROWNLEE) MARTINEZ

Photo by Auntie Jewel.

BLAHGS

I've grown increasingly cynical about blogs ever since I first heard of them. Mostly because the only blogs I've ever tried to follow are written by people close to me, and it's difficult to be captivated reading information for which you could just as easily (and more rewardingly) make a phonecall. Another blog grievance I couldn't have known without maintaining a blog is that people like me are a real nuisance to bloggers--we won't read the blog because we want the news from the horse's mouth in order to feel actively engaged in the blogger's life. A genuine sentiment, but it somewhat dampens the enthusiasm for the blogging process since the blogger feels no one is reading at all.

So The Real Challenge for bloggers is to write engaging and un-cryptic material for new readers, extra-conversational material for current friends and family, and material that isn't soul-killing to the writer herself--all in one breath. I hope whoever's reading this appreciates the arduous extremes implicit in this task. On the other hand, I have no choice, since not only am I bored with writing blogs, I wouldn't even be interested in reading my blog. A desperate and symbiotic vortex...

Here, then, is the beginning of creating blogs I would have a remote interest in viewing...

ALASKA, AKA: PERSPECTIVE

Sometimes people who never got over their teens are great at getting over some of the most amazing once-in-a-lifetime experiences.

Like riding on a car elevator to park on the upper deck of a 3-day ferry. Pitching your tent on the deck and getting so rained out that you resign to the plentiful deckchairs (which you find are much more comfortable--if you're under 6' long). Wandering into the ship's bar and finding a trumpet-player and pianist from the army band rocking out in the most inviting ways to songs like "Killing Me Softly" and "Yankee Doodle," and adding guitar and banjo to their midst. Watching live orcas cruise by without a care. Watching every traveler drop drinks, games, books and children to rush to the rail at the mere whisper of the word, "whale."

Like meeting a pilot in Takeetna and flying standby around the top of Mt McKinley at 20,000 ft. Or inviting just about every musician in town to jam with us on the stage of the Fairview and culminating in a band of 2 guitars, a washtub bass, 1 djimbe, 1 cajon, mandolin, fiddle, banjo, cello, melodica, harmonica, egg, tambourine, washboard, at least 6 singers and at least 10 dancers (www.reverbnation.com/sugarstrings) (www.youtube.com/watch?v=3TouWUXq1XM). Getting a $60 tip for having that much fun and buying a round of PBR's for all the musicians. Staying at one of the homiest hostels since the Juggler's Rest in Picton, NZ (www.talkeetnahostel.com/).

Or camping somewhat illegitimately on a riverbeach it seems only 2 other people in Denali know how to get to. Coming up with a new scheme for portaiteering and finding an unopened pale ale that someone had left to chill in the shallows.

I may be a spoiled teenager...but I think it's easy for anyone to take their present circumstances for granted...just God help me if I don't snap out of it once in a while...