Birthday Boy

It's been a while since I posted any news related videos. This is some serious morning fluff right here. I had a nice surprise on my birthday when I got not one, but two birthday cakes. 

While I did go home and fall asleep at 7:30 that night, I still had a good birthday. Thanks everyone. 

29

I could use this opportunity to moan about the weight I've gained, fret about the hair I've lost, whine about the dental work I need, worry about the wrinkles that are showing, and generally lament the passing of my youth. But I won't. Besides, that old adage "age is just a number" is pretty accurate. I still feel young...and there are probably thousands of 30-60 year olds out there who'd like to punch me in the face when I say, "I'm getting old."

Instead of all that, let's focus on the positive. I feel pretty good about what I've accomplished in my 29 years. Friends, family, my job...I'm proud of it all. But more than anything, I'm proud of the exploring I've done. To some, it's a lot. To others, it's minimal. To me...it's formed my identity. While I've "settled down" a bit in the past few years...I'm making a vow to myself on my 29th birthday. I'm not finished exploring. I encourage everyone else to do the same. I think it's what life should be about. 

Missing Out

Is there a pattern forming?

Go to Montana for a little vacation. Leave. Watch from afar as a "big" story develops and wish I could be there to cover it.

I drove to Bozeman/Big Sky over the weekend. Spent time with old friends, visited some old haunts, and gawked a little at this:

That's what's left of an explosion that ripped through downtown Bozeman in early March. I would have loved to cover it as a reporter.

Fast forward to yesterday. I left Big Sky at about 3:30 in the afternoon headed back home to Boise. I didn't know it yet but a small plane had already crashed in Butte killing 14 people. I got a couple text messages as I drove through eastern Idaho telling me about it. When I worked in Montana I worked for "Butte & Bozeman's News Channel." I've covered plenty of stories in Butte...none as big as this one. I'm not going to dwell on it...but I'm disappointed. 

I'm also disappointed in my snowboarding performance at Big Sky. I took three runs on Sunday before I caught an edge and did a chest plant into the snow. It knocked the wind out of me and I just lay there on the slope for a while trying to get my breath back. After that, I was in no mood to ride. I went down to the bar with Mike and Beth and spent the next two hours over beer and nachos. As for my wipeout, it turns out it was more of a shoulder/chest plant because my right shoulder is killing me today. 

Still, I had a good time. 

Oh..and thank God for satellite radio. I'm not quite sure how I survived long drives without it. I love Sirius. 

Internal Monologue

It's 6:40 pm. I'm sitting here at work on the computer. For the time being, I'm filling in on weather every other Saturday. I'm fine with that. There's a 5:30 show and a 10 o'clock show. Working this shift brings back memories of my days in Bozeman. The time between shows was usually my favorite time of the day. It was breathing time. I could do whatever I wanted. Maybe take my time getting the 10 o'clock show ready. Perhaps go out for a bite to eat. Even get in a nap every now and then. There were plenty of nights where breaking news ruled the day but for the most part...it was relaxation time. I can't believe that was more than a year ago. I can't believe I'm smack dab in the middle of another chapter to my life. It's amazing how fast time can go by. It astonishes me to see how life happens. I remember being in Bozeman and thinking about just two life chapters. There was Glacier. There was the present (being Bozeman). There was the seasonal life. There was real life. Now...Glacier is TWO chapters ago. TWO!! That weirds me out. Before I know it I'll be done in Boise. At least, I think. I have no idea what's going to happen March 1, 2010 (my contract expiration date), but I suspect I may leave Boise. I could be proven wrong. But I haven't really found anything here to keep me. I've learned a lot at my current job...but I don't want to stay in my position forever. Boise is a nice place but I'm more attached to other locales. I've met a couple close friends and plenty of acquaintances...but my closest ties are elsewhere. The big question is where I will end up. Let's just forget a crappy economy right now. It really effects movement within the TV industry. For the sake of argument, let's just say things have turned around by next year. I guess I could keep climbing the ladder...or at least keep trying. I suppose I wouldn't rule anything out. I'm not above going to a less desirable location if some money was thrown at me. But it would have to be a lot. More likely is me looking for a better job in a place that attracts me. Portland is at the top of my list. It's a hard TV market to get to. Many people want to work there. And getting an ANCHOR job...just might prove impossible. But I'll probably try. Salt Lake is another option. My ENTIRE family is there. It would be nice (and maybe slightly annoying) to live close to them all again. Again, an anchor job would be hard to come by but it seems more likely than Portland. I'd consider Denver. I'd consider Seattle. I'd consider San Diego. I'd consider San Francisco. I'd consider Austin. I'd consider Raleigh. I'd consider Asheville. I'd consider Portland, Maine. I'd consider Burlington, Vermont. I'd consider a few places in Florida. And unlikely though they may be, I'd consider New York, Chicago, or Philidelphia. Those are all places I'd actually seek out. The other big cities in this country (LA, Houston, Dallas, etc.) don't appeal to me. Again, throw some money at me and I might bite. But...fewer people are making more money in this business. And yes, I want an anchor job. I don't want to be a reporter. I've learned some things about myself in the last three years and I know I'm not a fan of general assignment reporting. I LOVE breaking news. But it's not ever-present. I LOVE feature reporting...but feature reporters are becoming extinct. More likely than not, if things worked out reasonably well, I'd end up as a morning anchor or weekend anchor/weekday reporter in a bigger city. As for anchoring, I like it. I realize most people just see it as reading the news. On the surface, that's all it is. But there's something about it that I like. I've been lucky enough to be an anchor in both of my TV jobs. I've reported as well, but "anchor" has always been in my title. I don't want to give that up...unless I got a primo feature job...or better yet an outdoor reporting job. I suppose my dream job would to have my own show on the Discovery Channel or the Travel Channel or the National Geographic Channel. I'm just not sure how to get to that point. Time right now is 7:10. I'm wasting that blessed break between shows. I should go get something to eat. I'm thinking Subway and a Starbucks one pump, nonfat vanilla latte. Adios.

(this post not checked for spelling errors. Hopefully I'm a good typer...or is it typist? Whatever)

Ahem...my new crush

I was an American Idol fan during season 2. I was sort of a fan during the Carrie Underwood season. But somehow, I've really gotten sucked in to the latest season.

I don't write about pop culture that often. But I'm a little smitten with Megan Corkrey...and it's not just because she's from Utah. She just has "something" that's very appealing. Sadly, I don't see her winning. I don't think America likes her type. I see Adam Lambert winning. I'm okay with that too.

This is a shallow, meaningless post...and I vow to write about pop culture only on rare occasions.

The End

If not me...then definitely him

I recently applied for the "Best Job in the World." The successful applicant will be caretaker of an island in the Great Barrier Reef. They'll get paid $120,000 a year, live in a three bedroom villa, get free massages, do lots of "touristy" things, blog about it all, and generally promote tourism in the area to the entire world. Sounds good to me. 

All I had to do was submit a 60 second video application. Really it was more of an audition. I thought mine was pretty creative. I guess it wasn't. I didn't make it to the next round. I suppose that's not a huge surprise considering there were over 30,000 applicants from around the world. 

Disappointed, I logged on to the official website to see who had made it to the next round. There's a rundown of the 50 finalists with their application videos. While production quality was good in many cases, some of them were just as boring as mine. But there's one that stands out. Anyone who writes a musical for their application deserves a shot. My vote's for Mitchell. This kid's freakin' brilliant.

To see the rest of the applications go here. I also like Julia from Russia. 

Bozeman Burning

A massive explosion in downtown Bozeman. One woman likely dead. Half a dozen businesses destroyed. Historic buildings gone. It's sad from every angle. I just want to say that up front.

But I must admit I'm looking at this from a very different perspective. I want to be there covering it as a journalist so very badly. I have a special attachment to Bozeman. I started my TV career there. On top of that, I love the town. I know its residents. I know its leaders. I know its quirks. I know the businesses that are now gone. I've been in every single one of them at one time or another. Not being there is killing me.

I'm still a sucker for breaking news. I get excited every time it happens. But it's different when a big breaking story develops in a small town. It takes on more meaning. It has more of an effect. In terms of news value, you've got more bang for the buck. (no pun intended).

I was checking in with my old colleagues in Bozeman all day yesterday. I made sure to watch their coverage. Kudos to my friends at KTVM, KECI, and KBZK for rocking it. They all did a very good job. I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm so, so, so very jealous of what they were a part of. I wish it would have happened when I was there...as an employee....or as a visitor who passed through town just a week earlier. That might be a little sick and twisted...but from a journalist's perspective it only makes sense.

Time & Place

You've likely heard the expression "there's a time and a place for everything." Probably true. But how about "there's a time for every place?" Think of the hallways in your elementary school. I'm sure that's a place you were well acquainted with...but only for a time. Think of the slopes on a ski hill. You can have a lot of fun at a place like that...but only at the right time of the year. Think of the old house or apartment you used to live in. There's no place like home but at a different time...when you don't live there any longer...it feels strange being there.

Despite all that, heading to an old place at a new time isn't a bad thing. It is, however, different. Often, it's different in some very good ways.

So it goes with Glacier National Park. For most people, the time to visit such a place is summer. I spent four summers there. But in winter...things are different. Winter has a way of saying, "back off." But if you don't back off...if you dive in head first and are prepared for anything, you just might be rewarded.

The photo at the top of this post best exemplifies what I'm trying to say. Shelly Jones is standing on the Many Glacier road on a cold, windy, late February afternoon. I promise there's a road there. Seven miles ahead is this place:

It's the Many Glacier Hotel...the old stomping grounds of everyone you'll hear about in this post. Also ahead...a tiny little chalet, warmed by a wood stove (and electrical heat), to call home for a couple days. Looks quaint, doesn't it?

We just had to get there. That was the hard part. More on that in a moment. First, some backstory.

Ron & Jessie are winter caretakers at the Many Glacier Hotel. Here's Ron:

And here's Jessie as she updates the wildly popular blog she shares with Ron.

Ron & Jessie, also known as Sipner, are old Glacier friends. So are Jason and Shelly, also known as Shelson. Here's that dynamic duo.

It was decided early on that we should all visit Ron & Jessie sometime this winter. The weather had been pretty nice and biking in on the Many Glacier road (closed for 7 miles during winter) seemed like the best option. Old Man Winter had different plans. He dumped 2.5 feet of snow on the ground right before our arrival. Snowshoeing was the only option. Here's Jason and Dave, another old Glacier friend, as we get ready to begin the journey.

We got started late...around 5:00 in the afternoon. Not only that we were dragging a sled full of beer behind us. It was hard. It was really hard. I pride myself on being a fast hiker. But it took us 6.5 hours to snowshoe seven miles. Obviously it was dark for nearly all of it. Unfortunately, Dave decided to turn around early on and head back home. We eventually made it to the chalet at 11:30 that night. Exhausted, we went to bed. But as soon as I woke up the next morning I could see it was all worth it. We were greeted with a sunny, windless day at Many Glacier...a rare treat in any season. After a breakfast of Blueberry Pancakes, we were ready for a day of exploring the mighty hotel and her grounds.

Half the fun of our trip was just hanging out in the chalet with old friends. We reminisced, we made fun of each other, we laughed, we ate, we drank, we also played the Wii and Wii Fit. Here I am doing a little ski jumping.

The next day brought more exploring. This is the Upper Dorm, my old residence. I loved my dorm room. The window on the top left was mine. Ron once referred to it as Chateau Linco.

I had so much fun. Glacier is a special place...and winter is a special time. I used to think there was only one time to visit this place. Now I know better. Access is easier in the summer. There's more to do in the summer. Frankly, the park is easier to enjoy in the summer. But winter is special too. Winter in Glacier is about stillness. It's about dormancy. It's about mystery. It's about rarely seen beauty. It's about the park's time to rest...to be free of the crowds and the hikers and the forest fires and the cars. There is a time for every place. For me, and most people, summer is the time for a place like Glacier. But for the park, and forgive me for personifying here....her time is winter. 

There's something eerie about seeing a familiar place in unfamiliar conditions. For reasons I can't explain, I keep thinking about the Many Glacier road. Seven miles of snow-covered foreignness on the way in. A 10-minute drive turned into a nearly 7 hour slog. Old Man Winter did not make it easy for us. But we made it and he gave us a break on the way out...by clearing large sections. Here's Sipner and Shelson acting like hard asses. A fitting end to a very good trip.

Glory & Splendor

I'm in Glacier National Park...the Many Glacier region to be more specific. That's the Many Glacier Hotel just below the middle of the picture...the frozen expanse of Swiftcurrent Lake beyond it...Grinnell Point, Swiftcurrent Mountain, and Mt. Wilbur (left to right) towering above it all. It's a vacation paradise for hordes of people in the summer. It is generally a place to avoid when Old Man Winter gets a hold of it. Friends of mine have chosen to co-exist with the grumpy bastard for six ice-clad months. Some other friends, and I, chose to venture inside for a visit. It's been interesting. I leave tomorrow. I'm hoping the journey out will be easier than the journey in. I hope Old Man Winter will go easy on me. I hope he'll recognize the crap I went through to get in and think, "Fine...I'll give the guy a break."

I've got stories. I've got pictures. I'll share them when I'm back in Boise.

Happy March.

Lincoln's Wheels: An Automotive Retrospective

Every car has a story. 

That statement can mean a few different things. For me, it means there's one particular event or one memorable moment I always think of when I remember a certain car I've had. 

This blue 1985 Dodge Ram Pickup was my first vehicle. We bought it when I was a little kid. I still remember waiting at the dealership while they cleaned it before we took it home. When I turned 16, I claimed it as my own. My dad would probably remember it differently. I certainly never paid a dime for it. This truck's story: I was driving down the freeway at 65 miles per hour, Erin by my side when...BOOM!!!...there was a loud bang, the truck slowed down, and it puttered to a stop in a parking lot off the freeway. As it turns out, engines need oil to function properly. There wasn't a drop of oil in it. I suppose I should have checked the oil but in my defense, an oil light never came on. 

My next vehicle was a red 1997 Ford F-150. It was the first car (and one of only 2) I ever actually purchased. I picked it out. I made payments on it. I liked it for the most part. I took it with me my first summer in Glacier National Park. This truck's story: Glacier is where it died. Sadly, the above picture is the only photographic record I have of this truck. It was taken at a car dealership in Cut Bank, Montana. It was towed there after my friend wrecked it in a not-s0-uncommon August Glacier snowstorm. Totaled. I got enough insurance money to pay it off...with a little extra.

That happened in the middle of my first summer. Mom & Dad were good enough to deliver the above Ford Explorer to me personally. I used it for the rest of that summer. I went to Winter Park, Colorado without a car for the winter. I came home early and used the Explorer for the next few months. Out of all my cars this is the only one that I never felt belonged to me. Thus, there isn't a particular story that goes along with it. The thing I remember most about it is driving up and down Parleys Canyon every day when I worked for a few months in Park City.

For some reason I got a little adventurous with my next mode of transportation. One day I thought, "I should buy a motorcycle." So I did. I found this 1991 Honda Nighthawk on ebay. It would be my "car" for my 2nd summer in Glacier. That's Audrey and Mark sitting on it in the above picture. It was a weak little machine. My friends called it "The Piglet." I think the engine was only 25o cc's. But I loved it. Mom was terrified of me driving this thing 700 miles to Glacier. I thought it would be no big deal. That's where this bike's story comes in: 700 miles is an awful long way to go for someone who's never been on a motorcycle before. I was unprepared. I didn't have the right clothes. I was freezing the entire way. I pulled into Missoula one afternoon hypothermic. I'm serious too. I was actually suffering from hypothermia. But I made it and let me tell you...there is nothing quite like driving a motorcycle across Going-to-the-Sun Road. That made it all worth it.

I came home from Glacier and promptly sold The Piglet. I needed the money for my next adventure in New Zealand. I decided early on that I wanted to buy a car while I was down there. Ease of mobility is important to me. So after saving money from a few paychecks at the hotel where I worked, I rode a bus into Christchurch on a wing and a prayer. I banked on the fact I would find a cheap car at a car auction. I bought the above Nissan Bluebird (same thing as a Sentra) for NZ$1,300. It had the ugliest purplish/brown interior but it treated me well and it allowed me to explore the country. (It has the added distinction of being the only "right side drive" car I've ever, or probably will ever, own). The only problem I ever had was with one tire. I had to have it replaced. This car's story: Selling it was painful. I waited until my very last day in the country to go to a car auction and try to sell it. I wanted NZ$1,300 for it. But I was selling at a time when thousands of other travelers were leaving the country too. The market was flooded. For three hours I kept scratching out the price on the window and lowering it until someone would actually stop and look at it. The final selling price...NZ$600. Not what I had wanted.

When I got home from New Zealand, I was broke. But I was headed up to Glacier for a 3rd summer and I needed a car. By some miracle a guy who works with my parents was giving one away...for free. It was (I believe) a 1988 Toyota Corolla. He wasn't sure it would make it to Montana but what choice did I have but to try driving it there. Sadly, I have no photographic record of this car. It was pretty beat up. You could take the key out of the ignition while it was still running. That was a neat party trick. But I guess it's true what they say...Toyotas run forever. This little car did me well. It's story: I lost the key to it. I tried to sneak into an outdoor concert just outside Babb, Montana. While climbing over a fence my keys somehow disappeared. It was really baffling. I searched for hours. (My dad even traveled up to Glacier with a metal detector to see if we could find them). They were never located. I had to have the car towed back to Many Glacier Hotel and my parents mailed me an extra key. 

I came home from my 3rd summer in Glacier and the above car was waiting for me. My mom's 1996 Toyota Camry. She had just gotten a new Camry and I inherited this one. I was happy about it too. It seemed like a reliable, decent car that could last me a while. It did. It was with me for my winter in Big Sky. It was with me for my 4th and final summer in Glacier. It was with me for my two years in Bozeman. It was with me for my first year in Boise. I think of two stories that go along with this car. First, I drove it to the bar one night in Glacier and was a little too drunk to drive it home. My friend Katie (such a reliable DD) drove instead. On the way home I drunkenly said to her, "Do you know how to drive a Camry? Because this is a very special car." We still laugh about that. But the biggest story here: my trusty little Camry loved to burn oil. I first noticed a blue smoke cloud emerge from the exhaust in the early winter of 2005. From that moment on I had to keep a careful eye on the oil. I had learned my mistake with my blue pickup. I kept adding oil to it over the next 4 years. I added a lot of oil. My friend Beth said to me once, "You're the only person I know who buys oil in bulk." It made me laugh.

I had planned to run that Camry into the ground. Why spend money on a new car if the old one works? I got it registered in Idaho in December. Then I learned it had to pass an emissions test in February. I was nervous but I took it in anyway for the test. That poor little car studied as hard as she could...but in the end she failed. Months earlier a mechanic had told me, "I don't recommend you put any more money into this car." So I didn't. The last time I saw her was when I took the above photo. She treated me well (not to mention my mom) but it was time to move on. 

And move on I did. I'm nearly 29 years old and I've finally purchased my own brand new vehicle...a Jeep Liberty Sport.

 
Pretty isn't it? I got a screamin' deal too. 

Love

I'm single. I don't mind it. Nor do I mind a holiday like Valentine's Day. All it makes me do is think of love....and love's pretty awesome. I may not be "in" it right now, but I've been in love before. It was hard when it ended but, in hindsight, I see it was supposed to. I can be happy with where I am now and still look back fondly at a good dose of love. That's what I did this year. 

One other thing about love. They say it "makes you do crazy things." It's true. At one point, it inexplicably threw me into the world of poetry. I'm not a good writer, let alone poet. Yet for one brief moment in life I was quite prolific in poetry. Most of it wasn't good. But there was one poem I wrote that I still remember. At the risk of scorn and ridicule, I'll post it here. Laugh if you will. But I still really like it.

October Fear

Orange

Yellow

Red all around 

Some clinging

Some falling 

Some resting on the ground

Amidst all the colors

Adorned in white

A radiant bride

Her heart in flight

I look and she smiles

So beautifully happy

My heart rises in song

She truly loves me

But quickly it's broken

His head blocks her glow

Then I remember

I wear no tuxedo

No, it's not a happy poem. But when I read or remember it now, I simply smile. It was born out of love. That's why I like it. 

Happy Valentine's Day.

Old Soul

You know that song "New Soul" by Yael Naim? That was my mantra when I moved to Boise...which happens to be one year ago today. My point? I'm not sure I have one. But since I've been here for a year I don't think I qualify as a "new soul" anymore.

Normally I'm big on anniversaries like this. I like to reflect on where I've been and what I've learned. But when I realized the significance of today I was like, "eh."

So here's my apathetic take on the past year:
Boise is decent. Not great. Not bad. Just decent.
Learned a lot.
Became a part time zip liner.
Met some cool people. (need to meet more)
Learned how to play the role of weatherman.
Opened up a little more.
Adopted Merlin. (he's gotten big)

The past year flew by. FLEW. I see the next year (until March 2010) as a time for development...personally and professionally.

I'll leave it at that.

"Front please!"

Is that a wad of ones in your pocket...or are you just happy to see me?

Just moments ago I found myself in the position of trading a $20 bill for twenty $1 bills. I needed a dollar so I could get a cinnamon roll out of the vending machine at work. Lucky for me, the vending machine guy was there and gave me all the singles I needed. He handed me the money and I started counting it.

It felt good. It felt really good. It made me think of the times in my life when the cash (and I'm talking actual cash) flowed freely. I made good tips as a bellman...and I had eight different bellman jobs. In Big Sky, it wasn't unusual to walk away with $150 to $200 bucks a day in cash tips. The best part of my day was when I got home, pulled out a giant wad of money from my pocket, and started counting it. That's what I was reminded of while counting this measly 20 bucks.

But it also made me think of working as a bellman. There were bad days. It wasn't easy to deal with rich, annoying, egotistical guests. But it was also fun. Really fun. It's hard to explain why. I don't want to quit my job and go be a bellman for the rest of my life. But in some ways, a bellman's existence is simplistically superior to anything else.

Go figure.

Connectivity

I can't decide whether Facebook is the greatest thing since sliced bread or the death knell for interpersonal communication.

To be fair, I'm not only talking about Facebook. I'm talking about MySpace, Twitter, instant messaging, and text messages. I'm talking about every other fancy new communication medium out there. They all connect us in ways most of us never would have imagined. On top of that, the connections are growing at a rapid fire pace as more and more folks jump on the bandwagon. I think I've added close to two dozen new Facebook friends in the past month. I'm not the only one. Everyone else is right there with me. But are we better off because of it?

I know I'm not the first to suggest personal relationships are taking a back seat to electronic ones. But I've only recently started seeing the evidence of that theory firsthand. I have "friended" and talked to people on Facebook and MySpace only to suffer through awkward interactions when I see them in person. I have gotten annoyed when seemingly normal people try to have ENTIRE conversations with me via text message...rather than dialing my number. I've written on a friend or co-worker's wall rather than walk the 25 feet necessary to talk to them personally. I think it's safe to say people are more comfortable communicating in a passive way. To me, there's nothing more passive than the technologies that supposedly make us more connected.

It's not all bad. I know that. I've reconnected with old friends. There are a few people I probably wouldn't communicate with all that much if it weren't for Facebook. There's also a comedy aspect to all of it. It's fun and humorous to joke about each other's photos, status updates, and wall posts in such a public setting. But I do think there are hidden and unforeseen consequences to all of it.

That all said, I won't be jumping off the bandwagon anytime soon.

P-Town

I'm a little late in posting this but better late than never. I headed to Portland last weekend. It was a somewhat spur of the moment trip to see some friends. I've been informed by some that the "cool kids" refer to it as PDX. I'm sticking with P-town. It's a nice city. Depending on what I decide I want out of the news business, Portland looks to be an ideal spot for me. It would be hard to get there but it's a decent possibility.

The drive was annoying (especially the 9 hour, snow-laden trip back) but I had an awesome time. Stupidly, I didn't take any pictures. But I dug through all my old photos to come up with a reconstructed narrative. Enjoy.

My main motive for going was to see Katie.
We met more than 5 years ago in Glacier National Park. Here we are in 2003 at Charlie's in Babb, Montana. Katie has come to visit me many times in Bozeman and Boise so I thought it was time to return the favor. Despite a disasterous trip up to Mt. Hood...it was a good time.

Two more Glacier buddies also live in Portland.

This is Jason and Shelly, also known as Shelson (and occasionally referred to by their lesser known portmanteau Jelly). They met in Glacier, fell in love, and got married. Cute isn't it? We had dinner and drinks and reminisced the night away. However, we're all getting on in years and most of us were in bed by midnight. Still...good times.

Also living Portland...my good friend Chris.

I met Chris in 2004 when I worked at Big Sky Resort. Here he is getting a workout in Monument Valley. Chris works for the National Park Service in Denali National Park. He's basically stationed on Mt. McKinley all summer long. He's hard core. I met his lovely girlfriend Amanda too. They're a disgustingly cute couple.

I expected to see one more person.

This would be Josh. He's Chris' good friend and also worked in Big Sky. Unfortunately, Josh got called into work (he works with an outdoor wilderness school for troubled youth) and couldn't hang out for the weekend. Maybe next time.

There's a certain moment in life that I cherish. It feels the same every time it happens yet it never gets old. I'm in the midst of a group of people I love (whether it be friends or family) and I take stock for a brief second. It's almost like I'm watching the scene out of a movie. The scene where everyone is laughing and talking and smiling. Conversations of all sorts fly by and sometimes mix with each other. I watch this and I simply smile. I'm part of this group of happy, fun-loving individuals and we are having a good time. It's hard not to revel in such simplistic joy. I had one of those moments this past weekend.

Thanks Portland.

Blah

For the past several nights I've sat down to write something...anything...on this blog. I've got writer's block. I have nothing meaningful to say.

I'm leaving for Portland. I'll be back Sunday. Perhaps I'll have something to say then.

Have a good weekend.

Underrated

Allow me to talk news for a moment.

I just have to say that I don't understand why Katie Couric gets so much disrespect. While I've always been an NBC News loyalist, I find myself watching her CBS Evening News more and more these days. She's good. She's really good. She made me laugh on The Today Show. But she impresses me with journalistic chops in her current gig. What is it about her that some people don't like? Or is it that they simply like Brian Williams and Charles Gibson more? I have no idea. I just know that I've slowly come to realize that she is at the helm of a solid newscast. I think she deserves more credit.

On a somewhat related note, I still regret not saying something to Ms. Couric when I saw her on Main Street in Bozeman. I don't think I ever told that story on this blog. That's probably because I feel stupid for the missed opportunity. I walked out of a store with my friend Whitney. We looked to the left and as I made the recognition, Whitney grabbed my arm and said, "It's Katie Couric, it's Katie Couric, it's Katie Couric." I simply watched her walk by. There I was, a news anchor at an NBC affiliate and I didn't say anything to one of the biggest names on NBC News. (She was still there back then). I don't know why. I'm lame like that I guess. But I regret it and I'm not going to make the same mistake if a similar situation presents itself in the future.

And to finish with this newsy post, I've got to mention another favorite of mine. World News Now is the overnight newscast on ABC. It airs in the wee hours of the morning. It's long been a cult favorite for news junkies. It's irreverent, unusual, fun, and entertaining....and since I'm up every morning at around 2:30...I get to watch it regularly. Anchors come and go on a regular basis (Jeremy Hubbard and Vinita Nair man the desk now) but they always seem to find a team that works well together. I wouldn't mind getting to that desk in my career. If you're ever up late one night, check it out.

Walkin' in a.......

It's always funny when someone who has never been snowshoeing asks how to do it? My usual response is, "You know how to walk, right?"

It has been a long time since I went snowshoeing. This latest trip was particularly awesome. A group of 14 of us headed out into the central Idaho backcountry for an overnight trip. It wasn't exactly hard core. Our yurt was only about a mile and a half off the main road. Still, it was a good time. Katie was good enough to fly in from Portland to join me.

I've complained about winter before. But truth be told, I love it. I don't know how anyone could hate winter. Whether you are skiing, snowboarding, sledding or snowshoeing...you just have to find a way to enjoy it. It's better than whining your way through a few months a year.

Antarctic Mormons in Chewed Up Cat Boxes

This here post is a rambler.

Okay. Which one of my Mormon friends did it? Who sent the visiting teachers to my apartment? It had to be someone. The Church isn't THAT good...is it? I haven't been trying to evade them or anything. But after ZERO contact over four years in Glacier, two years in Bozeman, nearly a year in Boise, and close to a dozen address changes...how is it that they were able to track me down...and knock on my door? I'm not upset. I was greeted by two very nice elderly guys. I told them the truth and said I was about to go to bed but that they could come back another time. I'm sure they will. My relationship with Mormonism is complex and I suppose I'll be honest and tell them that. But seriously...how did they find me?

I think I sent my first online instant message in...let me think...1997 perhaps? I'm not completely sure. The point is that instant communication via computers has been around for a while. Despite that, I still had a moment of disbelief tonight as I chatted online with an old friend from Glacier. She's in Antarctica right now. That's pretty damn cool.

I went to the dentist today. It's always fun when a new dental office employee takes a look at my teeth. I sit there in anticipation as the horror of my condition becomes evident to them. If you have no idea what I'm talking about follow the thread of posts about my teeth here. The woman giving me my cleaning was awe-struck. I'm glad I could provide her with entertainment. The good news is that my teeth haven't changed all that much in the last six months. I can wait a while before I absolutely NEED a set of crowns. More time to save up some money.

And finally, I've bought a few cat toys for Merlin. He likes them well enough. But nothing can compete with a good old cardboard box. It's like heaven on earth for him. No more cat toys. I'm sticking with boxes and paper grocery bags.

Low Tide

I had about a dozen people tell me Utah was going to be slaughtered by Alabama in the Sugar Bowl. Most of those people were bitter Boise State fans...upset by the Broncos' Poinsettia Bowl loss and the fact it was Utah's higher ranking that kept BSU out of a BCS bowl game. (Note: I consider myself a Bronco fan. I live in Boise and I'd like to see them do well. But I'm a Utah grad and that loyalty comes first). Whenever I heard the naysayers, I just smiled and nodded.

Victory is sweet...pun intended.

That is all I'll say about Utah's win. What I really need to talk about is a serious transgression on my part. In my euphoria over the outcome of Friday's game, I violated one of my own cardinal rules. It's still eating me up inside.

I sent out a mass text message proclaiming my excitement.

I strongly dislike mass text messages. It's the holiday ones that really irritate me.

Happy Halloween!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Merry Christmas!

Happy New Year!

I'd say it's the thought that counts but let's be real here people...very little thought goes into it. And don't think I'm falling for the text that says "Happy Holidays! Your friendship means a lot to me!" I know every other friend on your contact list got the exact same thing.

I can't explain why these little greetings bother me so much. Some of them are even okay. Got a birth announcement to make? Go ahead...send out a mass text. Letting everyone know of a new phone number? Mass texting is cool with me. Just engaged and want to share the news? Fine...let everyone know at once. But don't pass off a generic "Happy Fill-in-the-Blank" greeting as something with a personal touch.

Sorry for the little rant. I hope it doesn't stop a few friends out there from communicating with me.