The Los Anchorage Report

I have been in Anchorage taking a class on High Voltage Direct Current power transmission. Then, I will attend one day of a conference called The Urban Forest of Tomorrow. I don't know a dadgum thing about arboriculture, but since I promote use of woody biomass, I figure it would only be responsible for me to study up on forest management.

Here are my observations about Anchorage. Most of them are gleaned from my text reports to G:

1) Hotels that allow dogs are very nice when you miss your own dogs. There are always dogs to pet in the lobby.

2) Urban people have some weird-ass-looking dogs.

3) Anchorage is... probably not the place for me. It's a little too pretentious for my Fairbanks side, and yet a little too provincial for my San Francisco side. This combination comes off to me as self-conscious, as if folks are trying to prove how urban and worldly they are. San Francisco folks are much more relaxed and secure. They don't talk as loudly at bars, "casually" mentioning their time in Europe or where their clothes came from. I think Anchorage folks are a bit too big for their britches. I want to tell them, "Gimme a break! You're in Alaska!"

4) Anchorage is a busy port. There are hella shipping containers. Check it out:


5) Downtown Anchorage has a lot of tourist claptrap. It reminds me of Pier 39. Check it out:


6) A tramp accosted me while I was taking the above photo of the shipping containers. We don't have those in Fairbanks.

7) This is what comprises breakfast for a week for me:


I have decided that I prefer hotels that have refrigerators over hotels that offer free crappy breakfasts.

8) The mountains, visible from almost everywhere, make for a beautiful backdrop to almost everything:


9) Nordstrom is too pretentious to sell nail clippers. The lady at the cosmetics counter actually smirked at me when I asked whether they had one. They do have very fancy nail files, however. I declined.

10) Walking around in Anchorage makes me switch immediately into city gear. I remember hearing this thusly described once: "It's like you're saying, 'Fuck you'... 'Fuck you'... 'Fuck you'... with each step." You cannot go around smiling and waving at everyone, which is what you do in Fairbanks, because it attracts unwanted attention. I am immediately on alert, and clutching my handbag just a little bit tighter. It's like how sometimes you're driving down a highway, and you subconsciously slow down for a narrow or winding stretch, and then you see a sign for a reduced speed limit. Miracle of miracles, you are already driving slower. We humans, we just know. And I just know that one takes a bit more care when walking around in Anchorage than in Fairbanks.

And that is all I have for today. Tomorrow I will be back with my fuzzy-wuzzies: