A journalist observes life in the far north.
I spoke to Alec, who is moving up the mountain again, this time with plans to tag the summit before coming down. He sounded like crap and said he had bad diarrhea.
A weird thing happened at work today. I cried while talking to my boss. My emotions were out of proportion with the subject matter. I am taking it as a sign that I am nervous about Alec heading to the “Death Zone” on the world’s tallest mountain. Still, I remain embarrassed even hours later as I type this.
I have 16 tiny cuts on my hands after pulling weeds in the flower boxes at the rental property.
At work, I am on the missing and dead people beat this week. Today I wrote about a respected Alaska Native elder who passed away last week at the age of 93. On Wednesday, I interview a guy whose son witnessed a murder and went missing a few months later.
I know I am loved. A friend recently gave me a Hoover Wind Tunnel upright vacuum. It runs great and is even self-propelled. I didn’t know vacuums came self-propelled. The same friend gave me her surplus juice and milk so I could prolong going to the market, which I despise.
Finally, I don’t know what planet I was on but I only recently heard that Warren Buffet said newspapers are a bad investment. It’s been my industry for the past 10 years. I didn’t need the country’s premier investment guru to tell me newspapers are in trouble. Still, it’s depressing to hear someone of his good judgment, and a member of the Washington Post’s board of directors, more or less say that newspapers are a lost cause.
Darn. The five minute post turned into the 30-minute post.