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I’ve built a citadel out of cinder blocks!

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Packing vs. never moving vs. not having any “stuff.” … Hrm.

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Perhaps packing is like childbirth–one tends to discount how painful it’s going to be, until it’s too late, and there’s nothing you can do to avoid the pain.

(Thankfully, I’ve never know.)

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Remind me again, how did I spill wine there?

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Waste not, want not, and whatnot. (Fives times fast!)

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The Buell Blast would more appropriately be named the Buell You-Were-Dumb-Enough-To-Buy-An-American -Motorcycle-so-this-is-what-you-get-Sucker!, or, perhaps more simply, the Buell Migraine.

Pat picked me up at the airport, ’round midnight, last night. I’d just flown from Anchorage, via Seattle. The flight home was an efficient, six-hour ordeal. But how, you ask, did I end up in Anchorage in the first place?

The answer is simple: 3,000 miles (5,000 km) of paved roadways–snaking from Bozeman to Lethbridge Alberta, Calgary to Edmonton, Edmonton to Dawson Creek, to Fort Nelson, Watson Lake, Whitehorse, Tok, Fairbanks, Denali National Park, and–at long last–to Anchorage, Alaska!

Our wildlife sightings include:

Seven black bears.

Four moose.

One marmot.

One fox.

One gray wolf.

Too many caribou to count.

Lots of buffalo (or bison, if you prefer).

Dozens of Dall Sheep.

One porcupine.

Eight ptarmagins.

AND ONE GRIZ!!

We stopped off at Liard Hot Springs (just past Muncho Lake, in British Columbia) for a night. Driving in to the camp ground, we happened to run into some friends from Bozeman: Alfred, Evan, Jessica Potter (why is Jessica always Jessica Potter?), and Christin–who were themselves on their way to Alaska (for a wedding in Valdez). I should have snapped some pictures–the hot springs were amazing!

In Whitehorse, Yukon, we stopped off at the Yukon Brewing Company. Their tasting room doesn’t sell pints–but gives away free samples. We were treated to a full gamut of nine beers.

Which brings me to an interesting point: contrary to popular wisdom, America has substantially better beer than Canada. To say that Canadia (Canada’s largest domestic) is better than Bud misses the point: they’re both bad. What Canada seems to lack (or at least Western Canada) that America (at least the coasts and the Rocky Mountain Region) has is a vibrant microbrew scene. I’m sorry to say, but the best beer from the Yukon Brewing Company (probably their Yukon Gold) wasn’t quite as good as the worst beer I’ve had from The Bozone.

So next time you meet a Canadian who makes some disparaging remark about American beer–well, you just tell that Canuck that he (or she!) wouldn’t know. Also, curiously, Budweiser is quite popular in Canada. If it’s so bad–why do they import so much of it? Also, Kokanee is a premium beer in Canada. It was recommended to us, several times, as a “good Canadian beer.”

In Fairbanks, we visited The Blue Loon–a pub theater on the outskirts of town that I never thought I’d get to see. Unfortunately, a band–rather than a movie–was playing on the night we happened to be in Anchorage.

Between Fairbanks and Anchorage, we stopped off at Denali National Park and Preserve. We had the good luck of being able to see the park’s eponymous feature: the 20,230 foot tall Mount McKinley. It had that ethereal quality where, looking at it, it was hard to discern if what one saw was mountain or cloud. In the occasional Bozeman sunset, I’ve seen equally awe-inspiring clouds–only this wasn’t any cloud.

In Anchorage, we dined at The Moose’s Tooth–which is positively the best pizza and beer I’ve had in a long while. If you’re ever in Anchorage, give it a try. You won’t be disappointed.

Click below to see the pictures from the adventure!

The Great Alaskan Adventure!

What follows below is a personal update, copied from an email sent to a professor who has encouraged and challenged me over the past two years. I thought it might be of general interest to those who read this blog (more so than my usual fair, anyway), so I’ve posted it here.

I finished both my Econ and History capstone courses this spring. I have one more semester, before I graduate in December. I’m excited for the fall–in addition to (hopefully!) being an ECNS 292 peer leader, I’ll be taking an econometrics class, more computer science, and a math class or two.

As an aside–if I have one regret about my college career to date, it’s that I didn’t take more math as an underclassman. Lower division Econ courses are mostly conceptual, but some upper division courses are very mathematically rigorous. I’m proud of the “B” I earned in Econ 401 last fall–but I might have been able to earn an “A” if I had taken multivariable calculus. And, even if I don’t anticipate ever extensively using math in a future career, solid math skills are essential for doing well on the GRE and GMAT.

I have an internship this summer in Scottsdale, AZ at my brother-in-law’s pain clinic. Though obtained through blatant nepotism, it’s a fantastic opportunity, and I’m thoroughly appreciative. I’ll be managing his clinic’s transition to a new Electronic Medical Record system–which I expect will be an invaluable stepping stone to grad school or a future career.

Speaking of which–after four years of denial–I’ve finally realized that my future is going to be in Information Systems.

I’m excited.

I had thought, in high school, that I wanted to go into Information Technology. Unfortunately, my high school exposure to IT was limited primarily to the commoditized (and endlessly dull!) repair-and-maintain side of IT. Exposure to higher level IT tasks (designing systems and solving problems using technology–or Information Systems, broadly) has rekindled my interest.

Reading Mountains Beyond Mountains (a biography of Dr. Paul Farmer, humanitarian extraordinaire, by Tracy Kidder) created in me a sense of guilt for having unrealized potential to positively affect the world. Similarly, reading The World is Flat (by Thomas Friedman) has imbued me with a sense of obligation to excel in a field that makes America–and its economy–stronger and more affluent. I see Information Systems as a field where I can apply my skills to create tangible social value.

My plan has been to graduate in December, and spend the spring applying to grad schools with IS or Management IS programs. Depending on how well things to this summer, however, I may try to directly enter the job market after I graduate. As this point, I’m struggling to put my finger on the skill set or ability required for me to succeed that 1) I don’t already have, and 2) can’t learn on my own, and that 3) grad school would provide me with. I’m eager to continue to build my “human capital,” but I’m beginning to believe that entering the job market (or striking out on my own) might better serve that end than grad school.

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I leave for Scottsdale as soon as I finish the packing frenzy that will be my life for the next two days. I’m looking forward to seeing friends and family in Laramie and Cheyenne as I drive my newly repaired motorbike to the Sunshine state.

Day two of our Alaskan adventure! Progress is slowed by a veritable blizzard. We holed up in Fort Saint John (BC), hoping for better weather. Our hopes are disappointed–and we drive north in an hour. With any luck, we’ll outrun the storm. With bad luck, we’ll be pitching our tent on a bank of snow tonight!

Canadian beer–for all of its hype–is actually no better than America’s giant domestics. In fact, in Canada, Kokanee is a premium beer. Funny, right?

Also, in Canada, the friendly moose is sometimes given a more derogatory moniker: the swamp donkey.

We’ve encountered lots of friendly Canadians, who have been happy to tell us all aboot Canada.

Say, if you Twitter (and I’m not already following you), post your username in the comments!

Graduation throw-down tonight. Show up early for outdoor activities (slackline, etc), or late for simple insanity.

All of the usual shenanigans. Also: the opportunity to burn school papers and your extra furniture.

For directions, click here.

For those who missed last year’s party:

It’s 2:00 am on a Thursday night. Everyone in the house is up. The only open beer is the half-full glass sitting near my computer–left over from dinner. No one else is drinking. The Wii is off, and no one’s using the main computer. The lights–and fireplace–are on. Aside from Bovard’s headphones, it’s completely quiet.

Someone looks up, and laughs feebly.

“It must be dead week.”

In fact, it is. It’s Thursday night of dead week.

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Edit: (6:04 am … three of us are still going strong)

I just changed this sentence from:

The meat of Cannon’s biography, however, is the myriad telling details…

to:

The substance of Cannon’s biography, however, is the myriad telling details…

on the basis of an ideological objection.

“The meat of something” is an normalizing and loaded phrase. It equates meat with substance, which in turn equates meat with being important, essential, something without which a book/argument/idea is incomplete. Suggesting that a meal without meat is incomplete. Which I don’t buy.

In fact, it’s equivalent, I believe, to the phrase “the good part of,” implying that meat is good. I don’t contend that meat is bad, but I object to attaching a positive moral connotation to something that, when mass produced, does untold damage to the environment and, when mass consumed, does untold damage to one’s arteries and waistline!

Found on The Daily Show website:

“I don’t know a lot about waterboarding, but my knowledge of general science and basic comprehension tells me it’s probably a warmer version of snowboarding, and snowboarding has never produced an ounce of useful intelligence, so I’m going to have to side with Jon on this.”

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In other news … it’s snowing!

1. Set up the slackline in the yard. Sixty foot span. Tight as a drum skin.

2. Met the neighbors–in more of a hang out and talk sense than a say “Hello–what’s your name?”

3. $2 pints at Specs with the crew.

4. New circus trick … involving a giant wood spindle and awesome walking skills.

(#2 entry in the “Cool pictures of silhouetted friends doing cool things” category. Left to right: Christina, Eric Gowens, Eric Moog.)

5) Discovery of “Stop Making Sense” — and completely re-evaluating my idea of a “concert video.”

Also, this cool thought:

Concert set lists are arranged differently from album set lists. Each follows a general formula, and the two formulas are generally different.

It’s like this: if there’s a band that’s touring to support it’s new album, here are the set lists I expect to see, listed in terms of relative (and consensus, not absolute) goodness of songs. Assume each as 12 songs. (In reality, of course, any concert is filled with past favorite songs, typically between song number three and eleven.)

Concert
1. #4-ish best song. Best song off of previous album. Something to build energy.
2. Something … a pretty good song.
3 – 8. Some “okay” songs punctuated by a few hits.
10. #2 best song, or another previous #1.
11. Pretty good song.
12. Probably #1 best song. Really get the crowd going.

CD
1. #2 best song.
2. #3,4,5, or 6 best song
3. #1 best song.
4-9. Pretty good songs.
10. #5 best song, doesn’t match the band’s perceived style.
11. #3 best song, doesn’t match the band’s perceived style, or some random song.
12. If 11 is not #3 best song, then #2 best song that doesn’t match the band’s perceived style.

Or, stated differently:
Concert
1 – 3: High energy openers
4 – 9: Sine-wave energy–moving from high to low to high or low to high to low energy.
10 – 12: High energy build up and finish.

Album
1. High energy opener.
2. Pretty high energy.
3. Most catchy song.
4 – 9: high to low energy.
10 & 11: low energy, soulful songs
12. Something completely random–and possibly quite good, but different from tracks 1 – 9.

But, of course, there are some exceptions–like when Pink Floyd toured for Dark Side of the Moon or The Wall, or when The Who toured for Tommy. In these instances, the concert and album set lists were the same.

Really, it’s not all that “profound”–but I still find it interesting to think about why the same set of songs would be arranged/ordered differently on an album than at a concert. Differences in the way that the respective mediums are consumed, I suppose. Invokes Jean Epstein and Stan Brakahge and theories of media specificity.

This would be interesting to compare: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band — concert versus album.

Friday: a solid foot of snow covered the ground. My peers and I bundled against the cold, hurried from class to class–building to building, heads down and feed trudging under dreary, snow-spitting sky. A hearty few rode their bikes. Most drove, rode the bus, or just stayed at home in bed.

By Monday, MSU is transformed.

Monday: bright warm sunshine beams down from the sun’s still low perch in the Eastern sky. The snow has melted–almost entirely–to reveal a lush and vibrant green carpet underneath. Gone are the thick, synthetic winter coats. In their place, my peers now sport an array of sweatshirts, tee-shirts and tank-tops. The sidewalks team with bicyclists, pedestrians. On my way to EPS, I notice a girl–clearly an American who knows she has a right to bare arms–walking barefoot, shoes in hand.

Seemingly overnight, Spring has come to Bozeman!