Alaskana, Part I: Nuts and Bolts

So it's been a week since I last posted. That means there's a whole hellava lot for me to write about in this post. This may actually have to be a two-parter...

KTUU:

The first week went great. I learned more in this one week of work than I would have back home freelancing, or in six or more months of working at Fenway. Wow.  My co-workers in my department have been more than patient with me, answering all of the questions I pose, as well as really taking the time to show me the way certain elements are practiced at the station, and what is expected of me. 

It has really been a humbling experience so far, especially after watching the raw footage I shot on my first shoot ever at the station, last Wednesday. I'm realizing now that I've only shot footage about half a dozen times since leaving Fenway last May, and that it is going to take a good, solid several weeks (probably more!!) before I am up to speed with where I was as a videographer last year. Even the most fundamental techniques seem to have left my repertoire of basic camera operations. Pretty crazy, and like I said, humbling. I'm going into this thinking I'm going to be able to jump into this position with all of the skills I had when I left Fenway, and I learned quickly that that is just not the case. This all also means that I have to work even harder at learning the equipment and putting into practice what I'm learning and what I seem to have forgotten. 

Back to my co-workers... The staff of photographers here are really great, some better than others, but overall just superb. Most of them truly care about the product they are putting out on the air and will go the extra mile to make the story that much better. And much of this all seems to come second-nature to them. It's quite fascinating. Sometimes with stories they're "polishing a turd"; other times they're editing in natural sound pops (also known as Natsound, or NATS) to really bring a story to life; in some cases, that could mean the difference between an award-winning story, or just another piece of informational video.  Their work is quite refreshing.  It's funny to see the expressions on their faces when they happen to ask me, "Why Alaska?".  My answer always is, "You".  I hate to get ahead of myself and who knows what may happen in the future, but based upon my first week of work here I can honestly say that I have made the right decision in moving here for this job.  

Another note to be mentioned of my new co-workers: so far they are easy to get along with. There is a varying degree of "dwarf-like" personalities ranging from grumpy all the way to dopey. Not kidding. 

All around, they are a lot of fun.

The apartment:

Everyone I've spoken to has been asking me about the furnishings in my apartment...I have a ten dollar stool from Wal-Mart and the toilet that luckily came with the place. A co-worker is generously letting me borrow an aerobed, but I'm hesitant to use it because of Louie and his kitty claws. I think I'd rather not run the risk of puncturing a hole in it! Another co-worker was kind enough to pass along to me some general household items that were no longer needed at their home. Among those items: plates, large and small, and bowls (two of each), bottle openers, tupperware, tea, a knife set and some snacks. This naturally brings me to talk about the personalities and behaviors of Alaskans, and the type of people I've met thus far - but I'm going to hold off getting into that for now...  

My computer finally arrived last week. I now have everything that I was planning on bringing with me with the exception of two smaller boxes of miscellaneous office materials  I snail-mailed to myself. Not sure exactly where I'm going to put that stuff when it finally arrives. Check out the pictures at the end of the posting to see what I mean...

The Volvo:

I've tried getting in touch with the shipping company that supposedly has my car at this point. However, most of their office hours conflict with when I am at work and I missed them by a few hours when I tried calling this weekend. It also doesn't help that I've been forgetful with the necessity of reaching them and making sure that they are open when I try to call. As far as I know, my car reached the Washington (state) port a week ago Friday and should be on it's way to Anchorage. Depending on which ship it was put on, I should be receiving notification of the Volvo's arrival in port here sometime this week...keep your fingers crossed.

The "Iditarod: The Last Great Race":

The more I learn about this event, the more respect I have for it, the mushers, and the dogs. Traveling via dogsled through Alaska's frozen tundra, treacherous cliffs, blizzards, ridges, paths, frozen rivers, checkpoints and villages.  It begins with a ceremonious heave-ho of pomp and circumstance in downtown Anchorage, traveling through the municipality for approximately 13 miles (yesterday-Saturday), and continuing on with the "real" beginning of the race, today: 1,150 miles, 12-16 dogs, one musher and 9-14 days later the quest is completed in Nome. A few words that come to mind: perilous, stamina, determination, focus, survival skills, strategy, insanity. From what I've learned about this race (and I've decided already that I must buy a book on this topic), the one thing that I can possibly, and probably incorrectly, compare it to is that it must be like running a marathon...for a week straight.*

And Alaskans go ga-ga over this event. Spectators lined the route in downtown, cheering the mushers; supporting all 98 of them. And they all hope for the opportunity to be tossed a souvenir: a dog bootie. The mushers throw out the used, worn, torn and no longer usable booties that protect the dogs paws from ice splits (I believe that's what they're called). To the people here it's like getting beads during Mardi Gras...minus the bodily exposure. *there'll be another Mardi Gras reference in Part II of these postings. 

My work assignment for the event was to be situated in Mulcahy Park, off of 16th Ave, and to shoot footage of every musher that goes by. I was huddled there in "teen" degree weather, along with a fluctuating number of spectators and Trail Guards. Even after spending $200 at REI the night before on warm-weather wear, I was still freezing my bootie off and lost feeling in the tips of my fingers and toes. One of the Trail Guards was a spunky woman named "Frenchie". What a hoot she was. She was great. She helped me put on a pair of wind-breaking outer layer bottoms over my jeans and boots that were generously lent to me by a woman named Michelle who was leaving the spectacle early to enjoy a Saturday afternoon in the warmth of her home. Frenchie also tied my boots back up for me after putting hand-warmers in there to help keep my feet warm. Those hand-warmers came from a woman named Roseanne. What a sweetheart. She stayed in that one spot with me for the entire duration of the event, from 9:30am through 2:15pm. What a doll. She retrieved three dog booties for me, stating that as a newcomer to the state of Alaska, I had to have souvenirs from my first Iditarod. I felt awkward taking them from her, especially because I was working and I didn't feel it was very professional of me to accept them...she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer and I didn't want to insult her voracious generosity.  

I'm pretty sure most of you reading this right now will agree that Frenchie, Roseanne and Michelle are people who, in general, do not exist back in colonial, metropolitan, civilized New England. As much as I love that region of the country, my true home, I do not believe that I would find such generosity from strangers there, in my own backyard. As one of the Trail Guards, Aaron, said to me [loose quote], 'people here look out for one another'.

Thank you, Alaskana.

Part II will explore "Alaskana" more in-depth.

*If you find yourself interested enough, go to iditarod.com and view the video: 2008 Iditarod Preview. That will give you an idea of what I was trying to explain here. And for a little history on the beginnings of the race, the trail and what it commemorates, click here, and read the end of the article "Booms and Busts" by Don Bowers. If you feel like it, read the entire page. It's worth it.

Temperature update: 27 degrees F and party cloudy in Anchorage

Alaska trivia (in the spirit of the Iditarod): "A red lantern is awarded to the last musher to finish. The longest time for a Red Lantern was 32 days, 15 hours, nine minutes and one second by John Schultz in 1973. The quickest Red Lantern musher was David Straub with a time of 14 days, 5 hours, 38 minutes and 12 seconds" [that was in 2002]. Trivia credit: http://www.iditarod.com/learn/trivia.html

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An over-exposed view from my work post Saturday during the Iditarod:

If you look closely, between two buildings in the distance, a little to the left of the center, is a white strip - that's a street called Cordova and it's the hill that the mushers come down before crossing 16th Ave and on through Mulcahy Park, where I was situated.

The "settled in" look of the apartment:

A couple of shots from a quick Saturday afternoon drive around residential Anchorage: