Cabin Fever...

...is a slang term for a claustrophobic reaction that takes place when a person or group is isolated and/or shut in, for an extended period. Symptoms include restlessness, irritability, forgetfulness, laughter, and excessive sleeping. Another one is complete madness.

As the plows and gravel trucks continue to tirelessly fight the mounting snow and ice, Multnomah county has declared a state of emergency in an effort to obtain monetary assistance from the state (not likely) and the federal government (somewhat likely). Tri-met has now canceled all but its busiest routes, effectively stranding anyone without a chained-up four-wheel-drive or a Subaru.

Reading the comments on news sites and other blogs, the general consensus seems to be anger. Anger at the city, county and state that each respective municipality hasn't budgeted enough for inclement weather.

To reiterate yesterday's post, times are tough economically--you can't ignore that fact. Folks complain about tax hikes while our schools and public works still suffer. In an area where snow and ice of this scale are so rare, it seems silly to horde precious money for situations like these.

My suggestion: embrace it. Big kids need snow days too.

LISTEN TO "FLYING" BY THE BEATLES

REDRUM

Precipitation in Portland is a familiar occurrence and something to which the citizenry is entirely expectant. However, this past week's weather has turned the populace on its ear and once again proved that the city is unprepared for snow.

While many states and cities make room in their budgets for snow and ice control, Oregon and Portland see it so infrequently that it doesn't make sense to set much money aside. Governor Ted Kulongoski was recently forced to slash all spending due to the troubled economy. Further compounding Portland's financial predicament, Mayor Sam Adams said today that the city has spent nearly $1 million over the past week in an effort to clear roadways.

The television stations have forgone their regularly scheduled programming in favor of round-the-clock redundant news coverage that consists solely of weather reports and in-the-field correspondents shivering as they report that "yes, it's still snowing" or "yes, there is still snow on the ground."

Though it's only day two of the second phase of what KGW is calling "Arctic Blast," I've been welcoming the inclement weather. After enduring the playful blame game that I brought the snow back with me from Alaska, I haven't been to work. My office (like many others in the city) has closed its doors until things let up.

My house isn't quite snowed in but there's about a foot of snow piled up and even more blown up against the fence. But if I absolutely had to get somewhere, I probably could.

Still, staying in has been awesome. After countless busy weekends, the lady and I have been able to work on household projects and relax. We've suited up and walked to the grocery store. We've been burning fires and drinking lots of wine. She's been baking too, which works out well for me.

I imagine that cabin fever will soon be setting in; I'll start seeing strange things and scrawling REDRUM onto the walls. For the time being though, I'm just happy to be comfortable and warm, peacefully watching the delicate snow color my neighborhood white.

LISTEN TO "SKATING" BY THE VINCE GUARALDI TRIO

thisiswhereIis

I'm in Anchorage, Palin-Land! See the tall group of buildings just left of center? The third tallest structure in the city? Well, that thar orangey tower is where I'm staying. The features across the water, almost from where this photo was taken, are just as rugged as those pictured.

I'm not gloating, I'm just stoked to see and soak up another part of this country.Look how big this state is! Even though it's giant, there are hardly any people here--they're all clustered. Come to think of it, governing this state for a little bit would be a great experience; maybe a great enough experience to qualify one for the second highest office in the nation!

LISTEN TO M.I.A.

Dead Confederate

Just listening to these guys, you can bet they have long greasy hair and bitchin beards. They probably wear soiled flannels and denim that smells like your hippie uncle. It should come as no surprise then that the tunes they churn out are as ragged and slow-rolling as the whiskey and weed-influenced guys who made them.

Their debut album Wrecking Ball has the air of a hangover, cloudy and disconnected but with the awareness that it’ll soon pass. One moment your eyes are half-shut, coasting on the vaguely alt-country groove of “It Was a Rose,” when you’re suddenly startled to attention by the throbbing pounds of the bombastic rhythm section. The heavily distorted and atmospheric thrashing that colors much of the record provides more storm than shelter for the singer, who whines woefully in a voice reminiscent of Kurt Cobain’s grungy howl. The spirit of Cobain lives on “Start Me Laughing” which sounds like a preacher wrestling the devil to the ground while “All The Angels” smolders slower than dripping pine sap before exploding into a brushfire.

It's cool stuff that probably translates better in a live setting than on record. And even though the group is starting to get a little buzz going, I don’t hear anything compelling enough to put them over the edge and get them to full-tilt party mode.

LISTEN TO GONER OR THE RAT