Goodbye Blogger, Hello Wordpress!

It was a really tough decision—ok, no, it wasn’t—but I’m officially abandoning Blogger and hopping over to Wordpress. Blogger is the only Google product that disappoints me. It works ok for regular blogspot.com blogs, but FTP blogs- not so much. It’s clunky, temperamental, and rigid. Wordpress isn’t perfect, but it’s stable and versatile. Plus it’s got better widgets, the ability to create multiple pages, and a wider variety of templates. Since mine is an FTP blog (it resides on my own domain rather than a blogspot subdomain), publishing with Blogger is delay-prone, error-ridden pain in the butt. Wordpress will allow me to post, edit, and customize things much easier.

I’ll be migrating the site over for the next day or so, and everything should be working properly by the end of the week. The URL will remain the same (www.bonnevillemariner.com), but the format will be different. For those of you who subscribe to my RSS feed, the feed URL will obviously change. Check back by Friday and you can re-subscribe to the new feed. You may see a handful of older posts come through on the feed, but that’s just me doing some housekeeping.

Vending Machine Freakiness: A Sign?

Could this be some weird what-comes-around-goes-around lesson, or are the vending machines at work just having some April Fools Day fun at my expense?

So yesterday I go into the break room to get a granola bar from the vending machine. I drop in 75 cents (an absolute rip-off, I know. But what I am I going to do when I don’t have time to grab breakfast before I leave?). The machine steals my money and I walk away hungry and mad. I walk in later that afternoon to buy a Diet Pepsi, which, at $1.25 is even more of a rip-off. I insert 4 quarters and realize I don’t have the 5th. So I hit the coin return button. Nothing.

All I’ve got is a $5 bill, so I walk over to the food machine that robbed me earlier because it accepts $5 bills. If I buy something there, I’ll get $4.25 back in quarters. Then I can add my final quarter to the Pepsi machine and get my Diet Pepsi. I insert my $5 and buy the only thing in there that’s somewhat healthy- the granola bar I was robbed of earlier and that I’ve been craving all day. Not only do I get my granola bar, but the machine graciously drops an extra one, then returns my $4.25.

I drop the final quarter in the Pepsi machine and press the Diet Pepsi button. It drops not one, but two regular Pepsi’s, which took me about 10 minutes to wiggle from the slot. At this point I figure that even though it gave me the wrong bottles, I didn’t see any “Buy One, Get One Free” signs anywhere, so I owe the Pepsi machine $1.25. I figured I’d call the 800 number the next day and inform them that their Pepsi machine was giving away free pop.

That was yesterday. I return today to buy an actual Diet Pepsi (expecting perhaps a Dr. Pepper) and this time, no Pepsi of any variety. I push the coin return. Nothing. Looks like we’re even.

Labels: Site Updates, Weekly Run-Down

Regular readers of this website know of my fascination with the American South. I'm a 5th generation Utahn on both sides, and before marrying my Texas belle I had never set foot in a southern state. Yet every time I visit the South, I feel like I'm coming home. The South is an essential element of Americana. It's more than just the food, the music, and culture. It's the underlying roots of these things- a unique blend of nature, peoples, and history- that have fused together in time's crucible to form a rich and enduring character.

I'm not sure, as an outsider, that I can ever truly understand the South. Author/Guide/Blogger/History buff Debra Goodrich does. Deb was born in Mt. Airy, NC- Andy Griffith's home town and the real-life model for the fictional "Mayberry". She grew up in the nearby Blue Ridge foothills and is a southern girl to the core. She has spent much of her life researching the historic figures and events that shaped the South. I recently asked her for some insight on the South, and the following is the first half of our cyber interview:

BONNEVILLEMARINER: If you could travel back in time only once to any point in southern history, where would you go and which event would you witness?

DEB GOODRICH: I would go back to about 1850, to Ararat, Virginia, and Mount Airy, North Carolina, where I grew up. The communities--The Hollow, Doe Run, My great-grandparents and great-great grandparents would have been children, and when I read the census reports from that year it awakens so much curiosity in me about the families that would intermarry, the roads that would be built, the men who would go off to war. Jeb Stuart's family was still in the neighborhood, and I would like to hang out at the post office and watch the families stopping to get their mail. I'd like to go to Galax and Fries and Independence, over to Indian Valley, up to Roanoke, down to Winston and Salem and Boone and Yadkinville across the state line. So there is no real event I'd choose to see, just the daily lives of my ancestors.

BM: If you could have dinner with one historical southern figure, who would it be and why?

DG: I've thought often about this and posed the question to several folks myself, and the answer is difficult. Since I've been working for so long on the life of Varina Davis, I would most enjoy sitting down with her, but at what point in her life and in what context? Varina, like most Southern society, or society of any part of the world, was conscious of class. Would she accept me as a reporter? Since she was a writer, I think so, but I'm not sure. As an author, I might be acceptable on her social level, but as just a "Common White," as my former professor put it, Varina might not feel free to open up to me. Would I want to interview the First Lady of the Confederacy, a woman shuffling children and national diplomacy? Or would I choose to speak with the elderly Varina who had suffered the deaths of five children and her husband who could reflect on her extraordinary life? Would she be insulted, embarrassed, exposed to know I had read the private letters between her and her husband or closest friends? She possessed a tremendous heart, which grew as she grew older, but had been so wounded. A part of my desire to talk with her is simply woman to woman, not as a journalist or historian, but simply as someone who has been inspired by her courage and compassion. I would very much like to take her hand between mine and tell her how often I have thought of her and wished her peace.

BM: A southern-based travel agent once told me "When you come here, the South will get in your blood. Doesn't matter if you go to Louisiana, Kentucky, or North Carolina. It's all the same. It'll be in your blood for the rest of your life." What is it about the American South that makes it so distinct? What makes it bleed so deep into the American psyche?

DG: Many people have tried to answer this, and I understand it more deeply and believe it more strongly as I travel, but find it more difficult to put into words. Perhaps watching Paula Deen on the Food Channel explains it best. People perceive Southerners as having more fun. I hate to make it sound that trivial, but I believe at the heart of the matter, that is it. There's all this hype about storytelling and Southern hospitality, and the pace of life's being slower in the South, but I think what this all boils down to is "We're having more fun!" That's why people visit the South, move to the South, won't leave the South. Church and Family and Society translate to getting together-for food, for music, for drink. Even for the Baptists who don't drink in public, the ultimate goal is always a party. People are forever planning how to get together, where to get together, when to get together, and who's going to bring the potato salad. That is the focus of Southern life. Some folks manage a job or some major accomplishments along the way, but that's pretty much it--getting together.

Stay tuned for part II. You can check out Deb's musings at her blog, Mason-Dixon Wild West. For information on tours, books, and talks, visit www.tomanddeb.com.

Labels: American South, History, Weekly Run-Down

I've been having one of those weeks where for some reason my mind works only in list format- lists of things to do, new years resolutions, ideas for my Transcript Bulletin articles, database server IP's for work, etc. So in keeping with this peculiar train of thought, this week's round-up consists of two unrelated random lists that have been floating around in my head lately.

Faces I'd like to see less of in outdoor magazines:

Every outdoors nut loves outdoors magazines. I read them because I like to analyze the writing styles in the feature articles and look at the numerous gear ads (I imagine having enough money to actually buy the stuff). But these mags also hack me off because they all practically worship an elite pantheon of "adventure gods."

Take Richard Branson, for example. The prettyboy billionaire Virgin CEO is everywhere. I'm hard-pressed to open any outdoors magazine and not see his his dyed blonde locks flowing somewhere within its pages. Sure, when he's not doing photo shoots for outdoors magazines, he's breaking world records, flitting around the globe on his planes, and building spaceships. But when you have that much time and money, what else are you going to do?

Then there's Aron Ralston, the solo climber that got pinned under a boulder in Utah's remote Blue John Canyon and had to cut his own arm off with a knock-off Leatherman. Outdoor magazines can't get enough of him. But had Ralston taken a partner with him or simply not survived the ordeal, he would have been lucky to get a blip on the local news along with snowboarders buried in avalanches they've accidentally triggered and fools stuck on ledges.

And I admire Lance Armstrong all day long, but reading the major outdoor magazines you'd think he was the only person ever to don spandex shorts and ride a bike. I like the guy, but I'm not sure we need a cover story on him every other month.

Gee, that was a grumpy list, huh? Let's get to the positive.

Some of my favorite writers:

I'm not really into fiction. What little reading time I get I'd rather spend with history, news, or real-life stories. I don't have time for pretend. So I apologize that J.K Rowling and John Grisham don't make my list. A good non-fiction writer can spin computer programming instructions into the most thrilling thing you've ever read. Here are a few of my favorites:

My favorite writer is freelancer Steve Friedman. I discovered him in Backpacker Magazine, but he's regularly published in major newspapers like The New York Times and The Washington Post, and is the author of three books. His writing style is a combination of self-deprecating humor and what I like to call "thinking out loud." I'd love to link to some of my favorite Friedman articles, but his website is under construction and the links to past articles have been (hopefully temporarily) removed. One of his more recent pieces, Lost in America, was featured in Best American Travel Writing 2007. Read it at backpacker.com.

Another of my favorites is Tom Goodrich. Tom is a Civil War historian and the author of several books (my favorite is Scalp Dance). He currently writes for Wild West Magazine's official blog. When he's not writing books or shooting the breeze on his blog, Tom and wife Deb (who we'll hear from on this website probably next week) can often be seen talking history in TV documentaries. Tom has a knack for digging to the heart of his subjects and telling stories in the words of the participants themselves. I always tell people my goal is to write campfire stories. These are the kind of stories Tom writes.

Dan Baum is another freelancer, whose articles have appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times Magazine, Wired, and other national magazines. He collaborates with Margaret Knox and most everything, but most of their stuff appears under his byline. Dan's work lately has focused on post-Katrina New Orleans, and his New Orleans Journal on The New Yorker's website is an excellent read. He and Margaret are working on a book about New Orleans that's due out next year.

Richard Menzies is best known for his work in the Salt Flat News, a quirky Wendover-based newspaper that ran in the early 1970's. Menzies' articles and unique photographs made the Salt Flat News a collector's item. "The original idea was that we would have a newspaper where nothing happens in the middle of nowhere," Menzies said in an interview with the Deseret News.

Menzies' most recent work is "Passing Through: An Existential Journey Across America's Outback." This book chronicles Menzies' experiences in the forgotten hinterlands of eastern Utah and western Nevada. The book is a must-read for anybody interested in these mysterious deserts and the people who call them home.

Labels: Weekly Run-Down

New Feature- the Run-Down

I've received several comments from friends and readers about the format of this website. My main goal with this site is to present formal, hopefully professional articles. Yes, it's a blog format written on a Blogger template, but I kind of cringe when people call it a blog. Because I'm a perfectionist, I don't really like to post random musings and half thoughts. Lately I've been torn between the occasional, full article format and a more frequently updated blog-type format. For now I've decided to compromise by adding a weekly update in order to get stuff in when I don't have time to write a full article.

Tooele Transcript Bulletin

Last week's article had to be held for space reasons (dang that Black Friday) but it will run in this Thursday's paper. I will post the teaser as soon as it publishes. The article is more of a humor piece about the crazy foods we eat in the outdoors.

Best. Barbecue. Ever.

On the subject of food, I believe I've found the best barbecue known to mankind. I spent last week in northeast Texas and was tipped off to a little place called Clark's Outpost Barbecue in the blink-and-you-miss-it town of Tioga. It lies just off the highway at the end of a cool old-timey downtown and across from a horse insurance building. I had smoked brisket and homemade smoked sausage. Meadow had the smoked turkey.

This meat will make you cry. And the sides- oh the sides. Deep-fried corn on the cob, coleslaw, jalapeño black-eyed peas, and collard greens to die for. You think you wouldn't like collard greens? Believe me, you'd eat these and beg for more. Why, oh why do we not have more good barbecue places in Utah?

Texas Tales

On a searing August day a few years ago in Middle-of-Nowhere, Texas, I walked up to a farmer cutting hay and asked if I could explore his land. Much of his 300 acre spread is covered by dense forest and near impenetrable thickets that cover a historic segment of Choctaw Creek. The man gave me permission, but said I'd be wiser to come back sometime in the winter when the critters hibernate and the woods are easier to walk through. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and if I were to surprise a cottonmouth, nobody would be able to find my dead body for days.

Last week I returned to that same farm and met the same farmer, who shuttled me through the woods in his Kawasaki Mule to an old abandoned railroad bridge and a few other beautiful and interesting places. Look for more on this in a series of Texas-related articles I hope to post in January.

Labels: Weekly Run-Down