Editorial 11.1, January 2009, by Deirdre Helfferich Ten Renewable Ukeleles (Sorta) Ten Ever-Lovin’ Blue-Eyed Years This issue marks the tenth year of The Ester Republic’s publication. The paper will have officially survived for a full decade on January 27, which is the day the first issue came out, back in 1999. (The fact that it’s been around this long has less to do with the success of the business and more to do with the obsessive determination of the publisher to have an outlet in which to spout off.) In this time, the paper has gained a reputation as a quirky, left-wing, literary, independent, local news rag. It hasn’t managed to poke anybody solidly in the eye yet with our investigative journalism (although I did get threatened with lawyers once), but the editorial cartoons routinely win awards and get posted on the office walls of the victims (well, maybe not Sarah’s office, but we can hope). Amazingly good writers, poets, photographers, and illustrators have come out of the proverbial woods to contribute to the Republic, keeping the paper an enlivening read. I’ve been delighted with the quality of their work. The publisher aspires to the standard set by Mother Jones, Yes!, and Harper’s, only with more humor and less stuffiness. We’re working on it. One of these days we might actually get a reporter. In the meantime, a large party is in the works, tentatively scheduled for February. A Lack of Renewable Ambition Governor Palin earned praise recently when she announced a statewide goal of producing half of Alaska’s electricity from renewable sources by 2025. Alaska already generates 24 percent of its energy renewably, fortunately, so this won’t be as hard as it sounds. Barack Obama wants to get the nation to 25 percent by the same year. Yet these goals don’t do nearly enough. Now that we’ve hit peak oil production, fuel prices and supply sources are becoming more and more erratic. Mark Begich, like pretty much anybody in or running for national office from this state, is trotting out the “Drill in ANWR” refrain—the same tired, backward-looking “solution” that will do nothing for our national security or our energy needs. Besides which, oil is too valuable to burn. We had plenty of time to prepare for this back in the seventies when the artificially created OPEC Oil Crisis hit us—but then Reagan came into office and told us that we didn’t have to change our ways after all. I still remember being horrified when the solar panels came off the roof of the White House. Now, our back is against the wall of climate change, and our foreign policy is practically dictated by whoever has the gas and oil. 2008 was the eighth-warmest year on record, despite the blizzards in the Lower 48. We simply don’t have time to waste—and sixteen years to get to only a quarter of where we need to be is way too slow. The Ukelele Phenomenon A musical fad has taken hold in Ester lately that promises to swell into a thirteen-piece (at minimum) ukelele band. So far there are a multicolored array of Mahalo ukeleles from Music Mart, one electric uke, and two baritone ukes floating about the village. Most of these insturments arrived in the village shortly before, during, and after Christmas, ending up largely in the hands of the Cameron clan. I am one of these newbie uke nuts, and have been practicing tunes like “The Lumberjack Song” and “A Space Oddity” on ex-mayor Hannah’s girly-pink Mahalo ukelele (she’s got three: one black, one pink, and the aforementioned electric—which does, incidentally, rock). I’ve dabbled before with the piano and the guitar (also kazoo, harmonica, flute, clarinet, and thumb harp), but I actually seem to be learning chords and songs this time, so maybe it’ll stick. Hans and I went out and bought a brand-new baritone ukelele (a Lanikai, from Grassroots Guitar) for me the weekend before this went to the printer. I brought it down to the Eagle that night to show it off. Jeremy (local guitarist extraordinaire) barely restrained himself from pouncing on it and, after a moment or two of checking out its sound, proceeded to make it produce the most wonderfully impressive music I’ve ever heard come out of a ukelele. “It’ll take me a couple of years to be able to do that, Jeremy,” I said, in a feat of understatement that could have knocked a sizeable hole through the floor. I like the mellow sound of my new instrument, and managed to get my fingers all sore from practicing on it the very first night. I even found a few Crusty Olde Minstrels tunes, so who knows? Maybe I’ll be able to sit in. And it’ll be interesting to see what happens for the 4th of July parade… | ||
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