Capital Capitol

I'm in gloomy Juneau where you'd never know there is going to be a recession- except maybe for a few clues. The main construction is the new transit station. Buses have always been popular here. Heritage Coffee, the landmark business downtown on Main St. opened 2 hours late. Everywhere are help wanted signs, but mainly for $9-14/hr. That won't help much in a town where apartments rent for $1000-2,000/mo. and you almost can't buy a house for less than $250,000 and that would be a shack.

The 36 degrees is a welcome break from -18 in Fairbanks. The streets are icy though from the snow forming a crusty underbelly to the steady rain from yesterday. In some ways, Juneau doesn't even seem like Alaska. People are dressed in suits and dresses and carrying briefcases. They hustle around downtown without making eye contact and with a strong sense of purpose. When I say "good morning", they look up and smile and respond in kind. They want to be Alaskans and small town, but they also need to make sure that Juneau remains the capital. History tells that Juneau became the capital to aid links with Seattle and Washington, DC, and it seems like that must be visual as well as in terms of infrastructure. In the new day of electronic communication, there must be a new reason to keep the capital here- not just inertia.

Sensory postcard: The tug in the harbor toots a testosterone sounding honk. Cars and buses crunch along the crusty ice on the roads. The scattered pedestrians, huddled into their designer coats against the damp chill, punctuate the air with cell phone rings. The smell of diesel and ozone is trapped between the towers of rock that corral the houses lining the narrow valley. Homes are squeezed out both ends of the toothpaste tube. Twilight comes early giving the "beware of bear" signs new significance. The shadowy early darkness sends humans scattering to resettle in the pockets of light in music of bars. Weekend has arrived.