posts from the edge...

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 03:32:00 +0000

NEW BLOG SITE HERE:

www.postsfromtheedge.com

Go there. Do not come back here. Ever.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Sat, 09 May 2009 19:40:00 +0000

Pack It. Ship It. Brrrrp! Brrrp!

This blog is moving. Correction, it moved. HERE.

I shipped it on over to it's own special domain along with a new publisher, Wordpress. The new blog is far from formatted and I need to work on a cool new theme but it was an act of god that I figured out how to get it there in the first place.

The move allows me to have my own domain name and work with a much better program. Hopefully I'll ditch my ex-boyfriend's psycho stalker girlfriends in the move but I won't loose the cool guys. You know, like Trout at TroutUnderground.com.

If you're one of my 5 loyal readers, update your bookmarks or RSS feed to: www.postsfromtheedge.com

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 17:45:00 +0000

Cruising Petfinder.Com

Lazy day here as I recover from the Midwest Mountaineering Expo. I had a pretty vivid dream last night about the former Suggen the Wonderdog. That resulted in a curious search on Petfinder. Dangerous stuff out there. I'm sure this one will be gobbled up in a second. She could, quite possibly, be the reincarnation of Suggen.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 13:11:00 +0000

An Early Birthday Present

Thank you, Canadian government.

(Nice find, WSB.)

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 03:09:00 +0000

Ahhhhhhh...

Chaco time. Anytime I can get on my sandals before my birthday is a small victory. Now I'll just have to stay in Madison until Doolooth decides to warm up.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 15:27:00 +0000

Happy Easter

This explains why I have not found my Easter basket yet this morning. Damn.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 05:07:00 +0000

Obligatory Google Search Post

I suck. My posts have been way down. I dunno. I've been Twittering and Facebooking and holy crap, are those words? There's too much social media. Too much noise and not enough thought for a good MK post. No meat. Just fat.

In the past year, there's a lot less drama in my life. You know, the kind with a lyin', cheatin', POS that gets one girl preggers on my dime and then without as much letting the sheets cool, gets his best friend's daughter knocked up. At the age of 50. I'm not bitter. Actually, I've decided that it's such a great story that it can't go untold. And when I tell it, there's usually someone usually ends up spitting out their drink in complete disbelief. By the grace of God, I have been able to truly find humor in it all. In my mind I am sort sort of cartoon character slotted as the underdog that comes out on top of it all. With a cape. And spandex. And maybe some cool boots. On top and without illegitimate children! Yay! Can I get a high five?

Let's see... I found myself a roommate who is not only fiscally responsible, she does not try to hit me. She does not have Whiskey Plates on her vehicle either. I have been on several dates with one particular male (*gasp*) over the past 6 months. He has passed inspection from several members of my Board of Well Being. Brad even got him to dance, solo, to 80's music, in front of my whole industry. I might see him again.

With out all the suffering and beating my head against the wall, there seems to be little to stir the proverbial pot of deep thought. It's a co-dependent relationship, really.

As a birthday resolution (the MK new year begins April 21, everyone.... that's APRIL 21) I will come up with some good reads. I would love to publish the story about the trip to the gynecologist after a dinner of General Tso's Chicken. But my dad reads this damn thing.

In the meantime, I've been given fair warning that I am going to be googled by an area guild of web guys, former newspaper employees, and general media types who have some things in the works here in Duluth. I didn't know until after I pressed send in the "I'm interested" page that they would do this. So, here's the part where you leave all sorts of great comments about how you love my writing . Maybe you post a link to your favorite post. Maybe you say how despite my lack of professional training, my deplorable sentence structure and abundant typos, I should be involved with a grassroots movement in my community to get out the news. Or at least tell a good story or two. Now, press the "Comments" link under the post and have at it.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 00:26:00 +0000

The Things I Do For Buyers

Here's a photo of the owner of Rutabaga Paddlesports serenading me at a vendor banquet for Canoecopia -- their annual (and gigantic) paddlesports show. It is the one thing that I can not possibly bear -- being serenaded. But given the puppet strings these guys have on me, I allowed it. It must have been my boots. Red cowboy boots have a way of transforming one's psyche.

(Thanks to PembaServes for capturing the moment.)

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Sat, 28 Mar 2009 18:25:00 +0000

Getting Me Through March

This time of year blows chunks. Too cold and wet to bike. Snow sports are over. Too early to paddle as most water up north is still in a semi-solid state. So I watch hockey. College hockey. The women's season came to an abrupt end when the Badgers handed the Bulldogs their asses on a silver platter. The Badgers have been bringing their A-game since day one of the season and with class, so I really can't hate them for it. That and they're not those deplorable rodents from Minneapolis.

The UMD Men's team stepped up their game late in the season and shocked us all by winning the WCHA title. They're on the NCAA track and last night's game against the Ivy League snobbery, Princeton, contained THE most exciting 30 seconds of hockey I have ever seen in my life. Even if you don't like hockey, you'll be on the edge of your seat.

Here's the set up:

Third (and final for you non-hockey folks) period and UMD is down two goals.
UMD pulls the goalie to add an extra attacker.
Princeton earns a penalty in that last minute setting up a 6 on 4 scenario.
Watch the last 40 seconds. It's unreal. (Sorry for the crap video, it's all I could find. UMD in white jerseys.)

Hopefully they'll do it again tonight against Miami U so that I can have another week of hockey to look forward to in this crap time of year where playing outside is not a reality.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Mon, 23 Mar 2009 23:16:00 +0000

And So It Begins...

Canoecopia was last week and what a week it was. I added a couple of talks to my roster which added stress. Stress that wasn't really necessary-- meaning I had nothing to stress about. People were spending money and the money was pretty close to what they spent last year. The paddlesports industry breathed a collective sigh of relief. I had a great team working for me that was a keen reminder that the industry can be fun and productive at the same time.

Here's a super sweet video from Byran Smith & Lise Anne Beyries that captured some highlights of the weekend. Keep a lookout for Kokatat's Customer Service Superstar, Matt Porter, as he highlights Kokatat's new Nomad footwear. See if you catch the "pun".

Canoecopia 2009 from Werner Paddles on Vimeo.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 05:43:00 +0000

Um, Hello... Lake? I'd like to paddle soon.

Sweet shot of ice cover on the Lake today from NOAA.

The good news is that it's been a good year for ice. This is a good set up for healthy lake levels as evaporation in the winter from lack of ice cover really takes its toll.

Bad news? The new dragon boat paddle that I get to test drive from Kialoa Paddles might not see water for a while.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 00:11:00 +0000

Aggravating

As I type, I'm listening to MPR and hearing about the millions of dollars that we are going to throw at the auto industry. Again. Yet another reason I am never having children-- they will never be able to dig out of the insurmountable debt of the the constant bailing out of thoughtless industry that can't see 5 minutes in front of them.

My pal, Canoelover, just returned from Italy where he drove a car with ASTOUNDING mileage. Not too tiny of a car, either. Head on over to his blog and read his list of cars that we should have. In the US of A. RIGHT FREAKING NOW.

Tonight I wonder where my bailout is. I owe Honda some serious cash. Rent is due in 2 weeks and lets not talk about the heat bill for the month of Janruary. I can't fathom how to pay it and it's not because I've been taking luxury vacations and paying myself ridiculous salaries. No, it's because some jerk faces owe me money at a time when I don't make a lot of money. There's no bailout for me. I don't want no stinkin' bailout. I'll turn on the computer and send out some more emails, research some more outlets, put together some more mailers. I'll work a little longer, a little harder, and hopefully a little smarter to come out on the top. At which point I will buy myself a European car, ship it over the big pond, and take a drive through Detroit where I will give the bird to industry who cannot seem to figure out that it's time to change their business model to match the changing times.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 22:26:00 +0000

Happy Valentine's Day. Suckers.

Sent to me by countless people. I wonder what that means?

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 19:47:00 +0000

The Money is Lousy but the Beer is Abundant

Outdoor Retailer. Winter Market '09. Mountain Hardwear booth. Drinking some bad 3.2 beer from Utah. But hey, it was free. Free is good. And I think this puffy down coat goes well with my eyes.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Wed, 28 Jan 2009 16:18:00 +0000

Commissions

I am a little in the dark and am reaching out to you, my lovely blog community, for some enlightenment.

Can someone tell me why it is okay to not pay commissions to reps on a timely basis, if at all? Are we really that low of life form that the work we do for the company is so low class that we do not deserve to be paid as consistently as payroll staff? Really? We are no expense to you-- no health insurance, state payroll taxes, no IRA contribution, benefits of any kind. We simply want our agreed share of the sale. That usually happen A YEAR AGO.

In my mind, if I get treated as a second-class citizen, then I can only return that quality of work. It's a vicious cycle of dysfunction, folks. And I don't like it. One bit. But if I'm missing some key piece of info here, I'm willing to hear it. Lay it on me.

Last minute addition: It's important to note that I have a couple lines that are awesome partners and I can always count on them to have the check in the mail, on time, every time. I have to remember to work a little extra for them.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 21:21:00 +0000

Today's Mindfulness Reminder

It's trade show season and they are more back to back than ever. Starting IMMEDIATELY after the holiday (which is a nuthouse anyway) and go, go, GO, from there. For four more weeks. If I wanted the sensation if dull forks in my eyeballs, I could draw it out and do JUST ONE MORE in February.

All of this means I am busy making sure I have my shit together for everything.... but myself.

Departing out of Minneapolis today meant a short jaunt to my new flop house ala Aalberg. I chose to pack a separate tote with pj's, travel outfit, and toiletries to avoid hauling the suitcase in and out. Last move would be to throw the kit in the case before check in and....whoosh.... of I go.
Well I'll be dammed if I didn't leave the overnight tote WITH ALL MY MAKEUP AND TOILETREES IN sub-arctica, Duluth. *&^(*#&(*&#^@*&@!@@&#*!. A trip to Walgreens and I'm resupplied for the next two weeks.

I arrive at the check in counter to learn that the flight to O'Hare is canceled. Moments later, a call from Casa de Aalberg to inform me the that some of my re-supply WAS LEFT BEHIND AGAIN. Seriously? Um, could someone please locate my brain for me?

Re-booked on a flight to Dallas. Mad dash to The Body Shop, which I love, and oh-my-god if they're weren't having a major sale on products that usually retail $15-$20 a pop. Only problem is, if I want foundation, I have to go with the color that an African-American might apply and a blush color only to be found on the cheeks of a scooter-bound greeter at Wal-Mart. Now, I'm not sure if any of you have noticed my skin tone, but pasty white ain't too far off. Somehow, for $3 each-- I am going to make it work. I may look like I have the worst fake-bake tan in the world, but I am going to make this work, dammit.

The painful irony in all of this is that I rarely wear make-up. When I do, it's not much. I step it up for weddings, funerals, and trade shows. I am currently supplied for the next 20 years or so. Maybe I can sell my used-once make-up on Craigslist.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Mon, 12 Jan 2009 06:09:00 +0000

When the Trade Show Gets a Little Slow...

... the gloves come off. SuperRep, Steve S.

SuperRep Janice E. cowers in fear at the sight of my new mitts.

(Many thanks to the PembaServes Reps for the opportunity to screw off. )

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 03:39:00 +0000

Chapters

I don't have a lot of close friends from high school. No particular reason other than I just went my own way and didn't keep in touch with most. Except for Toni. And really, the credit all goes to her for keeping up with my ever changing address and finding out if I returned from whatever adventure I had conjured up that year.

In many ways, Toni and I are completely different people. She: a super-mom of three gorgeous children, wife & partner to uber-dad and high-school sweetheart JA, living in the 'burbs of a major metropolitan area. Me: none of the above and not even remotely close to the accomplishment. Toni would have a blast dressing for a formal event. I would have an anxiety attack. Toni could pound down a banana split with little effort and would remain unchanged. (Read: You could quite possibly not see her if she turned sideways.) After the effects of lactose intolerance of said ice cream treat wore off, I would weigh and additional 10 pounds. You probably could look at me and say, "MK, is that a banana split attached to your left hip?"

For all the differences there are common threads. Toni and I are the babies of our respective families. Daughters to dads who threw us into the world with some common sense on our shoulders and the skill to change our own damn tire, thank-you-very-much. Many of my Saturday nights in grade school involved coming up with schemes to stay overnight at her house. I think that when you know a person from the age of 5 that is not a family member, you sort of become a family member. You are siblings on another level. Perhaps part of it is obligation (as familial relationships can often be) but I like to think it is more about understanding a person to their very core.

Not too long ago, Toni walked the difficult path of saying good bye to her mother, a woman that she had talked on the phone with every day for the last several years. Her mom had been suffering from a myriad of medical conditions that had caused a great deal of suffering in her last years. Toni was one of the first of my group of friends to get married and to have kids. And now the first to bury one of their parents. And I, let alone her, am not ready for that chapter in life.

It's the realization that no matter how old you get, you are always still the children to your parents. (This is demonstrated easily during the holidays when families fall into the same dynamics that existed when the kids were still at home.) No matter how much you have struck out on your own, demanded to be treated like an adult, created your own life and sometimes additional little lives, I don't think you are ever quite ready to say goodbye to the most constant feature in your life. At 32, or 52-- I get the feeling it doesn't ever change.

By the time I get around to editing this post, Toni will have survived the holidays, her birthday and a wedding anniversary since the passing of her mother. And while I know she'll continue to plow through, I couldn't help but to stop and think of her during these times, knowing that she would have liked to shared them with her mom.

Perhaps the only solace we have is in the wisdom of her middle child who, after processing the news of his grandmother's passing, went upstairs to his room where he could look out the window into the sky where he knew his grandmother now resided. Spirituality, simplified for us in the innocence of children.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 23:32:00 +0000

Stuff

I've got a lot of stuff in my garage. Mostly samples. Gear. Hardgoods. Stuff to go camping. Interested? Shoot me an email and I'll shoot you a list. megankress at gmail dot com.

Stellar deals, good prices. And hey-- Christmas is right around the corner.

Identify yourself if you read and I don't know you. I already have too many freaks in my life--- past and present. I know that sounds funny, but I'm really not kidding.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 20:24:00 +0000

Why, MK? Why Are You So Crazy?

Because I am a product of my parents. Behold their insanity.

Yes folks, this is the house that I grew up in. Narrowly dodging peer ridicule, they put up the...uh...er, "artwork" well after my departure from the nest. That and the Painted Lady decor. There goes any hopes of being a trustafarian.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 16:23:00 +0000

Ralph

A quarter mile down the street is Hawk Ridge. A natural area right here in town so named for the yearly phenomenon of the migration of hundreds of thousands of raptors every fall. As the birds migrate south from their arctic and taiga breeding grounds in Canada, they run into Lake Superior and are reluctant to cross it's chilly waters. Hawks can go such great distances riding on thermals, the circular columns of warm air that rise from the earth. Lake Superior doesn't support thermals. In fact, it's probably a big heat sink. Rather than expending valuable energy to fly across the lake, the hawks follow the ridge lines of The Lake by soaring from thermal to thermal as they push south. There concentration of bids on the tip of western Lake Superior is so great that bird counts are in the tens of thousands. In 2003, a daily record number of one species alone, The Broad Winged Hawk, totaled over 100,000. IN ONE DAY, PEOPLE! This time of year, the last of them are moving through and generally are Rough-legged, Red-tail, and Goshawks.

Buteos lagopus

I was traveling on Jean Duluth Rd, just above Hawk Ridge. A large *thunk* and a quick look in my mirror showed an object propelled straight up into the air. I hit the brakes and backed up. I saw a creature twitching a bit. I was seriously prepared to kill it to eliminate any suffering if it wasn't fully dead. I approached the creature half thinking it was a grouse because of how low it had been flying. (That and the fact that I've been known to knock off a couple grouse with the car before-- they aren't the brightest in the avian bunch.) My heart fell when I saw it was not a wild chicken. Its markings and fully feathered legs were that of a Rough-legged Hawk. Why a grouse has less value than a hawk, I'm not quite sure. Funny how as humans, we assign value and status to the natural world rather than put it all on a level playing field. The Atomic Blue Toaster and Ralph the Rough-legged wanted to be in the same space at the same time last night. Sadly, the Toaster won. Somewhere, a vole or a shrew is high-fiving its friend in celebration of a narrow escape.

He was dead. I was crushed. I wrapped up Ralph's body in a towel and placed him in the back of the Toaster. I had a couple people in mind that might be able to take him and get him all taxidermied up for educational purposes. Last resort was to take him into the woods a bit and give him back to the earth. The scavengers gotta eat too. I just wasn't going to have it be on a the side of the road.

The reason for the name. Aren't his legs fabulous?

After a strike out with the Biology Dept and the lack of funds in the Environmental Ed Program at UMD, I'm thrilled to share that Ralph the Rough-Legged Hawk is going on to serve his next life with Debbie at the Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory. She was more than happy to take him off my hands as they didn't yet have one and Rough-leggeds are her favorite.

I gotta love a bird that chooses to spend his summers in the high Arctic. Hell, he's adapted for it by growing feathers all the way down to his feet. Smart bird. I did my best to make the Karmic wheel spin in my favor after an unfortunate meeting. I hope Ralph sees it that way.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 02:40:00 +0000

If You Have To Fly West...

... I recommend flying into Portland, Oregon. Make sure you are sitting on the right hand side of the plane.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 17:30:00 +0000

Hockey? At a Sales Meeting? In Canada? Of Course!

Sorry for the down time, fans. Traveling across multiple time zones in a week and sitting in meetings all day doesn't motivate my brain for writing. I will give you something to chew on... a sales meeting that has a hockey tourney built into it. What, I ask, could be better? Well, I'll tell you. Being on the winning team and scoring some points for Canada Goose Reds is what could be better. Coming home a little black and blue? Better yet.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 20:16:00 +0000

Party, anyone?

This fetus cookie cutter makes me want to throw a baby shower for someone. Not so sure everyone would see the humor in it.

Via Boing Boing, From Craft Magazine.

megankress@gmail.com (mk) — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 03:42:00 +0000

Eddie Fitz

This is really a shout out for my Midwestern pal K-toy who's turned Vermont hippie. Crunchiness aside, she's a good Midwesterner at heart with a hard work-ethic, a scrappy-when-needed-attitude, and the only girl I know that can burp louder than me. K-toy can't get enough of the Great Lakes Shipping action which I see daily out my living room window as I gaze upon THE GREATEST LAKE EVER. I am forced to love the thousand footers up to 25 times a day in the summer as I wait to cross the lift bridge so I can get to the beach. And then again on my way back home.

This time of year, K-toy reminds me of my father who will remind me of historic dates to note because if I do not, I myself, little old me, here in the hinterland of Northern Minnesota, practically Canada, AM DOOMED TO REPEAT THEM. (Dec 7, 1941....or, June 6, 1944....anyone? anyone?) I usually wake up to an email this date every year reminding me of the significance of November 10, 1975-- The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. A subtle reminder of the power of The Lake. Just a tiny one. Small, really.

It's almost a full moon and a rather quiet night out there-- nothing like the boat breaking waves and gales of November she is capable of. (Granted, that could all change in a matter of an hour.) I'll nod my head to the poor souls that perished in the frigid waters and remember to never get take those calm waters for granted.

Signing off from dry land by the Big Lake they call Gitchee Gumee.