I’ll look at community storytelling in the Mat-Su Valley, why oral tales matter, a lighthearted muskox dating stunt, a brief Texas roadside adventure, and a reminder about the political stakes tied to these cultural moments.
I tell stories for a living, though most days my audience is limited to family and the occasional neighbor. Hearing a tale in person is a different flavor than reading it on a page, and that live energy can turn an ordinary anecdote into something memorable. The art of storytelling depends on knowing when a yarn serves truth and when it drifts into garrulous rambling.
Alaska has a deep supply of stories: Native histories and myths, frontier chronicles, and gold rush memories that still echo across the tundra. A recent evening in the Mat-Su Valley gathered those strains into one room, showing how local narrative keeps a community’s identity alive. Events like that reinforce the shared ties that hold rural places together and give folks a chance to pass wisdom along in human voice.
Mat-Su Untold 2026: A Night of Community Storytelling brought together a sold-out crowd Friday for an evening of powerful, personal stories celebrating life in the Mat-Su Valley — and raised critical support for local nonprofit journalism.
Held at the Palmer Depot, the two-hour event featured seven local storytellers sharing true, deeply personal stories centered on the theme “Things That Move Us.” Inspired by the spirit of Arctic Entries, each story was told live, inviting the audience into moments of joy, humor, vulnerability, and resilience that reflect the shared experiences of living in the Mat-Su.
This year’s storytellers were Denise Statz, Ira Edwards, Brad Carper, Pat Durand, Michele Harmeling, Mikey Evans and Carly Schreck, whose stories drew joy and reflection throughout the evening.
That description captures the heart of why people stepped out on a Friday night: live stories that make you laugh, wince, and think. A sold-out crowd says something important about a place that wants to hear itself and be heard. It also shows why local institutions matter; community journalism and live events tend to reinforce one another.
On a lighter note, Valentine’s Day sparked a thoroughly Alaskan bit of mischief: a farm in Palmer put up dating profiles for muskoxen. The idea is silly and wholesome at once, and it fits the state’s long-running tendency to find humor in the everyday. If you’ve ever wanted romance with a touch of frostbite, Alaska will deliver.
Looking to make a connection with someone special for Valentine’s Day? You might be in luck.
The Musk Ox Farm in Palmer has set up dating profiles on its Facebook page for several members of its herd ahead of the holiday.
Among the bovine bachelors and bachelorettes is Bumblebee, a 3-year-old muskox who describes herself as “an independent lady who knows exactly what I want.”
There’s also 10-year-old Pixie Stick, who describes her perfect date as “a snowy day, a warm blanket and a good romance novel.”
“The musk oxen created their own [profiles]. We just kind of stood by,” said Mark Austin, Musk Ox Farm executive director. “They wanted to get out there and spread it out a little bit, so we supported that. Several of them got online, got their dating profiles out there and we’re just letting them go.”
Yes, it’s amusing to think of muskoxen swiping through profiles, but the stunt is harmless fun and a reminder that small institutions know how to engage a broader audience. Keeping it all within the species is a no-brainer, and the whole episode makes for a sweet Valentine’s vignette. It’s the sort of local news that brightens an otherwise gray February.
Travel outside Alaska sometimes sharpens the view back home, and a quick trip to Texas brought such a moment for me. Buc-ee’s is a shrine to road-trip convenience: oversized stores, endless snacks, and a kind of efficiency you don’t always find in the bush. That contrast—between Alaska’s sparse roadways and Texas’s gas-and-bite superstores—highlights how different regions solve simple problems.
My stop at Buc-ee’s was short and pungent with practicality: gas, jerky, a ridiculous array of souvenirs, and people on the move. Experiences like that are useful reminders about what community and commerce look like when scaled differently. They also make you grateful for the oddities of your own backyard.
Editor’s Note: The 2026 Midterms will determine the fate of President Trump’s America First agenda. Republicans must maintain control of both chambers of Congress.
Local events, farm humor, and roadside oddities are small things, but they feed civic life in ways national chatter often misses. The folks telling those stories are the same people who show up at town halls, volunteer for local causes, and keep free communities functioning. In 2026, those grassroots ties matter more than ever to preserve the traditions and freedoms that knit our states together.
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