This is life in the Amazon jungle

This was a view from the jungle lodge where we stayed.

Sometimes you'll experience destinations in life that you're grateful to have seen but that also offer you renewed perspective on your own circumstances.

For me, the Amazon rainforest of Peru was one of those places. I've rarely witnessed a spot so simultaneously unique, beautiful, and inhospitable.

A glimpse inside Peru

Today, we visited one of the destinations on my bucket list. I feel blessed and grateful.

In the five or so days that we've been here in Peru, I've become captivated by this place — from the cloud forests and walls of jaw-droppingly steep mountains that surround Machu Picchu, to the incredible Inca monuments of the Sacred Valley, to the sky-piercing, glaciated peaks of the high Andes. And that's all from less than a week of sightseeing.

Tonight, we're in Aguas Calientes, the tiny village at the base of Machu Picchu that's literally wedged into a gorge next to a rushing river below towering, near-vertical mountain slopes. An absolutely incredible setting.

Tomorrow, we'll spend the morning again at Machu Picchu, and then we'll gradually begin our journey toward the second half of the trip — the Peruvian Amazon.

Much more to come as I have time (and web access).

We have to protect our last great places from us

Photo: Luca Galuzzi/Wikipedia

Sixty years ago, New Zealand mountaineer Edmund Hillary and his Sherpa companion, Tenzing Norgay, were confirmed as the first climbers to successfully reach the summit of Mount Everest, the world's tallest peak at 29,029 feet above sea level. To commemorate the anniversary, National Geographic recently did a fascinating article that highlights how much has changed about scaling the top of the globe over the past six decades.

As one might imagine, a lot of it isn't good.

There was a time, not long ago at all, when most of the world viewed Mount Everest the way nature intended: Majestic. Pristine. Forbidding. Inaccessible. Unforgiving. Indeed, a look at pictures of it even today evokes many of those same adjectives.

But as the National Geographic segment points out, things are no longer what they seem. Everest, like so many remarkable places on this planet, has turned into a magnet for commercialism and profit. People and governments make a lot of money by drawing climbers to the tantalizing (if hopelessly unrealistic) prospect of conquering the world's highest point — often, as the article notes, with little regard for experience or physical ability, and often to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars per expedition.

Bachmann's retirement isn't good for anyone, except the GOP (and her)

She might be leaving Capitol Hill, but she's not leaving your TV screen.

Democrats — and, no doubt, anyone who appreciates any semblance of sanity and civility in public discourse — were rushing to uncork the bubbly after the Minnesota congresswoman announced she wouldn't run for reelection next year.

Their celebrations may prove short-lived, I'm afraid.

Nate Silver at the New York Times points out the obvious: Michele Bachmann hails from a reliably conservative district, which includes the north and east exurbs of the Twin Cities, running all the way northwest to St. Cloud and rural areas beyond. If voters in that area sent her to the House of Representatives four times in a row, they'll very likely do the same for another Republican of comparable ideological ilk whose rhetorical tone isn't quite so akin to nails on a chalkboard.

Bottom line: If Bachmann had stayed in the race next year, there's a good chance Republicans might have lost her seat. (She barely won last year.) Now that she's withdrawn, she'll be replaced by another GOP candidate who will carry far less baggage — at least publicly — and have a far easier time in a district where conservatives are already favored.

Speaking of baggage, political strategist James Carville quipped on Wednesday that Bachmann's announcement is no gift to her opposition: Democrats will now have to rely on other right-wing extremists in the Republican Party — and granted, there are plenty of them — whose outrageous, inflammatory remarks they can broadcast in fundraising appeals and attack ads. Since 2006, Bachmann has served in that role fairly reliably.

And the congresswoman's personal motives behind her decision? Well, I'll gladly let The Onion speak to that.

Oh, and yes: There are those pesky ongoing investigations over financial ethics surrounding her presidential bid. To what degree did these play a role in her withdrawal? We'll find out soon enough, I'm sure.

Either way, make no mistake: Despite what her nausea-inducing video message says, this is all about fears that Michele Bachmann will lose next year; and in an era when Republicans are desperately trying to cling to their House majority so they can continue to obstruct everything, they're glad to do away with any tossup race they'd otherwise have to throw money at in 2014.

People are drawn to animals because we used to be just like them

This is our family dog, Stosh. He's loyal and mild-mannered and really
doesn't give much thought to anything except being
around the people who care for him.

Following last week's catastrophic tornado near Oklahoma City, I read that a team of "comfort dogs" has been deployed to the disaster zone to help provide some solace and emotional therapy for shaken survivors.

These dogs are veterans of other infamous sites of carnage, too — namely Joplin, Missouri; Newtown, Connecticut; and most recently, Boston.

They go to these places of destruction and grief, where hurting people can simply visit with them, pet them, and talk to them.

It's a fascinating idea, and it makes me think: Why are we so drawn to animals? Why do we find them therapeutic? What makes them such valuable companions?

People routinely refer to pets — and animals in general — as "cute" or "adorable," often the same descriptors we'd apply to a human baby or toddler. But what exactly do we mean by it?

Of course, on a visceral level, you know exactly what's meant. You feel it.

But what if you had to define it with words?

Here's my theory as to what we mean: Innocent. Pure. Full of untarnished, unbridled life.

This is why taxes and government are so important

Photo courtesy of Washington State Department of Transportation

It's truly incredible that no one was killed in the I-5 bridge collapse that occurred Thursday night near Mount Vernon, Washington, only about 60 miles north of where I live. In fact, to my knowledge, no one was even seriously injured. That's pretty amazing.

Now, of course, we can start focusing on why this happened, and how to prevent it from happening again. Preliminary reports attribute it to oversize truck cargo striking the bridge's support beams, though it's far from certain that this was the precipitating cause.

I just saw this article on NBC News about the potential economic effects of the bridge loss to Washington state and the West Coast. There's no doubt it will hurt: Interstate 5 is the only major north-south transportation arterial from the Bay Area of California all the way up to Vancouver, British Columbia. More than 70,000 vehicles per day on average passed over this bridge alone. That's a lot of people, and a lot of commerce.

Don't compromise public safety for profit

I read this past week that the National Transportation Safety Board wants to lower the legal threshold for drunken driving to a national blood-alcohol content (BAC) level of 0.05. I fully support this idea; the United States is in the minority among Western nations when it comes to allowing motorists to be on the road while above that limit.

And we shouldn't be. Don't tell me that we're a driving society, unlike many of those other countries, so we have to set different standards to accommodate that. Hogwash. That's just like saying we're a gun culture, so our laws should reflect that, no matter the cost.

We all know that terrible things can happen when inebriated people get behind the wheel. Lives are lost or shattered because of tragedies that could have been prevented if someone else had chosen to be responsible.

So, needless to say, I was disheartened to learn that a variety of special interests — including the American Beverage Institute, the Distilled Spirits Council, and the Brewers Association — have already come out against the proposal. Their rationale isn't surprising; they fear that a stricter law would reduce alcohol sales at restaurants and bars, having an adverse economic effect on the industry.

Here's my response to that: We need to stop sacrificing public safety over concerns about financial profit, and we need to stop it now.