Monthly Archives: December 2018

The Last Day of the Year

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2018 is drawing its last labored breaths. Some are reflecting back on the year’s past “highlights.” I will do something similar tomorrow (I hope) with my own year-end wrap.

This morning, in preparation for the evening’s “Auld Lang Syne,” I got out early hoping to beat the grocery cart zombies that will surely clog our local superette later in the day. Getting there a few minutes after 8:00 delivered zombie-free shopping aisles, fresh stock in the produce section, and a well-stocked beer and wine supply. By 8:20, I was at my car, ready for my next daily task: this one related to fitness, which today would be a a brisk walk around town.

I beat the grocery cart zombies!

Thanks to my good friend, Paul, I’ve grown fond of walking at Bowdoin College, like him. I’m now improvising my own treks around the historic campus where Civil War heroes once strolled. Paul and I are regular walking buddies and his own routines that he’s shared with me out and about at Brunswick’s historic campus now inform my own solitary rambles. Continue reading →

Three Minus One for Christmas (Mourning) Mix

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It’s hard to celebrate and feel joy when you’ve lost someone. Because of that, Christmas is an especially hard season for us.

Compounding the sadness of grief and loss for those mourning a loved one’s death during this time of the year is that there is a veneer of cheer and happiness all around. I’m not sure if this a cultural manifestation unique to American holidays seasons like this one, or something else. I’ll let you do the intellectual heft on that. All I know personally is that it’s sometimes too much. This Christmas is a bit better than last year, which was nearly unbearable. Friends and family have made overtures and we’ve been able to be part of this year’s holiday in a way that would have been impossible in 2017.

Back in the 1990s, when I was doing my radio shows on WBOR, 91.1 FM, Brunswick, Maine (a station ID, btw, for the FCC), I loved putting together playlists. Figuring out how to “stack” music and create a mood for three hours (or during those holiday break “marathons” that I’d sign-up for, sometimes lasting six hours or longer) was something I worked hard at. I also loved making mix tapes back then, also. It’s not that long ago, but to explain mix tapes and queuing records to youngsters fixated on the latest passive video game experience is an exercise in futility. I know, I’ve tried.

Fortunately for people like me, who still love radio where disc jockeys get to program their own music, there are still places to find throwbacks to an all-but-disappeared era of over-the-air music. I’ve been grooving on Christmas music that isn’t the usual over-played crap that all the commercial stations have been playing since Thanksgiving. My favorite stop for the past week has been a longtime favorite of mine, WFMU. Whether it’s been rocked-up versions of old holiday standards, or some really weird holiday-themed music (like Culturecide), or big band versions of all the old-time “hits” from the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s (think Spike Jones and the Maguire Sisters), good ‘ole ‘FMU has supplied variety and a diverse selection.

Parading santas to lighten the mood. (courtesy of Zzzzzzero Hour with Bill Mac on WFMU/Dec. 24, 2018)

Continue reading →

Going Back To the Classic Editor (in WordPress)

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In lieu of a Christmas blog post celebrating the “magic of the holidays,” I’m offering something practical for all you blogging types out there. I know our numbers continue to contract. I’ll be back after Christmas with fresh content.

Occasionally, WordPress requires that you download updates. Since 2012 when I launched this site, I’ve been faithfully executing these “upgrades.” I fear that one day, I’ll download one and the site will simply disappear. So far, so good, though.

The other day, however, when I updated to WordPress 5.01, I ended up with the WP Block Editor as my editing tool for posting. May I simply be blunt? It sucked!! If that’s happened, or if it happens at some point, I hope this video is as helpful to you as it was to me.

By following these simple instructions, I now have the WP Classic Editor set as my default. It’s what I’ve been using for the past six years and it’s way more functional than the latest editor, which again, sucks!

Merry blogging!

Birthday Blog-Mark 35

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December 19 will forever be Mark’s birthday for me (and his mom). It’s a day that will always be sad now that he’s gone. It once foreshadowed Christmas for his parents. He was the best Christmas gift two young parents could have received far from their families, in Indiana, during that bitterly cold month in 1983.

I posted last year on December 19 and thought I would again this year. This one from when Mark was 31 may be my favorite birthday post. I recall a saying that Mary’s late mom used to share: “Remember the happy times.” I’m holding on to those, today.

Mark was a vegan superhero. (protesting in front of Textron’s headquarters, Providence, RI, in 2016)

December and January have become bookends to a dark period for Mary and me. It’s that “season of anniversaries” that I mention to people I know and who knew Mark. That “sad season” actually commences just prior to Thanksgiving and then, it runs through the anniversary of his death on January 21. I’m not sure that February will ever be a joyous month, either. That is how passing through the landscape of grief, loss, and mourning goes.

Mary’s family has been great. Thanksgiving this year was okay. Spending time in Maine’s western mountains helped. Then, the first weekend in December, we returned to the place where we’ve spent a weekend in early December for years (we couldn’t do it, last year) taking part in the Tarazewich Christmas gathering. I believe this tradition dates back to 2007. Along a lake in tiny village named Woodstock is a “camp” filled with countless memories of Mark. That’s where we first met (and fell in love with) his girlfriend at the time, Gabi. That was the year she’d graduated from Wheaton (Mark was a 2006 graduate). We actually met her for the first time when she stepped out of the car in front of Mary’s sister and brother-in-law’s house. I’m sure it was a bit overwhelming, but she handled it with aplomb.

Memories of Mark are fraught with triggers. I never know what might unleash another torrent of sadness and grief raining down on my head and heart.

An Easter to remember. (Providence, RI, 2009)

We raised our son to be tough and independent in spirit and he cultivated a uniquely optimistic outlook about life and even adversity. I know he didn’t get that from me: probably from Mary.

He took childhood lessons to heart and revamped the curriculum with his own values, mixed with love and compassion, filtered through a poet’s sensibility, with the zaniness of a performance artist. I miss learning new things because of him. He taught me that you’re never too old of a dog to learn new tricks. With Mark, he was always learning. He loved sharing whatever was new with those circulating in his orbit, dispensed with his characteristic gentleness and yes, that wacky humor that at times would make his grumpy dad even grumpier. I’d gladly have him come up behind me and pat me on the head tomorrow, and I wouldn’t complain at all.

Mary and I launched the Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund to honor our wonderful son, the love of our lives. It’s now a 501(c)3 foundation that will live on to honor Mark, and help cultivate traits that were part of his philosophy of life—especially love, kindness, and taking a direct and personal responsibility in building a more gentle and humane world—one that honors and respects all people.

If you knew Mark and want to honor him on his birthday, then think about making a contribution to the Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund.

These are the things we’re about:

A mission-driven nonprofit.

I Did Not Know That

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Pride prompts us to think we know more than we do. Since there is no one who knows everything: most of us aren’t even close to being able to sort the important from the chaff in the world (and who could days, given the daily avalanche of information, the factual equivalent of white noise?).

Still, my thirst for knowledge and understanding continues. Occasionally, amazement and wonder accompany one of these runs down a rabbit hole. The end result is new information, and yet another reminder that I need to remain humble, because I know so little.

Thinking is hard work!!

With the change in another season comes colder days. I seem to have misplaced my zest for outdoor activities. The early fall bike rides I made along roads lined with brilliant foliage have been replaced. Now, you’re more likely to find me on the inside of the glass on those days that are even too cold for a brisk walk around the “loop.” That’s when I’m not standing in front of a classroom of young students, doing my best imitation of the JBE to keep them on-task. Thankfully, the Bath YMCA is close and I remain committed to my two-days-a-week in the pool.

Winter means I’m now spending time on my stationary bike again. The reward is that there is an uptick in podcast-listening. In addition to Rich Roll (someone I’ve mentioned before), I’ve added Chris Hayes and his excellent Why Is This Happening? Continue reading →

Emotional Music

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I can be going through my day, oblivious to this season’s constant reminders of the second anniversary signposts Mary and I’ll be moving past in December and January. Then, a song comes on the radio, or in the sequencing of CD/album, or a Spotify playlist, and I’ll be wrecked. What is it about certain songs that hit me with the emotional equivalent of a ton of bricks?

Not only does certain music and more specifically, songs, affect me, but hearing people talk about their own loss also triggers emotions. Like several nights last week, driving home from tutoring, and hearing Mark Curdo winding down another day of Markathon on WCYY.

Yo La Tengo plays some amplified Hanukkah tunes. (Brooklyn Vegan photo)

As he closed out each day of fundraising, the later hour meant that the busyness of responding to phone calls and other communication had lessened. The solitude of the hour allowed Curdo to open up and speak about his own experiences with grief, or share his heart about the center’s work and mission to help those moving through the grief journey. One night, it was Curdo talking about Brendon Whitney, the talented Portland rapper (who rapped as Alias) and producer who died unexpectedly last April. Curdo was forthcoming about how his close friend’s death devastated him. Another night and the tears were flowing as I headed south on Route 1, headed for home. Continue reading →

Women Won’t Save Us

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We are living through “the year of the woman.” Following the mid-term elections that delivered a female tsunami, naive believers have glommed onto the myth that depositing a wave of women on the steps of the capitol—simply assuming that swapping the gender of those who prop up our power structure will change everything. This is akin to believing in the magic of fairy dust.

Some of these “new” women actually believe that if they had been in power, bad things wouldn’t have happened. I say, “dream on.”

When I roll out of bed, I usually do my stretching in front of the television. I want my weather beamed from a 32-inch flat screen, not a phone sitting in my palm.

Before switching the channel to our local news affiliate, I caught the last five minutes of this morning’s MSNBC’s First Look. Their final segment had yet another variation of “the woman have arrived to save us” narrative that’s in vogue with lazy journalists.

Generally, I wouldn’t have paid much attention to the screenshot of a group of about a dozen women, but one name “jumped out” at me, identifying her photo. That would be Gina Raimondo, the new head of the Democratic Governors Association.

Yes, Raimondo is a woman. I’m also aware that men have done more than their fair share of damage to the planet. But she is not a woman I’m cheering for in her role leading an organization that’s “dedicated to electing Democratic governors and candidates.” Oh, glory!

Women in power suits, making plays for power.

Continue reading →