Category Archives: Festivals/Major events

The Art of Songwriting: Tom Brady (GOAT)

Posted on by

I’m someone with considerable experience listening to sports talk radio over the course of the past 35 years. The week leading up to the Super Bowl has always been something I’ve kept on my personal radar. This year, the strangest year ever, things about sports (even the Super Bowl) seem to have been pushed to the fringes, shoved there by all-things-COVID.

Perhaps it has something to do with not really running with a tribe anymore. Or, not working in a physical space with other humans. Every workplace I’ve ever been part of would have had someone running a Super Bowl pool, soliciting predictions with a pot of cash going to the winner. Maybe New Englanders were depressed because their favorite son had found success somewhere else, out from the constraints of the Krafts and the Hoodie Man.

But this year, nothing: nada! Working from home, the daily Skype was filled with the usual inane banter about dogs and things people didn’t know about how to do their jobs. Nothing about Tom Brady, or thoughts about how New England’s favorite son might fare in the land of the sun. No openings to insert, “I just wrote a song about Tom Brady–check it out.” Actually, no one at work gives two shits about anything related to my life–I learned that all-too-well the week of the fourth anniversary of Mark’s death. Not one note or inquiry like, “how are you doing” from a team leader or manager. Oh well. Continue reading →

Complicated, but Simple

Posted on by

Mark was killed two days prior to the day that serves as my birth day. In 2017, feeling celebratory 48 hours after receiving the gut punch of knowing your only son was gone was impossible.

The following year, I realized I didn’t give two shits about anyone knowing it was my birthday. My better half talked about celebrating halfway through the year. Being born in January means that the day signified with cake and ice cream (or your own special guilty pleasure) is usually cold and foreboding. But any day with cake can become a great day.

I haven’t had much cake over the last three years. The summer party never appeared—the idea was a good one, it just lacked a trigger for execution—namely me giving it the green light. Again, losing Mark made celebrating another year of life seem like an exercise in futility and the kind of self-indulgence that grief and loss robs you of.

Mark loved bell hooks’ writing. I was also a fan. Shortly after Mark’s death, I bought her book All About Love: New Visions, at Gulf of Maine Books in Brunswick. Continue reading →

Days of Death

Posted on by

I’m taking an anthropology course at USM over Winter Session. These are “compressed” between semester course options. Basically, 15 weeks of work gets forced into an intense four-week offering. Lots of reading, writing, and reflection tacked onto an already busier stretch than I’ve had in probably three years. For a part-time student like me, it’s a way to make progress. “It’s all good,” as they say.

One of our assignments required watching an excellent documentary produced by the BBC on the Mexican Day of the Dead. In a nutshell, this is a day that combines indigenous Aztec traditions about death with the Catholic Holy Day, All Saints Day. Because Americans are rarely curious about anybody else but their own dysfunctional culture, most know little or nothing about this Mexican tradition that actually honors the dead in a way that Americans fall far short in their avoidance of the topic, or their superficial “thoughts and prayers” Facebook contributions.

Once a week since Christmas, I’ve had to respond to one of three assigned student questions we’ve all had to generate from our reading for the class. This week, I tackled this question because death and how we as Americans process it is something I’ve been living for the past three years. Continue reading →

The Holidays are Here

Posted on by

I’m no longer sure who visits this space. Since almost everyone uses social media for communication and I’d prefer not to, it’s been months since all but a tiny contingent of people have remained connected.

It’s December. For some of us, it’s not a time of holiday cheer, or happy memories from Christmases past. For families who’ve lost a child, or currently going through their first holiday season without a loved one, it’s a painful time, one infused with memories that more often than not elicit sadness.

For Mary and me, this is the first year we’ve decorated a tree since Mark was killed. He was a Christmas baby, born on December 19. This will be the third birthday of his we have to endure without our son.

Christmas in the saloon.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be filled with joy and happiness (I probably never have been), but at least this year, the dial on the sadness meter has dropped a few notches: still sad, just not “wrecked with grief.” I guess that’s an improvement when you’ve set the bar very low.

Today, I concluded a difficult class at USM. This was the first one of my history classes I’ve taken that I didn’t enjoy. In fact, I really didn’t care for the professor or anything about the class. First, it was an online class. Being that in 2019, universities are moving away from bricks and mortar and face-to-face meetings, I guess I need to adjust. Continue reading →

Another Late Start

Posted on by

Back before Al Gore (or whoever) invented the interwebs, retailers like Sears and Montgomery Ward produced thick, colorful catalogs laden with merchandise. The introduction of the latest catalog into a household was a big deal. Sometimes siblings might even fight over who got the first pass at such a rich treasure trove of goodies.

Sears was the shizzle when Amazon was only associated with rain forests and tribes of warrior women. Their catalog, dubbed by some as the “wish book,” was for all intents and purposes an encyclopedia of the American dream.

The traditional department stores (Marshall Field’s, Wanamaker’s) sold higher-end fashion, but Sears had made its reputation selling less expensive but necessary items: socks, underwear, towels and bedding, which helped keep sales going even during the Depression. Sears also sold house kits. Yes, you could actually buy a house from the catalog and from 1908 to 1940, Sears sold between 70,000 to 75,000 homes.

In 1968, the Sears & Robuck catalog boasted 225 pages of toys and 380 pages of gifts for adults, for a grand total of 605 pages. Included in those 600+ pages were musical instruments: specifically, guitars and drum sets. Continue reading →

Moon Shots

Posted on by

Tomorrow is the 50th anniversary of the moon landing. Being old enough, I can actually say I was alive when it happened. I don’t remember much about it, though.

I imagine it was a topic of conversation in the house where I grew up. Did my parents watch it on their black and white television console? I don’t know.

This summer, I’m more apt to learn about current events from music, or related to the music I am listening to. I think it beat my former method of news consumption, relying on cable’s 24/7 cycles and never-ending Trump coverage.

Most Fridays (at least for a few more weeks), I’m usually at home, streaming Jon Bernhardt’s “Breakfast of Champions” slot on WMBR. I don’t know Jon, but by the kind of music he programs, I’m guessing we both have an affinity for mid-90s indie and that our interests in current bands/artists is informed by that period of time. I could be wrong.

Bernhardt featured a compilation called, The Moon and Back: One Small Step for Global Pop, along with a host of other songs related to the moon shot. Like most of his shows revolving around a theme, it was pretty cool, coming from a former DJ who took pride in putting together a radio show back in the day. A few songs into the show’s setlist, I figured out that there must be an anniversary related to the first landing on the moon.

The compilation tracks I’ve heard thus far are really good. I especially like The Nameless Book’s “AS-506” (track #13).

Along with the music, I found this article that I thought was well-written. It delves into why we fixate on things from the past and get all “geeked out” about anniversaries like these. The past does actually matter. Who knew?

I’m a bit like Larry Norman when it comes to celebrating the moon landing and nostalgia about it. Back in 1969, Norman was non-plussed about it and wrote “The Great American Novel” that touched on the waste or resources that the moon launch represented. Norman’s song creates a snapshot of that time that in my opinion is as powerful as anything Dylan wrote about the late 1960s. Unless you ran in Xian rock circles like I did for a time, you probably don’t know his music. Norman launches it with this line:

I was born and raised an orphan in a land that once was free
In a land that poured its love out on the moon

He goes on from there to offer a critique of a country that still gets its priorities upside-down, or worse.

Racing in the Streets

Posted on by

A rainy spring it’s been. Everyone knows the adage that “April showers bring May flowers.” But weeks of rain and little or no sun drags down one’s spirit, no matter how hopeful your view of the future remains.

Early last week, Mary and I began counting down the days. We were anticipating yet another trip south related to our son’s death. We watched local weather and even Boston-area weather (via NECN) to determine—would it rain on Sunday?

It rained and the day was cold and raw. Nearly 50 people—all members of Team Every Mile Yeah—turned out for the Providence Rhode Races. They ran and some walked. Our group was arrayed in green t-shirts that Mary arranged to have produced for the event.

Mary and cape prior to the start of the Providence Rhode Race 5K.

Green shirt drying out from the rain

Family drove down from Maine. Friends from the earliest days of Mary’s life rode buses and trains to Providence. Ironmen from Minnesota who had let Mark into their world of localized competition came from Boston, New York City, Washington, DC, and San Antonio to run in Mark’s memory and support our efforts to hold an event that also connected with the foundation we began: The Mark Baumer Sustainability Fund.

As I was walking a sort of rear guard action during the 5K walk that our small family contingent made together, I was flooded with memories of Mark and me in the place he’d adopted as his home. Not only did he find his niche in the city, Providence welcomed him and adopted him, too. One thing the two of us never got to do was walk down the middle of Memorial Boulevard, sans traffic.

These streets were made for walking.

Mary and I spent Saturday with a special group of people who joined us first at Mark’s garden in front of the John D. Rockefeller Jr. Library at Brown. That’s where the Eastern Redbud was planted in Mark’s memory during the fall of 2017. There’s also a plaque commemorating his life. The group then walked, drove, or Ubered to Federal Hill and dinner at Trattoria Zooma. Somehow, they managed to accommodate our crowd just like they told Mary that they would.

Most of Team Every Mile Yeah (Mark’s Garden-Brown University)

Marching for Mark (heading to Trattoria Zooma)

Continue reading →

The Last Day of the Year

Posted on by

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 →

Going Back To the Classic Editor (in WordPress)

Posted on by

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!

Writing Newsletters

Posted on by

Thanksgiving’s gift of an extended respite was a welcome one. No tutoring, insurance, and only one chance to sub at a nearby high school.

I read, tag-teamed in the kitchen with my better half on some amazing plant-based meals rooted in simplicity: I had my evenings free, which has been rare since September. Thursday, we drove into Maine’s snowy western mountain region for time with Mary’s family.

Western Mountain splendor.

Grief is “a process.” The idea of grief proceeding neatly through “five stages” has been imposed upon those grieving, thanks to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Fifty years ago, she described a progression of emotional states experienced by terminally ill patients after receiving their diagnosis. Because of her “theory,” those who mourn are often inflicted by well-meaning people with the belief that we should be “getting over” our sadness and loss. If it were only as simplistic as passing through five stages.

I’m not going to debate the veracity of Kubler-Ross’s framework. Others have already done that. But Mary and I know better than most that grief doesn’t proceed in an orderly fashion, even if some wish it would. Grieving people will always mourn the loss of someone special and loved, like we loved Mark. Continue reading →