Shopping Season

Thanksgiving week is an odd one. A national holiday tacked onto the tail-end of a work week makes for a disjointed flow at best, when breaking rocks for Whitey.

For those of us punching in on Friday, it’s essential to keep in mind that the day has been hijacked by commerce and consumption. Any business transacted will likely take place between Black Friday bargain hunting.

If you are one of the people cursed to be a retail worker, it’s the start of a month’s worth of madness leading up to the high holiday of shopping and crass commercialism, Christmas. I’m glad that my part-time merry-go-round this year doesn’t include a seasonal stint for a well-known online retailer headquartered in Freeport. I’m not feeling overly-Christmas-y this year, with all its uniquely American decorative flourishes. I’ll be keeping it as simple as can be.

Indeed, I’m opting for as much normalcy as I can latch onto here at the close of 2016. So, I won’t be shopping on Black Friday, and it’s highly unlikely that you’ll find me out at the mall or Big Box any other day in December, either.

Bargain-hunting on Black Friday

Bargain-hunting on Black Friday

Elections and Alienation

With the 2016 election clanking to its completion, like a car with a malfunctioning transmission, I’ve taken a different tack the last few weeks—disengagement—imbibing next to nothing from the mainstream. My inner environment has been almost tranquil. Rather than alienation and discouragement, removing myself from the ongoing dysfunctional din of reality has been a positive and necessary corrective.

Just because someone demands that you see the world one, or two ways, doesn’t mean that you have to. Binary thinking leaves you dead-ended, painted into a corner.

If voting mattered...

If voting mattered…

Over the weekend, I picked up several books that seemed to be waiting for me on my local library shelves. These books provided historical context, as well as reminding me of perspectives I hadn’t considered in quite some time.

What I found fascinating in reading about America’s history of radical politics, was the role of European immigrants in bringing socialist, Marxist, and anarchist perspectives to these shores. What I’ve also been ruminating about is why the town where I grew up—with many immigrants from Europe—was and continues to be a place where conservative values reign supreme. This is a topic that I’m likely to come back to at some point. Continue reading

The 5th Always Follows the 4th

While the candidates for president were out and about on the 4th of July, lying to American voters, I spent the long weekend uncharacteristically relaxing, even attending a wonderful family gathering and cookout hosted by “the hostess with the mostest,” Aunt Tomato.

Alas, another work week’s begun. There are still a few jobs to be done in what remains of the Republic.

In this age of truncation and Twitter, I thought something I read in Jay Parini’s biography of Gore Vidal was fitting and Twitter-ific. It was also noteworthy enough to break my silence on politics here at the JBE.

Vidal (just prior to the nation’s Bicentennial year, working on his new book at the time, 1876) was being interviewed by Mike Wallace on 60 Minutes, and he gave an answer to Wallace about the reporter’s claim that Vidal was being overly cynical about the nation’s fate at the time, 40 years before we’d suffer from an election choice of Clinton vs. Trump.

Vidal explained that “cheap labor and cheap energy” were gone, and the results would be dire. He continued, “We’re never going to have that again. We’re going to have to have less gross national product, not more.” Prescient, I’d say.

Promising things they can't deliver.

Promising things they can’t deliver.

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From the Bike Seat

On Sunday, I was out biking around Massachusetts, and even up into New Hampshire, part of the Bicycles Battling Cancer (BBC) ride, which was staged from Hillside School, in Marlborough, Massachusetts. A fun time was had by all, or most of the riders, save for some Monday aches and soreness from riding anywhere from 30 to 100 miles.

Mary and I opted for the 70-mile leg, which today feels just about right. I’m sore, and a bit tired, but am grateful that I was able to help in some small way the battle against the scourge of cancer. I’m also appreciative of those who helped me double my fundraising total of $300. Stay tuned, as I want to give a public shout out to all of you later in this post.

Marlborough is like many places I’ve dropped in on in Massachusetts, always passing through. If all you ever do is drive to Boston, or blow through the state via the many interstates criss-crossing The Commonwealth, then you’d think the state is nothing but one big strip of convenience stores, strip malls, and business parks—and much of Massachusetts consists of these things.

The best part of BBC, save for the underlying purpose, was getting out on my bike and seeing things that you’d never experience from interstates like I-495, or I-290. Even better, biking slows travel down to where you actually notice things on the side of the road and can begin to assemble a different narrative, recognizing that Massachusetts is more than simply Boston, or Worcester, or even Cape Cod. Continue reading

Battling Bicycles

Bicycling is one of the three elements comprising a triathlon. Usually, the bike event follows the swim, and precedes the run.

Travel by bike seems just about the right speed. You can get from A to B in a reasonable amount of time, compared to walking or running. Pedal power only seems subpar because of our addiction to high-powered gasoline engines that allow us to hurry about going nowhere. When you bike somewhere, you actually notice things on the side of the road. Plus, it’s great exercise.

This spring, I’m not doing a triathlon. It’s the first time in three years that I’m not training for a June tri. I’ve decided to ride 70 miles on June 12 instead, taking part in Bicycles Battling Cancer, in Marlborough, Massachusetts. My fundraising goal is $300, with donations supporting the American Cancer Society. I’ve reached the goal and am hoping to push it to $600, which would be double my requirement. Here is my donor page if you’d like to donate.

Spring has been packed with baseball games, and other assorted duties related to “making a living,” whatever the hell that means. I haven’t been able to bike as much as usual and certainly not as much as I like to.

Slowly, but surely, my mileage has been increasing. I rode 30 miles in the rain this morning following an early morning swim. I thought the showers would hold off and to be honest, had hoped to hit the 40-mile mark on my training ride. If you’ve ever been drenched, you know that it’s no fun. I plan to get out this weekend for a couple more rides. Once I’m at 40, I feel confident that 70 won’t be a big deal.

Bicycles love smooth, new blacktop.

Bicycles love smooth, new blacktop.

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April Baseball

Like most members of Red Sox Nation, I was disappointed that Monday’s season opener in Cleveland was postponed due to cold weather. Baseball and 30 degree weather don’t make for optimum conditions. Having grown up playing baseball in the cold and pitching in some brutal weather in Aprils past during high school and college, I concur with the decision, and hopefully, the boys can get at it this afternoon, in Cleveland.

Listening to afternoon sports talk, on-air personalities on WEEI, yesterday. Dale Arnold, Michael Holley, and Jerry Thornton, questioned the postponement of the game, indicating that Tuesday’s weather won’t be much better. Having Cleveland host a home opener in April is always fraught with cold weather possibilities, but their fans are entitled to see their baseball team host an occasional home opener. The Tuesday forecast at Progressive Field is calling for sun and 34 degree temperatures, sans yesterday’s wind along with rain and snow showers.

I don’t envy Cleveland’s hitters getting jammed by a David Price fastball. The Sox batters are also facing a tough pitcher in former AL Cy Young winner (in 2014), Corey Kluber. On paper, it appears that it might be a low-scoring affair. Hopefully the Sox packed their thermal undergarments and balaclavas.

Wearing the mask. (Getty images)

Wearing the mask. (Getty images)

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Becoming Extraordinary

We are officially into 2016. It’s also that six-week block on the calendar when resolutions are both foremost and in danger of extinction.

How would you like to be extraordinary this year? Let’s start by looking at some definitions of the word.

Extraordinary (adjective):

  1. beyond what is usual, ordinary, regular, or established: extraordinary costs.
  2. exceptional in character, amount, extent, degree, etc.; noteworthy; remarkable:

Last Friday—officially, “New Year’s Day,” Mary and I participated in our first Lobster Dip. Basically, it was a dash across a portion of beach, running into the surf and then, plunging into ice-cold ocean water guaranteed to numb you from head-to-toe. It was also friggin’ exhilarating!

Miss Mary; keeping warm pre-dip.

Life is short. Why spend so much of it muddling along with the mundane?

My wife is exceptional (and extraordinary). It’s only taken me about 35 years to truly understand her qualities (I’m a slow-learner). Continue reading

End-of-year Blog Settings

Re-calibrating my blog settings.

Re-calibrating my blog settings.

After publishing like clockwork for 50+ weeks since last year at this time (I think I’ve varied twice), the week following Christmas finds my blog schedule set on “random.”

How was everyone’s holiday? Despite my downer post, pre-Christmas, I actually rallied Christmas Eve and managed to keep the cheer rolling through Christmas Day. Perhaps it was my sister’s Baumer Bingo and assorted prizes (although, I came up empty). It might have been my ability to “screw up” whatever emotion is called for, whether I’m “feeling it,” or not. It might have simply been the magic of Cointreau and some holiday cocktails I tossed together over the two days of our holiday celebration.

Spending December 25th at the beach was a new experience. Miss Mary and I drove to Popham Beach State Park, along with what seemed to be everyone else in Southern Maine, as 60 degree December weather doesn’t happen every year on Christmas. Cars were lining the road as we approached the park gate (locked, as all park personnel had the day off). Many others decided to take their afternoon celebrations to the seashore. Continue reading

The Meaning of Christmas

In A Charlie Brown Christmas, poor Charlie Brown just can’t get into the spirit of the season. The opening dialogue reveals much about the next 30 minutes, as Charlie tells Linus that he thinks “there must be something wrong with me,” because he can’t get with the program of Christmas.

He then articulates all the things that aren’t right with him and the season.

  • Feelings
  • Lacks understanding about the season
  • Always ends up feeling depressed

Linus embodies friendship, while also demonstrating some tough love. He chides his buddy, “Chuck,” for being “flawed” because of his inability to get into Christmas, and taking a “perfectly wonderful season like Christmas, and turn(ing) it into a problem.” Most people are like Linus—at least those that love the holiday—in that they don’t get those of us that are more like Charlie Brown than Linus and the other Peanuts characters. Continue reading

Fall is for Fairs

Maine has a rich history of fairs and festivals celebrating agriculture. The state’s fair season kicks off in July, and wraps up in October. The grand finale of yearly agricultural fairs happens to be the Fryeburg Fair—fitting, since it’s the state’s largest, and the one many consider to be the showcase Ag fair—it runs the first full week in October.

I know that for many, their fair experience favors the heat of mid-summer. For me, I’ve always liked the crispness associated with fall’s arrival. As a result, my fair-going is oriented towards the latter end of the fair calendar. On Saturday, Mary and I were off to the fair.

Now in its 39th year, the three-day Common Ground Country Fair in Unity is considered the state’s pre-eminent fair celebrating organic farming, and a self-reliant rural lifestyle. In many ways, the fair, and the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association (MOFGA)—the fair’s sponsoring organization—were seeded by back-to-landers who descended on the state in the early-1970s.

The Common Ground Fair began with the intent of bringing back the old-time country fair. That means no midway for rides that you’ll find at many other Maine fairs. Also, there’s no horseracing, alcohol sales, and a dearth of booths selling mass-produced trinkets.

Founders began the fair at the Litchfield Fairgrounds with a goal of drawing 10,000 people and finishing with a net of $10,000. They accomplished both goals that first year, back in 1977. Much of that original vision continues, nearly four decades later.

Of course, times change and nothing stays the same. There are those who grouse about the fair having “sold out.” Now, upwards of 60,000 people descend on tiny Unity, Maine over three days. While rural life and local agriculture are still celebrated, the fair is now more of an “event” than ever before. The “hippy,” or counter-cultural flavor, while still present, isn’t as prevalent.

The "official" MOFGA vehicle (note the WERU bumper sticker).

The “official” MOFGA vehicle (note the WERU bumper sticker).

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