Last night, I had a drink with someone with a lot of tweets. He has lots of tweets he told me because he’s been tweeting for a long time and he got in while the tweeting was good. I got in after he did and I don’t have as many tweets, or people who follow my tweets. Continue reading
Tag Archives: Mark Baumer
Don’t Let the Posers Win
I believe that honesty, hard work, and being genuine will ultimately win out in just about everything we do that has any lasting value. That said, there will be times when no matter how hard you try, and regardless of the efficacy of your cause, someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart will string you along and then, squash you like a bug. What’s worse, these people have managed to dupe their little band of followers and sycophants that aren’t aware of their disingenuous qualities, or maybe they are, but for whatever reason, they continue telling the emperor that their clothes look great. Continue reading
Making granola
My journey of reinvention is firmly rooted in DIY sensibilities. My thinking, my approach to challenges, and things that hold significant value for me–like my publishing–all emanate from an ethos that says, “I can do this.”
Perhaps the seed for that was planted back in Crown Point, Indiana. I was 21, with a pregnant wife, no job, and I was 1,500 miles from home and extended family support. Unemployment was over 14 percent and I didn’t have much in the way of life or employment skills. Continue reading
Another year older (almost)
The Baumer family meets up in Providence, RI
One year ago, I was in New York City celebrating my 50th birthday, a surprise getaway weekend arranged by Mary. This year it was less about Broadway and Times Square, and more about local foods, farmers’ markets, books (of course) and time spent hanging out with our son. We were headed south to another urban environment, but this time the destination was Providence, Rhode Island.
Parenting might be one of life’s hardest tasks. We step into the role with little to prepare for it other than our own parents’ example. We usually vow to be better, and most of us are determined to put our own stamp on the process. Somehow we manage to get our kids to adulthood, or maybe they get there despite our efforts. Continue reading
When kids grow up
One day, you’re driving your pregnant wife to the hospital to give birth. The next thing you know, your adult son is 29-years-old. It’s natural to wonder where the hell the intervening years disappeared to.
To know Mark is to love him, or if you aren’t his parents or his girlfriend, at least to like him. Continue reading
The streak continues: Boston Book Fest 2012
The BBF 2012 info station.
Living in Maine, even near one of the great “small” cities in the United States, Portland, makes a trip to Boston special. I say special because for me, cities have always signified wonder. I marvel at the activity—the hustle and the bustle—not to mention the energy, sights, sounds, and the smells that are remarkably different than rural places.
Attending the Boston Book Festival (BBF) has become a tradition for me. There is a protocol that’s developed. I’ll detail some of it below. BBF has become something that my son and I take in together. We have done so since the inaugural event in 2009. Continue reading
Focus on what you can control
If you didn’t stay up ‘til just before midnight last night watching the Boston Celtics’ heartbreaking loss (heartbreaking, at least, if a fan of the green team), then this post might not interest you, or so you think. Stick with it a few more sentences however, so you’ll see where I’m going.
Basically, an aging team, beaten up, besieged by injuries and a steep underdog, rode their future superstar, Rajon Rondo, to the brink of pulling a huge upset. Instead, a few missed calls and officiating that seemed to be set upon protecting the NBA’s two certified superstars, Dwyane Wade and LeBron James, and marginalizing Rondo and Boston’s star Paul Pierce (who fouled out), prevailed; or so one kind of narrative goes. I haven’t listened to WEEI today, so I’m only guessing. Continue reading