The Second Pademic

 

If you were wondering how the Second Pandemic (Stupidity) is doing, you need look no further than the Great State of Alabama.

How do I know this? I was driving to an appointment this morning, and was listening to NPR on the radio. The reporter was interviewing 3 Infection Control physicians who worked in hospitals in Alabama. While describing the overwhelming task of trying to cope with the influx huge of people who were sick and dying from COVID-19, it was mentioned that there were many of these sick and dying patients (and there families) who were insisting that COVID-19 did not exist. 

While there is a huge controversy in this country about getting vaccinated and wearing masks,  I am not seeing any reports in the news (interviews, people carrying signs, etc.) who are saying it is because COVID-19 does not exist; the main reason seems to revolve around  perceived freedom of choice.

In Alabama, though, people are laying in hospital beds dying from COVID-19, and many of them (and their family members) are insisting it is not from COVID. The fact that 600,000+ people in the US and well over a million people worldwide have died from this does nothing to sway them from their belief. It is a worldview that is, well, a bit out there.

If you remember a few years back, the Darwin Awards were quite popular. The award was "presented" to an individual who did something to remove himself from the gene pool in a spectacular way. Perhaps dying from a somewhat preventable disease because of denying it exists may not rise to the level of "spectacular" but, if we are a little less fussy about this, the Darwin Awards have the potential to make a comeback in Alabama. Sad, but it appears that there is no end in sight for this particular pandemic

My Mayflower Ancestor

My oldest daughter, Sarah, has been researching the genealogy of our family for years. During the course of this journey, she discovered that one of my paternal grandmother's ancestors came to America on the Mayflower in 1620.

His name was Edward Doty and he was, by all accounts, a  colorful character. He made the voyage as an indentured servant. After landing in Massachusetts (instead of the intended destination of Virginia), Doty and the other indentured servants argued that their contracts for indentured servitude were void since their contract was to serve in Virginia. As a compromise the Pilgrim leaders created a set of laws which became the Mayflower Compact. Doty was one of the signers.

Doty had a reputation for being argumentative and having a quick temper. As a result, he ended up appearing in Plymouth court numerous times over the years. Many of his business dealings were alleged to be fraudulent.

Doty was also one of the combatants in the first duel fought in New England on June 18, 1621 (fought with a sword and a dagger). The duel ended with both participants being wounded.

Records show Doty received one acre of land and was later granted twenty additional acres. There were additional land transactions over the years which apparently made him fairly prosperous.

As for his life of crime, court records exist from 1632 onward, and document 23 cases involving Doty between 1632 and 1651. There were suits and countersuits, accusations of fraud, slander, fighting, assault, debt, trespass, and theft. Amazingly, he was never jailed for anything, paying an occasional fine instead.

Among Doty's ancestors were at least one lawyer, a playwright, a territorial governor, a state legislator and an outlaw. There is also an Edward Doty society which his descendants can join (I have no plans to apply).

As far as I know, my daughter has not found any other ancestors as interesting as Doty, but the search is not over. How about your family?

 

 

Seaside Path in Acadia

 

My wife and I had made reservations to go on a 16-day bus trip in the summer of 2020. The trip included touring several national parks out west (Glacier, Yellowstone, Mount Rushmore, etc.) as well as local sites, such as museums and the Black Hills, and crossing into Canada for the Calgary Stampede and touring Banff National Park. 

The pandemic, combined with the closure of the Canadian border led to the cancellation of our trip. Travel restrictions imposed by the State of Vermont, which varied week to week in response to the pandemic in the moment, made planning any getaway challenging.

Generally, vacations with my wife have been to Maine; either to Acadia or Freeport, or sometimes both. We decided to try to plan a trip to Acadia, and hoped that Hancock County, where Acadia was located, would be green on the Travel Map that the State updated every week.

In addition to the Travel Map, the success of our trip relied upon careful planning. Having lived on Mount Desert Island as a child, and having returned there over thirty times in the last 50 years, I am very familiar with places to go, including places where there won't be crowds. We have been coming to MDI in October for the past 25+ years and, even though the number of tourists has increased over the years, it is still not as bad as in July or August. 

We also generally rent a house for a week, rather than staying in a hotel. For this trip, we found an Airbnb, which was a ranch house about 150 yards from my childhood home in Southwest Harbor. The advantage with this choice was, if the pandemic got worse, we could cancel and get a refund with 48 hours notice.

We also created a list of places we could see and hike which were unlikely to be overflowing with tourists. One of them was the Seaside Path.

If you look at tourist maps of hiking trails on Mount Desert Island, you will not find the Seaside Path. Much of it is on private property, but the owners give permission for hikers to cross their land. The path starts near Jordan Pond, passes through evergreen forest;

past a private stable;

beneath the Stanley Brook Bridge:

and eventually ends up on the beach at Seal Harbor for a picnic lunch.

Originally, the path connected the Seaside Inn in Seal Harbor with the Jordan Pond House. The Seaside Inn is long gone, the original Jordan Pond House burned down in 1979 (replaced by the current version). At one time, the path also served as a buckboard road. Today, the path is well-maintained, though little used (we saw one jogger on the trail during our walk to Seal Harbor and back).

My wife and I are trying to be optimistic, and have a reservation to rent a house on the shore in October, 2021. Hopefully between the vaccine, changes in Washington, and at least most of us behaving responsibly, the world will be a better place by then. One can only hope.

 

Christmas Adventures with Merlin

Merlin joined the family two years ago as a rescue. Along with his mother and siblings, he had been found and taken in by a shelter. Merlin ended up being the last to be adopted. No one wanted him because of his deformed tail. It is smaller than normal and shaped like a capital L. When he wags his tail, it is reminiscent of someone waving a signal flag. While others may find Merlin undesirable, we love him and believe we are lucky to have him.

One of Merlin's many pleasures is inspecting the contents of bags. When I come home from the grocery store, he hops up onto the counter, checks the contents of the bags and supervises unloading the groceries and putting them away. Actually, bags from any shopping we do are subject to being inspected by the little guy.

His curiosity, his love of bags and the availability of Christmas gift bags are what got him into trouble yesterday. My wife has a large blanket chest in our bedroom, and she had several gift bags on top of it awaiting delivery. Merlin jumped up onto the blanket chest to begin his inspections.

Unfortunately, with one of the gift bags, he stuck his head through the handle to look inside. Everything was fine until the inspection ended. When he tried to pull his head out of the bag, his head was stuck in the loop of the handle and things went downhill from there. Merlin panicked, jumped off the blanket chest and took off through the house, still attached to the gift bag. bumping into furniture and scattering Christmas gifts as he tore through the house. The bag was quickly destroyed, but the remnants were still attached because the loop of the handle was still around his neck.

Merlin ended up back in the bedroom under our bed. My wife tried to reach him to remove the bag, but he kept moving away. After several attempts, the bag was removed and he went downstairs to my daughter's bedroom to rest and recover from the trauma.

When he finally emerged a few hours later, he was crying and limping as he tried to climb the stairs. My wife and I were hoping his injury was just a sprain or strain, by his crying indicated he was in pain, and it was clear he needed to be checked by a vet. It was late afternoon on Christmas eve, and naturally our vets office was closed. This left us with having to go to BEVS (Burlington Emergency Veterinary Service). Our Christmas eve ended up being 4 hours there.

Because of the pandemic, we were not allowed to enter the building and had to wait in our car in the parking lot. Conversations were over the phone, and a vet tech came out to take Merlin and his pet carrier into the building. It turns out that Merlin has a fracture of the head of his femur (the "ball" of the "ball and socket" joint).

While he is scheduled for surgery on January 5th, our job in the meantime is to restrict his activity and to keep him from jumping and making things worse.

If you have ever owned a cat, you know from experience that telling the little guy to do something (or not to do something) is a colossal waste of time. If you mention the word "supper", he will come and await being fed. Otherwise, he does pretty much whatever he wants. Currently, he is residing in our guest room, with the mattress and box spring from the bed leaning up against the wall, leaving him with nothing in the room that he can jump up onto. He is well-medicated, and destined to spend the next several days eating and sleeping, with the only down side being restricted to the room/

After all this, you have to ask yourself: Will Merlin keep his nose out of bags in the future? Not likely.

 

Battery Park Protest Failure

 

On August 25th of this year, a group of protesters entered Battery Park in Burlington and set up a tent camp. They announced a set of demands, with the primary demand being the firing of three Burlington police officers who had been accused of having used excessive force during the performance of their duties. The group stated that they would continue to occupy the park until their demands were met.

On Wednesday, September 30th without fanfare, the protesters abandoned their camp, leaving over a dozen tents, dozens of homemade signs, and piles of trash. One of the three officers that they demanded be fired had accepted a buyout deal from the city of Burlington,  while the other two officers remained on duty. While I am sympathetic to at least some of the demands from the protesters, it would be hard to describe the protest, considering the original demands, to be a success.

While good intentions are commendable, one needs a lot more than that to be successful in an endeavor like this. Where did things go wrong?

Unrealistic Demands

You can't just fire a police officer. Having been in a leadership position in a union environment (the State of Vermont) I can tell you from experience that the employees have protections under the contract to protect them from arbitrary actions by management (which is a good thing). Due process and discipline are clearly defined and must be followed. The three police officers had gone through the due process defined by the contract, so the matter was closed. Interestingly, a member of the Police Commission resigned, reportedly because he advocated having the city fire the officers anyway, and deal with the consequences. The consequences, once arbitration concluded, would probably have included reinstatement to their jobs, back pay, and punitive damages. I am glad that the city officials did not take him seriously and that he has faded from the spotlight. I have forgotten his name already

The protesters, by making a demand (fire the officers) that the city was not going to accept, combined with a pledge to remain in the park until it happened, set the stage for failure.

A Short-Term Camp and a  Long-Term Commitment

In the beginning, the protesters enjoyed a lot of support. Food was donated, one of the owners of a nearby house allowed them to fill plastic jugs with water for drinking, and there was a lot of positive response with honking of horns when people drove by and saw protesters along the street with their signs.

Over time, though, the Law of Diminishing returns kicked in. People often lose interest in donating to something that does not appear to be reaching a successful conclusion. This protest did not appear to have substantial financial backing to permit ongoing purchase of needed supplies. Also, more protesters may join the camp, while others grow tired of the ongoing status quo and decide to leave. Toward the end, it looked like the exodus had begun well before the last day.

While food and shelter are important, hygiene and sanitation are also necessary for a living situation that needs to be able to continue for a prolonged period. Protesters who plan to live in a tent probably do not bring a large suitcase with a lot of clothing; they are more likely to be traveling light with a few outfits. While there is a laundromat a few blocks away on Pearl street, I am not sure how many protesters chose to utilize it.

For bathrooms, the protesters had Port-a-Potties. While these may be OK for one-time or occasional use, I can't say I would recommend them as the only option for weeks.

As for bathing, there are no facilities in Battery Park. If there was any provision for bathing, it wasn't evident, and the fact that they were filling plastic jugs with water from a  nearby home would indicate that there would have to be a lot of this happening to support regular bathing for dozens of people. How likely is that? 

No "Mission Accomplished"

The way this protest was going, there was a potential for it to look like a modern version of Washington's encampment at Valley Forge. I can totally understand people giving up, but why the messy exit? Why abandon perfectly good tents?

The answer, from my perspective, is that perhaps the tents were not "perfectly good". Picture yourself as a protester. You brought along a couple of changes of clothing. You have been there for over a month, living in close proximity to many others, wearing the same clothes repeatedly, not bathing very well (if at all), and the weather, which was pretty warm at the beginning, is starting to cool off. 

Because of the living conditions, did the protesters begin to experience some public health issues? Bedbugs? Scabies? Why else would you simply leave multiple tents in the park? I do not know for sure, but one certainly wonders.

Fortunately, this protest was non-violent and, with a few exceptions, civil. City officials chose wisely to not confront the protesters for camping illegally in the park and to wait them out. 

If nothing else, the protest serves as an example of good intentions without being well thought out. One of the adult learning principles is "How It's Not Done", and this definitely falls in that category.

And no, I do not want a used tent.

Free Trump Lie Detector

I think it is safe to say that, if lying were an Olympic event, Donald Trump would take the gold medal without much effort. Since taking office, members of the press have identified in excess of 13,000 lies, and the number, like the national deficit, grows daily.

There is a machine called a Lie Detector, but it is neither valid nor reliable. Fortunately, with Trump, you don't need it. All you need are his own words.

Over time, if you have not already noticed, there are certain words or phrases that, when he uses them, the next thing to come out of his mouth adds to the 13,000+ total of whoppers.

Examples include:

- "probably"

- "maybe"

- "I heard..."

- "people say..."

- "I believe" (or "I don't believe")

- "believe me"

Other less subtle examples include:

- "the Democrats..."

- "Obama..."

- "I didn't know him very well"

Unfortunately for him, this, along with being impeached, will most likely be his most memorable legacy as President. 

In the years to come, people may watch video of Trump at one of his rallies and ask themselves, "Is he lying?"

Probably.

Change My Mind. Really?

Being retired and having WAY too much time on my hands, I tend to spend a fair amount of time on the Internet. One of the things I have noticed is photos of individuals standing or sitting with a sign which makes a potentially controversial or inflammatory statement followed by "Change My Mind". While these people are apparently looking for an arguement, I am afraid they do not get the desired reaction from me. 

While I can be very opinionated and judgemental, I don't feel any obligation to inflect myself upon you to try to convince you that I am right and that you should hold the same opinion. If people want to agree with me, that's fine. If they don't, I am not going to be offended.

Because I don't feel like adding to all of the conflict that is already everywhere around me, I don't go bonkers when I see someone with their "Change My Mind" sign. My usual reaction (which I tend to keep to myself), is: "Who cares what you think?" 

The signs are intended to spark conflict and elicit a reaction. It's my belief that these individuals are deeply entrenched in their positions, and no one is going to convince them otherwise. If you happen to feel an obligation to engage these individuals to save them from themselves, feel free. As for me, I will most likely keep my inside thoughts inside.  

Donnie Douchebag

Sometimes, my mind wanders to strange subjects. Today, I was thinking of nicknames. Many people throughout history have had famous nicknames:
- Al "Scarface" Capone
- Richard the Lionhearted
- George "Babe" Ruth
- George "Blood and Guts" Patton
You can probably think of dozens more, belonging to famous people or friends and acquaintances of your. Nicknames are often given because of physical attributes (during WW II, author William Manchester was known as "Tripod" by his fellow Marines; you can probably guess why). Others may earn their nicknames because of their personalities.
Our current president is fond of giving unflattering nicknames to people who piss him off:
-Joe "Sleepy Joe" Biden
- Jeb "Low Energy" Bush
- Elizabeth "Pocahontas" Warren
- Ted "Lyin' Ted" Cruz
and the list goes on and on.
In my musings, I was wondering about a nickname for our President. This week, "Mr. Sharpie" would be fitting, but it would become obsolete as memories fade or move on to whatever stupid thing he says or does the next week.
If you wanted to give him a nickname related to his appearance, something about being orange would be fitting but, in my mind, not good enough.
This leaves his personality, which creates almost endless possibilities. I am somewhat at a loss to list his positive qualities, although I am sure many people can identify something about him that they view as positive. For those who can, you may be a better person than I am, and that's OK.
From my observations, this is what I see:
- lying is like breathing (12,000+ lies since taking office and counting)
- being ethical is a waste of time; it doesn't make money
- he is never wrong (according to him)
- cheating on your spouse (all of them) is normal behavior
- he thinks he is the best at everything (finance, trade, international relations, estimating crowd sizes,
 meteorology, etc.) (I would point out that being modest is not a strength of his.)
The President likes to brag that he has been on the cover of Time magazine more than anyone else. Even among Presidents, he's not even close. Here are some comparisons:
Nixon: 43
Reagan: 39
Clinton: 35
Obama: 23
Trump: 14 (this includes both before and during office)
I came across the above picture of a Time Magazine cover. I am sure it's a fake (Trump was famous for displaying  fakes of Time Magazine covers featuring him at his various properties). Even though I am sure the cover is satire, I think it provides the perfect nickname; one which will stand the test of time.
This week, he may be "Mr. Sharpie", but, to paraphrase Winston Churchill, if the United States would last for a thousand years, he will always be "Donnie Douchebag".

Lincoln for President in 2020?

Other than giving you Bernie Sanders running President, Vermont has not contributed much to politics lately. Much of the time, I have difficulty taking politics seriously, so I found it refreshing that the citizens of Fair Haven chose to elect a Nubian Goat named Lincoln to be their mayor (they have a Town Manager, so the mayor is a ceremonial position). 

Lincoln has great potential as a politician (maybe even President) more for what he doesn't do than what he does do. Unlike the current occupant of the White House, Lincoln is unlikely to bully or demean anyone, is unlikely to lie or to encourage others to be racist or otherwise intolerant. He also won't be considering or granting any pardons to undeserving evil-doers. His attitude toward women? No doubt respectful, especially if they feed him. Building walls? He'd rather not have any.

Would Lincoln be a great President? Perhaps not, but it's too early to tell. Let's see how he does as mayo firstr. If he does OK, he could move up to  maybe Senator (we are basically down to one Senator since Bernie is largely absent campaigning). Eventually, things could fall into place with a run for the White House. We've had two Presidents named Adams, and two named Bush. Why not two named Lincoln?

So far, Lincoln is off to a good start. His first official act after being sworn in as mayor? He pooped.

Giving money and power to govenment is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys

The title of this piece is a quote from political humorist PJ O'Rourke. It pretty much reflects my view toward the Federal government (see my earlier blog entry "Monkeys with Guns") and some State legislatures (like New York and Pennsylvania) who are known for significant levels of corruption.

While there are many smart, ethical, and reliable people who work in State and Federal government (I know many personally) there are others in positions we should be able to trust who can't be relied upon to act in the best interests of the taxpayers.

Examples from past and present administrations are legion: The Bay of Pigs, Watergate, the Iran/Contra Affair, Invasions of Panama, Grenada, Iraq, and Afghanistan, support of corrupt foreign governments (such as Marcos in the Philippines and the current Saudi regime) and many others you can probably name quite easily. 

On a national level, you can look in the news every day to find examples of things you find objectionable: police shooting unarmed people, inept disaster response (Hurricane Katrina and Puerto Rico stand out),  the Border Patrol stopping cars 100 miles from the border to challenge individuals' citizenship, and a plethora of other examples.

Congress serves as an outstanding example of waste and inefficiency. They "work" less than half the days in the year, and would be hard-pressed to identify many real accomplishments. They hold hearings and press conferences, but much of their time and energy is spent bashing members of the opposite political party. On top of that, they have granted themselves perks to create a separate class, such as free unlimited air travel (the bills go to the Department of the Treasury, who pays them without questions), they have a free platinum-level health plan, laws are passed that they are exempt from following (such as insider trading), and they have a pension that any other American citizen would love to have (and which will never be underfunded).

The current administration continues the trend of waste. "Drain the Swamp" has come to mean frequent golf trips, inept and unqualified political appointees, ignoring Federal regulations on such things as air travel and purchasing, telling our allies that they are a threat to our national security, complimenting (and envying) dictators, starting trade wars that are resulting in layoffs and business closing, and a host of other unflattering acts. While I respect the office of the President, I find it challenging to extend that respect to the current occupant, who seems incapable of telling the truth or accepting any responsibility for anything negative he or his minions have said or done.

I guess I can comfort myself in knowing that, based upon how little Congress is in session and that a term for President is only four years, things could be a lot worse. I guess the best we can hope for is to keep the whiskey and car keys are out of reach as much as we can.

Russian Spies in Acadia

The Schoodic Peninsula lies across Frenchman Bay from Mount Desert Island. Both contain parts of Acadia National Park. Up until 2002, the Schoodic Peninsula was also the location for the Schoodic Point Naval Base. Established in the 1920's as a radio station, the base evolved into a sophisticated communication facility that sent and received messages with submerged nuclear submarines. In its' final iteration, it was part of a network who used high frequency direction finding (HFDF) to target "enemy" ships for cruise missile attacks.
So what about Russian spies? During the mid 1990's, I managed an Adolescent Psychiatric Unit at Lehigh Valley Hospital in Allentown, Pennsylvania. Sharon was one of the nurses who worked with me, and her husband, Joe, was an FBI agent.
I met Joe at a party. When he found out that I had lived on Mount Desert Island, he told me of one of his experiences following Russian spies up there. The story starts in New York. Back then, Joe's job was to conduct surveillance on Russian intelligence agents who were part of the Russian diplomatic presence in New York. Joe and his partner were following two Russians, who headed north and ended up in Bar Harbor. It was pretty obvious they intended to gather whatever intelligence they could on the Schoodic Point Naval Base, and staying in Bar Harbor allowed them to blend in with the tourists and not attract a lot of attention.
The Russians checked into a hotel. Joe and his partner were nearby and deployed listening devices so they could eavesdrop on the Russians. The Russians only spoke English, even in private.
Joe described how they had the television on and were watching a Western. Spy #1 reportedly said, "That's John Wayne; I really like his movies." Spy#2 somewhat harshly corrected him, saying, "You asshole; that's not John Wayne, that's East Clintwood!" Joe and his partner were far enough away that their laughter did not give them away.
I doubt that anything amazing or surprising came of the trip to Maine, but it was a common practice for Russia and America to spy on each other and continues today. There's no way to know for sure, but who knows? Perhaps one of the Russian spies was a young Vladimir Putin.

Organic Firewood? Really?

I just returned from a week in Acadia. In my travels, I spotted many signs, including "Pete's Pretty Good Ice Cream", "The No Frills Oil Company" and "The Pickled Wrinkle" (a restaurant). The sign that stood out the most was for Organic Firewood.

Along with deluxe, premium, and gourmet, organic has become a word so overused as to become pretty meaningless. Supposedly, organic items are supposed to not have been sprayed with pesticides or other chemicals. Using the term "organic" in describing a product (or using one of the other terms) seems to be give permission to charge more for the product, even if it isn't any different from the same type of product that is not described as such.

I guess, if you think about it, almost all trees (except some fruit trees) could correctly be described as "organic". That being said, would you pay extra for a few pieces of oak because you "always buy organic"? 

While I can understand the term "organic" associated with a number of food products, applying it to things such as firewood begins a slippery slope which could make future product naming quite interesting. What's next? Organic Condoms? Organic Snow Tires? I guess it depends upon how daring an individual cares to be. 

As for me, regular firewood is good enough.

"Looking for someone incredibly competent"

The title of this piece is a direct quote from someone at the highest level of an organization in reference to someone I worked with after the decision was made to terminate him. The statement was describing what they wanted in a replacement.

While he did not say directly that the individual was incompetent, the implication was certainly there and was, from my perspective and that of many others, correct and well-deserved. It was a situation in which someone driven by ambition took on a job for which he was unprepared, not even remotely qualified, and who was unable or unwilling to develop the necessary skills to be successful. 

Although the decision to place this individual in a very responsible position was deeply flawed, it was compounded by allowing the person to remain in the position through three changes in organizational leadership, long after it was obvious he shouldn't be there. It is an unfortunate example of not making a difficult, but necessary decision in a timely manner, and many paid the price. While I would say "shame on you" to the individual who made the original decision to place this individual into the position, equal blame goes to the successors who decided to just hold their noses and to allow it to continue. Difficult choices sometimes need to be made, and they all failed.

While I am glad that this individual is elsewhere, and hopefully where he can do no harm, I think about how devastated I would feel if one of my superiors made a similar statement about my competence.  I have a reputation for being honest and competent at what I do. One of the keys to my success was that I was always careful not to take on jobs that were clearly beyond my skills and capabilities. While having ambition may be helpful to some, It was never something that drove me. I never had a desire to be vice president of anything, and I am OK with that.
Over the years, I have had the opportunity to work with many skilled and talented leaders. Unfortunately, this individual just wasn't one of them.

Indiana Jones in Acadia

In 1910, J. P. Morgan purchased bought Great Head and Sand Beach on Mount Desert Island as a gift for his daughter. His daughter had three bungalows, a barn, and a superintendent's house built above the beach. In 1915, she had a round stone tower tea house constructed. 

In 1947, a fire swept over much of the eastern side of Mount Desert Island. Many large summer homes, known locally as cottages, were destroyed. The tea house was damaged and the other buildings on Great Head were destroyed. 

Two years later, Great Head and Sand Beach were donated to Acadia National Park. The tea house was later torn down for safety reasons, leaving the foundation.

If you look at the photo above, Great Head has a few small trees, but is otherwise bare rock with some low vegetation. Today, the peninsula is heavily wooded with a few hiking trails.

Most people who hike Great Head are unaware of the history of the tea house or that the foundation is still there. One has to look for it, for it is not obvious to those passing nearby. 

Other remnants of the past can be found nearby. Near the elementary school in Bar Harbor is the remains of a stone wall from an estate. At Compass Harbor, south of the town, you will find a set of granite steps and the remains of a foundation from a waterfront home. 

For those who want a different experience in Acadia, delving into the past can offer a glimpse at an interesting time in recent history and the lives of Rockefellers, Fords, Morgans, Du Ponts, and many others.

Massholes, or What?

We are Vermonters. You also have New Yorkers, Pennsylvanians, Californians, Floridians, Georgians, Texans, Minnesotans, etc. For some states, though, I am not sure how the residents refer to themselves. Among these few is Massachusetts. 

Several years ago, I worked with someone who had moved to Vermont from Massachusetts. While there probably is a more polite and politically correct term for them, he proudly informed me, "We're Massholes". There have been occasions where I can totally understand the nickname. A few years back, on a trip to Acadia, I noticed a fair number of drivers who sped, drove erratically, parked illegally, and who were generally annoying in the display of their driving skills. Interestingly, every single one sported a Massachusetts license plate. The trip has been known ever since then as "Massholes in Maine".

While every state has their own share of people for whom a version of the term "Masshole" may be accurate, there are also many others for whom it isn't. I am pretty sure that the Commonwealth does not officially endorse the term; I am just not sure of the correct term.

I don't want to go through life referring to all Massachusetts residents as "Massholes" so, if you happen to know what the correct term is, can you let me know? As Oscar Wilde once said, "A true gentleman is never deliberately rude."

Asshole Rock

In my travels in Maine, I have found or heard about some places with pretty interesting names (see my earlier blog entries on Hot Ass Pond and Bunker's Whore). 

I recently came across another one, called Asshole Rock. Like Bunker's Whore, Asshole Rock is a marine ledge, and is located in the passage known as The Gut, which separates Great Cranberry from Little Cranberry Island off of Mount Desert Island.

Asshole Rock is described as porkchop-shaped with a large crack down the middle. One wonders if the crack contributed to how the feature got its name, but I was unable to find any information about this. Although there are stories about how some places, like Hot Ass Pond and Bunker's Whore got their names, the naming of Asshole Rock remains a mystery.

While lobstermen set some of their traps in the shallower water closer to shore, many set traps in the deeper, colder water further out. The Gut serves as a shortcut to get to the deeper water without having to take the longer way around either of the Cranberry Islands. Tides influence the depth of the water around the rock, so going safely through The Gut can happen only at certain times of day. Using GPS to navigate is not safe, because it is not accurate enough to guarantee you will not run aground.

One of my sources, a local named Bruce, described how to navigate safely through The Gut the old-fashioned way. According to Bruce, when you sight Asshole Rock, look for the crack on the ledge. If it is completely exposed at low tide, it is unsafe to proceed. If the bottom of the crack is still submerged, steer forward toward the boulders, but look backward at a church steeple three miles away which you align with a seaweed-covered stone a hundred yards off the boat's stern. Looking forward, when the ledge lines up with the tree line on an island two miles to the east, turn the boat forty degrees to port.

During Prohibition, small ships loaded with cases of whiskey came down from Canada and stopped outside the three-mile limit in international waters. Locals came out in small boats to unload cases of whiskey and attempted to elude federal agents in fast boats to run the cargo ashore where it could be distributed to buyers. The locals risked arrest and seizure of their boats but, if they were skilled and lucky, this did not happen often and there was money to be made during hard times.

Reportedly, if locals were being chased by federal agents, going through The Gut offered an opportunity to escape. Many chases ended because the pursuers did not want to risk running aground.

Today, Asshole Rock serves as a reminder that, although radar, GPS, and other modern devices are helpful, sometimes you just need to rely upon skills learned from the old salts.

Meeting Martha Stewart

Uncle Buzzy

When I was a child, I lived in Southwest Harbor, Maine, on Mount Desert Island. Our neighbors were the Beals, who owned Beal's Lobster Pier in SWH. Always known as Uncle Buzzy and Aunt Prue, they were married for 70 years until Uncle Buzzy passed away in 2010 at age 89.

Uncle Buzzy's father had established Beal's Lobster Pier in the 1930's, and Buzzy retired from lobstering in 1967 to take over operating the business when his father died. The main function of the business was to buy lobsters from the lobstermen and resell them to restaurants and private individuals in the area (they would also ship live lobsters on ice anywhere in the country). In the late 1990's, Buzzy retired and turned over operation of the business to one of his four children, Sam. Even though Buzzy was "retired" he was still frequently at the pier, sorting lobsters and making deliveries of cases of lobsters to various locations on the island in his pickup truck.

I have returned to Mount Desert Island many times since I moved away, and always made a point of getting together with Uncle Buzzy and Aunt Prue to visit and enjoy a dinner together. It was at one of these occasions that he related to me his experience of meeting Martha Stewart.

Martha Stewart had purchased, in 1997, a 60+ acre estate in Seal Harbor called Skylands. Originally, the estate had been owned by Edsel Ford. It is shielded by trees from view from the street. If you are on a scenic cruise out of Bar Harbor, all you can see of the estate is part of the roof and a chimney.

Martha Stewart at Skylands

From the start, Martha did not endear herself to the locals. A story that made it's way into the Bar Harbor Times told of a young couple who decided to drive up to Seal Harbor to look at Martha's estate. Reportedly, when they drove into the driveway, she did not take it gracefully. She reportedly put the chain across the driveway entrance to prevent them from leaving and called the police. When the police arrived, she told them that she wanted the couple charged with trespassing. When the police pointed out that they would also have to charge her with kidnapping and illegal restraint, the matter quietly resolved.

Uncle Buzzy's introduction to Martha Stewart occurred in the early 2000's. She called Beals's Lobster Pier to order a case of live lobsters and wanted them delivered to Skylands. Buzzy was making deliveries to the local restaurants that day, so he headed to Seal Harbor in his pickup truck. Entering the estate, he drove up the driveway to the front door and rang the doorbell. Martha Stewart answered the door and started loudly berating Uncle Buzzy (he was pretty deaf, so it was not as effective as she might have wanted) and demanded that he go around to the "servant's entrance". The delivery was made and Buzzy continued his rounds.

This was not the end of bad behavior by Martha Stewart toward the Beals. Buzzy's oldest son, Elmer, and his wife own a small seasonal restaurant named the Burning Tree, which is in Otter Creek, a small village near Seal Harbor.

The Burning Tree is a place that serves outstanding food (Elmer's wife is the chef), but it has limited seating and is hard to get a reservation unless you plan days ahead. I have had dinner there with Aunt Prue and Uncle Buzzy a couple of times. I guess being related to the owner can be helpful in getting a table.

According to Aunt Prue, one night the phone rang; it was Martha Stewart wanting a table for dinner in two hours. Elmer, who was manning the phone, told her that the reservations were full for the evening, but that she was welcome to come another time. Her response reportedly was, "Do you know who I am?". Elmer's response was that he did, but that the reservations for the evening were full and offering a table on another night. She hung up without saying anything more.

Martha Stewart has multiple personas, ranging from being charming and very business-savvy to being an entitled ass. I don't know if she had ever called Beal's Lobster Pier again to order a case of lobsters, but it's a safe bet that, if she did, Uncle Buzzy declined to handle the delivery.

  

Venerable Bede

On this Memorial Day, I am thinking about all who have served in our military in times of both peace and war. One of them was my paternal grandfather, Wilfred Bede Mitchell. In his personal and professional life, he went by his middle name as W. Bede Mitchell. I always had thought that Bede was an unusual name. Doing a little research, I found that the name came from Venerable Bede, a 9th century English monk (perhaps influenced by some of our ancestors being members of the clergy near the city of York).
Bede served in the Army in both World War I and World War II. In World War I, he was a medic and, as far as I know, did not leave the country during the war.
Between the wars, Bede attended medical school, became a physician, got married, and had four sons. He worked as a obstetrician and lived with his family in Detroit. Before the United States entered the war, the military started to expand, and Bede helped the Selective Service by conducting physical exams for draftees.
After the war started, Bede went back into the Army and served in the Army Medical Corps as a captain. I remember my father telling me that the family moved from Detroit to Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas. While the family remained in El Paso, Bede shipped out to the Pacific theater. I do not know all of his travels, but I know that part of his time was spent in the New Hebrides. At the time he was there, it was a quiet place. Bede was an amateur artist, and spent some time of his doing charcoal sketches, some of which I have. He also carved some letter openers, two of which I have. The letter openers are not especially useful in this digital age, but they and the sketches are treasured nevertheless.
After the peace and quiet of the New Hebrides, Bede was in the invasion of the Philippines. The most exciting moment in his service occurred here. He was working in an Aid Station that was attacked by the Japanese, and he was fortunate to be one of the survivors.
When the war ended, Bede was in the occupation of Japan, and was there for awhile before returning stateside and returning to Detroit with his family.
After returning home, Bede developed a brain tumor. He underwent surgery to treat it, which was initially successful, although my father told me that he was no longer able to perform surgery, and limited his medical practice to consultation. Unfortunately, sometime later, the brain tumor returned and led to his death. He was cremated, and his sons buried the ashes at the base of a tree on the family property where a vacation cabin was located in northern Michigan.
Unfortunately, all of this took place before I was born, so I never got to meet him. Based on photographs, his art work, and what my father had told me about him before he too passed away, Bede was a pretty interesting guy and I would have liked very much to have met him and to get to know him.
Over the centuries our country has existed, we have been lucky to have Bede and millions of others step up when the country was in a time of need to offer their service. Thank you to all who served yesterday, serve today, and will serve tomorrow.

I did not attend his funeral, but I wrote a letter to say I approved it

The title of this piece is a quote from Mark Twain. Having worked in healthcare since the early 70's, I have met a great number of people whom I liked and respected, many that I knew superficially and didn't have strong feelings one way or another, and a select few for whom I had a fairly intense dislike. This last group could be described by a variety of terms: psychopath, butt head, vice president, etc. 

I am sure all of us have come across people like this that we either know personally or know about from others. Dealing with such individuals can be painful, frustrating, and sometimes life-changing, not in a good way. While it would be tempting to inflict harm upon the members of this small group, the fact that it would be a felony is enough to discourage me and many others from such action. Besides, most of these individuals in the long run ended up self-destructing; getting fired or demoted.

Sometimes it is better to frame your dislike in terms of thought, rather then action. That's why I like Twain's perspective. So, the next time you run across someone who really passed you off and who tempts you to commit a felony, rather than acting on these thoughts, just do what I do and say to yourself: "Yes, I'd write a letter for that one,"

This Mural is Racist?

In a small alley off of the Church Street Marketplace in Burlington, Vermont, you will find a mural painted on a wall entitled "Everyone Loves a Parade." The mural depicts several actual people in the group, and has been there for a number of years.

Recently, a local individual complained that the mural was "racist" because it did not depict any "people of color". While that individual is entitled to an opinion, it's not one I support. To me, the mural would be racist if it included a person or people of color and depicted them in a negative or demeaning way. To me, people who take direct action, such as uttering racial slurs, distribute flyers demeaning or insulting people of color, deny service to these people, or other similar actions, are racist. 

Is this artist, who is expressing his vision, and not doing anything one way or another related to people of color, being racist? By the same extension of this logic, Da Vinci's painting of The Last Supper is racist. So is Michelangelo's painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Paintings of groups of people by Rembrandt and Renoir would also be racist. All of Norman Rockwell's paintings (except one: The Porter from 1947) would be racist. Even Disney's Seven Dwarves would be racist because neither Grumpy nor  any of the other dwarves is a person of color. The fact that an artist does not include a person or people of color in his or her work does not, in my mind, make it racist.

Does the fact that I happen to like the mural make me a racist? While I can, at times, be very opinionated and judgmental, I prefer to judge people by their character and by their behavior, rather than by the color of their skin and to view art by what it contains, rather then by what it does not. 

For those out there who, because of my views, would believe me to be racist, my response is to quote His Dudeness: