Peeking at Rooftops From Your Desktop

I sat outside on the deck tonight, it was humid and it really felt like summer. Sad to think that tomorrow is August and then...well, it'll all be gone sooner than we think.

I read the WSJ and a story popped out that compelled me to read further. It was about how many businesses are using Google Earth and other satellite photography websites to scope out prospects and even measure roofs.

The Saber Roofing Co., in California, used to drive out, climb a ladder, and measure the prospective roofing jobs with tape measures. But today, they just call up Google Earth and a photo of the roof shows up, along with the tools they need to measure and even judge its condition. It's a clever way to avoid long drives and climbing, and it's been accurate up to within 50 feet of scale...enough to deliver an accurate estimate.

Other people are checking out neighborhoods with the biggest lawns, and looking for pools and other investments that might be in need of their services. Landscape designers can make quick plot plans and check out the rest of the neighborhood using sites like Zillow.com and Microsoft's Live Search.

In the story, one roofing customer was stunned to hear a first-hand report on the condition of her roof while she was still on the phone with the roofer. When he said it was too steep and turned down the job, she said it felt like Big Brother was watching.

Time to Ham It Up on Brad Shepard's Show

Brad Shepard and I were joshin' on the email last week and sounding like corny cowboys, setting up my visit tomorrow on the Morning Show with Bo and Brad, on WHYN-AM. I have been an AM guy for many years now, if you ask me the best radio comes from that side of the dial. I mean, how can you resist morning personalities like these blokes and afternoons with Howie Carr?

I have tried listening to the FM rock stations, but grow quickly bored. I need some food for my head and it comes from the know-it-alls of talk radio. Tomorrow I'll be on with the WHYN gang at 8:35 am talking about my experience last week riding the range and the mountains of Montana. Give a listen!

What's For Dinner? Cats Dig Raw Rabbit

Today when I checked the mail after a week away, my mailbox was stuffed with WSJ's. In today's paper I found out that cats really like raw rabbit more than any other food...and once you give them this, they'll never eat Friskys again.

According the a profile of a Springboro PA woman who sells raw rabbits in tubes, whole and in sticks of jerky, business has never been better. And the recent outbreak of Chinese disease inside tinned cat food has more and more cat lovers switching to a raw diet.
But it sounds like it' not for the squeamish. How about sticking a frozen rabbit head into a blender for kitty, perhaps with some raw egg and vitamins. Yum!

The cat food business disagrees with the findings of many scientists and researchers like Anne Jablonski, who said these creatures are built for raw meat, and the excess carbs just makes them fat. Many outlets are offering raw rabbit and business has never been better. And they are most likely guaranteed customers for life, because once cats eat this hand prepared dish, they reject all other foods. You know, finicky, like Morris.

Viewing the Animals on a Montana Evening

While I was visiting the ranches in Montana, I learned that many people in these United States still use dial up to reach the internet and get email. This was difficult for me to fathom and I hardly barely was able to blog, let alone open email attachments. Here are some of the photos from my wildlife watching on the bluff at SK Ranch.

Here is an elk we saw with his buddy behind them. And below is the beaver. In all of my years of seeing beaver dams I've never seen one in the wild until then, and there were two swimming swiftly across the water to their lodge.

The Grizzly was right here, in the water, standing up looking at us. I missed that shot, was too surprised!

Were Those Camels We Just Passed?

As Donnie and I drove south from the ranch, we passed a curious site on the side of the road in Fairfield, Montana. A series of pens held a gaggle of double-humped camels. A second pen held elk, and in the far corner, a solitary and huge bull camel. We saw a man cutting grass and we stopped to talk.

"I got my start when Dennis Weaver bought 44 llamas from me, in 1988," said Al Deutsch, the owner of Al's Bactrian Camels. "Come on around,


and I'll show you some more pictures." We entered his compound and said hello to the friendly herd of about 26 large and small white and brown camels. They had huge double humps, this is the species called Bactrians. Dromedaries have one hump but these guys, who approached us very easily, had lush coats and giant heads. His home was spacious and filled with photos of movie posters with his posed camels.

"I rent these out for movies and sell them to zoos all over the country," said Al, who had a habit of dropping names of famous camel collectors that we had never heard of. "I breed these guys and I sell the little ones for $30,000 each. This is Big Time!"

I asked Al if his kids were interested in continuing his camel raising tradition, and if such good profits interested them. "Oh, no, no, they work in the oil fields, heck, one of my sons makes oh, $18,000 a month on an oil platform. Another is involved with a real estate website in British Columbia. Beautiful up there, just gorgeous."

Al is a man of in his late 60s, and his luxurious house, spacious grounds and vehicles indicated that this is a very good business indeed. He explained some of the difficulties of breeding these beasts: The camel penis, for example, faces backwards, so it is very hard to successfully mate.

"Dennis Weaver, he was a heck of a guy, a real pal," he said. "We raised llamas and were in business together at his ranch in Colorado." His voice trailed off and his ebulliance switched to sadness. "I have a hole in my heart. This whole place, this business, this is what I've worked so hard to build up, and none of my sons want anything to do with it. They used to get up with me and work when they were young, but heck, now they are all moved away and just don't care about this."

He has a young camel breeding scion in New Zealand, he said. We hope that he finds someone to carry on his tradition, because it appears that the world needs Al's Bactrian Camels.

A Grizzly Bear Stares Us Down as Elk Munch Leaves

After a dinner of fine grass-fed steaks cooked on the grill, (about as good as steak can get, and I've had Kobe as well as Smith and Wolensky beef), we ventured out for a wildlife watch. These of course can be disappointing, but as we drove over the dirt road toward a vantage point, I had a good feeling.

We set ourselves up with binoculars and cameras on the top of a bluff overlooking a grove of diamond willow, aspen and choke cherry trees. Nobody spoke above a whisper, and the only sound was the buzzing insects and an occasional bird. A wide stream meandered through this lush green grove, surrounded in the distance by the dry yellow fields dotted with large rolled up haybales. We had a perfect vantage point and began scanning the wide view for animal life. "Look carefully into the green," Steve advised, "look for differences in the green, that's where you'll see the animals."

After a few minutes of careful scanning, I spotted two elk in a grove, eating leaves from trees. The male had a large rack of furry antlers and he was joined by a female, also dining on leaves. They were far away but with my binoculars and a good camera, I was able to snap their photo. But the best was to come.

We watched the elk until they wandered out of view, and then suddenly we heard Steve whisper loudly--"Bear!" A grizzly bear popped out of the woods into the water. He stood up, a face framed in silver, and looked right up at us from about 75 yards. It was an incredible moment, as we all watched this ferocious animal staring right at us, and then he ambled through the water and crawled into the brush. We trained our binocs on the surrounding bushes and heard some crashing in the woods, but we didn't see him again.

Then we allowed ourselves to be silent again. Sitting with four others overlooking this vast panorama of nature,not making a sound, it was like a scene in an African oasis. We let the quiet envelope us and we scanned the streamside and the distant meadows for more signs of life.

Then a pair of beavers swam across the wider part of the stream, swimming strong and leaving a wake heading for their lodge at the water's edge. Far off in the distance, we saw whitetail deer grazing on grass, and more elk running away toward a distant grove.

A big bull elk crashed through the woods and emerged into a clearing, and we watched it make its way and then disappear in the green. We thought he might have been running from the bear so we moved a little further to the left, to a higher bluff.

The quiet and the richness of this wildlife and this special place would be with us for a long time. And Donnie decided she'd rather spend the night at Steve and Alison's place than alone in a distant cabin right near where we saw that grizzly.

Cantering on Toughie Was The Day's Highlight

Today was a day of exploring and of course, riding, at the SK Ranch in Montana. We headed out over the soft hills on our steeds to round up some cattle that needed a drink. "Cattle are too lazy to walk to the water, they would rather stand in a corner and wish there was water than move," explained Steve. So we hustled the Angus over to a far corner where a cool drink awaited. I bounded up a hill on Toughie, and broke into a trot, then a full on canter, loping along and loving the excitement. I wasn't sure if Toughie knew that I had never gone this fast but boy it was fun!

After our ride we took a long drive to see the Teton River and the majestic peaks in the Lewis and Clark National Forest. The fires are still on everyone's minds and the policy of not putting the blazes out irritated some of the locals. "They've got spotters who can detect a tiny puff of smoke, so why didn't they do anything about it back in early July when it was small?" asked one man I met. Outside a faint rain fell, weak droplets, and for a moment we felt some relief, but it was gone soon after.

Tensions are a little high here as the blazes are reaching residential areas and the draught is now about to qualify this county as a disaster area. It's been a fifteen-year draught cycle, said Steve. "My kids have never known a time when we were not in a draught," he said, "nor have we ever been able to have a bumper crop...that gets tough after a while."

We met a mentor of Steve's who owns the Deep Creek Ranch lodge, where we got a tour and watched hummingbirds battling it out on the feeders beside the windows. A cold beer made us feel right at home as the owners showed us around their rustic and comfy lodge. Tomorrow we take a very long ride...it'll be sad to say goodbye to Montana.

Tiny Specks on the Rock Face--God,That's Tall!

We took a long and rough ride over stony roads to make it all the way to SK Ranch in Bynum Montana, arriving about suppertime. We reached the crest at the top of a bluff and looked down on the ranch, about 100 yards away, in front of a great mass of openness. Steve Skelton is a big friendly and intelligent man who calls himself an amateur geneticist since he breeds Angus cattle. His line is famous for the tenderness gene, which with their grass diet makes for great steaks.

We loaded up in Steve's big F350 pick-up and drove to where we could see the remnants of the Old North Trail, an old Indian trail and a place where pioneers once rolled their wagons. The limber pines here were stunted, just four or five feet tall, and some were 500 years old. Amidst the bone dry yellow dying grasses was a area with taller trees and green vegetation on the ground, evidence of the water meandering through. Grizzly bears love to come to this water and eat choke cherries, Steve said he seems them pretty regularly but hasn't seen any yet this year.

We drove on a rutted road to a spectacular sheer cliff called Blackleaf Canyon. It was immense--about 2000 feet up. The size of the walls became clear when Steve took out his binoculars and pointed out microscopic shapes--climbers who were scaling the walls, just little dots of blue and red next to the massive rock face. It was 8:45 pm and one guy was about 200 feet up, barely even connected to a rope.

We hiked up beside a stream with two other ranch guests. They were an 81 and a 75 year olds from Missouri, who had been riding all week. The older woman Edie told us she used to pilot a plane but was too old for that now. So she rides horses and hikes and is a delight!

Learning About Scary Things at JD's Wildlife Sanctuary

I met Dave Trexler today, and he told me some scary stories and showed me some dinosaur bones, just lying there out in the chaparral of Montana. We were in a bar called JD's Wildlife Sanctuary, a classic biker joint with dollar bills plastered up all over the low ceiling, in a windblown one horse town called Bynum. Dave is a paleontologist, and he runs the Two Medicine Dinosaur Center. The scary bit came up when I asked him his opinion of global warming.

That was when I learned about methane clathrate. If you wanna learn about a threat that makes even Al Gore's global warming scenarios seem tame, just google this stuff. It's a gas that forms in ice way down in the ocean. If the temps stay below 59 degrees, well, that's ok. But if this stuff bubbles up to the surface, it expands by 160 times, so a little bubble of this the ultimate greenhouse gas, becomes a huge mass. And Dave thinks this is what happened to the ships that mysteriously disappear in the Bermuda triangle--they were swallowed up by a hole.

After the burgers at JD's we drove through the wide open land to the dinosaur dig. We drove up an unmarked hill and Dave reached down and picked up what looked like a 6" rock. "Here is part of a dinosaur leg," he said. Then he pointed out three, four and then another fragment about two inches long. "See the difference between these and the rocks?" I did notice that the dino pieces had different lines and what appeared to be a porous center, compared to the flat rocks. Dave led us up to a four foot section encased in plaster. It was a duckbill species and this was a femur. A giant femur!

It was sad because Dave is doing this excavating on a shoestring. He doesn't get any grants and he has a young paleontologist who eagerly takes volunteers on these digs. But after he goes to grad school, he wants badly to come back to a job with Dave. So far it hasn't panned out, since land grant money goes to institutions that can point to a 100-year plan. It's just Dave for now and his organization doesn't have more than his vast knowledge and volunteers.

Inside the Triple J Ranch Lodge

Inside the cozy lodge at the Triple J Ranch. I am sad to say that today I am leaving but have fond memories to bring with me and a sore butt.

Riding Down a Mountain, Leaning Back, and Hoping for the Best

I sat in the lodge with Chris, a lovely woman who cooks on the packhorse trips and lives as a gypsy in the back of her pick-up truck camper, in an RV in Arizona, and in her former home in nearby Eureka. She said she loved the way people here in the West were so nonchalant about danger.

I agree. One of the nicest things we don't get thrown in our face here at the Triple J is liability for the inherent danger of riding horses. No helmets. No waivers. No instilling fear, just a reminder to not come up from behind and to listen to the wranglers while out on the trail. It's refreshing and makes this whole experience a lot more fun.

Today I pushed my limits on Sampson and my knees and butt are sore. We took a nearly day-long trail ride, starting in a narrow trail through the Aspen trees, and then starting to climb up. The strength of the horses is amazing, I kept feeling bad for Sampson and the other beasts who were carrying my 210 lbs up these steep mountain trails. He takes his time but then powers up and sometimes shoots off in a trot, just following the lead of the horse in front. I can tell it's coming, and I'm advised to rein him in, but it's also fun to let him zoom like that and just hang on.

We climbed up and up, taking a break for lunch in a grove of aspens, and made it all the way to a vista. It would have been the perfect setting for a Lexus commercial, way up there with one hundred miles looking down toward the Gibson reservoir, still covered over by forest fire smoke. We set a spell and told stories while the horses rested.

The way down was a test of my strength, as even while we were making wide zees, it was damn steep. I had my feet hard in the stirrups and was leaning back, and at one point tried to shoot photos. Bad idea. I stuffed my camera back in the saddle bag and then we hit a patch of dirt. The rider behind me said Sampson was almost dragging in the back, sort of slip sliding down. But we emerged, unscathed, and finally on the final trail back to the barn.

"Don't let 'em get barn soured," said Lauretta, advising us to rein them in tight as the horses tried to speed up their homeward pace.

At the barn I got a chance to chat with Max Barker, the wizzened founder of the ranch. He told me with a glint in his eye how he gets husbands to go along and enjoy the ride. "The horse is an extension of your legs," he tells them. "We can go way, way up there, if you just use the horse." He gives them tips like keeping your heels down so they don't get shown up by their horse-loving wives.

A Summer Camp for Horse Lovers in Augusta, Montana

Sampson and I joined the riders today starting down by the Gibson reservoir. It was sad to see that the water level in this huge water source was about fifty yards lower than usual. We walked our horses over rocks and on a trail that next to a rushing stream. Way down below I saw a few people navigating the rapids in a yellow raft. Then the canyon opened up to steep cliffs on either side, and down below a dark azure deep and fast moving flow of river water in a shute.

We rode for about 45 minutes and then dismounted and let the horses have a drink. I cupped a few sips of the clear water and it felt cool and tasted wonderful. Paul, a mason who works on high temperature glass-making ovens, rode with a harmonica and played some tunes from the saddle. It was a nice accompaniment to the gorgeous vistas, that for once were not marred by the smoke from the forest fires in "The Bob" as the 1.5 million-acre Bob Marshall Wilderness is known.

Loretta, a diminutive wrangler who rode ahead of us, told a story about how she had come across a bear the other day on this trail. The bear was a small one, and it appeared all of a sudden as she rounded a curve. She didn't panic, so her horse remained calm, and he scampered off into the brush. At first she feared it was a cub and looked around for Mama bear, but she didn't appear.

This dude ranch is a little like summer camp. All guests arrive on the same day, Sunday, and we take every meal and do many of the activities together. It feels like a way to form strong bonds, since we have a chance to discuss our rides, our steeds and our lives in the real world over the home cooked suppers served at the Triple J.

The owners Ernie and Kim Barker, are real horse people, and as gentle and as attentive to their guests as any hotelier I've ever met. Because they live here with their two daughters we get a chance to live in their world. They hire wranglers who go to Montana State and other local schools and one young woman I talked to said this was a dream job: "I get to ride all day, I take care of kids, and I get to do it in the beautiful mountains here. Plus the other kids are great!"

Morning In the Montana Mountains

This morning we got out on our horses and rode for about two hours into the Mortimer Gulch. My horse is named Sampson, and a fine steed is he, knows the way and has lost what I heard was an annoying habit of suddenly trotting when the rider didn't expect it. No that didn't happen, just as easy ride/walk among the startling scenery of the rocky mountains.

The only bad thing was the smoke from the 7,000 acre forest fire that has clouded up the valley and cast a huge haze over the distance. I heard some people saw burning pine needles falling from the sky.

One of the riders is a woman in her early 60s named Wanda. She is a regular rider and has her own stable of horses in Indiana. She spends a lot of time traveling abroad. She works as a lead volunteer for Habitat for Humanity, helping poor people build houses. She was just in Tajikistan, spent many many weeks in Uganda, Senegal, Kenya and other countries and will be going back to the 'stans in a few months for more work. "I just love it," she said, "it makes you feel so great to be able to help people out."

It was inspiring to hear her tell her stories about a pickpocket in Senegal who reached into the pocket of her khaki pants only to come up with a kleenex -- and Wanda's strong grip on his wrist. He spit on her shoulder, they glared at each other, then he ran away.

"The street kids in Uganda are doozies," she said, when asked about which country has the most tenacious beggars. "I think Kenya is the worst, they just never let go."

We're all assembled for our lunch of burritos,then a short rest, and I'll be back out on Sampson again. This country brings out an appreciation from both visitors and locals... they just can't get enough of the ridgelines and the mountain peaks and meadows.

People here seem to be in a great mood most of the time. In a small and lovely little shop in Augusta called Latigo and Lace, the owner told me a saying that sums this place up. "Montana is like a small town with very long streets."

A Clear Saturday at the Cafe

It's a brisk and cool morning at the cafe. I am trying not to spend too much time here instead, I am going to the dump for the first time in my new dumpmobile, or truck, filled to the edges. I never imagined that so much of the work I have to do at the cafe involves recycling plastic and metal.
Piles and piles of recyclable stuff ends up in bags outside the cafe, and of course, it falls to me to remove them. ugh! But at least I have a truck to use instead of the back of my large luxury automobile.

The other day we got a fax at the cafe from a regular customer. She explained that the staff was courteous, and the sandwich delicious, but that they had forgotten to put the mozzarella and red peppers into her sandwich. All she wanted was another $1.00 off coupon. I wish she had just brought the defective sandwich back and we could have heaped it full of the missing items. Oh well.

Today Cindy and I are going shopping to find a rain slicker and a few other items one needs if one is going to be riding horses for a week. I am just now beginning to think of what it will be like out there. And I can't wait til I get back and get back on Tucker...I might really be able to gallup after my ranch time!

"Ride to Your Heart's Content" at Triple J Ranch

Last night my cell phone rang its groovy new ringtone at 9:30 pm. It was Ernie Barker from Triple J Wilderness Ranch in Augusta Montana. He was calling to advise me about boots. "Don't wear boots with those lug soles," he said. "They get caught in the stirrups." He told me my Merrill walking shoes would be fine, and said that there was a lot of smoke from forest fires burning about 12 miles away from the ranch. "You can see the smoke, even from that far, it might be a little smokey here over next week."

I am flying on Sunday morning. Should get to Great Falls about 1 pm. Then we'll drive up to the ranch. Here's what they say about what to do when you get there, from their website.

Ride to your heart's content. Scramble up Mortimer Peak. Grab your fishing gear and hit the Sun River. How about an old fashioned game of horseshoes? Jump in the ponds for a refreshing dip or soak those sore spots in the hot tub. Explore the scenery with a long hike. Challenge others in volleyball or kick back with a good book in a lounge chair on the deck. Whatever you choose, you'll enjoy each day at the JJJ.

You'll be the little guy on my shoulder as I visit the ranch and go riding with the cowboys next week.

Tucker Back from Another Ride

Here is Tucker, my steed, with whom I've been learning to ride up in Bernardston. Today's ride was the best yet...at one point we had to turn around, and as we turned onto Shedd Road, Tucker decided to make a break for it.

He jumped into a canter, and I hung on, but quickly raised the reins to slow the beast down. It was an andrenalin rush and made me feel good when I stopped this lurching Ferrari as he tried to speed off.

Then I went down to Stop and Shop and as I put my groceries in the back of the truck, a woman approached me. "Excuse me. Sir?" She explained that she had no gas and had just spent the balance of her money on a prescription at CVS. She was with another younger woman. She looked tired and hot. She explained they had been sitting there for more than an hour.

I approached her and gave her three bucks. Then they drove into a nearby gas station and I pulled away. Then I stopped and got out. I went over to the pump and put $15 in her tank. She said thanks. They would have not made it to Holyoke with the $2.00 of gas they put in.

With 16 Acres in the Center, What Do We Do Now?

I joined a group of about 30 citizens to talk about a big issue in Deerfield tonight. On November 16, the town will own a 16-acre piece of land in the center that was once a pickle factory. Now they want to form a steering committee to find out what to do with it. The meeting was lead by planner John Mullen, who has done this many times before: gathered a diverse group of citizens, looked at all of the possibilities, and helped a committee put forth a well-considered roadmap on what to do next.

One person whose name came up more than once was local developer Steve Upton. He is clearly one person in town with a lot of development experience--and one finance committee member said that was needed for a group like this. Upton stopped speculation dead in its tracks when he announced that he wasn't going to try develop the land himself. So I guess that means he might want to be on the steering committee.

At the end Mullen went around to everyone at the meeting and asked them what they got out of the 90 minute session. People offered up some of their own highlights: "transparency." "think outside the box." "UMass is a great resource." "Work slowly, No rush."

My own personal favorite point was made early by Mullen. It was a thought he had as he sat waiting to begin speaking, and he just threw it out but I loved it. He suggested that the town could give a developer a 100-year lease and not have to sell the property at all. After I said that this was the idea I liked best, Finance Committee heavyweight Gordon Oakes echoed my sentiment. And then a third man agreed. The idea: Creative ways the project can unfold.

So Deerfield now has to decide what the mission should be, and then they will begin the process of forming a powerful steering committee to start the considering their many options.

Shooters Seeing Red Over NFL's Vest Rule

Sports photogs are a famously independent bunch. They do what they do and they don't wanna be hassled. Now the NFL is driving their association crazy with a new scheme: Starting this fall, every shooter on the sidelines of NFL games must wear a red vest with a Canon and a Reebok logo on it.

The National Press Photographers Association is not happy and they're fighting back. "I think it's extremely unfortunate that the NFL, after limiting the number of local video photojournalists on the sidelines (last season), is now attempting to turn them into roving billboards," attorney and former photojournalist Mickey H. Osterreicher said today in Buffalo, NY, where for many years he covered the NFL's Buffalo Bills before becoming a lawyer who specializes in First Amendment and press freedom issues.

"I would strongly suggest that any news organization whose photographers are required to wear such vests protest the requirement in the strongest of terms."

The shooters say that by making them don these stupid vests, they'll be breaking their own rules, that prohibit accepting gifts, favors or compensation from those who are trying to influence coverage.

Larry Roberts of hte Pittsburgh Post Gazette blasted back: I am fully against my staffers being used as billboards for companies which we may or may not support. The Post-Gazette, as a paper, uses Nikon equipment. I am sure Canon will love seeing their name behind a Nikon. ... Or, will we now be prohibited from covering NFL events if we do not use Canon cameras? And by the way, I am sure that the photographs will be so much better with flashes of red drawing a reader's eyes away from the action."

Learning to Ride Up in Sheddville

Tucker and I are getting to know each other quite well. The big horse is docile and knows the way. Yesterday I got a chance to go through the woods with him for a few hours. We even sped up to a quick canter for a few strides in an open field, though his trot was so bumpy I almost fell off.

I've been taking riding lessons in Sheddville--a cluster of five houses on their own street in Bernardston all occupied by various members of the Shedd family. I am getting in touch with what it feels like to be on a horse, in preparation for next week's big adventure.

On Sunday I fly to Big Sky, Montana, and I will spend next week on an 18,000 acre ranch riding, roping and learning the ways of the cowboys. These trail rides are my prep so that when I get there I won't be too sore from all of the riding. I've gotten to know a little about the Shedds and about how to keep a horse under control.

Yesterday we rode through the woods. Tucker crashed his way past trees, we ducked to try and avoid branches, and the horse was surprisingly nimble picking his way over large logs and through muddy patches. The power he shows when he climbs up a steep hill is impressive. It's like being on a big four x four except he's breathing and he knows the way better than I do.

Sweet New Ride--No More 'Borrowing a Truck'

Here is my new truck. Not really new but in great shape, taken care of by two women who live next door. I told them they can still borrow it when they need a truck.

Sami Takes Over In the Towne's New Market

I walked over and said hello again to the proprietors of the new market in town. It's called the Garden City Market, and Sami is one of the owners. I told her that she could pick up our WiFi signal at her store and that we are all grateful that her and her brother have opened up the market that's been closed for more than a year. Finally a place to shop for food in the village!

Last night I joined hundreds of others to pay homage and support Lou and Leslie Ekus, who recently lost their wonderful restaurant Holy Smokes in Hatfield to a fire. Bub's BBQ dished out some chow and many people came to support Lou and Leslie. I chatted with my friend Jay Smith who runs a company called Sports Travel and Tours. They take people to the games they've always wanted to see, and are now plugged into Baseball and Football's Halls of Fame.

Sprint Puts Their Logo on Pirated Songs

In an ingenious nod to the forces of capitalism, Sprint will soon embed its logo onto a song so that illegal downloaders will see its logo when the song plays. It's an ingenious way to beat filesharing--the music industry's bugaboo.

The NY Post reported today that on Atlantic Records tracks, Sprint will buy an ad on 16 million song files by the artist Plies, so on the desktop or ipod the listener will see the Sprint logo.

Despite all of the warnings and the rise of iTunes, illegal downloads are still the source of most music for the under 35 set. And by signing up to place their ads Sprint is leveraging itself as an innovator, and it also helps promote their new service Pandora.com, an online radio station.

It is always interesting to see the actions of the bold that sometimes start sea changes. By spending six figures on this ad deal, Sprint may just be opening up a whole new way of looking at downloads.

A Poignant Tale of a Man and a Boy

Last night we enjoyed a particularly poignant NetFlick. It was called Kolja, and it told the story of a Czech bass player who married a Russian woman for money and ended up without her but with her 5-year-old boy.

The languages, of course, were obtuse, a combination of Czech and Russian, and the story was set during the occupation of the country by the Russians in the '80s. You get a glimpse of what was to come with a few references to Gorbachev and one recurring scene hammers home the point that they are under occupation...the constant passing of army trucks.

The little boy has no where else to go as his mother abandons him to an aunt who dies in the hospital. The 50-something bassist must make his bachelor pad kid friendly, and his Russian is weak. We see the evolution that moves slowly from distrust to love...symbolized by the boy's reaching for the man's hand as they cross the street together.

At one point the youngster greets Russian soldiers and chats them up...he is so happy to be able to speak Russian with somebody. Later he is read a story in Russian by the man's friend, much to his delight. You realize how lonely it must be to not have anyone to speak to, only strange sounds coming at you from everyone.

Watching how the little guy grows on the older man is heart wrenching...as is the end where the lad reunites with his mother in Germany. But we are left with the knowledge that this old man has learned how to be a father and his pregnant girlfriend portends a happier day soon to come.

Tall Meets Short in China

It had to happen some day. The tallest and the shortest man in the world met face to face. Here Mr Xishun shakes hands with Mr Ping Ping, he's 7' 9" and Ping measures up at 2'4". The little guy is Mongolian and Bao Xishun, is a herdsman from Chifeng, Inner Mongolia. There is actually a man even shorter than Ping but he didn't make the reunion.

What's Hot in Music? Ask Big Champagne

Whenever the subject is music downloads, you hear the name "Big Champagne." These are the folks who keep track of every music fileshare, and now they're providing radio stations with lists of which songs are illegally downloaded the most, to help the stations play the songs people want to hear.

The WSJ had a story last night about this that also pointed out the difference between radio listeners and filesharers: The sharers warm to new songs faster, and the former tend to simply listen, and either like it or hate it.

Big Champagne does include iTunes downloads in their mix..."though they represent a tiny fraction of all downloads," the story said. So far there are more than 100 radio stations who've signed up to get the song intelligence, and it's working.

The other way stations glean popularity information about songs is the call out. They phone people in their listening areas and play 20-30 'hooks' or snippets of tunes, and ask them to rate them. But it's getting harder: "People don't have time, they have their phone blocked," and while they keep at it, the download data will soon eclipse these phone surveys as the number one way to determine what makes a station's playlist.

Looking Back, Candidate Rudy Doesn't Look So Good

I took the Peter Pan bus back to Springfield last night, it was the last bus. There were too many people and not enough seats...at one point the driver stepped into the bus and asked if anyone would get up and let a young girl on instead, and wait 2 more hours for the next bus. No one said anything, most people looked away. She shuffled away, sad. On the bus I had the Village Voice, and found a story about Rudy Guiliani by Tom Robbins.

"Housing? Giuliani never even bothered to hatch a policy. As the numbers of homeless rose around him and an affordable housing crisis crunched the middle class, Giuliani gave the job of running the city's housing-finance agency to the son of his political mentor, Liberal Party boss Ray Harding. Russell Harding has no background in the business and lacked a college degree.

A Voice series later helped send him to prison for stealing $400,000 from one agency (official scheduled release date: 2008). Giuliani's housing commissioner, Richard Roberts, pled guilty to federal perjury charges in the same scandal.

Still in his first term, Bloomberg launched a major initiative to build and preserve housing--one that doesn't take nearly adequate account of the need to hold onto current low-cost housing, but one that is helping to make up for eight years of inaction.

Crime? During Guiliani's reign, crime went down, as it did nationwide. But during Bloomberg's terms, even though nationally crime is up, NYC's is still going down. And when you compare both mayor's Top Cops--once convicted Bernard Kerik vs rock-jawed squeaky clean Ray Kelly, that's a major difference too.

Meeting A President at the Rainbow Room

I'm back in NYC where a light rain is falling on an internet cafe where you have to shovel dollar bills into the computer to keep it going. I'm pleased with my day. I took an early bus and made it to the Italian Tourism Commission in time for most of a presentation about Marche, a wonderful region that is little understood by American travelers. But it's one of the nicest parts of the country as Cindy and I have seen. The president of the province was here to talk about its charms and later we went out to the Rainbow Room above Rockefeller Center for a big fancy luncheon.

The food here is by Cipriani, and it was a buffet, and besides the dramatic round room, you can't really impress that much in this format. But it was nice to have some caviar and to enjoy a leg of duck and some of their signature champagne. I met a few staffers on the ad side of Conde Naste Traveler and a salesman for the Wall St. Journal. And a man I recognized from his photo in the NY Times ads--Steve Perillo of the Tour Company Perillo Tours.

Then I took a taxi downtown to meet a few of the principals in a very interesting young internet company. They have a business where they sell ads in five 'verticals' as the niches are known. Consumer electronics, fashion, finance and ahh yes, travel, that's our place. I have always found that meeting the president of a company that wants to do business with you makes it all the more positive. So I sat with Jeremy and Richard and we looked at our site and were all quite upbeat about the possibilities. This might just turn out to be a very good partnership!

Despite the fact that this is the internet, you just can't replace a face-to-face and a sit down conversation. As usual, NYC provides so much and once again I'm glad I made the trip.

Google Dials the Phone and Shows Me The Way

Will we ever stop being amazed by Google? I certainly won't. The other day I wanted to see how far the trip was from Port Authority bus terminal to my appointment at a NY ad agency. I google mapped it and stumbled upon their latest twist--360 degree camera views of what I'd see if I walked or drove the route! I was able to zoom in and see every billboard, see inside all of the shop windows and basically take a tour of the route around the corner and down to 29th Street.

Then today I had to phone my riding instructor to schedule another ride. I knew where she worked but didn't have her cell, since mine is on the fritz after spending the night in the rain (!). So I googled 'store Bernardston' and found her store and then saw another new thing. It said phone this number, and by inserting my own phone number, Google dialed the number in Bernardston for me and I reached Debby!

You'll be seeing so much more of this in the months to come. I saw an ad for the iPhone on TV where a guy was at an aquarium and got a hankering to eat seafood. A few clicks on his phone and he found the listing and then got them on the phone to reserve a table at a restaurant with fried clams.

I still hear from people who tell me that their web presence isn't that important. Woe to any business owner who thinks that it doesn't matter. I still hear too about companies with no website at all. Ok, ok, well I and thousands of others just won't find them the next time we're searching for seafood or general stores I guess.

It Makes News Sense---But Not Money Sense Yet

The American Journalism review had a story about a local news website chain failure. Exactly the kind of business you'd think would make sense and money these days. But not yet.

"By early 2007, Backfence.com had grown to 13 sites serving towns around Washington, Chicago and the San Francisco Bay area. The partners began talking about creating as many as 160 sites in 16 markets.

And then? And then the bottom dropped out. Backfence's rapid expansion burned up its $3 million war chest. The partners have split; Backfence's staff, which once numbered as many as 25, was laid off. The company's online communities are largely ghost towns now. "We ran out of money," says a somewhat chastened Potts today. "And we ran out of runway."

As big-media companies and entrepreneurs alike rush into the hyperlocal arena it's worth pausing and asking: Is there a real business in this kind of business?

So far--and admittedly it's still very early --the answer is no. A few of the estimated 500 or so "local-local" news sites claim to show a profit, but the overwhelming majority lose money.

In fact, many operators don't really have a business model. A full 80 percent said their sites either weren't covering their operating costs--or that they just weren't sure. Only 10 of the 141 said they were breaking even or earning a profit.

These days, the category's shining star--the anti-Backfence--is Baristanet.com, a scrappy, snarky local-news-and-commentary site that covers the tony New York City suburbs of Montclair and Bloomfield in New Jersey. Co-owned by a novelist (Debbie Galant) and a journalist (Liz George), the site attracts about 80,000 unique visitors a month, Baristanet has gotten so much buzz that Galant and George have recently branched out as consultants to other hyperlocal entrepreneurs.

But Baristanet (the name was picked to conjure news "baristas" serving up daily scoops) isn't exactly a big business. In fact, it's just barely a small one. The site generated about $60,000 in revenue last year. That's enough for Galant and George to hire a full-time freelance editor and a few part-time employees. Its owners aren't quitting their day jobs.

"As soon as the money's there, I'll commit to it" full-time, says George, a special sections editor at New York's Daily News. "We're growing, but we're not there yet."

In Medellin, Millions of Good March Against Bad

I am thinking and reading more about Colombia now that I'm planning to go there in early August. Today's news was heartening. In all of the country's major cities, millions marched against FARC the revolutionaries who kidnapped 11 politicians five years ago and now are being blamed for their deaths.

President Alvaro Uribe urged his citizens to press FARC to release the more than 3100 prisoners held in jungle camps. "We're millions of good people in this country and there's only a handful of bad ones," said one marcher.

Kidnapping in Colombia has fallen 83 percent since 2002 and murders are down 40 percent.

Now I feel a little better about going to Medellin.

The Love Bomb Powers the Roadhouse Friday Night

Working on a slow Saturday at the cafe. Last night I got a chance to do something I don't do enough. Listen to a live band play good old rock and roll. I joined my pals Bill, Paul, Joe and my son Sam and we drove up to the Route 63 Roadhouse in Millers Falls.

There isn't much in this little out of the way town except the famous Road House. It's the classic roadside juke joint, with a large dance floor and a revved up rock band banging out classic rock tunes. The band was called "Love Bomb" and they had a singer with shoulder length hair who knew just how to sing funky songs like "Brick House" and other irresistible tunes. They came up with songs I haven't heard in a while, some 80s tunes and some more predictable and forgettable like Satisfaction by the Stones.

We danced in a big mish mosh, a bunch of people swinging their hips and moving their arms and legs and the music was fun. Always feels good to get out and move to the beat!

No Free Parking? That's the Last Straw for These Reporters

In Vermont, the reporters for the Burlington Free Press have had it. It's the last straw. They are seething over...parking.

"While people are angry,” said one veteran journalist at Vermont’s largest daily newspaper, this week “the prevailing mood is one of disgust.”

“We feel absolutely frustrated and undervalued,” said another reporter at the Gannett chain’s Burlington Free Press on College Street in downtown Burlington. What these staffers were referring to was the announcement on Monday by Free Press management that ordinary working stiffs at the newspaper (excluding executives and the outside sales staff) would no longer have free parking provided by the newspaper. Depending at which downtown private lot they use — most are within two blocks of the office — Freeps employees began losing their free parking spots on Tuesday.

Free Press staffers, who spoke to “Inside Track” on the condition they not be identified, told us they were “stunned.”

It gets worse. Management also removed the “bottled spring water” from the newsroom, our sources say. Instead, faucets on the bathroom sinks in the staff men’s and ladies’ rooms now have mesh filters over them.

Great!
“The reason parking is provided,” said our source, “is because we often need our cars to cover a story. It’s part of our job.”

Management made the announcement to individuals or to small groups. As Monday afternoon unfolded, we’re told, “People were standing around, openly complaining. People were pissed and took it as a personal insult.”

But, sources added, Carey’s real message was, “If you don’t like it, find a new job.”
The fact is, said one reporter, “We’re spread too thin as it is.”

“They’ve finally crossed a line,” said one reporter. “They have no idea what we do in the newsroom.” “Our CEO makes $16 million a year,” said another, “and our news operation has become unimportant — even locally.”

In London, Congestion Pricing Worked

I'm going to New York City next week. This made me think about a recent proposal by Mayor Bloomberg to begin charging cars a 'congestion fee' to enter the city. I think this is a fantastic idea.

London began congestion pricing in 2003, and the grumblings of a few have turned into an overwhelming majority of residents saying yes...even when they hiked the daily fee to more than $12. London Mayor Ken Livingstone wrote a piece in the NY Times about his city's experience.

"Like New York’s plan, London’s congestion program initially met with some skepticism. Before the program began, polls showed that public opinion was divided almost exactly evenly. Since then, opinion has shifted to 2-to-1 in favor.

The results have led us to expand the initial program. In February the existing congestion charging zone was extended westward, doubling its size. Traffic in the extended zone fell by 13 percent.

The next stage of congestion charging in London will be a move to emissions-based charging. This will be aimed at deterring vehicles with the highest carbon emissions, like sports utility vehicles, from entering the city center. The new program will impose a payment of £25 per day for such vehicles, as well as abolish the 90-percent exemption that their owners would receive if they were residents of the congestion charging zone. Incidentally, this charge for S.U.V.’s enjoys 3-to-1 popular support.

Is London’s success a guarantee that congestion charging will work in New York? Of course not. But it is an indicator that properly executed congestion pricing works, and works well. Singapore and Stockholm already operate such programs and other cities are examining them. Given the success of congestion charging in London, this is not surprising.

Aging Baby Boomers Will Love this Fast Track

It's the fourth of July in the cafe, and we're getting our reward for sending out emails to our coffee lovers. I got at least six people who said they came in 'cause we sent the email. It's not that busy but it is always heartening to welcome new folks here. Among them was a local man with a large Honda Gullwing motorcycle and the principal of the Deerfield Elementary school, both here for their first visit.

Today's WSJ has a story about a place where drivers of fast cars can go to put the pedal to the metal--legally. In Monticello, NY, a course is being built at a $50 million cost that will allow speeds up to 200 mph. Passing is not allowed. In the passenger seat sits an instructor, who tells the novice Ferrari or Porsche owner when to speed up and when to slow down.

Of course, like so many things in life these days---this won't come cheap. Initiation fees of $100,000, and annual dues of up to $7500 will make this appropriate for those who spend $200K on their cars. It turns out one of the owners of the track, Michael Kaplan, did some research and found that New York, Jersey and Connecticut had the highest concentration of fast car owners in the US.

The new track will be heaven for those who want to speed--straightaways with twice the width of an interstate, and triple wide around corners. A one-mile straight shot will be a perfect place to really test out their cars top speeds.

A Sailor Slips and Spends Naked Time in Nantucket Sound

While I sat out on the narrow balcony of the MV Surfside Motel in Oak Bluffs, I read the MV Times' account of a harrowing tale a seaman's disaster. The story of Charles Samuelson, an experienced ocean sailor, who slipped and fell off his 42 foot Beneteau Yaquina sailboat. The boat continued on without him until beaching itself on Cape Poge, and was recovered the next day.

But he slipped...and found himself in roaring currents between Martha's Vineyard and the mainland. He tried grabbing the line for the dingy being towed behind, but ended up under it, as water streamed by him. The force of the water pulled off first, his lifejacket, then all of his clothes. He lay there, shivering, but remembered what to do...he crossed hims arms and legs and lay on his back.

He was rescued after an indeterminate amount of minutes by a former Boston Bruins hockey player, Jay Miller, who passed him on his way back from John Havlicheck's fishing tournament.

Nelson Sigelman sums up the sailor's thoughts after the ordeal. "He thought he was prepared. He was wearing a knife and a life belt and was towing a dingy."

Would a Book About the Mayflower Bore You?

I got a glimpse into the worldview of a younger generation the other day, when my daughter Kate returned from a press trip up to Old Orchard Beach, ME. She was there to write an article for GoNOMAD about a family vacation, and told me what she hated most. "All that stuff about the old hotel, and the fire in 1906, that was really boring," she said. "I hate listening to history lessons I just want to know about what's there today," she said.

Then I showed her a book that I was very pleased arrived in my mailbox yesterday, that I had ordered from Penguin. It's Nathaniel Philbrick's latest book called Mayflower. I read the back cover with rapture: "an extraordinary journey to understand the truth behind our most sacred national myth: the voyage of the Mayflower and the settlement of Plymouth Colony....a fifty-five year epic that began in peril and ended in a war."

Wow, with that you got me...but she read it with a sarcastic sneer. "This sounds soooo boring, how can you read this?" I guess that is what's neat about books. People just have their own preferences, and only sometimes do they merge.

One guy who reads a whole lotta books who often shares my taste is Kentski. When I show him this book, he just might want to borrow it. So in spite of the fact that I didn't pass along a gene that makes history interesting, at least I can count on my friends to share good books and take an interest in the ones I love.

The Man Who Brought Back 'Gansett

Can one man bring back an old brand by following the advice of an advertising company? Sure. "Just go out and listen," says Lois Kelly, managing partner at Foghound in Providence. Today's WSJ tells the dramatic success story of Narragansett Brewery.

The aging RI beermaker was resurrected by Mark Hellendrung, mostly by stopping in and visiting 60-70 taverns and package stores each week, gaining their trust, getting them to sip the beer, and setting up displays. He got to know the people who were adopting his beer as their own.

The boss also brought back Bill Anderson, the brewer who brought back the old recipe for 'Gansett before the many dilutions and changes that made it a terrible product for years. The tour of New England taverns gave them a chance to try the new old taste.

Now the company 'courts bar owners with personalized messages printed on the underside of caps. "They'll put 'Ralph's Diner Rocks,' or 'Thanks, Vincent,' they're really getting bar owners involved."
Twenty-somethings like the beer because, he says, 'it's so uncool that it's cool.'

Sales of the brew tell a success story: From about $100,000 per year to $5 million this year.

A Serene Scene As Two Deserving People Get Together

This weekend was a momentus occasion. Our family gathered for a wedding--my sister Jen, who is 50, finally tied the knot with her wonderful mate Steve Gilbert. We trucked out to the Vineyard for the occasion, staying over in the funky and fun MV Surfside Motel in Oak Bluffs.

The ceremony was real--none of the hype and bluster and falseness that sometimes creeps into the words people use when they write their vows. No, this was real and true to the heart, gratitude for having found eachother and sincere wishes from all assembled that they continue being happy together. His two sons and her son Tom all said in unison, when asked if they'd support this marriage: "We Will."

And proud Nat and Val, when asked if they give this daughter of theirs to be married to this gentle man, Steve, said, "We Do!"

The menu for this occasion was delicious, just as you'd expect from Jen, who has catered so many hundreds of other couple's weddings in her long food career. Last night the food, the ambience, the serene calm over the waters in the distant Menemsha harbor in the distance, all were perfect and the wedding was too.

Congrats, sister, and welcome new Brother in Law Steve!