Gustav Threatens the Gulf Coast -- We Wait and Watch

Hurricane Gustav is bringing strong winds and bad memories to the Gulf Coast, and the entire country seems to be keeping a close, earnest watch on the situation.

In the French quarter of New Orleans, buildings are boarded up and residents are leaving in droves. Gustav has been downgraded to a category three storm as of this morning, but it could still pick up steam, and tropical storm Hanna is close behind. No one seems to be taking any chances; we've been down that road before.

To track the storm, check out the National Hurricane Center , which offers constantly updated graphics, audio podcasts, and mobile-phone advisories. I used to think this work was really cool, but now I realize how important it is, too.
--WJ

Biomass Plant Rejected in Russell

The big news in alternative energy in Mass. this morning is the latest development in the controversial Russell Biomass project, a proposed 50-megawatt wood-burning power plant.

The Boston Globe reports that the Dept. of Public Utilities ruled the facility would cause "significant, disrupting, and lasting" impacts on the town. Most specifically, this ruling refers to the heavy truck traffic that is expected if the plant is constructed.

The arguments on either side of this issue are heavily charged. Proponents say it's a move away from fossil fuels that will do a lot of societal good; opponents say the plant will have too many detrimental effects on the bucolic environment of Russell, nestled in the Hilltowns of Western Mass. 

Either way, this is a major setback for Russell Biomass, but the company's principals, like Bill Hull, say they're not out of the woods yet. Hull says now, it's "back to the drawing board" for him. That seems to mean the debate is going to rage on, too; in the same Globe article, leader of the Concerned Citizens of Russell Jana Chicoine said Hull and his partners should "pick up their marbles and go home."

  -- WriterJax

Max is in Colombia, so now you're stuck with me

WriterJax here. I'm one of Max's intrepid GoNomad.com travel writers, here to man the ship while Max is away in South America.

Color me jealous. While it's true that Max needed to whittle his luggage down to a lean 22 pounds for this trip, thus negating any thoughts of bringing his laptop and dutifully blogging away, I think the inconvenience is made up for by the fact that these will be his front-porch views for the next week:
This is the El Cantil Eco Hotel in Nuqui, part of Colombia's Pacific Coast. According to the Web site, there are ocean and jungle views, kayaks and boogie boards to play with, and an on-site restaurant at this solar- and hydro-powered hotel. But no Internet access - so Max was destined to be off the grid no matter what.

As he basks in the South American sun and snuggles in his mosquito-net-protected bed, I'll be here to talk about things I see, hear, and read, in true ReadUpOnIt style.

Off to El Cantil, in the Colombian Jungle by the Sea

Here is where we will be staying in Nuqui, the remote beach town that's surrounded by jungles on Colombia's Pacific coast. We will go whale watching and jungle hiking for the next seven days.

It's called El Cantil Eco hotel, and it's powered by hydrology and a micro-turbine. They have boats, surfboards, boogie boards and hammocks for lazy afternoons on two terraces overlooking the sea.

I can't wait to see this place for myself tomorrow night.

A Guest Blogger Steps in to Write Readuponit

Today is the last day I will be in the states until Sept 7. Tomorrow at the crack of dawn I meet Larry and we will fly to Miami, to Medellin, and then in a tiny plane to the seaside village of Nuqui, Colombia.

I've already asked and no, there will be no internet there, so I am bringing in one of my favorites to guest blog for me in my absence. Jackie Stevenson will be taking care of my duties, and I can't want to read the posts when I get back. Here she is pictured at her June wedding in Cape Cod.

As I've often said in these pre-trip blogs, this is the time that's the hardest for me. It's figuring out what to bring, what not to forget, trying to make it all weigh less than 20 lbs and doing all of the last minute things since I won't have any way of doing them by email. I'll trust my great staff to handle details: Kim will be boss of the cafe, and Steve will be boss of the website office.

Well, here I go, no turning back....hope everything's ok until I get back!

The Recorder's Editorial Board is 'Sold on Tag Sales'

I don't usually read the Recorder's editorial page, but there it was, an irresistable headline: "Sold on the tag sales." The great grey beast has decided to come out in favor of our idea of holding the Town Wide Tag Sale, and in the lead editorial encouraged the Deerfield Selectboard to approve the idea, since it has the potential to bring people to town, and it's not just 'business as usual.'

Then I went to the post office, and Kathy the clerk brought it up, saying she thought it was a great idea. Then I got a call at the cafe, it was Chris Collins of WHMP, wanting me to come on the show and talk about the tag sales. At 7:45, I'll chat up the host, who now does the radio show solo, after the Advocate's Tom Vannah has moved on. Hey, I can see some momentum here!

Just as all of this starts to gel, and the Selectmen meet on Sept 4--poof! I fly south to Colombia. I am joining my friends Larry Parnass, Tom Gates and Adam Graham on a journey to a small fishing village on the remote Pacific coast of this wild country. The plane is so small that we've been asked to bring just 22 pounds of gear. And I've already been assured, there is no internet, so no laptop will be needed.

As much as I hate to leave in the heat of battle, travel is in my blood, and so I'll be on the way to the airport early Thursday. You'll hear all about it some time after Sept 7, when I can again hook myself up to post blogs.

Ted Kennedy, Beloved Senator, Addresses the Faithful

Ted Kennedy, half of his silver hair missing from intense chemotherapy, made it to the podium tonight in Denver. He delivered a rousing speech that reaffirmed my belief that he is indeed an admirable man who has spent nine terms as a Senator working for worthy and just causes.

I haven't been a Kennedy voter that many times. I've cast my votes against him, here in Massachusetts, yet tonight I admit that I admire him and felt a tear coming on thinking that the senator is on his last months of his life.

With a brain tumor recently removed, and now fighting the ravages of the most dreaded of diseases, here he was--hardy, brave, speaking in a strong and forceful way as he has done for decades. He has been described as possibly the most effective senator who ever walked the halls of Congress. Whether you agree with him or not, he's the one who forces legislation through, he is the one who knows how the power works and who has forged alliances with GOP senators he disagreed with, all to get some legislation done. These compromises are the way it works in politics, and why I was so disappointed in Deval Patrick, who, when the fight was needed to be fought, took his limo to New York to sign a book contract.

Patrick's no Ted Kennedy. Indeed, there is nobody like him. Tonight's Democratic convention will always be known as the one where Ted Kennedy rallied, against doctor's orders, to come speak to the people who love and admire him. When he said he was so happy to be right here, in Denver, I believed him. And I do hope that in January 2009, Ted gets a chance to witness Barack Obama being sworn in and that he can fight for health care and the many other causes he has fought for once again.

Republican Blogger Thinks Mitt Ain't It

It's early, early, early...but since I couldn't get back to sleep I had time to read the Boston Herald. Now that Obama has chosen Joe Biden as his running mate, most of the nation's political eyes are trained on McCain...who will he pick? Last week the pundits were talking up Mitt Romney. It turns out that rumor was actually put out by Romney's own people, and well respected news sources like Time Magazine had to retract the leaked news.

Boston Herald's "Lone Republican" blogger Holly Robichaud thinks that it won't be the Mittster. She lists some good reasons, number one being that he owns five houses. The last thing McCain needs is another guy with a ton of dough who reminds the public about having many houses.
Plus, she says, he didn't win New Hampshire and isn't likely to help McCain win Michigan. She maintains that his negative ads, fueled by his own millions, were just too harsh on McCain to expect the two to kiss and make up.

Another reason Robichaud declares that Mitt won't be the one is that he is a major 'flip flopper,' a word near and dear to McCain's heart. He loves to accuse Obama of this, so Mitt, who has changed his position many times too, would be ripe for a Democratic attack.

Some Authors Can't Smell Their Own B.O.

One of my favorite parts of a Sunday NY Times is that thin little Book Review, that I never read first but usually get around to poking through at the very end of the day. There are so many books out there and so many more being put out every day that nobody could read them all. But the Book Review gives me a chance to glimpse into many of the most critically acclaimed tomes one after another. So many times I plan to read these books but only get as far as the reviews.

I read a scathing review of Paul Theroux's most recent book, where he revisits the places he wrote about thirty years ago in "The Great Railway Bazaar." The headline made no mention of the savagery which was to come. Rightly so, reviewer Robert MacFarlane calls the old codger and world's grumpiest travel writer out on his sheer egotism and narcissism. He uses words that I've always wanted to use, like 'risible,' when he accuses Theroux of vast generalizations and oversimplifications. "Such tossed-off one-liners are risible in isolation, but in sum they suggest a systematic laziness of thought."

He gets tougher, comparing the book's self-absorbed style to body odor."Certain writers have a style that can be best likened to body odor: irresistable to some, obnoxious to many and apparently imperceptible to the writer himself. Theroux's lack of self-awareness, his failure to observe the basic hygiene of modesty, is compelling in its way. How can anyone be this narcissistic, you wonder in disbelief, in appalled fascination."

Finally Theroux makes a grand conclusion about the train trip from London to Tokyo via India and Southeast Asia, and talks about the differences from this journey today and the one he made 30 years before. Dismissing the vast societal, political and environmental changes, Theroux, predicably, says that 'the greatest difference was in me. I had survived the long road that lead to the present.' Like MacFarlane, I've got to call the old grump out---no you're not the only thing that's changed, I've gotta tell ya.

The Busiest Man at the Festival

Beer was the drink of choice at the Deerfield Farm Fest, and this guy was nice enough to hand me two free beers, maybe because he's a cafe regular.

The Golden Spike Ales went down smooth and the music was wonderful...all in all a great way to spend a summer day in our lovely town.

The Music, and Atmosphere Great, Sales Lousy

We brought the cafe show on the road and manned a booth at the Deerfield Farm Festival tonight, with mixed results. It was fun to create the booth and get the signage all set up and see our cafe employees making gobs of cupcakes, muffins, scones and brownies. We all pulled together and the result was a professional looking booth with all sorts of delicious foods and coffee. The video shows a band called Wild-wood that played snappy country-jazz, I wish I could have stayed to hear more of them.

The farm fest began at 2 pm, under a searing sun that beat down unmercifully on everyone in the farm fields enjoying the festivities. There were rows of farm equipment on display, including a sweet corn harvester, which is a rarity on the East coast, and a dog herding sheep.

We set it all up and hoped to have customers but it was really too late for coffee, and over there, hey, a beer tent was dispensing seven delicious Berkshire Brewing Company beers by the tap. A choice that most people made was to go for the suds, and so our coffee remained hot in our cambros. Tomorrow you'll see many of these pastries in our case, so all is not lost.

We were scheduled to keep vending until 8 but at 6:30 Samantha called so we wrapped it up at 7. But I told them to grab some brews, enjoy the music, and have fun. Despite our less-than-stellar sales, I told Cindy that next year I want to come and enjoy this scene. It was jazzy country music, tasty beer, simple food and a convivial atmosphere of familiar faces...in short a great way to spend a Saturday night in Deerfield.

Faux Farmer's Market for Mel's Movie in Hamp

Sometimes in the cafe customers begin bellowing a story clear across the room. I"ll answer and we'll begin a rollicking dialogue, from our posts 25' apart. A few days ago, Whately Farmer Dave Jackson strolled in. He said that the producers of the Mel Gibson movie, Edge of Darkness, had offered him and a bunch of other farmers $1000 each if they'd set up a farmer's market on a Tuesday morning. Their regular Gothic St. farm market day is Saturday. But for the movie, this sounds like it's worth it.

Dave of course, wants to get on camera. He saw the notice in the Gazette about the casting tryouts for 'old hippies,' and figures he's a lock. Watch for the faux farmer's market (not sure if anyone will be able to buy anthing or whether it will all be for show) coming in October to Northampton's Gothic St.

Town Wide Tag: Every Sale on the Google Map

Tonight I paced, waiting until 7:29 to leave the house to attend the Deerfield Selectboard meeting at town hall. I was on the agenda but first the distinguished state senator Stan and state rep Steve who were there to present an award to a 24-year volunteer, Richard Stellman.

I chatted up the Gazette reporter who I had met in the afternoon in my office, trying to fill him in on what was being discussed. "Oxford" came up, which I explained, refers to the 16 acres in the center of the village that is being developed by the town. (I hope I can move there someday.)

When it was my turn, I realized that since there were no spectators, I was talking to the CCTV more than just to the Selectboard. They too, spoke into the camera but often they talked so softly that even a strong mike would be challenged to hear it. We batted around the various contingencies, discussed having Steve Schecterle's lot available for people who want to set up sales and don't have a yard. Carolyn and Mark both were enthusiastic about the idea, and wanted to make it happen. It's called Tag Sale Day in Deerfield.

We talked about them waiving the $5 fee, but keeping the requirement to get a license to have a sale. Then Bernie brought out the 1977 era regulations on sales. More discussion. Then Mark Gilmore suggested that it would be a good thing to have the sales out there on the road on the way into town, because there are a lot of parking spots.

Then John Paciorek, who had been silent throughout the discussion so far, weighed in, sagely, sharply. "I went into this saying I didn't like this. But... I'm willing to give it a try." He suggested that we still charge the fee for the sale permits. But we'd limit the number of permits, so that they were more in demand. So there will be just 100 permits available, first-come, first serve. The list of tag sales and the map will be published on the Deerfield Attractions.com website, so anyone will be able to find all of the sales. This is going to make people eager to jump in and get the permit, because it will be so well publicized on the web.

We still need to check on police issues and confirm our date but it is tentatively scheduled for Saturday Oct 4 from 8 am to 2 pm. Stay tuned, this idea is going to get a lot of life going in the little towne. And it all started with a website called Deerfield Attractions.

From WRSI to MSNBC, Maddow Hits the Big Time

Rachel Maddow has hit the big time. I remember a few years ago when I used to appear on her morning show on WRSI FM. I'd pop down to the Northampton studio about 7 am, and we'd talk about travel tips. Eventually she had to refrain from bringing me on since the management decided I was tooting my own horn too loudly. But it was fun while it lasted.

Last night I read that on September 8, Maddow will host her own show on MSNBC, taking the 9 pm spot from Dan Abrams. Fellow liberal Keith Olbermann had used her as a fill-in host, and he was crowing about how deserving she is of her own hour on Daily Kos. He also lamented that he now had to find another top quality sub for his show.

Rachel has an incredible and encyclopedic grasp of the issues, a knowledge of the players and of current events, and now that Rush Limbaugh has heard of her, she's ready for television. Pundits are saying that this signals MSNBC is making a major tilt to the left.

The photo of her was striking---well coiffed and in a sleek dress. A far cry from the Converse All-stars and tee shirt she used to wear in the WRSI studio.

I wish her the best of luck in TV. The best part of this story is that it was simply her raw talent that got her the gig. She has endured years on the shrill Air America, and now will be on a channel that just about everybody gets on basic cable. Congrats, Rachel!

College Loans or $34 an Hour...Your Choice

I read a story in the WSJ about how energy companies are working hard to convince high schoolers to forgo college for a trade education. I'm passing this along to my son, it's good advice.

"In many parts of the economy, there are too many workers, rather than too few. Since January, the U.S. has lost 463,000 jobs. Residential construction and manufacturers that rely primarily on the U.S. market have been hit especially hard.

But the energy industry is hard up for workers who, among other things, can make precision welds, fit pipes for pipelines and oil refineries, and understand the complex electrical wiring in modern power plants. Though the weak housing market has idled many workers who did similar jobs for home builders, their skills often aren't sharp enough to make the cut.

Dusty Henry, a 25-year-old electrician in Portland, Ore., who belongs to IBEW Local 48, says he earns $34 an hour working on renewable-energy projects while some of his friends who went to college are having a hard time finding jobs.

"I chose the path that I wanted to take...and learned as much as I could for that one thing," Mr. Henry said. "You go to college to kind of figure out what you want to do, but if you don't figure it out, you go out with debt and you still don't know."

In Indiana, where BP PLC is spending $3.8 billion to expand its Whiting refinery, demand for carpenters, electricians, pipe fitters and several other trades is expected to outstrip supply by 16% or more in the current quarter, according to construction-industry consulting and investment banking firm FMI Corp."

Jerry Wexler: "All I Could Do Was Sit There and Weep"

Jerry Wexler was a renowned music producer who died last week at 91. He was remembered by Jim Fusilli in today's WSJ, a portrait of a man who considered was 'abrasive, derisive and cynical," by many people, but beloved by artists like Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles.

He will be remembered as the man who brought Franklin over to Atlantic Records from Columbia, where her career was faltering. Jerry would say, 'we all feel good about it tonight, but let's see how we feel in the morning,' wanting to capture both carefully prepared and spontaneous moments in the studio.

The story reveals how the great R&B producer chafed after Atlantic's new management put him under another legendary producer Ahmet Ertegun, and so he left after 22 years to work for Warner Music. He signed Dire Straits, the B-52s and other greats.

In his autobiography, Wexler talks about a transcendent musical moment in 1971. Aretha was performing at the Fillmore East with a band led by King Curtis, and Ray Charles came out and joined them onstage for a version of 'Spirit in the Dark.' Writing about this moment, he said he 'witnessed two geniuses from two distinct periods in my life, merging so easily, so naturally, so inevitably. All I could do was sit there and weep."

He Stole from the Cafe--But Redeemed Himself

In today's mail I got an postal money order and this note. It was from Richard, who worked in the cafe before he moved out to San Francisco earlier this summer.

"Dear Max

While I was working at GoNOMAD, more than one occasion I helped myself to food (sandwiches, muffins, etc) without paying. I also took a small amount of coffee beans. I want to repay you for what I took on these occasions, so I have enclosed a money order for the amount of $30 to cover what I took. I also offer you my apologies for stealing from you and your business, and I hope this can make up for it. I wish you all the best."

This note from Richard made my day. Not only did I not realize that he had taken anything but his gracious note and the way he did it more than makes up for it. I hope that future employees, of course, don't steal to begin with..but if they do this is a good model for how to make it better.

Circolo Italiano: A Club for People Who Love Italia

It's a gorgeous day at the cafe. But I'm not supposed to be here. I got a call, one of those somewhat rare calls from the cafe, when one of my workers called in sick. So here I am taking my first break of the day after slinging hash and cranking coffee all morning.

It's the day of our club picnic....Circolo Italiano, the only club that I've ever joined. It's a group of fifty-somethings who all have an affinity for Italy. Cindy of course, is Miss Italy, speaking the language beautifully and even setting the controls on her GPS to show up in Italian--same with her iPod. Today's the day of our annual summer picnic, where we gather in an Easthampton park and enjoy a potluck, the music of roving Italian musicians, and maybe even a little bocce. I'll have to be late to this important annual occasion on account of my being way up here. The club meetings usually feature a speaker on some sort of cultural topic like Italian art, food, or culture, followed by a potluck. And lots of red wine.

I've been a member of Circolo Italiano since 2002, when I met Cindy. She took me to my first meeting, on a lovely Sunday afternoon in rural Colrain MA. There we dined at the Green Emporium, and we've been members ever since. I have my lovely Cindy to thank for this pleasant diversion--a club that I'm happy to be a member of.

Sales Tax Weekend is a Brilliant Way to Jumpstart the Sluggish Economy

What a concept! Have a special weekend when the state won't take their five percent cut of any purchase in a store...advertise it heavily and then the merchants pick up and advertise it. And pretty soon every store in the state is full of eager shoppers, wanting to spend money, finally splurging on those items they were going to buy but needed a little push.

This idea is brilliant....and the lines at Home Depot and Costco prove that this is truly the way to stimulate an economy. Forget about having the IRS mail out 60 million letters then mail out $600 or $1200 checks, this is the way. Just remove the state tax and people will spend, spend, spend, until they're spent.

The legislatures of other states have chickened out...deciding that they can't afford this two-day sales tax holiday. Thank heavens our state politicians didn't get cold feet and let this festival of capitalism take place. This is a stimulis package that doesn't cost as much as what the feds did, but I think the results will be more impressive for these two days than for all that money the US treasury mailed out in rebates.

Renegade Site Gives Away Magazines for Free

I've just spent the last hour reading magazines. For free, on-line, flipping through the pages of Popular Photography and the National Enquirer as easily as I might read them in the check-out line of the supermarket. I found them all at a site that is making magazine publishers reach for their phones to call their attorneys. It's called mygazines.com and I highly recommend you check it out before the injunctions take effect and the pleasure won't be available any more.

One attorney put it bluntly: it's a copyright violation sitting there waiting to be taken to court. But the site, which encourages viewers to scan magazines they buy and upload them for all to share, is based offshore, in the British island of Angilla, so it's hard to nail them. The site was featured on Romanesko today, so nearly every editor has read about it.

And if they are magazine publishers, they are probably smarting, like record executives and victims of software piracy. The strange part about the Mygazines site is that there are no ads, no obvious attempts to make money by their illicit sharing of the magazine content. Still, they are liable for the lawsuits.

More Good News for Solar Electricity Generation

The relentless progress of alternative energy is leaving the government in its wake. More and more utilities are seeing the value of large-scale solar arrays to generate not just hot water but electricity. Today in the WSJ I read about Pacific Gas and Electric, which just signed on to the largest single photovoltaic commitment from an electric utility anywhere in the world.

They'll be buying power from OptiSolar's new 550 megawatt Topaz Solar Farm project, near the Central California coast. The panels will begin making electricity in 2011.

Another person who is in the alternative energy spotlight is T. Boone Pickens, who I trumpeted before for his Pickens Plan. Looking further into what he's up to, a fellow blogger Daryl LaFleur, who writes "Northampton Redoubt" (what DOES that mean, anyway?) said 'check out Picken's water plan.

Indeed not only does this aging Texas oilman have a big grand wind energy play, he wants to build a pipeline to carry water hundreds of miles from an aquifer in North Texas to thirsty Dallas and Houston. Daryl seemed to think that there was something sinister in the water scheme. To me it just makes sense. Bring water from one of the biggest aquifers in the US where few people live and few people need water, to a city where the needs are great.

Juan Williams interviewed Pickens and asserted that he is doing this for a big payday. "I've already had plenty of big paydays," said T. Boone. "I'm doing this because America needs help and this plan just makes sense." I believe him--not everybody is out for the bucks.

Making the Front Look as Good as the Inside

Flowers can change a building's tone, as illustrated here at the GoNOMAD cafe, in the center of South Deerfield.

Meeting My Oil Man at Dinner by the Hall of Fame

Last night was a Wednesday, so as custom lately has dictated, it was time to go out for dinner. Cindy has enjoyed not having a messy kitchen and I've enjoyed finding new and different places to have our weekday night out. Often it's the old standby, The Apollo Grill in Easthampton, sometimes we sit outside at the Northampton Brewery. Last night though, we went a little farther afield and ended up right next to the Interstate at Max's Tavern in Springfield.

With cars wizzing by on the busy highway, tables were set on a patio in front of the large building right next to the Basketball Hall of Fame. The place was full of people our age, who want to go out for dinner but probably don't want to go into downtown. I can't blame them, since stabbings and shootings are all too common and who wants to navigate and try to find a parking place on a dark side street? Here we joined affluent couples who had parked right out front (some even took advantage of valet parking, to which we scoffed).

We sat for a while outside waiting for a table then we were seated. A waitress who said her name was Jessica and she would be our server tonight came over, she brought the two glasses of white wine to us in little bottles and swished them into the glasses.

It was a nice scene, later a man began playing familiar tunes on a guitar, and my oil man approached us. Ben Surner has had this title since I met him in 1982 when I sold him Val-Pak coupons. "Hey Ben, when is my oil price going down?" I asked jokingly. As we shook hands, he had good news. "I've just negotiated a great price for the year...just today. Your new oil price will be $4.09 a gallon!" I had gotten a notice from his company that my budget plan would cost me $4.60 a gallon this year. Ouch!

It is always nice to run into people who I've known for decades who come with goods news about a commodity I have no choice but to pay for. Thanks, Ben, for the good news!

Deerfield Attractions Promotes Deerfield

Deerfield Attractions work has been keeping me busy lately. Lots of promotions that we are organizing, and sometimes it comes down to the 'I' am organizing. I wrote a letter to the Deerfield Selectboard asking them to approve my idea for a Town Wide Tag Sale on October 4.

We have been meeting and discussing a fall promotion among the businesses of Deerfield that would begin in September. The group is full of good energy and good ideas, and it feels like a strong promotional advantage to band together.

We want to have this event to stir up some business and keep people thinking of coming to Deerfield for a daytrip. I love organizing this stuff, even though more than one person has reminded me that I should stick to my knitting, running the website.

Another diversion is outfitting our first foray into catering. We are going to be selling coffee, cookies, ice coffee and water at the Deerfield Farm Festival, on a farm field in Deerfield. They expect 700 people to show up, so it will be a great showcase for the cafe. I've ordered a 10 x 10 canopy that will be our vending post for the festival.

Chavez Puts His Ego Ahead of Progress

Some of my friends speak highly of Venezuela's strong man Hugo Chavez. This pisses me off, because I detest what he's doing to his country and his dangerous braggadocio all over the world stage.

I have read travelers' accounts of how pathetic it is there compared with neighboring countries like Colombia. One traveler said he crossed the border and once he was in Venezuela, the store shelves were empty, and the roads in terrible shape. I read about how Hugo wants to develop a dairy industry, so he built these huge dairy processing plants yet there is no gas to get the milk to them from the far-flung farms. Another example of state-run business that like socialism, just doesn't work.

Last night I read a favorite author of mine, Carolyn O'Grady in the WSJ, who wrote about what it is like to be an enemy of Chavez in Venezuela. "Last week his handpicked supreme court ruled that 260 aspiring candidates for the November municipal and gubernatorial elections--most of who oppose him--will be barred from the ballot because they have been accused of corruption." Not convicted, accused. That's apparently enough in the Strongman's world. By fiat, they all have been declared guilty, and that is that.

There are many political prisoners languishing in Venezuela's jails, including Ivan Simonovis, former chief of police in Caracas, who was in office on April 20, 2002, when Chavez resigned briefly and in the end seventeen people were murdered. Chavez took over as head of the police, arrested the former chief in 2004 and he's been imprisoned in solitary in a four-meter cell with no windows or ventilation. No bother to investigate the murders, according to Chavez.

The next time I hear praise for 'the courageous Chavez' or thanks for his largesse with Citgo's oil, I will bring up the many prisoners and the articles that show that his leadership is about his ego, not at all about making life better for ordinary Venezuelans.

Follow the Oil Man to a Secure Energy Future

This is a plan I think we should push our leaders to adopt.

Visit PickensPlan

Say You're Sorry To Mr. and Mrs. Utz--Or Else!

Mad Men is a television show that's been lauded and praised by many. I caught the past two shows and think the buzz is deserved. The opening credits give you a hint that it's a little different from most 2008 scripted TV fare. In an animated sequence, a man wearing a thin tie falls slowly off a building, a cartoon that's inspired by a Hitchcock movie. Even many of the commercials are a homage to the early sixties, and slides before each break tell us advertising history over the ages.

Set in 1963, it tells the story of Dan Draper, ad man, who like most of the cast, chain smokes and regularly pops down brown liquor from a bar in his corner office. The New York ad agency is full of characters who also smoke and do bad things with secretaries, and Draper in his thin tie and serious demeanor is a tough cookie. His wife looks like Grace Kelly, with the perfect blond hair and calm Nordic outlook. Their two kids are just what central casting would provide, cute but out of the way, watching cartoons on a black and white TV. While Dan carries on with various women, she's being propositioned by a man in the stable where she rides.

Last night's episode began with the filming of a commercial for Utz Potato chips. A comedian named Jimmy Barrett, played brilliantly by Patrick Fishler, is reading his lines in take after take. Then a couple comes on the set, the man with silver hair and the woman, obese. Barrett swerves from his script and begins doing a "Hindenberg' routine, then makes more cruel jokes about her weight, as the stunned crew and director look on, aghast. The couple is Mr and Mrs Utz Potato Chip, and the comedian is in deep doo doo. But he doesn't care.

Later Draper is incensed when he hears about the famous comedian who was so mean to his clients, jeopardizing the account. He sets up a dinner at Lutece, and when Barrett and his floozy wife/manager finally show up to the dinner late, the comedian mocks the waiter with the French accent. Because Draper and wife/manager had a fling in the car the week before, Draper's demand that Barrett apologize and save the account is more complicated. He pins her up against the wall and forces her to bring Jimmy to heel.

The rest of the dinner sequence is awkward, with the comedian asking prim and proper Mrs. Draper inaproppriate questions about horses while the Utz couple look on, waiting for Jimmy to say he's sorry. It's a masterful scene in a well-written show that captures the details--even the wide newspapers--of a faraway time.

The Dollar is Climbing Back--Good News for Travelers

As an American traveler, one topic that I care deeply about is the value of the dollar. Over the past year, changing my crisp 100 dollar bills into euros or kronors or pesos has been a bummer of an experience. And it's rare to speak with a traveler returning from England or Europe who doesn't comment on how expensive everything was over there.

The worst was in May when I was in France and bought euros for $1.74 each. That was more than depressing, and with the added commission, my hundreds turned into a handful of euros, quickly used up with a few souvenirs and glasses of vino.

But Friday's Wall St. Journal had good news for travelers like me, with a headline that claimed "The Dollar's Best Gain in Six Years Powers Stocks." Yeah baby!

Apparently it takes bad news for Europe's economy to pump up our dollar. It's the bad news there that has brought the US dollar to a rate of just $1.50 against the euro. While we have writhed in pain over the subprime mortgage and the oil price crisis, Europe's woes are just beginning.

"Historically, the dollar's bull and bear markets tend to run in cycles of five to seven years. With the current period of dollar weakness approaching the top end of this historic range, some say that the dollar isn't just stabilizing. It could be in the early stages of an extended rally."

But the article also warned that analysts have forecasted the end of the bummer exchange rate, only to be hit with another plunge. Still, this $1.50 range is considered a 'critical resistance point' so after this it might be more downhill for the euro.

I hope this good news sticks around until Sept 14 when I'll have to buy more euros in the Alps.

How About $20 for a Year--Will You Buy Time Magazine for That? How about a Free Laser Level Too?

I got a solicitation from Time magazine in the mail at the cafe this morning. The regular newsstand price, it trumpeted, was $252 per year for 56 issues. The offer was a year of Time for twenty bucks. Oh, and if I sent back the card with payment, they'd send me an LED level, and extend the subscription for another eight months. WOW!

This leads me to the story posted by Jim Romanesko, from Women's Wear Daily. The headline says it all: Magazine Circulation falls in Half. Now, the publishers are pointing out that competitors' sales fell more than theirs, and even the term 'flat is the new up,' is out. Now it's more like 'well things are bad but they are worse for the other guys.'

I always felt that the newsstand game was a loser's proposition. At Transitions Abroad, a travel magazine that was once published in Amherst, I served as Managing Editor and worked with a newsstand company to help sell it on newsstands.

We succeeded in getting the magazine onto every Barnes and Noble in the US. That cost us about $3500, which they conveniently took out of future newsstand sales. Then the company would return about 55 percent of the issues that didn't sell, and they would take about six months to pay us for the other 45 percent that did actually sell. The cover price was $4.95 but they paid us half of that. In the end, nobody made any money and all we got was the tepid satisfaction of seeing the issues on the shelves of our local Barnes and Noble store in Hadley.

The experts say it's high gas prices, fewer supermarket trips, and less disposable income. Magazine publishers hope it is these reasons, and not a sea change in how people consume media...but I think that the latter is ultimately the reason. And this doesn't bode well for the future of magazines.

Endless Unison Amazes and Dazzles in Beijing

Last night after a long time closing up the cafe I relaxed on the couch and turned on the TV at 8:08 pm. It was time for that gathering that does indeed bring the world together--or at least to the same channel--for sixteen days: The Olympics. I knew I could count on the Chinese for a true spectacle, as self-conscious as the government is to impress the world with the venue, and the air quality, so I listened to Matt Lauer and Bob Costas do the play-by-play.

As each of the hundreds of countries marched by in their particular costumes, Lauer would have an anecdote to relate about that faraway place. "Flying into Bhutan's airport, in the Himalayas, was a hairy ride," he said. Costas almost got himself into trouble when the ridiculous outfits being worn by one European nation passed by. "To each his own, " he said, barely concealing the entire viewership's collective mocking of their loud pattered mid-length skirts and silly hats.

But it wasn't this gigantic parade that really made for a memory. It was the show that followed. In China, everything is a little bigger, and this was no exception. First two thousand and eight drummers covered the field, on top of special light boxes that they could uncover and flicker to create a quilt of amazing light from above. Each move they made, as one giant group, was the same, each movement, choreographed through endless practice--it was a breathtaking show of uniformity, each black-haired drummer doing exactly the same thing.

Later the same gigantic center of a stadium holding 91,000 people was covered with Tai Chi masters. Two thousand and eight of them, all doing identical moves in unison, no, robot like unison. As they say in Japan, nobody wants to stand out, perfection is in following exactly the same routine, and boy they had this one down.

It made for great television, this spectacle of identical movements, and at the end of the night, even Matt Lauer, who's done a lot and seen the world, had to admit he was impressed. So far score one big one for China.

There Are Two Railroads Out There: Ours and the One You Imagine

"There are two railroads out there," said Amtrak President Alex Kummant in a Wall St. Journal article today. "There's the one we run every day, and there's the one everybody imagines is out there." Kummant was asked about a topic that I wrote about in the Valley Advocate: really fast trains that easily connect metropolitan areas, like they have in Europe.

In the story, Kummant is said to 'scoff at the idea of European-style high-speed service in the congested Northeast,' because it would require a dedicated corridor. Today's system is shared with CSX freight trains, and in parts the trains have to slow down to a snail-like 30 mph to get through a tunnel near Baltimore.

Despite the Amtrak President's dour outlook on my Euro-rail fantasies, the rail line has seen surging ridership, as much as 33% on the line between San Francisco and Sacramento. In the east, things are crowded, but there's a good hope for more funds to buy more railcars. A bill would authorize $3 billion in borrowing and channel $400 million in gas taxes each year to the railroad. Now that's progress.

Eight-Eight-Oh-Eight. Wow What a Date

I've been thinking about this date for a long time. Today is eight, eight, oh eight. WOW. It's the opening night of the Olympics and at 8:08pm tonight, we'll be watching. It might be a little more difficult because last night while Cindy was on the phone with me, we heard a great pop! and then her TV went dead. It was a storm right on top of Green Lane, and the neighbors across town also had their TV zapped. So we might need to switch sets to see the Opening ceremonies tonight.

I told a few people a story that made me seem very old recently. That was about when my mother and I were in a jewelry store in Hopewell, New Jersey. It was a June morning, and when my mother was writing a check she said, "how about that--six, six, sixty-six." Yeah it makes me seem damn old when I tell a story like this to my cafe workers, none of whom was born before 1984. In some ways I'm proud to be able to recall a story like this, in the mid-sixties.

Age is sometimes a badge I wear with pride, like when I recall what it as like to live in the 1960s during the Vietnam war era. I remember every night on the news they used to have these numbers, they were the dead and injured and then they would have the number of North Vietnamese dead too. The images in Life magazine were the ones that I remember the best, gruesome shots of men with bullet and scrapnel wounds, and of the victims of the My Lai massacre. A long time ago, but it still comes back to me easily.

Red Winged Blackbird in Dennis

We walked for a while a month ago when we visited Cape

Cod for a leisurely weekend. I love those long weekends

with little to do.

Cheese-Eating Surrender Monkey Publishes Advocate Commentary

I had a commentary published in this week's Valley Advocate. Last night as I read various news sites, I thought about how the Rush Limbaugh crowd and others would label me a liberal, cheese-eating surrender monkey for my thoughts about why I think Europe has its priorities better in line than we do. The GOP hates Europe, and especially, the French. The recent Obama tour made them all furious and huffy. Like the 80 percent of Americans with no passport, nor any interest in ever leaving our borders, many Republican leaders are more interested in drilling than conserving. They can't stand the fact that our society is changing to adopt a more green, and yes, more European way of looking at things like transit and health care.

You can read the "Between the Lines" commentary at this link, and I hope you will let me know what you think. The best part of writing a commentary in a newspaper that so many people pick up are the comments from readers. First a man blasted the French, claiming their 'socialist' model is unstainable, and that they don't have enough children and that the US pays to defend them.

Then, another commenter points out that the last two presidents of France were not socialists and that he should stop watching Fox News.

On another note, today we're finally running GoNOMAD Cafe radio ads on WRSI the River. I hope that I get to listen to at least one spot on my way up to Deerfield in the truck. Somehow hearing the ads myself makes me like paying the bills more.

Sharing a Dog Makes Sense--So Does Renting One

Dog sharing was a topic on the front page of yesterday's WSJ. This topic hit me because my mother and my neice have been sharing a dachshund named Pablo for several months now.

Val said it works out very well. They split time in the week about half and half, and when one of them is out of town, the other takes over, removing the expensive need for boarding or dog sitters. Like two divorced parents, my mother always wants more time with her beloved pooch,
but she doesn't grouse.

The Hotel Fairmont's house pooch, Santol, in Quebec City.

My dad compared this arrangement to being a grandparent: you get the fun time to enjoy the pet but you get time off too. He said he thinks this is better than just owning the dog.
There is actually a company called Flexpetz that was launched last year in New York, San Diego and LA. Members pay a $100 monthly fee and pay $45 per day to rent dogs to take home. But critics piled on, and in Boston the City Council passed an ordinance prohibiting the renting of dogs. So for now, the parent company, Asensia, said they were shelving their new idea. Now they'll will let their members adopt their formerly rented dogs.

At some hotels, dogs are available to rent as well. At the Ritz Carlton, in Beaver Creek CO, one yellow lab named Bachelor is booked for dates with guests up to a month in advance. In the Fairmont Hotel in Quebec City, a big black dog named Santol greets guests at the front entrance. Guests can send him emails, and hotel staffers write back 'from the dog's perspective.'

"The Bubble" of Doomed Love in Tel Aviv

We watched a film with a few surprises in it tonight. Again, I get the 'oh Max' groan, after choosing an unknown Netflix film that just happened to contain homosexual sex. Well, I do admit I wanted one scene with these two men in bed to end faster than it did, but "The Bubble" was an emotional film by director Eytan Fox that gripped us to the end.

Set in Tel Aviv, it tells the story of a group of housemates and lovers in today's tense and bomb-filled Israel. Noam is a record store clerk who falls in love with a Palestinian named Ashraf after a chance encounter at a checkpoint. It's a believable love, credible and true despite the terrible things these two peoples do to one another. But that's politics, as another housemate often says when the conversation swerves into this uncomfortable place.

Lulu is the sexy Elaine in this group of Tel Aviv Seinfeldians, who finally relents and lets a cad have his way with her, only to never get called again. She tracks him down at his magazine office with her buds and tells him off. This error causes their illegal friend legal trouble when the lout later shows up at the cafe where he works--he can spot his true identity by the shorts he is wearing. He flees back to the bomb-cratered territories for his sister's wedding.

The group organizes a rave against the war, dropping X and dancing on a beach. When Noam and Lulu cross into the West Bank with fake TV reporter credentials, to try to find Ashraf, he is mistakenly outed with a wayward smooch, peeked in on by Jihad, who is not exactly gay friendly. Later Jihad's wife is shot by Israeli soldiers rampaging through the streets, and voila! another suicide bomber is born.

Life is difficult for these star-crossed lovers. They simply want to be together and find that bustling Tel Aviv, where people need permits to work, and the Jews fear their neighbors will bomb them, makes it awfully hard.

Gauzy Memories of August Feel Like Yesterday

Ahhhh Sunday. Can anyone say there is a better time of the year than early August in New England? I think not. It's an easy day, a few chores in the lawn, a few blogs, a few articles to read, and some errands to run but no rush for anything.

When I was at my parent's house a few weeks ago, spending a Sunday morning having breakfast on the porch, I remembered back to when I was only about five years old, living in this same old house. My parents were out of town and my sisters and I had two babysitters who were staying with us. In the hazy gossamer of decades ago, I still recall how big our lawn felt, a rolling long length of green, and the sensation of just sitting there in the sun, with the cicadas making their buzzing sound in the distance.

Thinking back to what was it, forty-four years ago, yet today when I hear this same sound of the cicadas in the woods, it brings me to that old gauzy memory of sitting in that same lawn surrounded by my sisters and our babysitting couple. It is clear, yet faded, and comes back to me often.

Time is fleeting and cruel, even though we can remember back so far in the past, it doesn't seem like it was four decades ago that I was a blond-headed youngster. My dad once told me that now, when he is old, he still feels like he is still a teenager. I guess that's the way of mankind; we feel young even though our hair is falling out and I have a granddaughter on the way.

The continuum moves on. My daughter Kate and Francisco are expecting a little girl in early 2009, and my aged Uncle and Aunt have moved to South Deerfield to live near their sons. Time pushes on, whether we like it or not, so we might as well listen to the cicadas and make lemonade.

A Toast to Paul Shoul

We went to a party tonight at John and Andrea's in Florence where many familiar faces were seen. I made everyone give a toast to our friend Paul Shoul who is recovering in a Boston hospital. Best wishes Paul, we hope to see you back in Western Mass very soon!

Early August at Tanglewood, the Tuba Gets its Turn

Last night my friend Joe emailed me asking what I was doing Friday night. My one-word answer said it all: Tanglewood. That's all I needed to say, since anyone who has been there on a golden summer evening knows exactly what it's all about.

Cindy and I joined our friends Rick and Susanna who are Tanglexperts, toting their special low table, candles, flowers, appropriate folding chairs and even a $90 corkscrew. Rick and I had fun with that extravagance; it really does do a better job opening a cold bottle of chardonnay than some cheap plastic gizmo. Rick's even got special candle holding stakes, and glasses holders at knee length.

We got there with plenty of time to spread out our picnic and claim a perfect spot right in front of the big screen, with the rolling Berkshires stretching out behind us. The table was set, the Proseco dry Italian sparkling white was poured, and the picnic began in earnest.

Oh, and later that night Joshua Bell

played virtuoso violin. He played "Poéme" from Chausson and "Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso" from Saint-Saens. The gentle songs gave this young (age 40) genius a chance to shine. His playing was magnificent, and a good violinist like this is something to behold.

Tanglewood etiquette demands that after the festive picnicking on the lawn, a series of bells ring. After the third bell, you can hear a pin drop. These oldsters know that nobody clinks a glass nor makes a sound once the symphony plays its first note. The big screen gave us a look at each instrument as it got a turn, the harps, the oboes, the French horns, and later even a tuba got a spotlight. I forgot what that instrument was called, and laughed when Cindy reminded me of that funny name.

When the BSO was all finished, and most of the picnickers had folded their tables and packed away their wineglasses, we took our time, as it was a sultry night and there was no rush. The golden evening had given way to the inky darkness of early August, and all was right with the world.