England Feels Like a Long Lost Cousin

I'm sitting in the dim light of the Lister Arms pub, in Malham, Yorkshire Dales, after a 6-mile hike over hills, dales, stone walls and muddy fields that left Sam and I exhausted but happy. Our guide, MarkReid, literally wrote the books about walking here, he specializes in pub-
-to pub guides that take people to the very heart of this lovely section of Northern England.

With his pointer Elvis champing at the leash, we walked to an amazing geologic edifice called the Cove, which looks like Niagara Falls might look if there was no longer any water flowing over it. A huge rock face, hundreds of feet up, hundreds of feet wide, out in the open fields, and after we clambored to the top, we bopped around on ancient weather and glacier-worn stones that were round on top and looked like they once had water running over them. And they did!

There was an army of photographers way up there near the edge, all setting up tripods to shoot either the incredible 40-mile view, or the falcons which nest on the cliffs. We learned about the eighth century walls, distinctive from the ones that are straighter and built in the middle ages, these are falling down rock piles, and almost zig zag. All over these fields, so many people have tred, so many different histories before us amidst the green grass and the grazing sheep.

I first wanted to come here two years ago when I saw photos that our friends Robbie and Cathie showed us from a trip to Bingley, about 15 miles from where we are tonight. This place is just as wonderful and gorgeous as their photos, and after all of my traveling, visiting England feels like seeing a long-lost cousin. So familiar, so friendly, and such a welcoming place!

The Baker and the Student at Lucy Cooks

Chef Nick Martin shows Sam how it's done during our class at Lucy Cooks, a school where every day students can learn how to cook, bake and generally find their way around a kitchen. Martin's cooked with the best, I asked him about some of the famous chefs like Gordon Ramsay. Is he as over the top mean as he appears on TV? "Worse! he said, "he has these blue eyes, and they just penetrate you, and everyone looks away, and he just keeps on staring."

He gave us some tips, like including the basil stems when you make pesto, since they have the same taste as the leaves and there's no reason to throw them out. He also said that using fresh yeast, that comes in a package almost like butter, but is much softer, is way better than using the stuff that comes in granules.

Today we made pesto bread, olive bread, beer and cheese bread and foccaccia....and it really isn't that hard, we found out, but the results are delicious. This is one time where I think I really will apply what we learned...watch out Cindy, my olive bread will take the place of Bakery Normand!

But Martin warned about bread...once you start it, you can't stop. That makes me think twice before I begin baking for the cafe.

An Evening of British Telly

Last night we watched an evening of British telly. One program was called 'Eggheads' and pitted a panel of gameshow winners against a weekly collection of challengers. Each week another 1000 pounds are added to the prize money....there was already 14,000 in the kitty, showing that challengers have had a hard time beating these panelists, true 'eggheads' that they are. As usual, the challengers lost, the Eggheads triumphed, for a fourteenth week in a row.

Then a reality show. "Embarrassing Teenage Bodies Week," where medical experts travel to a rock concert and solicit teens to come forward to show them what parts of their bodies they are shy about. Ugly tummy fat, pussy tongue piercings, odd blotches, come on down!

Then the ITV news focused on the biggest story in England. Jonathan Ross earned 18 million pounds a year with his on-air partner Russell Brand on BBC 2 radio. Ross was suspended for 12 weeks without pay, and Brand resigned today, as a result of prank phone calls to Fawlty Towers actor Andrew Sachs, who was mocked in a September broadcast.

The BBC's top official also resigned, after more than 27,000 people phoned in to complain about Radio 2's tacky stunt. This story has dominated the airwaves, similar to what happened to Imus two years ago. This story goes on and on, and the Britons we met today said that part of the anger comes from people living with difficult times, and the two become a lightning rod for their anger. He was the highest paid presenter at the BBC, now he's been scorned and humiliated.

North of England: Stunning Scenery, Cute Villages

Johan Hoving in front of Coniston's former copper mill, atop a hill we climbed on mountain bikes.

This part of England is stunning, with rolling hills, distant snowy mountains, and cute villages. The roads are narrow and more than once we stopped and watched in awe as a giant coach or a construction truck squeezed by a car with inches to spare.

Johan told us that the stone fences are made of the remainders of the slate that was used to make roofing tiles...the waste became the miles of mortarless walls that line the roads and separate the fields. If you have to avoid a truck, at least these walls will break open.


Sam and I were like two Michelin Men, bundled up against the cold, but we still managed to tip over and get our shoes soaked.

We had a mountain bike ride left before we were done today.

A Press Trip Triathlon Leaves Us Beat in Coniston

Today we did the Press trip Triathlon, starting out with a hike up a small mountain, then boarding canoes and paddling across Coniston Lake, and finally riding mountain bikes through the woods and up a steep hill.

We did all of this as intermittent showers drenched us, and after tipping a canoe near shore we had very wet feet and pants mid-way through. At one point we had hail pounding down on our waterproof pants and jackets, and it made me love these Britishers who don't ever let weather stop their fun.

Though tiring, it was a good way to get a taste of the typical Lakes Region holiday, and I got a chance to ask Johan, our guide, about life here in the very middle of Great Britain. He said that some of his guests from the US wouldn't do any of these activities in the rain, preferring to sit by a fire for an entire day. "They said it was raining. I said so what," he explained. He also said that Americans seem to drink a whole lot more water than they really need to. This was after we craved water and got hot chocolate instead.

As we climbed up the mountain path, crashing through the brown fallen weeds, he said that in this part of England, tourism and farming are the only really substantial businesses. Once there was a copper mine above the village of Coniston. Utility officials here have installed a hydro-electric system to generate power using the water from the stream that runs green from passing through the copper.

Johan said municipal councils in Britain lost billions last month when the three banks in Iceland went bust. Many had invested reserve funds into these banks, that paid high interest. Today, even charities lost millions of pounds and the two governments are threatening eachother with lawsuits over the issue.

The flow of tourism dollars into Britain's North country hasn't slowed down, since people still want to take a holiday and it's cheaper to come here than to fly to Spain or France. Johan and his wife Emma sold their van a few months ago and now use regular cars and trailers, and lease vans when they have to. Their business, riverdeepmountainhigh, is thriving and he proudly said he owns 50% of his house. The bank owns the other half.

Bowness: A Cute Little Tourist Town on a Big Lake

Rain streaked the windows of our Airbus A330, rain pattered down, a sign of the weather on the ground in Manchester England where we landed this morning. We spent a fair amount of time in the non-EU citizens line where a man with a ponytail was being quizzed by immigration officials as we all waited and waited. He was sat down on a bench like a naughty schoolboy, we were glad we got through with just a lot of questions about where we were staying in the North of England.

Yes, everyone who told us it was cold and wet here was right. Our driver told us it had been raining and even snowed a bit over the weekend. "What advice would you give us, Americans who've never driven here before?"

"Well, I wouldn't be too keen on it, [driving in the US]" he said. "But on the roundabouts, just keep to the left."

We motored up the M6 Motorway, battling jetlag and some confusion over the route. But with some help we found our destination--Laurel Cottage in the town of Bowness-on-Windemere, the England's largest lake. The winding roads looked out over well tended stone-fenced fields, dotted with sheep. It was green and lovely, and the rain stopped, but it was still chilly. I thanked my stars that I was smart enough to pack these silk longjohns, which always successfully keep the cold at bay.

Bowness' streets were packed with families on holiday, men with dogs, and many children licking ice cream cones or sitting in cozy pubs sipping tea. We walked down by the lake, where swans approached elderly citizens who threw them crusts of white bread, and white pigeons sat calmly on a fence just inches away from the people.

Big lake cruise boats took people out on the windy, wavy lake, and at another dock little covered motorboats were available to rent. We hope to get out on one of these little boats before we leave this village.

England's North Awaits Us, Sam and I Depart Tonight

I'm off. Not ready, nervous about what I'm forgetting, but I'm off. I head to Boston to pick up my traveling companion, Samuel Abbott Hartshorne, who will join me this week for a trip to the North of England. As much as I have traveled, I was embarrassed to say that I've never been to England. Well, here we go!

Our trip will take us first to the UK's second city, Manchester, then we'll motor a few hours north near the Yorkshire Dales to Bowness-on-Windemere. We will be taking a cooking lesson, and doing a lot of walking here. As many of you I'm sure have thought, yes, it IS raining in Manchester now, and about 45 degrees. But we have our hoods and plenty of layers, so we should be ok.

Later this week we will go out in canoes, take mountain bike rides, and drive to the lovely Yorkshire Village of Malham. Later we'll see Skipton (I love these names!) and the attractions at the Salford Quays. Then we'll wrap up with a tour of Old Trafford, home of the most famous team in the world, Manchester United.

Follow us and we'll introduce you to plenty of fascinating folks and show you where we went. It's time again to fly, and now, I can't wait!

The Lights Went Out, and the Party Went On

Wow! What a swell party! My fiftieth bash turned out to be one of the best nights of my life. Gathered were, as my pal Joe said, my A list, the people who mean the most to me. At seven o'clock as people began to arrive, suddenly the power went out.

READ PAUL'S BLOG FOR PARTY PIX

So what some people thought was my mood lighting was actually a result of a transformer blowing up and every house on the street was dark as pitch. But we quickly adjusted to the dark, and with candles lighting every corner of the house, the festivities continued.

I had told friends what I wanted....a party with just those A-listers, some good food, and toasts to fete me on this milestone night. Well, I got that in spades, and it was an emotional and touching time that I will never forget. After the accolades, I got up and spoke. I had begun writing something but it seemed better to just speak. I talked about that feeling, how great it felt, and how I'd like to put in a bottle to share when people needed cheering up.

I wanted everyone there to know that for such kindness and for being a friend for so long in my life, that I owed them, and if they needed something, they should ask.

I am so happy now on this sunny Sunday morning to have had such a wonderful time, and to know that everybody felt the same way...that satisfying post-mortem of a party well done.

A Crowded House: What Could Be Better?

My cell jangled and woke me at 6:15 am. It was Maggy with a question about our catering order for this morning. The cafe is making sandwich platters for a group of 55 people who are meeting in Greenfield to discuss the latest in the maple syrup business. We are new to this catering arena, though I spent many years serving drinks as a catering bartender for Nick at the Black Sheep.

It's one of those slippery slopes though, it sounds really good until you're up to your eyeballs in turkey sandwiches and trying to figure out how much roast beef you'll need. The lucre appears good but the costs once again run away quickly, as my sister Jen, a seasoned former caterer would say. This food biz is tantalizing but a fickle mistress, profits elusive, hours long, I've discovered.

We have a full house on Mountain Road tonight, friends and relatives coming in from the South and the west, and I tossed and turned the other night, worrying if it would be too crowded. I came to my senses with the light of dawn, figuring that we all know each other well enough so that we don't need arm's distance, we can snuggle right up.

We will have the smoking porch open and the bonfire going, and old friends like Kent, Lisa, Sony, Don, Johnny Memphis, Shoul, Ed V and Ed B plus my whole family will make it a night to remember!

Acting Decisively, In Spite of the Market

There is now a house for sale, at 9 Mountain Rd. After nearly 20 years, my little pad is up for sale. I want to move to a new and bigger house, a little bit out in the country but still in Deerfield. It's like a daisy chain...these homeowners want to move to another place but they're waiting for their place to sell..and the potential buyers are waiting for their houses to sell to make a move. I'd like to think that I can get a decent price for my place, and move this big logjam ahead.

The new house has nearly everything we'd want in a place. A big yard, a deck, a separate part for me and lots of other rooms. Since I've dithered so many times thinking about moving here, or there, or building this and that and never doing anything...well this time I am acting more decisively.

So in a month or so we might just have a new address. If I can continue to act decisively.

Publicity? Oh, That's Easy

One thing I never get tired of is free publicity. When Cindy sent me the notice in the Republican looking for people who have had experience with home heating oil contracts, of course I jumped in and sent the reporter, Stan Freeman, a link to this blog. I had ragged about it and it was surrendipidously the topic of an article.

When he called me back, I could have just been quoted as a South Deerfield homeowner (or home-moaner, as some of us say) but I put in a little pitch, saying that I owned the cafe. So naturally, when the photog came by I asked them to shoot me there.

So today on Masslive, there I am and as it turned out it was another miracle of timing. The shooter was there the second that Dennis, our mailman, was coming in to pick up the check for the oil company! So we get a nice front page plug, and my mailman gets his name in the paper.

The real fun about Masslive though, is the comments. One guy suggested that 'as a business owner I should have known that it was a contract and not gone running to my lawyer looking for a way out.' Well, my lawyer happened to phone me, and I happened to ask, not really running for him. But I guess he has a point.

If I Could Only Be The Editor...Oh Yeah, I Am!

Today I am working in the cafe on my birthday. It seemed appropriate, and since I couldn't get anyone else to cover, I dove right in. I am thinking more about the post the other day, the one about what I am thankful for now that I've reached this milestone of 50.

The point I left out was the satisfying part of this age. I no longer am trying to figure out what I am doing. I no longer read help wanted ads. I no longer hope that someday I'll be an editor. I have sad memories of my previous jobs; as the paste-up guy who wrote freelance and hoped to someday have an editor's job. Or as the advertising sales guy, who really wanted to write articles and be the editor. Or the salesman, alone in his car, driving around looking for customers, again, wanting to be someone else.

Often Cindy will groan when I tell her one of my old worn-out stories of how I used to sell that guy t-shirts, or how I had to wait so long for that other guy to finally buy from me. Oh God that feels so long ago, and it is so wonderful to never think about who wants to buy from me, and where anyone gets their goddamn t-shirts!

Now every day I do exactly what I was meant to do...and nothing I don't really like. I love coming in to the cafe and to my office, and love the young people I have working for me, and being around my little grandson.

Am I rich? No, not in money. But yes in life, yes!

Seaweed Market is Down, But It's Still a Great Crop

Seaweed is cultivated and sold as a major cash crop in Indonesia, I learned tonight. That's because certain types of seaweed are dried, ground up, and gives up a substance called carageenan, a common ingredient used to thicken many food products. There has been tumult in the seaweed market recently, as the price has dropped from a high of 18,000 rupiah to just 10,000 today. The WSJ had the story on the front page.

Fishermen who have given up making a living fishing are now planting sprigs of seaweed on rope suspended into the coastal ocean and in 45 days, harvesting a catch that is easy to sell, and profitable. It has made life for many poor people much better.

But like many other markets, things go up and down. Now prices are going down and the fishermen/farmers have to rethink things like a trip to Mecca, or a new motorbike. Some have speculated that a Chinese ingredient maker was trying to force his competition to go out of business.

Tomorrow I Turn 50--This Is What I'm Thankful For

Last night as we sat by the fire, my daughter Kate asked me what it was like to be 50. I told her that in some ways it's great...because I feel like I've got a lot to be proud of and a lot that my world has added up to.

Here are some of the things I have to be thankful for.

*The photos in the cafe: a woman in there said they were really good, really evocative. Then a guy in the hardware store commented on the photo in the Bulletin. Having my photos on the wall makes me proud.

*My grandson, my daughter and my son-in-law and my son too, all good people who I am proud of and happy to have in my life My girlfriend who is solidly behind me, full of good advice, cute and supportive and loving and who I enjoy spending Saturday night with.

*My businesses--the Cafe which is staffed by bright young people who are earnestly interested in doing a good job, my website that takes me all over the world and constantly makes me proud.

*My friends who support me, show up at my parties, give me good advice and don't ask to borrow money and are all people whom I am proud to call friends.

*My town which supported and cheered for my tag sale idea, and who congregate in the cafe that I created for just that reason.

Cursed by the Oilman, Stuck at a Terrible Price

I woke up this morning a bit later than usual, and heard the oil burner running. Oh no, it's that time of year when we need to heat up the house with oil since it's less than 30 degrees outside. I am in a quandry about this year's heating costs, and there is nothing I can do about it.

You may recall my breezy blog about meeting my oil man and his 'good news' about lowering our oil price. Well, back in August, thinking that prices may go 'down' to $4.09 a gallon was good news. But now, it feels like a terrible trap. I gassed up the truck yesterday for $2.97 a gallon, yet now I see that I am locked into that 4.09 price for the season. Then I hear that oil is down to a lowly $69 a barrel!

I called up the oil man's son-in-law and asked him if there was any daylight, any relief from the crappy price he'd bought all of his oil for. No, he said, you've guaranteed to pay us that $4.09, and even if it goes to 50 bucks a barrel, that's what he has to pay. Ugh! So now my budget plan is $400 a month and I'm two months behind!

I used to think I'd just pay for it with my company funds, but no, can't do that. Something about the IRS getting hip to all of us business owners who pay for personal stuff with the company dough. So, no breaks, just a painful big ole check.

Last night we made a fire, and it warmed up the whole house. Too bad our stove isn't bigger so that we could have stoked it to run all night and maybe stopped this furnace from coming on at all.

A Tour of Holyoke's Water-powered Mill Buildings

We spent Sunday afternoon in Van Dog land...the industrial area of the lower part of the city of Holyoke. We recently joined a group called Holyoke CRUSH, which seeks to restore, revitalize and appreciate this historic mill city, and the group organized a tour of one of the waterpowered industrial neighborhoods.

I spent five years working on Jackson Street for Eric Suher at E-S Sports, and remember driving among these towering brick mills searching for customers. The area was familiar to me and I've always liked the notion of having a business with 14-foot-high ceilings and amenities like an industrial loading dock. We learned about the progress of the Canal Walk, its first phase beginning next Spring, and about other buildings that the city would like to tear down.

On our walk, on a brisk and windy afternoon, we passed by the former Loomis Mills, now the home to Open Square, a collection of software, web pros, artist studios and industrial storage that has live-in lofts. Outside the building we saw where water from the canals is discharged after turning the turbines inside that generate all the power the big buildings need. John Aubin the owner has recently gotten grant money and has big plans to do a lot more

We passed another dilapidated building that once housed the Holyoke Die Cut Card Company. Apparently this too is now in Eric's portfolio, and some day will be restored and put to good use with residential condos or live-in artists studios.

The city has a lot of potential, everyone says that. When will it become the mecca that we all envision, with the Victory Theater, a completed Canal Walk, and Open Square full of hotels, cafes, and restaurants? Well, let's just keep being optimistic and hope that money finds this gem and that another entrepreneur takes a risk.

The Visitors Bring Joy to a Man Who Rarely Smiles

Walter is an unenthusiastic professor at Connecticut College. He uses the same syllabus year after year, isn't friendly with his students, and barely emotes with colleagues. We met him last night in a wonderful movie recommended to us by Nat and Val called "The Visitor."

Visitors in this film come in various degrees. There are visitors to our homes, like the couple who moved into Walter's New York apartment unbidden, victims of a scam artist named Ivan. Walter discovers the squatters, who are illegal immigrants from Senegal and Syria but instead of kicking them out, he sympathizes, and asks them to stay. They are also visitors to the US, trying to blend in, work, and play music, and also illegal visitors to this apartment.

We watch as the stiff Walter begins to learn how to drum, how to use his palms softly on an African hide-covered drum to create music, tutored by Tarek, the affable Syrian. Walter loves the drums and practices with his new friend, finally smiling after so many years of frowns. When Tarek gets snared by immigration police, Walter's life has new meaning. He meets Tarek's mother, who flies in from Michigan to find out what's going on with her son.

Walter is an unlikely member of a drumming circle, but finds joy in creating music and joy in having these improbable new friends he can have dinner with and who he cares about. Since his wife died, he's lived in an isolated bubble, pretending to be doing important academic work but admitting it's all a joke.

The movie slowly portrays the transformation, of a man with little to live for suddenly being surrounded by people who need him, and the relationship between Walter and Mrs Kahlil progresses. These are good people, not terrorists, and seeing them face the threat of deportation is heartbreaking for Walter and for the viewers. The film shows a side of the 'War on Terror' that we don't have many chances to reflect on...that many good people are swept away when you paint them as evil because of where they came from.

They Come to the Cafe in Escalades...and Priuses Too

We have a new favorite customer at the cafe. She arrived yesterday morning, by shiny, black Cadillac Escalade. She came in wearing an expensive coat that contrasted with her long blond hair, and was followed by her driver/bodyguard, a big burly Indian wearing a bluetooth earpiece and a suit.

We knew why she had visited our little village. Her son goes to Eaglebrook, and our friends over at the Deerfield Inn recommended us when she asked where she could find a good cup of coffee. I told her about how Jane at the Inn told the movie people a few months ago no. They were already booked and despite the Mel Gibson star power, no, they couldn't let the crew have the whole inn and kick out the regulars. She said she lived in London.

She got a kick out of my story about the inn, and I prepared an Indian chai and a double cappuccino for her. The big driver ordered a turkey with cranberry. Just a little while after she got the drinks, she began making for the door, and the big guy ran to catch up. I reached for his sandwich and followed him out, saying ýou forgot this!'

"I had to open the door for her," he said, thanking me for the sandwich.

Mygazines: Good Idea, Too Bad It's Illegal

Mygazines was a cool idea, offering free articles from a huge selection of magazines. How can they do this without getting sued? I wrote about this a few months ago, wondering the same thing. It was an incredible site, offering digital pages that turned and so many articles to read, without that pesky subscription, or newsstand cost.

Well, it was too good to be true. Folio magazine reported today on Romenesko that just weeks after settling lawsuits with dozens of publishers, the site has closed up shop. At one point this site had 127,000 registered stealers, er, members, who eagerly scooped up all of that free content. They tried hard to interest the publishers in being partners, but apparently this note was to no avail:

"In its closing note, Mygazines appeared to be holding out hope for a lifeline: “If you are a publisher interested in understanding more about our model and vision for the future of the publishing industry going forward, or to discuss our Business to Business model opportunities, please email us.”

Joseph Strysko, Bowler, Square Dancer

I often think of what the world will be like when all of the veterans and war heroes die. Our society and the little town I live in are full of these guys, many of whom are still married to the woman they met three or four or even five decades ago.

I read about Joseph Stryszko today. He died at 80, a lifelong Northampton resident. He served in the Korean war, worked at UMass in HVAC for 25 years and bowled. He bowled for 50 years in the Pioneer Bowling League. The book Bowling Alone tried to explain why fewer and fewer of us bowl. We aren't joiners, like Joseph was. I like this guy too because he loved square dancing, and camping. He was a member of the Dancing Shadows Square dancing club.

If you read an obit of a younger man, you won't find references like this. Few of us bowl, or join square dancing clubs, or were married for 56 years until our wives, like Betty Reed did, passed away about ten months ago. I don't know anyone my age who can make statements like these.
We lose a great deal because of this fact. I think guys who spent time in the Army are going to be better citizens than ones who didn't.

I'd love to see some sort of national service put into place, where we demand a little more of those young men and women just getting to adulthood. I read a book once about Brooklyn, and it said that when EMTs and fireman come to put out a fire, the many young men who mill about are dying to be asked to do something. To be put to use, to serve, however briefly, as the fire is fought. They don't know that many men who go to jobs everyday, so they are envious and hoping to be noticed by the firemen.

It would be a good way to harness this vast pool of energy and put it to use to help society. Maybe Obama will have a similar approach.

The Places We Live Bring Tough Lives Closer

Yesterday I stumbled upon one of the coolest things I've seen in a long time on the web. It was a site called "the Places We Live,"by Jonas Bendiksen, an art project that tells the first-person stories of people who live in some of the most crowded and dangerous cities on earth. One by one, lives are described in tiny apartments in the slums of Nairobi, Mumbai, Caracas and Jakarta. The site opens with an ambient soundtrack of a city's noise, bustle and hum.

You open it to find a rundown section of Mumbai, and a quote from the girl walking down this littered street. This is the place I live, she says. "If we tell people about our house, will anyone believe us?" In 2008, for the first time in history, more people will live in cities than the country. Huge photos of slum skylines show where most people live now in the world.

Then I clicked to the section about Kibera, East Africa's largest slum, and the families who live there. Again we hear the sounds of the street, beats of music in passing cars, people talking and walking, people speaking into cellphones, cars passing.

I clicked into the Arori household. The screen pans 360 degrees, showing the tiny room where ten people live. The walls are decorated with newspapers, there is one bed and there is one window. "We squeeze ourselves into this one bed,"says a man. "We pray to god that we are not going to fall prey to disease or be suffocated. I earn less than one dollar per day, but I am happy in my neighborhood here."

I clicked through to another family, this one is Caracas. A young-looking girl said she is the mother of four. And that she never lets the kids go outside, it is too dangerous. They stay inside their tiny apartment all day long. It gets hard, she said, hard to have them in such a small space. But outside there are criminals and so they are afraid.

I felt a pang of sadness when I thought about this book while dropping off my dear grandson Nathan at his preschool. The yard where we live is safe, full of toys and leaves. The school is well lit and airy, and teachers care about each of their charges. Our lives here are so full of plenty and safety and good food....we take it for granted. But when I read about the lives of others just as deserving as us, who suffer and live like prisoners in tiny apartments, it is sad.

Philly's Phamous Phans Get Ratted Out by SMS

I know a guy named Chet who is from Philly, and he is a rapid Eagles fan. It's pronounced 'Iigles,' and he had that famous Philly accent that sounds a little like a Delaware or Maryland accent. I read today in the WSJ about how this city is combatting its famously obnoxious football fans at their new stadium.

The story told how the officials dealt with the problem of opposing team fan assault. They removed the offending non-Eagles fans, that's how. This is the city that's famous for booing Santa Claus. The Vet was so notorious there was even a courtroom on site to prosecute violators!
Now the team has moved into a new $500 million stadium called Lincoln Financial Field. Part of the solution to weeding out fans who have a tendency to assault opposing team fans is to raise the prices. Now it costs nearly $100 to get a cheap seat, which causes even regular fans to sell about half of their tickets to family and friends. Eliminating having the same people attend every game, like they did at the lower-priced Vet, removed the 'mob mentality' that brought out the punches.

Another big difference is the three layer security check gauntlet fans must run through to get in. If an usher thinks an Eagles fan is drunk, he waves another guy over to smell his breath. If yes, they signal for a 'black shirt,' who cheerfully walks the guy to the ticket office for a full refund.

There is also a text message system, so fans can rat out boisterous fans anonymously. "I have 70,000 eyes that can help me," said an Eagles official.

A Man Pedaled by, Alone on a Bike Built For Two

After the cafe closed, I walked the sidewalk and sat for a spell at our outdoor tables. Birds chirped and I savored the crispness of the late fall approaching evening. I sat and scanned the common, and the v of the two streets across the way.

Then a man came out of Graves St., pedalling alone on a bicycle built for two. I'd never seen one of these driven by just one cyclist, it was unnerving seeing that empty seat there. Like the riderless horse, or some sort of circus joke. He pedalled along, then swooped around the common, and then back and into the Cumbie's parking lot. Was he waiting for the other half to arrive? Or did he just need to go to the store and the only bike he could find was this giant long one with seats for two?

On the Cobblestoned Streets of Portland, Memories

Nostalgia rained over me yesterday as I retraced the steps of my callow youth. On our way back from Southport Island we stopped by Portland's Munjoy Hill neighborhood where Kathryn and I lived from 1981-83. I drove around the gentrified area, glistening in the fall sunlight and full of colorful leaves, and tried to remember where we lived. I knew Congress Street and then found Emerson. Yes, that's it. We drove around the one-way street and spied the tiny little house that I remember well. We rented it for $350 a month and I commuted down the hill and over the bridge to South Portland when I ran the Portland Chronicle, the little newspaper I helped start.

The old corner store were we would go for beer and bread had been replaced by a classy brunch joint. And the very top of Munjoy Hill was all taken over by a new huge building that looked like a hospital. We drove down to the Old Port and I saw slices of places I remember, from soooo long ago. A cruise ship had docked at the new Maine Ferry Terminal. A gargantuan boat, docked right at the pier, towering twenty stories up, and cruisers were streaming out and into the city's Old Port.

It was hard to find a parking place amidst the cobblestones, but we found one, right near where there used to be a bar called Squire Morgans where I'd drink for free, on the company tab. Imagine that, having a trade account at a bar and ordering on the company. Boy that was a long time ago. We walked around and down to Commercial Street to the fish market we used to frequent when guests would come up to visit. There was Harbor Fish, with glistening black bass, flounder and delicate sole, iced up and ready. Across the street, in a dilapidated building, was the Porthole Restaurant. Lovely! With a fireplace and the old signs from its former incarnation as Casco Bay Lines ferry terminal, we sat at the bar and ate well.

I loved being in this small city again, and kept thinking about what it would be like if I had stayed. And if I lived here in 2008, and ran my cafe and my website on these cobblestoned streets. Hey, it might have just worked!

The Real Lobstermen in Boothbay Harbor Maine

We plucked five 11-year-old lobsters from big green tanks at this lobster pound in Boothbay Harbor, Maine this morning. News reports say that the prices are too low, less than $3 per pound wholesale, and the lobstermen are suffering because people think of this food as something only for celebrations. And there seem to be fewer celebrations of late.

Nothing Makes Me More Mad Than Traffic Jams

On Friday afternoon when I told my cafe staff that I was heading up to Maine tonight, they looked at me funny. Yeah, why WOULD I plan on driving nearly five hours starting at 6 pm on a Friday night? Well, because that's when we can go, and our dear friends invited us. And I don't like to turn down generous invitations, so we rallied. I drank a big ice coffee, loaded up with sandwiches and chips and we set off.

I rarely get mad. I don't have a bad temper, but there is one time that my blood boils, and that's when I am stuck in traffic. Last night for nearly two hours we inched our way east on the MassPike as inexplicably, it was nearly bumper to bumper with no accidents. Just annoying traffic. I yelled at the traffic, I seethed. We almost tried to bail out, but there was nowhere to go. But when we hit 495 and the sailing began to be smooth, my ire faded and I settled in for the long haul up to Boothbay Harbor.

We reached Kent and Lisa's cute little waterside cottage on Southport Island at about 1 am. Cindy exhausted, fell into bed, and Kent and I stayed up til 2:30 am, ambling over the rocks by the water and sitting out in chairs in the moonlit lawn.

This morning we saw the water rise to fill up the rocks we clambered over and took a drive into East Boothbay, watching schools of whale watchers boarding big boats and Saturday morning tag sailers browsing wares near the harbor.

We stopped at Maine lobster pot complete with concrete floors, rows of tanks, and lobstermen and women bringing in their catches from that morning's fishing. Tonight we'll boil up two apiece, love being here and yes--it was worth the drive!

The Odds n Ends, Ins and Outs of the Business

It's a day in the life....some of the interesting things I did today...

*Negotiated a deal to once again exhibit at the New York Times Travel Show. Had to redo what we promised the show promoters, but all is good and the contract will be signed shortly. Nice to know that once again GoNOMAD will be in the company of American Express and the biggest companies in travel. I am hoping that Kent and I can reprise our presentation and do our travel writing presentation there.

*Negotiated a deal with the folks who sell our ads to take a little bit less of the total owed in exchange for collecting all of the dough the month after we bill. It's complicated but it shows a new trend in on-line advertising: Since people take so long to pay their bills, we accept less to collect nearly all of what's due right away. This will mean better cash flow for the website.

*Welcomed Donna McCartney to our company. She comes very well recommended, and I already love her enthusiasm, spark and energy. She'll come on board tomorrow and I think she's just the glue we need to bind up our slightly unwieldy cafe staff.

* Watched over Joe as he coverted our Google search box into a monetized version, one that has ads that people will click on and pay us revenue. We'd been running a search on our site for years but according to people at the search giant, we were not propertly set up to get paid for any clicks.

*Spoke with my friend Chris at BookingWiz about a new hotel chain in New York who want to join his website and list their properties on his hotel search engine, that is the source of our own hotel search product on GoNOMAD.

What Makes Her Wealthy is Doing Good

Again and again, we read about the terrible calamity and the $7 trillion in asset value that's been lost in the stock market. It's comforting, though to read about how much worse it was in 1929. Karen Blumenthal wrote yesterday in the WSJ about how back then, banks eagerly loaned money to people to buy stock, and when the values plunged, the loans were called in. It was panic and that's why the legend of people jumping off buildings was true. There was no FDIC insurance so nothing could be saved.

Amidst this terrible calamity, unemployment shot up to 25 percent, and there was no unemployment insurance either. Like John McCain said just a few months back, the president at the time Herbert Hoover, declared "the fundamental business of the country...is on a sound and prosperous basis." He'd live to regret those words.

But the most important part of Blumenthal's story came at the end, and had nothing to do with the stock market. It was about what makes her truly rich. She wrote that for more than a decade, she's been going to her local elementary school to tutor. She spends time reading "to children who own no books of their own, whose families can't afford school supplies and who have never been to a dentist. For the price of 45 minutes a week, I return to my desk feeling as wealthy as any one person needs to be."

God bless her for her wisdom and grace.

Palin as President? The GOP Blew It With This Choice

Thomas Friedman summed up the most convincing argument against voting Republican in November in his NY Times column. I'd love to hear Larry and the rest of those who identify as conservatives answer this question. How can they do it?

"How in the world can conservative commentators write with a straight face that this woman should be vice president of the United States? Do these people understand what serious trouble our country is in right now?

Whether or not I agree with John McCain, he is of presidential timber. But putting the country in the position where a total novice like Sarah Palin could be asked to steer us through possibly the most serious economic crisis of our lives is flat out reckless. It is the opposite of conservative.

And please don’t tell me she will hire smart advisers. What happens when her two smartest advisers disagree?

And please also don’t tell me she is an “energy expert.” She is an energy expert exactly the same way the king of Saudi Arabia is an energy expert — by accident of residence. Palin happens to be governor of the Saudi Arabia of America — Alaska — and the only energy expertise she has is the same as the king of Saudi Arabia’s. It’s about how the windfall profits from the oil in their respective kingdoms should be divided between the oil companies and the people.

At least the king of Saudi Arabia, in advocating “drill baby drill,” is serving his country’s interests — by prolonging America’s dependence on oil. My problem with Palin is that she is also serving his country’s interests — by prolonging America’s dependence on oil. That’s not patriotic. Patriotic is offering a plan to build our economy — not by tax cuts or punching more holes in the ground, but by empowering more Americans to work in productive and innovative jobs. If Palin has that kind of a plan, I haven’t heard it. "

Running Out of Solar Panels? Now That's Progress!

I am heartened in these dark monetary times about a few things. First, alternative energy is really, truly becoming mainstream and the politicians are really starting to get it. The tax credits for solar, wind and geothermal are going to be renewed, and when President Obama gets in office, his priorities will be much closer to mine than GWB's. The second is that polls show my guy will most likely win in November.

I read today in the Daily Hampshire Gazette about how the popularity of solar panels is causing a backlog of orders with not enough panels to go around. That's a good problem! A farm in Greenfield had to reduce the size of its new photovoltaic array because they couldn't get enough panels.

There is a company called Evergreen that has opened a 450,000 square-foot factory in a place called Devens. Most of us know this as 'Fort Devens,' because it was once a military base, and now they've dropped the fort and it's an industrial park. Evergreen's German parent company expects to be building a new factory every 12-18 months to keep up with the tremendous demand for solar panels. The market is growing 25-30 percent every year! Evergreen's Chris Lawson said the companies have a backlog of $3 billion in long-term contracts.

Now that's progress.

Diss My Cafe? Óh No You Don't

Getting ready to scoot up to Maine on Friday night, and visit the summer rental Kentski made famous in his article in PreviewMA magazine and GoNOMAD. We'll leave around 5, and travel through the night downeast, to arrive around 10 pm in Boothbay Harbor ME. I love this kind of travel, night driving up to the coast. He'll inevitably have a stack of great new books for me to read, and by golly the place has wireless too.

The cafe roller coaster is slowing, good, because it's wearing me out! Finally feeling that we have a good staff coming together. Today I was happy to give someone an early dismissal after she dissed us in front of a potential new hire. Bad! So we are shedding the deadweight and bringing new life aboard. I'll have to get out of the way and see what happens.

I've sent a few writers on trips that I wanted to take, on account of not wanting to be absent. How quickly people begin to feel like you're never there. Last night a customer told me flat out that "you're not there most of the time, Max, really, you're not." So my continuing presence in the month of October is probably the right move.

I am making big plans for the event at the end of the month when I reach the milestone of 50, stacking firewood and considering Spanish tapas menus. Hotel rooms have been reserved, the fun begins Oct 24.

Old Timer Says Pipelines and Ships Are The Way To Go

Lately people have come into the cafe looking for our copy of the Wall Street Journal. They seem to want to read it more than ever, with the tough times that everyone is talking about on Wall St. Today I found a story about a man who remembers the 1929 Crash, who worked on Wall St. during the depression. His name is Seth Glickenhaus, and he's more worried about the future of business than the stock market.

He told E.S. Browning "We've gotten soft in the United States, politically, economically and in every way. We've had so much prosperity that we can't compete any more. Those days are gone, except in small companies. In things like autos--those days are gone. He was once a big investor in Chrysler, so I'm sure he's lost a bundle.

The big difference Glickenhaus sees between 1929 and today is that back then, Hoover and the treasury secretary Andrew Mellon did the opposite of what Hank Paulson and Bush did. "They believed it wasn't the role of government to get involved. This time the government is moving heaven and earth to reverse the cycle."

Glickenhaus is now 94 years old, and still makes the commute from New Rochelle to his Manhattan office. He said that more and more people are seeking him out, since his experience goes back so far, all the way to the market's near apocalypse. Nowadays, he likes pipeline and energy stocks, and dry bulk carriers, the ships that bring ore, wheat cement and other necessities to China. "I am more pessimistic about business than about the stock market," he said.

Dakota Roads Are Made of Ground Up Computers

People were happy in Deerfield yesterday, so I guess our big plan worked out well. I was sequestered at my little tent at the edge of town, giving out the maps, so I didn't really get to many tag sales, but the streets were full and I got many reports of happy tag sailers following the maps all around town.

Today I got to read the Republican and find out about what else took place yesterday. There was an 'e-cycling' event at the Tri-County fairgrounds, and hundreds of people brought in their old tvs, computers and other electronic junk. Where does all of that stuff go?

"In Colorado and the Dakotas, 20% of the asphalt is made of crushed, ground-up computers. It's ground almost to dust and lasts forever," said Susan Lauermann, of the May Institute. In five hours the team of recyclers got 150 items, charging between $5 and $20 to make them go away.

It's Tag Sale Day in Deerfield: Will Anyone Show Up?

Ok, well now I am nervous. Today's the big day. I've sent out emails to everyone I know, I have talked on WHMP and WHYN, trumpeting this big news, and tried hard to convince Channel 3 in Springfield to put us on their evening news. I was up at 5 and am just about to set up our Deerfield Attractions tent on Elm St.

Now, will anyone actually come?

I've placed a lot on this turning out to be a spectacular event. The bar is high, admittedly, and that's why I was in the cafe at six am helping Maggie open up. We'll be open a full hour earlier to accommodate tag sailing's most well-known fraternity...the Early Birds.

I guess there is no downside to helping organize something that got 67 Deerfield families out in their garages, up in their attics and in the kitchens filling out price tags and dragging stuff to the driveway. I mean they've invested the time, and now I just hope people from far and wide do come to the tag sales. Fingers crossed, I venture out now to set up the tent.

Memories of Maryland Still Entice Ambrosio

There are some tiny bits of good news, you just have to look a little harder. For instance, last night I read in the WSJ that the number of illegal immigrants coming into the US from our southern border is plummeting. Maybe it's because there are so fewer jobs, or that the people who pick up day laborers by the side of the road are picking up fewer of them.

The story told the tale of a Guatemalan named Ambrosio who returned to his native country, giving up a $12 an hour job as a painter in Maryland to return to his native land, where "he lived in a shack with sugar-cane walls, tin roof, earth floor and no refrigerator."

He worked hard, for his employer and on the side, doing landscaping for a nearby estate. "We hired seven Americans who weren't up to the job, then we found Ambrosio. He showed up on time and took his work seriously," said his anonymous employer.

Despite the creature comforts Maryland offered, Ambrosio thinks he's living better back at home in Guatemala, where a truck he brought down from the states offers him a chance to have his own transport business. But the tempation to return still haunts him, like when he phoned up his former anonymous employer. "If I could get the right papers--a visa--I would return," he said.

On Brooklyn's A Line, "Da Genie's Outta da Bottle"

On my way to my last trip, I took a Greyhound bus and then the subway from Times Square all the way out through Brooklyn to Howard Beach. It's a long ride underneath some of the city's worst neighborhoods, passing notorious stops like Van Siclen, New Lots and Euclid Avenues in East New York.

I sat on the subway with my big suitcase across from two loud-talking black guys, who were obviously drunk. They bellowed story after story, guffawing, and falling into eachother with drunken laughter. It was actually quite funny because they were so loud, people sort of avoided sitting near them.

This is what's fun about the subway, these ne're do wells who are funny and who are having such fun with their jokes.

At one stop, an attractive black woman got on wearing an outfit somewhat like what Barbara Eden wore in her famous TV show, with the billowy pants and a sort of harem top. "Genie's outta da bottle," they cried, laughing and pointing. She finally decided to move to the next car.

Conversations in the Cafe

In the cafe today, a well-dressed man in a jacket and a pretty blond wife came in, followed by a youngster wearing a blue blazer. The man strode up the counter with a confident air, and asked if we could make him a poached egg. We told him that we'd do a breakfast sandwich, and that we use eggs from a local farm. "Then I'll take two eggs,"he said.

I could tell that their visit here must have something to do with our famous preparatory schools, Eaglebrook and Bement. Bingo! They were bringing their young'un to check out Eaglebrook. When he spoke, I asked him if he was from London, and he said yes. She was from California. "I was in a movie called Bobby Deerfield, with Al Pacino," he said. "They called it that because the writer was from around here. He couldn't drive so I had to fill in for him"

I looked up the movie, and it was made in 1977. It's about a race car driver who falls in love with a beautiful, terminally ill woman but loves racing more than her.

Later I walked over to their table and told them about the movie being filmed in Deerfield, with Mel Gibson. He knew all about it. He asked me if there were any private airfields nearby. "I'm a push pilot," he said. "Isn't there a small airfield somewhere near here? I answered that the former Pilgrim airfield on River Road was taken over several years ago by Chang Farms. They converted the airstrip into fields for their crops.

His wife said they liked this area, and maybe they'd buy a place here. "Or maybe we can buy that farmland and turn it back into an airfield."

Abandoned North Korean Hotel Lurks on Horizon

I found a fascinating tidbit on the web this morning, since I got up very early. It was about abandoned cities, and in the story I read about the Ryugyong Hotel, a 105-story hotel shaped like a mountain that is abandoned in North Korea's capital city of Pyongyang.

The building, started in 1987, was constructed of poor quality concrete, and so it has begun sagging, and never got close to being finished. Before it was done, it was placed on Korean maps but now it is an embarassment and no one talks about it any more. When it was built, Asia was exploding with new high rises, and higher and higher towers in Taiwan, Singapore and Kuala Lumpur. So the North Koreans decided to build a five-star hotel, with seven revolving restaurants and 3000 rooms.

Now the hulk of this hotel, with no windows or interior finishing, towers over the city, mocking the citizens of North Korea. Esquire magazine called it 'The worst building in the history of mankind." Today photos of Pyongyang are airbrushed to take this giant spike shape out.

In more recent news, an Egyption company has begun working on the top floors of the massive white elephant, installing cellphone towers for the small number of party officials who will be getting mobile phones soon.