Maine’s next governor. Your choice?

camplogo3On Monday, we will hit the 100-day mark in the countdown to the November 4 election, when Maine voters will choose one of three candidates to be the state’s next governor.

So, for the next four days, I am asking you, your friends, neighbors and co-workers to participate in an online survey about who should be Maine’s next governor.

I will make every effort to limit voting, but I ask that you also exercise some honor. That said, I make no bones about the following: This is NOT a controlled, professional poll and the results should not be construed as such.

This is simply an online self-selected survey — yet another snapshot; a quick glimpse of the electorate’s mood on the eve of what promises to be a rigorous 100 days of fierce campaigning.

Thanks for participating!

 

 

 

 

 

The boys of summer

canvassI remember it well.  It was the summer of 1985.

I was 21 years old and working for the Maine Peoples Alliance, a progressive, citizens action organization that was then working to raise public awareness about a proposed Community Right-To-Know law that would require small and large companies to publicly disclose to their neighbors what types of hazardous chemicals they were using.

That didn’t matter much to me. What mattered was that I needed a job, and the gig paid $240 per week.

I was hired as a field canvasser. Basically, my job was to go door-to-door in targeted communities and try to raise at least $90/night (quota)  in order to support the financing of our good deeds.

Each day, around 2:30 in the afternoon, me and roughly nine other young and eager do-gooders convened at the MPA’s Portland office to go over our assignments for the evening. Then, we all piled into a Chevy Suburban and were driven to a selected community, where we would receive our individual “turf” assignments.

It was not a bad job for college kids in the summer. The weather was generally cooperative, and the communities were generally the more affluent type.

Before hitting the bricks, we generally were dropped at a local “house of pizza” to gain some nourishment and play epic games of hacky-sack while the canvass director scouted turfs.

Armed with only clipboards, our award-winning smiles and enthusiasm,  we were each set loose in our respective turf to begin hitting every house on the block for signatures on our petition and a pitch to donate.

Sure, I had a lot of doors slammed in my face, but  I could also tell you more funny stories about canvassing than what you would want to hear.

Know this, however: I hit or exceeded my $90 quota every night.

I also fell madly in love with a co-worker. It was an awesome summer, but she broke my heart on the same weekend that Hurricane Gloria hit Maine. I remember it well.

Hurricane Gloria’s damage could not compare to the damage done to my then bleeding, anti-corporate, progressive heart.

Go ahead, blame her for making me a Republican. She was an art student.

Go figure.

And these children that you spit on . . .

Flash forward almost 30 years to Monday night.

Laura and I just returned home after walking the dogs, and we spotted a canvasser at our neighbor’s house.

Laura ducked in the house quickly. She avoids confrontation.

The canvasser spotted me and sized me up as he began walking toward our driveway.

“Can I help you,” I asked, deadly curious about who he was and who he was working for.

I thought about that art student from three decades before. I thought about all the doors slammed in my face. I thought about all the funny stories I accumulated that long ago summer.

This kid . . . this snot-nosed punk . . .  had no idea what was in store for him.

“I’m looking for Laura or Timothy.” he said, glancing at his smartphone.

We never had smartphones.

“Laura is my wife and Tim is my son,” I told him. “Can I help you with something,” I repeated, wondering why he didn’t want to speak with me.

Maybe it was because we were his last house for the evening, or maybe he was just being polite. “Sure, I can talk to you,” he replied, glancing again at his smartphone and instantly pulling up my real first name. (Hint: It’s not Randy, Randall or Randolph)

He asked who I was planning to vote for in Maine’s upcoming gubernatorial election. I gave my answer, and his response was flat. This kid must be a good poker player.

By now, Laura has emerged from the house, and I told the canvasser to ask her the same question. Unlike me, there was no hesitation in Laura’s voice. Her answer was clear and purposeful: Republican Paul LePage had earned her vote, she said.

Trying to mess with his head, I muttered something about Eliot Cutler.

That remark got Laura fired up. “Are you kidding me?” she asked incredulously. The canvasser seemed to be enjoying himself.

So, the three of us spent the next 15 minutes or so talking politics, including Laura setting him straight on the issue of fraud investigators, right there on my front lawn.

This kid was working for the Maine Democratic Party, but he seemed more interested in genuinely hearing our concerns and frustrations than he did about trying to sway our opinions.

He came across as smart, polite and respectful. He held his ground perfectly. He was a good ambassador for his party.

Eventually, his ride arrived and we bid adieu to our new friend.

As I closed the front door, I began to wonder why we usually can’t debate politics with such civility on social media outlets.

The worlds of communication and political strategy are rapidly changing, but Monday’s experience reminded me that there is still tremendous value in knocking on doors and having face-to-face conversations.

 

 

Talking in your sleep

Angry-Computer-GuyOftentimes, it’s not so much what you say but rather how you say it.

It’s an important lesson for all of us, but especially important for those who aspire to be our leaders. Think: “Social Security is Welfare

Earlier today, I was interviewed for a locally produced talk show in my community. I was pitched for this idea several weeks ago, and my first instinct was to decline the invitation. But the host was persistent, and he wanted to talk about a subject near and dear to my heart: strategic communication.

As I prepared for the 25-minute taping, I paused to think about some words that I routinely take for granted.  After all, I am a strategic communications consultant; my job makes sense to me but I wondered if it made sense to anyone else.

stra-te-gic \strƏ-tē-jik\ adj 1. of, relating to, or marked by strategy. 2. necessary to or important in the initiation, conduct or completion of a strategic plan.

com-mu-ni-ca-tions\ kә-myὕ-nә-kā-shәns\ n. 1. an act or instance of transmitting; 2. process by which information is exchanged between individuals.

con-sul-tant \kәn-sәlt-nt\ n. 1. one who gives professional advice or services: expert

Thinking more deeply about those words led me to a basic conclusion: Despite the rapid and sometimes overwhelming advance of technology, the basic fundamentals of good communication skills haven’t changed much.

In fact, I quickly recalled a lesson that my late uncle drilled into my head during my teenage years: God gave you two ears and one mouth. Use them proportionately.

Human beings have always had the need and desire to communicate. Our ancestors used hieroglyphics (an earlier version of SnapChat) before sharing stories around campfires and passing those tales and lessons from one generation to the next. From there, we moved on to the invention of the printing press, the telegraph, telephone, television  – - all the way into our brave new world of Pinterest, Facebook and Twitter.

But as the speed of our communication increases exponentially, it becomes increasingly important to remember my uncle’s Golden Rule of Communication: take the time to listen and think before you speak, post or tweet.

If you want to learn a little bit more about my professional life (how I feed my family): check out this relatively short video clip.

In the meantime, remember that social media tools are power tools and require caution and a firm understanding of the consequences of making one wrong move that can happen in an instant without warning.

As always, I encourage your feedback. You can contact me by clicking this link.

 

 

 

 

Back to the future

image022There is no denying  a new energy in the city of Biddeford.

This looming sense of optimism and a sense of renewed vibrancy in the city’s downtown core is visible to visitors and residents alike.

Sadly, however, despite the abundance of new energy pouring into the city,  an iconic fixture of Biddeford’s past glory sits on the ground, rotting into oblivion.

It is a timepiece that no longer keeps time. Instead, what remains of the Lincoln Mill Clock Tower is running out of time.

How the clock tower ended up on the ground is a complicated story that I detailed previously.

But the good news?

Thanks to a dedicated group of Biddeford High School students, there is a renewed interest in preserving and restoring this iconic piece of Biddeford’s history.

Check out their video:

To make this happen it will only cost $5.

That’s right: just five bucks, so long as every resident of the city would kick in $5 (the cost of an extra-large coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts)

CLICK HERE TO DONATE

Just imagine; for only $5 you can play a role in history. If you choose to ignore this opportunity, just remember that once it is gone, it is gone forever.

Dou you throw away or discard old family photos? Of course not, because we save what we value.

If this latest fundraising effort falls short, what remains of the clock tower will be demolished.

Imagine burning a family scrapbook.

We save what we value.  Play a part in history. Show the world what Biddeford Pride means.

Please visit this link to make your $5 donation (or more) today. Because time is running out.

Side note:

For decades, Paul MacDonald of Saco made a weekly climb every Sunday into the belfry of the Lincoln Mill Clock Tower to set and maintain its clock work gears.

Paul’s son, Fred, recently shared some photos of the now missing clock works with me, and I’m sharing those photos with you here.

 

Cold as ice

ECThere are advantages to being independent, but there are also some big disadvantages.

If you don’t believe me, just ask Ted O’Meara, campaign manager for gubernatorial hopeful Eliot Cutler.

In an e-mail to Cutler’s supporters this week, O’Meara praised his team’s hard work and their ability to collect more than 5,000 signatures to ensure that Cutler will be on the November ballot.

But O’Meara also took a swipe at Maine’s political parties, pointing out that campaign rules discourage independent candidates from seeking office.

“Our work was made more challenging by the fact that Independents like Eliot have to collect 4,000 signatures, while the party candidates only have to collect 2,000,” O’Meara wrote. “It’s just the reverse when it comes to fundraising; Eliot can collect only half as much per contributor as the party candidates. 

“That’s right: twice the signatures, half the money. Guess who wrote the rules?”

O’Meara goes on to say that “self-serving election laws are the only thing the parties can agree on these days.”

It should be noted that O’Meara was more than happy to be a member of a major political party in the not-too-distant past.

In fact, O’Meara was once the chair of the Maine Republican Party and served as a staffer for both Senator William Cohen and Senator Olympia Snowe.

But his point about party control of Maine politics is valid.

In fact, members of both major parties ought to seriously ponder why an ever-increasing number of Americans are registered as unenrolled voters.

Being “independent” is gaining traction all across the nation, and that spells big problems for the big parties, especially when it comes to fundraising from a smaller pool of voters.

Although the party faithful generally point out that their candidates must endure the expense of grueling primaries, that’s just not the case this year.

Both Democrat Mike Michuad and Republican Paul LePage are unopposed for their respective party’s nomination.

Regardless of whether you support Cutler, we should level the playing field for all candidates. Let’s be independent together!

 

Your Prediction?

Ryan Fecteau

Ryan Fecteau

Which candidate do you think will win the Democratic Party’s nomination for Biddeford’s Dist. 11 Maine House seat?

David Flood

David Flood

Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong (Redux)

Joanne Twomey

Joanne Twomey

This is a story about a bitter, cake-baked politician, a police chief and a little, pink bicycle.

During the most recent Biddeford City Council meeting, former Mayor Joanne Twomey, was once again full of rage and fury.

As she does during most public meetings, she nearly tripped over herself as she stormed toward the podium to rant and pontificate before the council for the televised portion of the meeting.

Twomey uses rage and victimization like most people use deodorant. It is predictable, boorish and sometimes entertaining.

But her tirades of rage and indignation are rarely, if ever, based on logic or fact.

This week, Twomey’s tirade was about “a little pink bicycle” that she says was recklessly tossed into the metal recycling bin at the city’s public works facility by callous members of the Biddeford Police Department.

Twomey, who has lost her last three bids for public office, told the council (and those watching the meeting on television) that she had gone to public works to dispose of some grass clippings, when she witnessed the horror of a massive bicycle dumping in the metal recycling bin.

“They dumped 25 to 30 bicycles in there,” Twomey breathlessly proclaimed. “Bicycles!”

By her own admission, Twomey told the council that “I screamed and caused a scene.” (It’s what she does best)

Twomey said she asked the police officers why they didn’t give the bicycles to “the bicycle guy,” referring to Andy Grief, executive director of the non-profit Community Bicycle Center

“Is this a sense of community?” Twomey bellowed, ready to burst with indignation.

Twomey said she tried to alert the Community Bike Center about the atrocity, but staff was out for lunch. So, what did she do?

Make an inquiry at the police department? Nah.

Instead, she went home to fetch her Canon digital camera “because you have to document everything in this city.”

“I took pictures, and I put in on my Facebook,” Twomey told the council. (Editor’s note, we were unable to find photos of discarded bicycles on Twomey’s Facebook page)

Nonetheless, Twomey says reaction to the photos was overwhelming. “Where is our sense of community?” she asked again. “There was a little pink bike that could be used by some little girl.”

In summary, Twomey said the callous officers who dumped the bikes should be fired.

The rest of the story

Chief Roger Beaupre: Journal Tribune photo

Chief Roger Beaupre: Journal Tribune photo

Biddeford Police Chief Roger Beaupre was watching the May 20 city council meeting from the comfort of his home. After hearing Twomey’s comments, Beuapre decided the council should hear — as Paul Harvey would say — the rest of the story.

Beaupre’s e-mail to the city council appears below, and it offers some revealing insight about both the incident and Twomey’s tendency to shoot first and ask questions later.

HERE ARE THE FACTS:

We routinely and regularly pick up and store bicycles that are left abandoned on the street. In some instances, these bicycles are turned in by people who have discovered bicycles that have been abandoned on their property. The department’s Evidence Technician/Property Manager, then places a property tag on each of these bicycles, logging and recording the description and serial numbers into our records management system.

They are then taken to DPW and stored in one of our property containers. All bikes are hung from the ceiling in a neat and orderly manner. We are required by state law to keep these bikes for not less than 5 months, and if after that amount of time the bikes are unclaimed, we can dispose of them.

Prior to 2003, state law required that we auction these unclaimed bikes and return the proceeds of the sale to the Treasurer of State, less our cost of storage and auction. In 2003, the State Legislature changed the law to read: “…a local legislative body in a municipality may dispose of unclaimed bicycles in a manner decided by that body…” (25 M.R.S.A. 3503-B).

Now then, here is what we do AFTER six months of retaining the bikes. In our “Sense of Community” we have partnered with Andy Grief from the Community Bike Center, and all of our serviceable bikes are given to that center. Process is that at the end of six months, either Andy Grief himself, or one of his staff, accompanies the BPD Property Manager to the storage trailer at DPW. The Community Bike Center representative then inspects each and every bike that is eligible to be released.

With a magic maker he places a large “R” on those bikes he deems unserviceable and does not see as safe to place on the street. Cracked frame is usually the typical problem, or any other problem that they deem not worth repairing. After the representative claims the bikes he does want, our Property Manager selects a convenient time to collect the bikes that are destined for recycling and disposes of them in the metal bin at DPW.

On the day that Mrs. Twomey happened to bring her brush to DPW, a Public Works employee was helping our Evidence Technician unload the bikes from our Crime Van and place them into the recycling bin. I stress Public Works employee, because I want to make sure it is clear that there were NOT two police officers at the Recycling Center.

I don’t believe that I have to tell you of the city’s liability if someone gets hurt using a bicycle that the Community Bike Center has deemed unfit.

That pink bicycle that Mrs. Twomey so fondly referred to last night was deemed unfit by someone who knows whether or not a bike is safe to ride.

In closing, the system we have been using for about a decade now, keeps our unclaimed bike inventory down, and returns serviceable bicycles to the community to those who can’t afford to buy one. How is that for our “Sense of the Community?”  And for her to state that the police officers should be “fired” is unfair and biased.