Congratulations to my youngest son who is turning 18.
I think Alice Cooper sums it up best, so enjoy the video and see this boy grow into a man.
Happy birthday, Matthew!
Author: Randy Seaver
Randy Seaver is a veteran journalist who has been covering news and politics in the city of Biddeford, Maine for nearly three decades. He may be contacted at randy@randyseaver.com
When things go right
Regular readers of this blog know that I believe strongly in the power of social media.
Social media has been used to topple governments, connect people globally around a common cause and to highlight awareness of issues that may otherwise go unnoticed.
You can also use the awesome power of social media to put pressure on companies or businesses that fail to deliver on their promises.
But today, I want to highlight a company that responded to the pressure of social media in a productive and meaningful way.
Some of you may recall that I was fairly harsh with American Airlines regarding the treatment I received on a March 21 flight from West Palm Beach to Portland, Maine. You can read all the gory details here: Automatic For The People.
I used Facebook and Twitter to express my dissatisfaction with the airline. I waged a relentless battle while the airline repeatedly asked for my patience. It took nearly two months to get a response.
That said, the response I received was meaningful and sincere. The airline explained why the situation happened, detailed the corrective steps that they were taking and agreed with me that they had short-changed me on my compensation for an over-booked flight. It was a lengthy and detailed response. It showed empathy and reinforced the airline’s commitment to customer service.
Since I was particularly tough on the airline, I thought I should share their response publicly. The text of their e-mail is posted below: (Personal information has been redacted)
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May 14, 2015
Dear Mr. Seaver:
I’m sorry you weren’t able to board your scheduled flight to Portland and I understand your frustration. You have every right to expect to be boarded on the flights you have reserved. As you may know, airlines overbook to help plan for customers who are re-booked at the last minute or do not show up for their flights. An empty seat on a flight means a loss of revenue, which in turn means higher ticket prices. I realize this explanation doesn’t change what happened, but I wanted to let you know some of the reasoning behind this process.
At American Airlines we are committed to providing a truly enjoyable travel experience, and a warm, courteous attitude on the part of our employees is the key. That is why your email is so disheartening. We did not afford you with friendly customer service at the gate and the Passenger Assistance Counter, and we apologize. Your comments are important and serve as a significant tool in helping to maintain our standards of excellence. I have shared your feedback with the Philadelphia Station Manager to be addressed directly with the personnel on duty at these positions.
Per our Customer Service Plan and in accordance with the regulations of the US Department of Transportation, when a passenger has been subjected to involuntary denied boarding on a domestic flight, the passenger is entitled to one of the following forms of compensation:
* If the passenger’s arrival at his or her final destination is greater than one hour but less than two hours past their original scheduled arrival, involuntary compensation is 200 percent of the sum of the values of the remaining flight coupons of the ticket to the next stopover, but not to exceed $650.
* If the passenger’s arrival at their final destination is two hours or more past their original scheduled arrival, involuntary compensation is 400 percent of the sum of the values of the remaining flight coupons of the ticket to the next stopover, but not to exceed $1300.
Based on the circumstances surrounding your flight, you should have received a check for $[redacted], and we apologize that the check you were given did not meet this amount. I have issued an additional check for $[redacted], the difference between the correct value and what you received at the airport.
Mr. Seaver, I truly appreciate the time you took to share your experience with us. It is always our pleasure to have an opportunity to serve you and hope you will look to the new American Airlines for your future travel needs.
Sincerely,
[Redacted]
******************
We all screw up sometimes, but it is heartening to know that simply acknowledging your mistakes and taking corrective actions can restore faith and trust in your relationships, whether they are personal or professional.
Kudos to American Airlines for stepping up to do the right thing.
Ship of fools
There’s a right way and a wrong way to handle social media, and in the city of Biddeford, orange can now step aside because Facebook is the new black.
Biddeford’s political machinations have always been colorful and somewhat interesting.
But lately, our city’s colorful political landscape has gone from an interesting mix of pastels to a nightmarish blend of bright acrylics that looks like something from a Van Gogh nightmare.
Just four hours after Mayor Alan Casavant announced on Facebook that he will be seeking a third term, an anonymous Facebook identity popped up and started sending out “friend” requests.
“Joe Biddeford” says he (she?) wants to keep his/her identity anonymous “to keep trolls from attacking me as opposed to contributing to the important dialogue on local issues.”
Since I routinely blog about Biddeford politics and often play in political circles, I was curious about what this “dialogue” would be. So I sent Joe a friend request. As of this writing, Joe has not accepted my request. I am heartbroken by this.
Many of my friends have received friend requests from Joe Biddeford, but not me.
Joe Biddeford’s Facebook page is public, and last I checked he had 10 friends. Wow! 10 friends.
But wait, it gets better. Only two people have posted anything on Joe Biddeford’s Facebook timeline. One of them is my friend Fred Staples, a former city councilor who has 407 Facebook friends.
The other person is Paul Pelletier, a familiar enough surname in a community with a Franco heritage.
But get this: Paul Pelletier has zero Facebook friends. Zip. Zero. Nada.
Paul Pelletier seems to be a ghost raised from the dead just a few weeks ago, according to his/her Facebook profile, which is also public. Unlike Joe Biddeford, “Paul” says he/she does not want friends. (All the makings of a sociopath)
In the “About” section of his Facebook page, “Paul” dazzles us with this brilliance: “I don’t wish to share information over Facebook. I use it for informational purposes and to engage in political conversations.”
Someone needs to tell Paul that he should not be on Facebook if he doesn’t want to share information on Facebook.
He says he uses Facebook for “informational purposes.” That’s generally what all stalkers say.
“Gee, officer, I know I followed her through the mall and into the parking lot, but I was just gathering information about shopping trends.”
I’ve got some news for “Joe Biddeford” and “Paul Pelletier:” There are several places where you can go to engage in social media conversations about Biddeford or its politics.
On Facebook, there is Biddeford Today, a page that features news about the city and profiles of its residents. There is a nostalgia page called You Know You’re From Biddeford If . . . There is a Facebook Page for the for the city’s dog park, and even this blog has its own Facebook page.
Heck, once upon a time there were two other blogs about Biddeford Politics: Game Over: The Premier Blog of Biddeford; and “Biddeford’s Best Blog: B3. Both of those blogs (critical of Mayor Casavant) went radio silent shortly after Casavant won his last election in 2013.
The point is: there are plenty of places to go on the internet to talk with Biddeford residents.
The power of the internet
Let’s face it, the internet is an extremely powerful tool that enables instant, global communication. And social media has been used to topple governments, win presidential elections and showcase cute kitten videos.
Sometimes, if you use it properly, social media can bring attention to things that might otherwise go ignored. Social media can be used for noble purposes (crowd funding) and for bad purposes (child pornography).
If you want to be “social” on the internet, social media outlets are a great place to start. It’s also a great place to stop because an increasing number of people are reporting being addicted to social media.
Sometimes, the best way to be social is to turn off your computer, pick up your phone and call a real friend. Go for a walk, have a cup of coffee. You don’t have to be anonymous or play silly little games.
If you really need to connect, try stepping away from the keyboard and breathe some fresh air.
[Edited: “Joe Biddeford” accepted my friend request. Yippee! Now I can finally take part in the “important dialogue about local issues.”]
Dime Store Mystery
Moments after learning that she had been ousted from the mayor’s seat, Joanne Twomey declared that the citizens of Biddeford “don’t deserve me.”
She was right.
We deserve better.
In my last newspaper column, published in December 2005, I tried to explain what motivated that column for so many years.
“Political bullies are very much like their school-yard counterparts. They’re just not as clever, and they often cloak themselves in robes of self-described nobility and purpose,” I wrote.
Many people have described Maine Governor Paul LePage as a political bully.
Regardless of your feelings about the governor, what happened this week during one of his “town hall” events was an embarrassment to an entire community.
I suppose it would be easy to understand Ms. Twomey’s irrational outburst — which included lobbing a jar of Vaseline at the governor — if this were a one-time event: a tipping point of rage and resentment triggered by emotion.
But that’s not what it was.
Instead it was just one more incident in a long line of emotional outbursts from Ms. Twomey, a woman who loves creating controversy, grabbing headlines and listening to herself roar with self-righteous indignation.
Twomey has a long history of creating scenes. These outbursts serve no other purpose than to draw attention to Ms. Twomey.
If you listen to her speak, no one cares more than she does for the poor and afflicted, but don’t expect to see her volunteering at a soup kitchen or nursing home. Generally speaking, there are no TV cameras at such places.
Some people have applauded Twomey’s latest tirade. They say the governor got what was coming to him.
But what would they say about her angry outbursts that were directed at other governors, including Democrat John Baldacci and Independent Angus King?
It’s not about politics; it’s about Joanne Twomey and her rage du jour.
In the early 1990s, Twomey was removed by police from City Hall, following another hissy fit, when once again her rage trumped manners and decorum.
As a state representative, she cried on the House floor when she did not get her way. She is a professional victim and the consummate hypocrite.
And her only real accomplishment is tarnishing the image and reputation of my hometown, which is now undergoing a transformative renaissance.
Since Twomey was ousted from office, the city of Biddeford has closed MERC, a controversial trash incinerator. Since Twomey was ousted from office, the city has attracted millions of dollars in new investment, started a curbside recycling program and has seen dozens of new small businesses open in the downtown area, and worked with the neighboring town of Saco to create the River Walk.
But Twomey’s tirade gets far more media attention. Following Thursday’s incident, social media, radio stations and television crews have repeatedly linked Biddeford to Twomey. “The city twice elected her as mayor,” they say.
They don’t bother to mention that she has lost her last three elections. Finally, the people of Biddeford see through her charade of indignation.
Over the last few years, many of our residents have poured blood, sweat and tears into revitalizing Biddeford.
Twomey’s contribution to that effort? Zip. Zero. Nada.
So once again, my community becomes a laughing-stock, a portrait of dysfunctional government, despite all the progress made over the last few years.
Twomey will tell you that she is principled and fighting the good fight on the side of the angels. But let’s look at her track record.
1.) The woman who once bemoaned the idea of a casino in Biddeford — testifying before the Biddeford City Council in 2003 by saying — “In my Christmas village, there is no casino,” suddenly flipped when she got herself into a budget pinch, and she quickly became a cheerleader for a proposed casino. Principled? Really?
2.) The woman who built her political career on the backs of criticizing the owners of the MERC facility was giving them hugs in front of news cameras just two weeks before the 2009 mayoral election.
Just a few weeks later, after winning re-election as mayor, Twomey once again reversed her position. Principled? Really?
3.) During Biddeford’s Democratic caucus in 2012, Twomey said the city needed a “real Democrat” in Augusta, failing to mention that she encouraged Democrat State Rep. Paulette Beaudoin to run for her former legislative seat.
For such a principled person who professes to believe in the people, Twomey does not hesitate to play political hardball, but her victim routine is wearing thin.
Last year, Twomey huffed and puffed before the Biddeford City Council, accusing the city’s police department of discarding perfectly good bicycles that could be given to disadvantaged children.
It was later discovered that those bicycles were deemed beyond repair by the non-profit Community Bicycle Center.
Did Twomey apologize. Nope. Apologizing is not in her DNA.
In summary, Joanne Twomey has become everything she once despised: a petty, vindictive politician who keeps an enemies list.
But she was right about one thing: Biddeford does not deserve her.
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PS: Here’s what syndicated columnist and radio talk show host Howie Carr had to say about Thursday’s incident: (At 12:50, he gives a hat-tip to this blog)
When All Else Fails
Who do you turn to when all else fails? Who has your back? Who’s got your six?
It occurs to me that I have been blogging here for a little more than three years. We have covered a lot of topics, from politics to my ongoing struggles with a mental illness. I have posted humorous things and somber things. I have posted Pro Tips for aspiring candidates and explored my hometown’s recent economic revival. I have written about solid waste and about the effects of herring on lobsters.
That’s a pretty diverse list of subject matter, don’t you think?
But it also occurs to me that there in one subject that is too often left in the shadows.
Sure, I talk about my wife on these pages, but it’s usually as a passing reference point or to highlight her battle against multiple sclerosis as a fundraising tool for the annual MS Walk in York County.
But today, for a few different reasons, I want to talk more publicly about the woman who changed my life. The woman who is my best friend and my strongest ally.
When I first met Laura, she was running for a seat on the Old Orchard Beach School Board. I was the editor of the local newspaper, and thus I offered my readers endorsements of candidates. I did not endorse Laura. I mistakenly thought she was running for a seat held by an accomplished incumbent.
Laura sent me an e-mail just a couple of days after my endorsements were published. She pointed out the mistake, which I did not take so well.
For whatever reasons, we continued an e-mail exchange that was almost instantly flirtatious. She did not win her election, and we had our first date a few days later – – on a cold November afternoon that I will never forget.
I was smitten, but I was also impressed by her strength and courage. She was a single mother, raising two boys without any support from their father. She worked long hours in one of the most stressful jobs you can imagine: a social worker for the Maine Department of Health and Human Services in the office of Child and Family Services.
She bought her own modest home about a year before she met me. We dated several weeks before she would let me meet her children.
![268334_1896380292475_1330632899_31681248_3529053_n[1]](https://randyseaver.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/268334_1896380292475_1330632899_31681248_3529053_n1.jpg)
She is an awesome mother who would take her young boys frog hunting in the spring. She has gone skydiving and has never met a rollercoaster she did not like. Unlike me, she is a risk taker, always ready for the next adventure.
She is spontaneous and her laugh is more like a howl that consumes her entire body. She’s not into nouveaux cuisine or the latest fashion trends. Her favorite band is whatever is playing on the radio at that time.
She is mischievous and endearing. She is a voracious reader who loves animals (and owns too many, in my opinion).
She is down-to-earth and wears her heart on her sleeve. There is no pretense with Laura. What you see is what you get.
She is the consummate professional and has a hard time separating her emotions from the strain of her job. She loves the kids she works with almost as much as she loves her own.
She knows a thing or two about friendships. If you become friends with Laura, it is a life-long affair. She and her best friend have known each other since their freshman year in high school.
Laura is generous to a fault. She always wants to help, to give to others, to make others smile and feel loved.
Her chocolate cheesecake is world-famous (or soon will be).
She volunteers in the community and gets involved with causes left and right. She currently serves on the City Council’s Policy Committee and served two terms on the local school board. In her first election, she got more votes than any other candidate on the ballots, including the mayor and at-large city councilors.
Laura snores and will sometimes leave wet towels on the floor; so I suppose she is not perfect.
But here’s what I do know: she is an amazing wife. She is my primary caregiver, a trusted confidant and someone who will fight tooth and nail on my behalf.
I often wondered why she married me. It wasn’t money. I had none. It was not for my good looks. I am bald and overweight.
I suppose it doesn’t matter why she married me. What does matter, however, is that she married me.
So, when all else fails, I have something pretty special in my corner. And for that – – I am eternally grateful.
A short video montage:
No woman, no cry in Biddeford
Critics of the Republican Party often say the GOP is the party of old, white men: a diminishing demographic in a nation with increasing diversity.
Although I am hesitant to generalize the Republican Party, I can say with confidence that the Biddeford City Council is more white than the Academy Awards or the snow that is piled six-feet high in my front yard.
Furthermore, the council is completely dominated by testosterone-driven men.
You would be hard-pressed to say that the current council truly represents a city that is one of the most diverse communities in southern Maine.
A couple of weeks ago, City Councilor Brad Cote abruptly resigned from the good ol’ boys club.
Thus, Mayor Alan Casavant (another old, white guy) now has a unique opportunity to help diversify the council. By mid-March, Casavant is expected to nominate a replacement for Cote.
From there, the old, white guys on the city council will vote on whether to approve or reject Casavant’s nomination.
Casavant is limited. He must pick a replacement from Ward 3, one of the city’s more affluent neighborhoods (although it has nothing on Ward One, which includes Biddeford Pool and Fortunes Rocks).
But there are plenty of qualified women residing in Ward Three. Off the top of my head, I think of Bonnie Pothier, a former mayor. That said, Casavant told me Pothier has work commitments that preclude her from serving.
Or how about Carrie Varney Pelletier, an outspoken conservative who does not hesitate to offer her views on social media?
Or maybe Valerie Pelletier, who previously served on the airport commission and like Cote had misgivings about the airport?
The point is that the current council could benefit from a woman’s perspective. Women tend to see challenges from a more global viewpoint versus the linear approach of their male counterparts.
There are many fine women in Biddeford (I know because I’m married to one).
The trick for Casavant is finding one who lives in Ward Three and wouldn’t mind spending a lot of time with a lot of old white men.
Signed me,
Another old white guy.
The “fairness” doctrine
Lately, it seems, American culture and politics are increasingly focused on fairness and equality. We have attempted during the last decade to create several new individual “rights.” The right to healthcare, the right to faster internet speeds, income equality and a whole bunch of other rights that are intended to level the playing field.
I call these “feel good” rights because too often we ignore the fundamental fact that most of these “feel good rights” require the transfer of goods or services from one party to another, but they do make us feel better: more noble, generous and kind.
By contrast, an actual right, such as the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, are universal in nature. They are endowed by our creator (whatever form that takes for you) and they are enforced by law. Real rights are not created by government, rather merely recognized as an inherent obligation of government.
Life is not fair
In 1978, Psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, M.D. published a groundbreaking book that set the bar for so-called self-help books that would follow. The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth became a bestseller published all over the globe.
I found the opening line of that book jarring in its brutal honesty. Peck’s book begins with the statement “Life is difficult.” From there, he goes into great detail talking about the four major disciplines he saw as a path from mental and spiritual illness toward mental and spiritual health.
No matter what we wish, no matter what we desire, we cannot escape the fact that Peck’s assertion is succinctly and brilliantly accurate: Life is difficult. But I would add to that.
Life is not fair.
In fact, life is only fair in fairy tales. But in reality, life is a crap shoot. There are winners and losers. Is it fair that one person is diagnosed with cancer and another is not? Is it fair that one person loses a limb and another does not? Is it fair that one person is born into royalty and another was born into poverty with alcoholic and abusive parents? Of course not.
While we all certainly make our fair share of stupid decisions that carry with them consequences, there are many other things life throws at us that are not only difficult but patently unfair. These things are most often unavoidable and beyond our control.
It is not the appropriate role of government to make life fair. That is an impossible task that would bankrupt any nation.
But what about equality?
All things being equal
By definition, equality is another fruitless task because true equality is impossible. Unlike the concept of fairness, however, government does have an appropriate role to play in the sphere of equality.
Our Constitution declares that all men (people) are created equal under the law. Think about this for a moment. Our founding fathers knew that life was not fair and that is impossible for all men to be born equally, but under the law, every citizen is the same, regardless of their differences.
As I pointed out above, the reality of true equality is a stretch. According to my dictionary, equal (as an adjective) is defined as “being the same in quantity, size, degree, or value.”
If I weigh more than you, we are not equal. If I am taller than you, we are not equal. If you have hair, and I do not, we are not equal. You get the point.
However, when we look at equal as a noun, it is described as follows: “a person or thing considered to be the same as another in status or quality.”
Our system of laws is not perfect. OJ Simpson could still afford a better defense attorney than me. While we are both equal under the law in that we are entitled to a defense, we are certainly not equal.
By the order of natural law, true equality is virtually non-existent.
Remember the words of George Orwell in the book Animal Farm? Some animals are more equal than other animals. I know it may seem unfair, but it is true.
Tom Brady and I are never going to be true “equals.”
If we are going to have a rational discussion about fairness or equality, we must recognize that government simply cannot make something fair or equal.
What we can do, however, is treat each other as equals, despite our inherent inequality.
But no matter how many laws we create; no matter how many taxes we raise, life will always be unfair. And it will always be difficult.
Why I am a Republican
From time to time, my friends on the other side of the political aisle ask me why I choose to be a registered Republican.
As the 114th Congress begins to ramp up, and because the debate between “true conservatives” and “mainstream moderates’ in the Republican Party once again manifested itself during the selection of House Speaker John Boehner a few days ago, I thought this would be a good time to explain why I am a Republican.
My friends in the Democratic Party do not understand my political preference. Republicans, they say, favor corporate interest over the individual. Republicans, they say, are opposed to marriage equality and a woman’s right to choose.
Because I am a moderate who supports both marriage equality and a woman’s right to choose, some of my friends (on both sides of the political aisle) wonder why I would choose to be a member of the Grand Old Party (GOP).
Before we proceed, please note that this post is entitled: Why I am a Republican, not why you should be a Republican.
It should also be noted that I do not speak for my party, and I acknowledge that my views often cause other Republicans to label me as a RINO (Republican In Name Only).
Maybe it’s because I am stubborn, or maybe it’s because I am a born contrarian, but I really think my allegiance to the Republican Party (although at times embarrassing) has to do with some fundamental core differences between Republicans and Democrats.
I am also emboldened by the statements and core beliefs of President Ronald Reagan that “there is room in our tent for many views.”
Generally speaking, Republicans believe that each person is responsible for his or her own place in society, while Democrats believe it is the responsibility of government to care for all individuals, even if it means giving up some individual rights.
Generally speaking, Democrats favor the centralization of power in Washington, D.C., while Republicans hold dear the 10th Amendment, which calls for limited federal authority and rights not specified in the Constitution be reserved for the states.
On these two core values, I strongly side with the GOP. While I believe some measure of federal regulation, whether it’s the FAA or even meat inspectors at the FDA, is absolutely necessary for the common good, I also believe in the virtue of a limited federal government and the decentralization of power.
In a true Democracy, the majority trumps the minority. In a Constitutional republic, the rights of the individual, even in the minority, cannot be trumped by the majority. In the United States, we adhere a to a delicate balance between these two types of government. (The latter being intended to thwart tyranny, which can include government overreach.)
The case for and against the GOP
Of course, there are times when I find myself at odds with my own party, but after reviewing the 2014 Maine GOP Party platform, it became quickly evident that I more often side with Republicans than Democrats.
For example, one tenet of the Maine GOP platform addresses immigration, saying we “Support the assimilation of legal immigrants into Maine society.”
Another: “The profits of an individual’s efforts and accumulation of private property belong to the individual.”
More: “Implement a comprehensive energy policy that removes government obstacles and reduces the cost of energy for Maine families and businesses.”
“Welfare is a safety-net for Maine’s most vulnerable”
“Parents – not government – are most capable and responsible to make decisions in the best interest of their minor children, including medical, disciplinary and educational decision.”
There are many others, and you can read the full text here.
Although I agree with the majority of the Maine GOP’s platform, there some key places where we part ways, including language regarding abortion, the definition of marriage and calling for the repeal of the Affordable Health Care Act, among a few others.
The case for and against Democrats
In fairness, I also reviewed the Maine Democratic Party’s 2014 platform. 2014 MDP Platform
I found myself at odds with a majority of the tenets contained in that platform, including the nice-sounding but ill-advised “livable wage,” and increasing the minimum wage. Raising the minimum wage does not, in my opinion, “lift people out of poverty” rather it simply adjusts the height of the floor and removes incentive to advance.
The Maine Democratic Party believes that health care is a “fundamental human right.’ this logic is flawed because a “right” is not something that must be provided by obligation from another person or entity. “Rights” do not come with costs, and someone has to be paid to provide healthcare, whether it’s skilled nursing, facilities or medical equipment. For more of my thoughts on this topic, go here.
Democrats also support the ill-advised concept of so-called “net neutrality,” as if the government needs to be involved in regulating the internet. For more of my thoughts on this topic, go here.
The Maine Democratic Party opposes tort reform, a giant gift to trial lawyers and a sure-fire way to drive up costs in the private sector.
The Democrats also favor increasing the number of terms that a legislator can serve. Frankly, I think eight years is plenty and we don’t need professional politicians in Augusta.
The opposing party also opposes the Keystone XL pipeline, a project I vigorously support. (Pipelines are much safer than trains; and that oil will be shipped one way or another)
The Democrats also believe that a greater portion of tax revenues should come from the income tax, calling sales taxes regressive. I believe the exact opposite.
Democrats believe it is “appropriate to impose higher taxes on sin taxes. I smoke cigarettes and drink beer. Enough said.
Among many other things, Democrats believe that government pensions should be exempt from income taxes. As the spouse of a government worker, I concede that my opposition to this is not self-serving. Then again, I think we should all strive to be a bit less “self-serving.”
Now, I do find myself in agreement with many of the Democrats core principles, but I am also wary of the feel-good language and the dangers of good intentions. Democrats support workplace safety, a strong education system, marriage equality and a woman’s right to choose.
So, in the end there are inherent strengths and weaknesses in each party.
But when I do the math, it turn out that I am a Republican, even if in name only.
Ginger or Mary Ann?
It’s become an age-old question: Ginger or Mary Ann?
And more often than not, men between the ages of 40 and 60 do not hesitate with their response.
With the passing yesterday of Donna Douglas (Elly Mae Clampett), I once again started thinking about the television shows of my youth. And more than any other popular show of that genre (The Brady Bunch, The Partridge Family, The Beverly Hillbillies or Room 222), Gilligan’s Island has achieved iconic status in the world of pop culture and recently celebrated its 50th birthday.
Gilligan’s Island ran between 1964 and 1967 on the CBS network.
We all know the plot and the premise of Gilligan’s Island, but let’s save the critiques for later.
Of the two single women stranded on the tropical island (Mrs. Howell was taken), if you put farm girl Mary Ann Summers up against Hollywood movie starlet Ginger Grant, Mary Ann almost invariably trumps her much more curvaceous, sexpot co-star, among both men and women.
Why?
I’m not entirely sure, but I have a theory.
It’s because Mary Ann was the essence of innocence. She was nurturing (forever making coconut cream pies for her fellow islanders) She was modest, honest and just a little bit sassy.
On the other hand, Ginger was narcissistic, insecure and rather one-dimensional.
Men, more often than not, choose Mary Ann because of deeper instincts than sexual desire. Would you want Ginger to be the mother of your children? Would Ginger nurture you when you were sick with island fever? Probably not.
Men may choose Ginger for a night, but Mary Ann was a keeper.
Women choose Mary Ann, I think, because she embodies a better reality about women. Women are tired of the images of female body perfection that has been forced on them through media for generations.
But let’s not dance around the also obvious.
Mary Ann was smoking hot in her own right. Her shorts were always short and tight. She may have worn a farm girl’s checkered shirt, but even in the early 1960s, Mary Ann was not afraid to expose her midriff, tying that symbolic shirt of innocence around her waist.
That’s my theory about why Mary Ann trumps Ginger, despite the latter’s overt sex appeal.
In the end, virtue always wins, and Mary Ann managed to stay on the right side of that line for three years, and in our minds for 50 years thereafter.
I close by asking you to take a simple poll: Ginger or Mary Ann?
‘Tis the Season; my two favorite Christmases
Another Christmas is right around the corner, and this holiday feels different from so many others that have come and gone.
I suspect some of you may be feeling the same way, considering the stress that too often accompanies the holiday season.
I’m not sure why I am having a harder time getting into the spirit of the season this year. The awful part of this is that there is no good reason for my absence of holiday cheer. I am incredibly blessed; more than I should be.
I have a loving, beautiful and supportive wife (Don’t ask me how I pulled this off, because I have no clue).
I have two healthy, wonderful step children, a beautiful home, modern appliances and a good job with benefits, funny co-workers and a flexible boss.
I have two dogs that love me unconditionally and two cats that keep me on my toes.
I have an extended family that is more supportive than dysfunctional. Heck, I even have new tires on my truck, not to mention access to health care and a set of tools that I don’t know how to use.
So, why shouldn’t I feel jolly and bright as this holiday approaches? What has me feeling cynical and ready to scream, “Bah Humbug” at random strangers?
Maybe, just maybe, I have too much. Maybe, just maybe, I have forgotten why we celebrate this holiday.
This realization came to me as I began to reflect on Christmases past; on Christmas celebrations that did not come with so many expectations of the so-called perfect holiday.
As I contemplated these ghosts of Christmases past, it occurred to me that two particular Christmas holidays stood out as my favorites.
1.) Homefries with paprika
It was the Christmas of 1997, and I was 33 years old, virtually unemployed and living with three roommates on the third-floor of a Munjoy Hill apartment in Portland that was much closer to the bottom of the hill. I did not own a car, nor did I have a girlfriend.
I was, in every sense of the word, a loser. At least, that was my opinion of myself back then.
These aforementioned roommates of mine were unruly slobs who liked to drink, stay up late and delighted in terrorizing my cat. They were lovable guys, actually; but it grew wearisome picking up after them and tolerating their frat-boy behaviors. On the other hand, they were covering my portion of the rent. So, there’s that.
Luckily, my three roommates were all headed to their respective homes for the holidays, and I was not. To me, this was the ultimate Christmas gift: I would have the entire apartment all to myself for a few days. I spent almost an entire day cleaning the place, lit some candles and then planned what I would do on my solitary Christmas.
Only a few weeks before, my sister gave birth to my oldest niece, Kaitlyn. I had a little more than $20 in my pocket, so my Christmas shopping was going to be limited. So, on December 24, I trudged down Congress Street and stopped at the CVS store. I bought a rather inexpensive frame and some parchment paper; and then trudged down the hill toward the Hannaford store, where I bought a thick ham-steak, half-dozen eggs and some egg nog before heading home.
I loaded my word-processor with the parchment paper and drafted a poem for my niece; a poem to celebrate her first Christmas. Satisfied with the third version, I placed it in the frame and wrapped it.
I opted to attend Midnight Mass at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, and by the time I walked back home, a quiet peace and serenity enveloped me. I was exhausted, but content.
I fell asleep reading Ben Bradlee’s autobiography and awoke on Christmas morning happier than I could recall. I boiled some potatoes, setting them in a skillet with globs of butter, chopped onions and doused with paprika. In a separate skillet, I fried that ham-steak, while working to scramble some eggs and coordinate the timing of my toast.
It was a kick-ass breakfast that I washed down with a quart of egg-nog. I fell asleep again in front of the television, with my cat curled on my chest.
I had not only survived a solitary Christmas; I relished it.
2.) Reindeer tracks
It was the Christmas of 2001. A few weeks prior, I met Laura Kidman and we began dating on a regular basis. She owned a small home in Old Orchard Beach and had two young sons that I had met just a couple of weeks before Christmas. I was the editor of a small, local newspaper. I drove a 1993 Ford Escort wagon with a really bad exhaust,
Between us, Laura and I did not have two nickels to spare, but I remember how warm and cozy her house felt when she invited me over on Christmas Eve. Looking back, the “cozy” feeling probably had something to do with the house being 550-square-feet.
The boys were still young enough to believe in Santa Claus. Tim was six, and Matt was four. I bought them each several presents, which were wrapped and placed under the Christmas tree after they went to bed. Laura’s sister had helped me pick out a necklace, which I would give to my future wife on Christmas morning. But as midnight, approached, I opted to give Laura a more significant gift.
A few years earlier, my mother had given me the Nativity set that I had grown up with. From that Nativity set, I removed the Joseph figurine and wrapped it carefully. When I gave Laura that gift, I explained that I would do my best to match Joseph’s love for a child that was not his own.
Before driving home, I went out to the front porch and leaned over with a broom to create reindeer tracks in the snow.
I went back to Laura’s home on Christmas morning to watch the kids open their presents and to point out that the reindeer had landed in the front yard. They believed it for a little while, but were relentless in interrogating me about it. It was a magical day, and I felt as if I had truly turned some kind of corner that could never be reversed.
Neither of these stories are intended to diminish the wonderful and magical Christmases of my youth. My parents outdid themselves at Christmas. We decorated the tree as a family, listening to Nat King Cole and Johnny Mathis sing about the magic of the season. There was always, and I mean always, a giant orange tucked in the bottom of our stockings; my sister and I were often given matching pajamas on Christmas eve. We each had our favorite ornaments to hang on the tree. Fond memories, that must adapt to changing realities.
And what I realized today is that the more I have; the more comfortable I am, the more the magic and splendor of Christmas escapes me.
Because Christmas is not about stuff, credit-card balances, news headlines or any of the other things that can weigh us down throughout the rest of the year.
Christmas is a reprieve for those who choose to accept it.
No matter where you are, no matter your circumstance or fortune, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas
LESSONS IN MEDIOCRITY | OUTLAW JOURNALIST 