Randy Seaver — journalist and former PR pro — blogs about politics, media and his struggles with mental illness.
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
Predictably, in the days following a massacre in an Aurora, Colo. movie theater, there has once again been a rallying cry for tighter gun control laws.
Sadly, this knee-jerk reaction fails to address the much larger issue: No sane person would willingly open fire on an unarmed group of civilians. It’s not about guns. It’s about our appetite for violence and our reluctance to address mental health issues.
But that is a more complex issue, and it is much harder to contemplate a solution for a problem that extends well beyond our nation’s borders, including a July 2011 massacre in Oslo, Norway or last month’s shooting spree in Toronto, Canada, where gun control laws are about as tight as they can be.
Not far from Aurora, lies the smaller town of Littleton, Colo., where two students opened fire on their classmates and teachers at the Columbine High School in 1999.
In response, the U.S. Secret Service, in conjunction with the National Education Association, undertook a study of school violence and published their report three years later, in 2002
The Secret Service Report concluded that schools were taking false hope in physical security, when they should be paying more attention to the pre-attack behaviors of students.
But behavior is a tricky subject matter, and not nearly as sexy or convenient for sound bites as AK-47s or Glocks.
No matter, we still happily and blindly toss around words such as “sicko,” “whack-job” and “nut case” to describe the people who commit these horrific, unimaginable criminal acts.
As someone who struggles daily with a mental illness, I am reminded again why I penned an op-ed that was published in the Portland Press Herald only a few days after the Jan. 2011 shootings in Tucson.
If you haven’t read it, take a gander…and let’s finally have that conversation.
This evening, a 30-year saga in Biddeford may finally come to a close. The Biddeford City Council will vote in just a couple of hours on a proposal that calls for purchasing and closing the MERC facility, a trash-to-energy facility located in our downtown area.
The 7 p.m. meeting will be held at the Biddeford Middle School.
Before I go any further, you probably already know, but it bears repeating that I provide professional consulting services to MERC’s parent company, Casella Waste Systems.
But I am also a Biddeford taxpayer who grew up in this community, and I have been vocal about this issue for a long time, years before I provided consulting services to MERC’s parent company.
With that bit of disclosure out of the way, I am hoping that regardless of how you feel about the pending agreements, you will participate vigorously in the public process.
As the editor of the Biddeford-Saco Courier, I reluctantly encouraged a YES vote on the 2005 referendum that called for Biddeford and Saco to enter into an agreement to buy and eventually close MERC for $30 million, contingent on the state providing $10 million of funding.
Today, the proposed purchase price is considerably lower, but that does NOT mean there will be no tax impacts. As a taxpayer, I am acutely aware of the difficult economy and the struggles our community faces in the days, weeks and years ahead.
But please allow me to be clear, there will be a tax impact because of MERC, whether these agreements are signed or rejected.
For example, according to analysis provided by the city of Biddeford, the tax impact of this deal would represent a $77/year tax increase for a homeowner with a property valued at $200,000. If this deal is rejected, the same homeowner would see an annual tax increase of roughly $66/year, when considering the fact that we would still need a new waste handling contract and higher tipping fees.
The city’s financial data and more information about this proposal can be found on the city’s website http://biddefordmaine.org and lots more information, including downloadable copies of the agreements and a recent media archive about the proposal can be found at a website hosted by the Biddeford-Saco Chamber of Commerce at http://closemercplan.org
Is getting rid of MERC, its stigma, the lingering concerns about potential health and environmental impacts and the opportunity for vigorous and robust downtown development worth $11/year (91 cents a month)? I say YES.
It’s the middle of July, and we all have things we would rather be doing than attending a public hearing, but this is our fourth bite at this apple. The state is watching; our neighbors are watching. It is now time for us to ask ourselves, what are we going to do to solve our problem?
The loss of tax revenue will be significantly offset (not completely) by increases from state revenue sharing, increase in state education subsidies and decreases in our county taxes.
We will still have a tipping rate well below (roughly 50%) what is paid by our neighbors and many other communities.
The purchase is being offered at zero interest over 20 years; and the tax impacts are significantly reduced in the first few years as our community works to redevelop the area and attract new businesses. The purchase price will be buffered by cell phone tower contracts and TIF revenues.
The recycling contract that is part of this deal is less than what our neighbors across the river are paying for the same service.
Financially speaking, it’s difficult to imagine us getting a better deal, but I encourage you to do your own research and make up your own mind.
During last week’s council workshop meeting, members of the city’s negotiating team made one point that everyone should consider: Casella intends to get out of the incineration business, with or without this deal. Their business model focuses on recycling.
Biddeford is being given first offer. Another operator could decide to use the facility as a biomass plant (construction and demolition debris), or as a waste plant; but will they have the financial capacity and resources that Casella has? Will they seek a property tax abatement, considering a bargain selling price?
Make no mistake, I am also worried about MERC’s employees, but we have seen this community rebound before; and are we prepared to sacrifice our future and potential for roughly 75 jobs that will soon be ending, one way or another?
The bottom line? Will Biddeford be better off with or without MERC operating in the heart of our downtown? Answer that question for yourself, and please take an active role in this hugely important issue for our community and its future.
I hope to see you on Tuesday, July 17, and I invite your questions or feedback.
A couple of weeks ago, I took a seat on the patio at the Run of the Mill restaurant in Saco. It was a beautiful weekday afternoon, and the sun was slowly setting against the backdrop of old mill buildings struggling for new life in a new world.
If you had asked me 30 years ago, I doubt that I could have imagined being there, not to mention the people I was sitting with. The faces seemed familiar, just 30 years older. They looked old. It all seemed surreal. I did not belong there.
A tradition that carries on; a testament to the past and a tool for the future
There were plenty of stories, and lots more memories shared around the table. The beer tasted good, and the river rushed by, paying no attention to these former classmates planning a reunion. I kept up with the conversation but my mind traveled back in time.
It was 30 years ago this weekend that we awkwardly marched two-by-two down center court to the waiting headmaster and our much-anticipated diplomas. I doubt that any one of us would have imagined where we would be or what we would be doing on this particular afternoon thirty years into the future. This day was then so far into the future; so far beyond our imaginations.
They call high school graduation ceremonies “commencement exercises.” We are told that this is not the end; it is the beginning of the rest of our lives.
What a crock. Things end, and new things begin. It has always been this way.
We laughed and sighed, telling stories about the places we had been and the things we remembered.
But some things never change. I didn’t fit in then, and I don’t quite fit in now. The only difference (besides my profound loss of hair) is the fact that it doesn’t matter that much. Ok, so maybe a little . . . but I digress.
I do not think of myself as someone who is pushing 50. In my mind, I am 35…maybe 36…so what am I doing with these old fuckers, talking about kids, careers and long ago memories?
I drove home that evening, wondering why we put so much effort into reunions; into recreating memories and reminiscing with people who are really no longer connected to one another other than the fact that they all gathered in one particular high school gymnasium on one particular day in 1982.
It was eight years ago this weekend that Laura and I closed on our house in Biddeford. One of the first things I did was unpack a scrap piece of lumber with small notations written on it. I held that stick up against a piece of the door frame in the unfinished part of our basement, and I meticulously copied the notations, according to name, height and date.
It was a trick I learned from my great-grandmother, Cleo, more commonly known as Nana. When I was a young boy, I visited Nana every Saturday morning at her second-floor apartment on Pearl Street in Biddeford. Nana spoiled me rotten.
At first, it was visits after Saturday morning Catechism classes at St. Mary’s; and then it became the much-anticipated end of my newspaper route that stretched from Franklin Street in Saco to Pine Street in Biddeford and included all of Gooch Island.
There were invariably pizzas from Mr. T’s and plenty of Boston Creme donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts. It’s a small miracle that I do not weigh 350 pounds. Those edible delights were all served to me on a TV tray in the living room so that I didn’t have to miss an action-packed moment of The League of Justice or Sealab 2020. There were no DVRs back then.
But there is no Nana today, and you can have my DVR for just one more of those Saturday mornings. Nana loved me unconditionally, no questions . . . no admission price… I was her son’s grandson, and that lineage came with perks that rival those bestowed upon Great Britain’s royal family.
Of course, I dutifully ran Nana’s Saturday errands…a payment on the account at Doyon’s Pharmacy, picking up a piece of cleaned jewelery at Youland’s or getting a new plunger at McKenney & Heard. And before I left to head back across the river to my boyhood home, I would stood against the closet door that Nana marked at least each month. With a ruler and a pen she notched that door with my height to measure my growth. It was her archive: evidence of what she achieved and why she worked so hard for all those years.
So, I did the same thing with Tim and Matthew when we were all living in that tiny Old Orchard Beach bungalow. But how could I keep those memories alive when we decided to sell our home? I grabbed a piece of a lumber, a pen and a level. I then carefully marked that scrap of wood so that I could carry it forward into our brave new world.
It is a world that has changed dramatically since 1982. There was no MERC. Those downtown mill buildings were still (although waning) epicenter of manufacturing. People actually drove Ford Pintos with wood panels. Van Halen was a relatively new band, and we listened to that music on cassette tapes. There were no answering machines or blogs.
We remember so that we do not forget. We reminisce because it reminds us of our shared and fragile connections.
There is comfort in ritual; there is innocence in nostalgia, and there is the sudden realization that change is certainly incremental, yet never-ending.
Anything will grow in June, when it’s very easy to forget that the days will soon again become much less long.
Within 24 hours the family feud will be over but political tensions in Biddeford will likely remain high long after the ballots from the June 12 Primary Elections are counted.
For the first time in more than 25 years, incumbents in each of the city’s three legislative districts are facing primary challenges.
Joanne Twomey
Now for a few predictions about tomorrow’s outcomes. (these are not necessarily my choices, just my predictions)
District 135 House Seat (Paulette Beaudoin v. Joanne Twomey)
Beaudoin, the incumbent, has never faced a primary challenge, and she has her work cut out for her with a challenge by former Biddeford Mayor Joanne Twomey. Twomey held the House seat and previously recruited Beaudoin to fill her shoes. Joanne took her loss for a third term as mayor hard, but this campaign has been relatively quiet, despite a last-minute dump of cash from a pro-casino PAC. If signs are any indicator, Beaudoin will do well….but political signs are little more than psychological warfare and Twomey is a savvy campaigner. In this race, I predict a razor-thin victory for Beaudoin. (less than 5%)
District 136 House Seat (Megan Rochelo v. Bobby Mills)
Bobby Mills
This is a rematch between incumbent Rochelo and perennial political candidate Bobby Mills, a city councilor who often runs for elected office). Rochelo is hoping for a second term in the district that is bubbling over with Democrats. Mills is hoping to settle a score, but screwed up significantly a couple of weeks ago by posting callous and stupid remarks about his opponent and her husband’s funeral on his campaign’s Facebook page. Mills attempted to edit his stupidity, but it was too late for his revisionist tactics. Several of his supporters backed away; and despite his open and forceful support for a casino in Biddeford, even the boys from Vegas took a few steps back and Mills did not receive any of the support that other local legislative candidates received from a pro-casino PAC. Rochelo by 10 points or better in this race.
District 137 House Seat (Alan Casavant v. Nancy Sullivan)
Nancy Sullivan
Casavant, serving his first term as the city’s mayor, is being challenged for his House seat by outgoing State Senator Nancy Sullivan. Sullivan really does not want to leave Augusta, and she is running a tight and competitive campaign with plenty of help from the boys in Vegas. Although she approached Casavant late last year, suggesting he should run for her termed-out senate seat, she is now campaigning on the premise that Casavant cannot effectively serve two masters. The problem here, is that she may be right, especially when considering some of the things Casavant repeatedly writes on his Facebook page. This will be a close race. Despite a contentious municipal budget, Casavant is still very popular and downright likable. Sullivan, however is a fierce competitor and better financed. Despite the intent of term limits, I predict Nancy will recapture her old House seat in what will be one of the state’s tightest Primary elections. Sullivan by less than 2 percent.
In other races, expect Linda Valentino to roll past Don Pilon in Senate District 5; Jon Courtney will blow Patrick Calder out of the water for the GOP’s chance to take on Democrat Chellie Pingree in November for Maine’s First District Congressional seat. In a crowded race, Republicans will almost evenly split between Rick Bennett and Bruce Poliquin for the chance to hold Olympia Snowe’s US senate seat for the GOP. (Charlie Summers looks tired, and not enough people know any of the other candidates.) Meanwhile Cynthia Dill will do well with Democrats in southern and coastal Maine, and expect her to dominate college campus towns and maybe Blue Hill; Jon Hinck will do well in Portland’s West End neighborhood, but Matt Dunlap, a more moderate candidate from Old Town, will ultimately win the ticket to a suicide bid against former governor and independent candidate Angus King in November.
Our relationship has always been somewhat strained.
There is an edge, a certain wariness. Something that neither of us talk about.
Sometimes, we just struggle through it. But more often than not we just let it hang in the air, a cloud of mistrust, fear and the evolving realization that we are more alike than either of us can imagine.
Today, he seems different. More confident, relaxed.
Me? Not so much, save for a recent dose of clarity.
Today is his 15th birthday, but it was earlier this week that Matthew became a man; that he became what I always knew he could be.
And I could not be more proud of him.
It was a warm day, a holiday. There was another lawn that needed to be mowed.
The Rent-A-Teenager program we started just a few days before was flourishing. The phone was ringing off the hook, and both Tim and Matt were adjusting to the sudden influx of responsibility and the world of work.
Tim, my oldest son, was grumpy and tired. He was dragging and stalling.
I did what I do best: I got frustrated. “We committed to this job,” I barked. “When we say we’re going to do something, we do it!”
Tim shrugged. It was a job he committed to, but he was not feeling well and wanted some more time to wake up before leaving.
I had my own struggles. I had planned a window of time to help the kids with their business, but I had lots of other plans and the clock was ticking. There was a barbecue with friends, bills to be paid, laundry . . .
Another 10 minutes went by, and I loaded the mower in the truck. Tim was sullen, angry. “If you won’t do it, I will,” I huffed.
Matthew watched the exchange between me and his brother without commentary. He had the day off. He had his own holiday plans.
As I was backing the truck out of the driveway, he flagged me down. “I’ll do it, Dad,” he said.
We rode to the job site in our typical silence. I was concerned. It was a good-sized lawn, and I assumed most of it would fall on my shoulders.
I was judging Matthew the boy. I did not realize then that I was riding with Matthew the man.
We got to the site, and I gave him the instructions. He listened carefully before helping unload the mower, the trimmer and a push-broom.
To stay on schedule, I started the trimming, but kept a careful eye on Matthew with the lawn mower. I have high expectations. I am demanding.
But Matthew never wavered. He was sweating in the direct sun, but kept the lines straight. His eyes were fixed on the ground before him, carefully watching for rocks. He never stopped. He never paused. He never complained.
When he finished the mowing, he carefully inspected his work before sweeping the walkway without me telling him to do it.
He wanted that lawn to look good, perfect.
We returned home in silence. Two men who just finished a job. A father and a son.
The silence was comfortable, familiar for both of us.
I snuck a glance at him in the passenger seat of my truck. He was smiling. And then it dawned on me: He had become everything I wanted him to be: a hard worker, honest, ethical and polite.
I have known Matthew since he was four years old. God had given me an amazing gift. I just saw a boy become a man, and that is a rare thing to witness.
Matthew saw a job that needed to be done. His family needed his help. Without question, without hesitation, he stepped up and delivered.
Matthew and Tim are brothers, but they are not the same.
My relationship with Tim has always been easier, less awkward . . . more natural.
Tim is instinctively courageous and confident. He can fix anything. He is handsome, tough and cool. The self-appointed defender of the weak who is always ready to push the envelope.
We call him “Fonzie.” He is everything I was not when I was 17. Just ask my classmates.
I secretly admire him, even when he pushes the envelope just a wee bit too far.
Matthew? Think Richie Cunningham. A bit more shy and not as confident. A gifted writer and artist. Someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. A model student, polite, clean-cut and destined to be anything he wants to be.
Matthew is the kid you want your daughter to date. He is funny, exceptionally smart and ready to blow the SATs out of the water.
Tim embraced me as his father almost immediately. It was not the same with Matthew.
Matt clung to the idea that his biological father and Laura would reunite. He had little use for a demanding stepfather who can lecture with the best of them.
Matthew and I clash because we are both perfectionists, dreamers, procrastinators. We are both overly sensitive and a tad needy at times.
When I saw Matthew, I saw a mirror.
I’m stupid like that. Matthew is not my reflection. He is his own man. Whatever I could teach him has been taught. He is more than ready for whatever lies ahead; great things, I’m sure.
Happy birthday, Matthew! You are an exceptional man, and I am so very proud of you!
President Barack Obama is on a roll. After nearly four years of “evolving” on the issue of gay marriage, he finally caught up to former Vice President Dick Cheney.
As expected, there has been much media hoopla about Mr. Obama’s sudden profile of “courage” regarding this very controversial social issue.
But is all the praise deserved?
Not quite, . . . at least according to some observers who say that Obama is still dancing around the issue.
For starters, The Atlantic reminds us of what Cheney said in 2009 on the issue of gay marriage:
“Well, I think that freedom means freedom for everyone,” Cheney said. “. . . I think people ought to be free to enter into any kind of union they wish. Any kind of arrangement they wish. The question of whether or not there ought to be a federal statute that governs this, I don’t support . . . It has always been a state issue, and I think that’s the way it ought to be handled today, that is on a state-by-state basis.”
So why exactly did Mr. Obama wait three years to say the very same things that Dick Cheney said in a July 2009 interview?
Is he worried about his upcoming election? Did he have an epiphany? Was it the result of a recent referendum in North Carolina?
Not exactly.
Obama got put into a box by his No. 2.
A few days ago, Vice President Joe Biden had a stunning moment of clarity that apparently caused lots of hand wringing in the Oval Office.
Biden made it abundantly clear that he supports gay marriage. For nearly 48 hours, the media was talking more about Biden than Obama.
That will just not do.
So, the prez called his buddies at ABC and cautiously waded into the pool, offering some rather tepid remarks about an issue that should be at the forefront of his party’s platform.
” . . .[Obama] now believes that gay couples should be able to marry. He doesn’t believe they have a right to do so. This is like saying that black children and white children ought to attend the same schools, but if the people of Alabama reject that notion—what are you gonna do?”
Gawker correctly reminds us why the president’s words were so lame and pathetic:
” . . . before Roe v. Wade, abortion was a state-by-state issue, too. So was slavery. There are 44 states in which gay men and women are currently barred from marrying one another. Obama’s position is that, while he would have voted the other way, those 44 states are perfectly within their rights to arbitrarily restrict the access of certain individuals to marriage rights based solely on their sexual orientation.”
If our president had real courage or anything remotely resembling integrity, here is what he should have said:
“Gay people have the right to get married just the same as atheists, heterosexuals or any other consenting adult. Marriage is a deeply personal issue, and our government should acknowledge and respect the decisions of all marriages without deference to religion, gender, sexual orientation or race.
“I will make it a central point of my second term to ensure that every gay person has the same rights as every other American. I will take this message to each and every one of our 50 states and sell it door-to-door if I have to. It is just the right thing to do, and anyone who values liberty and personal freedom ought to be standing proudly with me on this issue. Period.”
Well, we can hope for change, right?
Yeah, don’t hold your breath looking for real leadership from either Mr. Obama or Mr. Romney on this issue.
Oh yeah, one more thing: Which president signed the Defense of Marriage Act and deployed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell?
Hell hath no fury like a politician scorned, or so they say….
Enter State Senator Nancy Sullivan, the self-righteous, semi-retired English teacher who desperately wants to keep her state health insurance and can’t accept the terms of Maine’s term limits law.
Sullivan is being forced from the senate because of term limits, so now she wants to go back to Augusta as a state rep in District 137.
There’s just one little thing standing in her way: Biddeford Mayor Alan Casavant, a fellow Democrat who also happens to be the incumbent state representative in District 137.
Despite winning a landslide mayoral election in November, Casavant also wants to serve a fourth and final term in the Maine House of Representatives.
In a rare Primary election attack ad that was published in local newspapers, Sullivan questions Casavant’s commitment to both the mayor’s office and his state rep seat.
I don’t blame Sullivan for going after Casavant’s competing public service roles. Frankly, his dual roles represent one of his biggest political liabilities.
But Sullivan conveniently forgets to mention a few other things in her attack ad, which is labeled: “Being mayor is a full-time job.”
For starters, Sullivan wouldn’t know what a full-time job looks like if one jumped up and bit her in the face. Before heading off to Augusta to begin her political career, Sullivan was a middle-school English teacher in Saco.
Teachers work hard, long hours, but they also get a week of vacation during Christmas, a week of vacation in February, a week of vacation in April, and then 6-7 weeks of summer vacation from mid-June through mid-August.
Going from being a full-time teacher to being a part-time legislator doesn’t require much of a transition, if you get my drift.
Sullivan was more than happy to ignore her obligations as a “full-time” teacher to launch her political career in 1998. To her credit, she used part of her teacher pay to reimburse Saco schools for the “full-time substitute” teacher who had to take over and run her classes.
But she also enjoyed nice perks by racking up retirement funds from both positions.
Her rival is not much different. Casavant also went to Augusta during his lifelong career as a teacher at Biddeford High School. Neither Casavant nor Sullivan has held a private sector job for more than three decades.
So don’t expect Sullivan to make much noise about Casavant being both a teacher and a legislator.
Sullivan has a long history of talking out of both sides of her mouth. It’s a big mouth, so it’s not an especially remarkable feat.
In her ad, Sullivan chastises Casavant for missing three recent “School Board” meetings. Maybe someone should tell Sullivan that Biddeford does not have a school board. We have a school committee. Yup, there is a big difference between a board and subservient committee.
She also criticizes Casavant for not taking the time to more closely examine the city’s budget “in order to lessen the tax burden on citizens.”
I’m not exactly sure why an English teacher would capitalize the word “budget” in the middle of a sentence, but hey….cut her some slack. It’s been a while since Nancy was in a classroom.
There’s also this fact: there is no burden on Biddeford’s taxpayers as a result of the recently proposed budget. Umm, Nancy…this is why they call it a “proposed” budget. It will likely be re-tooled before being voted upon by the city council.
Apparently, Sullivan is very worried about this budget. It’s hard to know. I didn’t see her at Monday night’s budget workshop meeting. Casavant was there, and as I write this, he is at another budget meeting.
Sullivan also conveniently ignores the fact that Casavant has repeatedly said this proposed budget represents too much of a burden. and he will not support it as it is now proposed.
And then there is the fact that one of the biggest increases in the city’s proposed budget represents a shift of funding from the state level to the municipal level for general assistance funding.
Does Sullivan support slashing general assistance funding? Didn’t she criticize Republican Governor Paul LePage for basically the same thing?
Perhaps Sullivan would like to see the proposed increases in Biddeford’s school budget slashed. Which teachers would she like to fire? We coud certainly use her experience and savvy in this arena.
In closing out her ad, Sullivan states: “I have time for YOU!”
This confuses me. Allow me to explain why.
During each of her campaigns for the senate, I have supported Sullivan. Laura and I have donated to her campaign. I have attended her fundraising events, and I have always put her campaign signs on my lawn.
A little more than two years ago, Laura called Nancy to ask a questions and offer some perspective as a state employee about one of Governor John Baldacci’s proposed budget shifts.
Sullivan never returned the call. Laura sent an e-mail. Again, no reply from Sullivan. We also didn’t hear back from our state rep, Paulette Beaudoin.
Frustrated, Laura called Alan Casavant, a state rep in a different district. Casavant called her back the same day.
The funny thing about Sullivan’s ad is that she never mentions anything she has accomplished for the people of Biddeford. Not one thing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero.
Instead, Sullivan did what she does best: full-on attack, tearing down her opponent.
After 14 years of serving Biddeford in Augusta, Sullivan can’t recall one thing she has accomplished for the people of Biddeford? Combine that with the fact that she still hasn’t been able to land a job for her husband; and you are left with a pretty dismal track record.
If you prefer petty, vindictive self-serving politicians, please vote on June 12 to send Nancy Sullivan back to Augusta for another two years…maybe then, she can actually do something for Biddeford.
Members of Maine’s Democratic Party are breathing a collective sigh of relief today after learning that Biddeford City Councilor Bobby Mills has returned to the fold as a solid Democrat.
For those of you playing at home, yesterday Mills announced that he was leaving the Democratic Party and his Primary challenge against incumbent Democrat State Rep. Megan Rochelo for the District 136 seat.
On his campaign Facebook page, Mills lamented that he is “too conservative for the Democrats and too liberal for the Republicans,” thus he was filing as an independent candidate — in the neighboring District 135.
That announcement followed on the heels of Mills’ decision to buy a new home.
But today Mills learned that his new home is, in fact, still part of District 136. So, of course, he is back to being a full-blooded Democrat, no different than FDR, Ted Kennedy or Joe Brennan….solid donkey all the way.
Apparently, a 2003 error at the Biddeford City Clerk’s office caused Mills and several others to believe a portion of Green Street (where his new home is located) was actually part of District 135, where former state representative and mayor Joanne Twomey is planning a Primary challenge against incumbent Paulette Beaudoin.
It’s been a tough couple of years for Maine’s Democrats. In 2010, their party lost control of both the Maine House and Senate. Libby Mitchell, the Democratic nominee for the Blaine House, got smoked by Independent Eliot Cutler, who got smoked by Republican Paul LePage.
Then, when Republican Senator Olympia Snowe surprised everyone with the news that she would not seek re-election, a few Democrats poked their heads out of their caves and briefly considered a run…right up until Independent and former governor Angus King announced he was running and most of the Democrats went back into hiding.
It’s a rebuilding year for Maine’s Democrats, but at least they did not lose Bobby Mills.
“It would have been catastrophic for us,” said one party insider who asked to remain anonymous. “Bobby is a real party stalwart. Losing him would have been the nail in the coffin for us. I mean, really…our morale is so low…the only candidates we can throw at the Senate race are Cynthia Dill, Matt Dunlap and John Hinck. It’s not like we have a deep bench.”
The source declined to comment on growing speculation that Mills could be drafted by the Democratic Party to make a run for either Snowe’s senate seat or possibly challenge President Barack Obama in the primary.
“He (Mills) is a solid guy,” the source said. “When push comes to shove, we know we can count on him when the going gets tough.”
In just a few weeks, Biddeford voters will face a rather unique set of choices.
For the first time in more than 20 years, all three of the city’s incumbent state representatives are facing challenges from members of their own party for the June 12 Primary election — well . . . up until an hour or so ago.
Although both Alan Casavant and Paulette Beaudoin are hoping to serve a fourth and final term in Districts 137 and 135, respectively; the District 136 race took an unexpected turn today when city councilor Bobby Mills announced he was dropping out of the Democratic Party and will not challenge incumbent Megan Rochelo in the June 12 Primary.
On his campaign Facebook page, Mills announced his sudden departure as a philosophical awakening of sorts….what recovering alcoholics generally refer to as a “moment of clarity.”
Mills says he is “too conservative” for the Democrats and “too liberal” for the Republicans.
Of course, there is also the technical fact that he just bought a home not located in District 136.
So, voila…Mills is now an Independent, just like Angus King, Eliot Cutler and Jesse Ventura.
Funny how a real estate transaction can alter your political priorities.
Fortunately for those of us who live in District 135, we will now have a third choice in November as Mills stakes out the ground between whomever wins the Democratic Primary (Paulette Beaudoin or Joanne Twomey) and Republican Perry Aberle, a former city councilor.
So, who cares? What’s the big deal? The same people who have been running for office for more than a decade are back at it again. Yawn.
Maine voters overwhelming approved the adoption of legislative term limits in 1993, and most political observers point to the scandal involving then Speaker of the House John Martin as the catalyst for the referendum that was approved by 68 percent of Maine’s voters.
Thus, people like Nancy Sullivan can turn around and swap seats instead of returning to the dreaded private sector.
The strategy of toggling between the House and Senate every eight years has worked wonderfully for Martin, even though he was described as the “poster boy” of Maine’s term limits law.
According to the report by Powell and Jones, Maine’s term limits law was enacted after an especially tumultuous turn of political events that included the slim re-election victory of Republican John McKernan and the “ballot-gate” scandal involving John Martin.
Voters were further dismayed by sheer partisanship in Augusta. A protracted budget fight between McKernan and the Democrats who controlled both the House and Senate in 1991 caused a 17-day state shut down.
Those who support term limits say it prevents an entrenched system of government and prohibits the development of professional politicians.
Someone ought to explain that to Martin, the Earl of Eagle Lake, one of the most hated, yet simultaneously respected, members of the Maine Legislature.
Martin was first elected to the Maine Legislature in 1964, the same year I was born. And he got real comfy, real fast in Augusta. For nearly 50 years, Martin has been the proverbial leader of the Legislature.
Those who oppose term limits say it takes almost two years for new lawmakers to learn how to submit legislation, work in their caucus, find the washroom or learn how to stuff a ballot box.
And, of course, we cannot forget about the dreaded lobbyists, most of whom have been wandering the Capitol Hallways since Elvis was alive. Term limit opponents invariably ask the same question: “Do we really want to have lobbyists with more experience than legislators?”
Just remember, everyone hates lobbyists, except their lobbyist.
Whether it’s renewable energy, labor rights, the ACLU, the banking industry or realtors, just about everyone, with the exception of overweight bloggers from Biddeford, is represented in Augusta by a powerful lobbyist.
So what will Biddeford’s Democrats do in June, when they are asked whether to stay the course with the incumbents or choose some not-so-fresh blood?
If past election results mean anything, it’s likely that most Democrats will skip the Election and head to the beach, the movies or stay at home sticking hot needles in their eyes.
Casavant is facing a serious challenge by Sullivan, who is a savvy campaigner, tenacious and hungry for the job.
Although Casavant easily overwhelmed Twomey in last year’s mayoral race, he has a whole new set of challenges, including a looming municipal budget battle and the appearance of divided loyalties.
Can Casavant simultaneously serve as Biddeford’s leader while also representing a portion of Biddeford and Kennebunkport in the Legislature? The odds, for better are worse, are in Sullivan’s favor.
Meanwhile, Paulette Beaudoin, the sweet little old lady who does exactly as told by her caucus, is facing a very serious threat from Joanne Twomey, one of the best campaigners since Huey Long.
Beaudoin might stand a chance if she could figure out how to use a telephone to return calls or how to raise her needed seed money for a Clean Elections campaign. Here again, the incumbent is in trouble and Twomey can expect an easy and overwhelming win.
I have no dog in this fight, but I can assure you this much: when the November general election rolls around, you can expect to see a lot of the same faces you’ve seen for the better part of the last decade.
I am not a believer in term limits. I believe in voters, and I also believe this will be one of the most interesting June elections Biddeford has seen in a very long time.
Just remember, if nothing changes…then nothing changes.
For those of you who think I am a world-class prick, what you are about to read should only confirm your suspicions.
It is a recounting of my reaction, more than three years ago, when I was about to learn that my wife, Laura, was diagnosed with MS.
The only way I can even begin to assuage some of that guilt is to do what I do…tell a story, share that story and hope that maybe you will feel compelled to help . . . just a little bit
If the following story moves you, if it makes you angry or if it makes you sad . . . please consider clicking this link.
If my words about that crappy day, full of self-righteous indignation, make you smile or laugh . . . please consider clicking that link.
If my words make you wonder how a world-class prick can end up with such a wonderful wife. . . well, you get it. . . click that link.
Enough of this…here’s the story one more time . . .
December 2008
It is paper-thin and measures only 8 by 3-1/2 inches, but it scares the hell out of me.
It has been sitting on the dashboard of my truck for several days, just there. Always visible. Always reminding me of what I cannot escape.
It is a placard that allows parking in disabled parking spaces. You know the one. The little, gender-neutral stick figure that sits in a wheelchair against a crimson-blue backdrop.
I have been struggling with writing this post for the last several days because I am terrified of both its content and the potential reaction from those who read it.
The reason I have the placard is because Laura was diagnosed with MS in December 2008. Since then, she has experienced fluctuating levels of mobility; and I do my best to ignore it. To brush it off. To think it will eventually go away.
Some days are better than others.
That’s how it goes with MS, people tell me. I try to pretend that Laura is just tired or maybe a bit depressed. Maybe if I work just a bit harder, just a bit more, it will go away. That is a child’s thinking. That has been my thinking.
Make no mistake, Laura is lucky. Her MS is fairly manageable. She is able to go to work each day and leads a more than productive life.
But still, I wonder. Me, the eternal pessimist. This disease is slowly, but deliberately, taking away a little piece of my wife each day, no matter how much I try to deny or ignore it.
I still remember the day she was diagnosed. It was just a few days after Christmas. Laura had been experiencing a strange numbing sensation on her face. She made an appointment with her doctor. He recommended that she see a neurologist. At the time, we both thought it was no big deal.
I was home and knee-deep in ethernet cables when Laura called me on her way back from the doctor’s office.
I didn’t take her to the appointment. My mother-in-law drove her to and from the neurologist’s office.
I regret that decision to stay and work on hooking up my kids’ computer to the internet. But I don’t regret that decision nearly as much as I regret the things I said to Laura when she finally got me on the phone.
“Hey,” she said in a soft-spoken tone which belied the news that should have followed. She wanted to tell me in person, face-to-face.
“What,” I shot back, only half paying attention, much more focused on the twisted mass of blue wires wrapped around my feet.
“I was wondering if you could start a pot of coffee,” she asked.
I was livid. I had already done three loads of laundry, paid the bills and vacuumed the living room. The computer wiring was near the end of my “to-do” list and the thought of one more thing sent me over the edge. Idiot, that I am.
“You want coffee? Make it yourself,” I barked. “Do you know what kind of day I’ve had? Pick up a cup from Dunkin’ Donuts or whatever, but just leave me alone.”
Silence.
“What’s your problem?” I continued. “You’ve been out shopping with your mother, and you want me to make the fucking coffee? Could you be any more lazy?”
“Sorry, ” she said. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll take care of it myself.” And the phone went silent.
She arrived home maybe 20 minutes later. I was still up to my knees in tangled cords. She brought me a cup of coffee and asked if we could talk.
I was still exasperated. “What?”
“They diagnosed me with MS,” she said, trying very hard to hold back the tears.
I let go of those silly cords. We sat down at the dining room table and began our latest adventure.
If you think I was a prick then, I can assure you that I haven’t done much better since.
I avoid conversations about MS. I avoid the annual MS Walk. I don’t want to think about it. I want it to go away.
Every other night is “shot night” at our home. Every other night, Laura injects herself with Betaseron to keep the illness at bay. Every other night, I turn away and find something else to occupy my thinking.
I love my wife. Honestly, I do. And I know she needs my support. Again, some days are better than others.
So today, marks the first day that I used the placard. We took Laura’s mother to Wal-Mart. We parked in one of the disabled spaces. Betty was moving through the store like a speed demon, anxiously making her way toward what would hopefully be her new television. She is 66 years old and she left me in the dust.
Instinctively, I paused, and turned back to check on my wife. I could tell that Laura’s energy level was dropping quickly. “Are you okay,” I asked.
“Yeah, she nodded. “I’m fine.”
I knew it was a lie, and once again…I played along.
LESSONS IN MEDIOCRITY | OUTLAW JOURNALIST 