Category: Blog Posts

Commentary that has not been published elsewhere.

Fatal Attraction or Dog Day Afternoon?

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

If you think about it, it’s a really sad story. Pathetic, even.

Ted Cohen – once a highly respected veteran reporter for Maine’s largest newspaper – is today reduced to freelance writing for a handful of irrelevant websites.

Cohen has become “that character.” You know — that overweight, balding 58-year-old guy, sitting alone at the bar in an Applebee’s, nursing a Budweiser during happy-hour so that he can enjoy a half-off platter of chicken wings.

That guy at Applebee’s can’t handle the fact that his “glory days” are well behind him. He keeps talking to anyone who will listen about that high-school football championship game when he scored the winning touchdown.

Of course, the Applebee’s guy stays permanently stuck in that memory — because he can’t handle the reality that he is now divorced and the assistant manager at Wendy’s.

Over the past few days, Cohen – for reasons unknown – has decided to take some wide swipes at me and my coverage of local news in Biddeford.

Ted Cohen/ Facebook photo

Back in the old days — when we were both somewhat relevant in the news game – Cohen and I got along pretty well, especially considering that we were competing journalists.

I really admired Cohen. I liked his style and his dogged approach to getting a story. I tried to learn from him.

I am now sincerely puzzled by his animosity, and the fact that he is basically unwilling to return my calls or text messages.

What went wrong?

Ted Cohen’s biggest claim to fame was a story he uncovered about former President George W. Bush back in 2001.

Cohen was assigned to cover the town of Kennebunkport, where the Bush family spent their summers. Cohen learned that the former president was once charged with an OUI when he was a teenager.

Today – all these years later – it remains a bit murky about why Cohen’s story was never published. Cohen has written a book about the incident.

Back then, Cohen said the Portland Press Herald gave him the boot. When asked by other media outlets why Cohen was shown the door, the newspaper’s publishers said Cohen had quit and was acting like a toddler in need of a time-out.

That was all more than two decades ago. I heard that Cohen left the news business and became a truck driver, but I’m not sure if that’s true.

What I do know is that Mr. Cohen seems somewhat fixated on his former employer and relentlessly criticizes them every chance he gets with snide comments on social media.

I can certainly understand why he is still upset with the Portland Press Herald, but what puzzles me is why his is now trolling my social media accounts.

In two recent blog posts, Cohen writes that I am “masquerading as a journalist.” He also describes me as a “two-bit blogger”

“For example, when you blog about your anxieties and your mental illness,
the first thought that comes to my mind is STFU, no one cares,”

–Ted Cohen

Who pissed in his Cheerios?

What’s up with this rather creepy Fatal Attraction thing?

Howling at the moon

Over the years, Ted Cohen and I had lost touch but a few months ago he surprised me with a Facebook message, offering me some unsolicited advice.

Because it was Ted Cohen offering advice, I gave it serious attention. After all, Cohen had befriended me and was a valuable and trusted mentor.

“You’re a great reporter, and I think it’s criminal that you were taken off the Biddeford beat,” Cohen wrote, somehow missing the fact that I voluntarily gave up being a reporter so I could focus on ousting Biddeford’s controversial city manager.

Cohen was upset that I would no longer cover Biddeford City Hall.

“You can’t be a credible reporter while you are at the same time blogging your personal beliefs about the state of this world and also your personal life,” Cohen wrote, somehow missing the fact that I had given up covering City Hall as a neutral journalist.

“Stop sharing every unspoken thought you have with the public,” Cohen advised. “Stick to straight reporting. Enough already with the commentating.

“For example, when you blog about your anxieties and your mental illness the first thought that comes to my mind is STFU, no one cares,” Cohen added.

I thanked Cohen for his honest remarks, but told him I was going to continue my efforts to remove Bennett. Once completed, I could easily go back to journalism.

And then? Silence . . . right up until earlier this week.

The wrath of Khan?

With no advance notice, Cohen pounced on me just hours after I broke the news story about the abrupt departure of Biddeford City Manager Jim Bennett.

In a recent blog post, Cohen wrote: “Seaver’s political activism masquerading as journalism [resulted in him] either pulled off the city beat or resigned while writing for Liz Gotthelf, who runs Saco Bay News.

I was like a deer frozen in the headlights.

You would think that someone like Cohen – an old-fashioned reporter – would maybe check a few facts before releasing a screed?

First off, he should have called Liz, the publisher of Saco Bay News, to inquire why I stopped writing about Biddeford politics for a few weeks.

Liz would have told him that I approached her in July and told her (during a conversation at Garside’s Ice Cream stand) that I wanted to focus on ousting Bennett and could no longer ethically cover City Hall until Bennett was gone.

Cohen said I then “started my own on-line gig.”

Sorry, Ted. That’s strike two. Reporters should really check facts. I started my blog – Lessons in Mediocrity – in 2011, 14 years ago. I formally launched the Biddeford Gazette in January well after Bennett announced his resignation.

According to his bio on the National Writers Union, “Cohen was born in Burlington, Vermont in 1951, and got his degree in journalism from the University of Vermont.

Cohen is a member of the National Writers Union and a past president of the Vermont Associated Press Broadcasters Association. He is also a contributing writer to The Forecaster, a (weekly) Maine newspaper, as well as a notary public.”

So, if you need something notarized, give Ted a call.

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Voices Carry

~ Randy Seaver ~ 3 Comments

I understand that tensions are high, and that feelings are raw on the national political stage, but I still think we can engage in robust discussion and debate without marginalizing millions of Americans who suffer daily with varying degrees of mental illness.

Reading some of the social media commentary regarding the U.S. Senate confirmation hearings for Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., yesterday I was struck by the sheer delight that so many people were showing in joking about Kennedy’s rather obvious illness and his past behavior that can only be described as somewhat bizarre.

I also found it strange and somewhat sad that the majority of these pejorative comments were coming from those who generally hang out on the left side of the political aisle.

Generally speaking, Democrats will typically trip over themselves to use words like ‘diversity’ and “inclusion” at every given opportunity, eagerly patting themselves on the back for their moral leadership, always sensitive to use the right pronouns and to advance the cause of those marginalized by society for a variety of reasons.

Make no mistake, the progressive left is not wrong in its ongoing push to break down barriers and advance the cause of civil rights for all Americans. But it seems there is still a lot of work to do.

Photo: Pittsburg Post-Gazette

We should all – Democrats, Republicans, Independents — be striving to treat one another with respect and dignity, regardless of political affiliation.

In just my lifetime, our nation has made incredible strides to break down barriers and to advance opportunities for all Americans, regardless of their race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation or religion.

The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was a watershed moment, yet more than 60 years later racism remains pervasive in our culture. And, consider this, it was only 30 years ago when we adopted a policy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

Clearly, we are making tremendous progress, and there is no doubt that Democrats are generally the ones leading that charge, continually pushing and reminding us that there are still barriers and challenges we must face when it comes to inclusion, equity and respect.

However, it is apparently still okay to make jokes about those who struggle with mental illness.

It is apparently still okay to make jokes about those who struggle with mental illness.

I am in no way advocating for the confirmation of Mr. Kennedy. I am convinced – beyond a shadow of a doubt – that he is not qualified for the position.

But — as someone who lives day in and day out with a rather pronounced and significant mental illness, I cringe every time I hear terms such as “nutjob,” “whacko,” “psycho” and “Looney Tunes.”

Even Hollywood elites still – today — refer to psychiatrists as “shrinks.”

We fly rainbow flags — and for good reason — but yet we casually gloss over the stigma and shame that is still a very big fact of life for those battling an often-hidden illness that is no different than any other illness.

From a political party that gleefully accepts a mantra of “F%ck Your Feelings,” I have learned to almost accept and expect their callous disregard for minorities. I cringe. I shake my head and let out a deep sigh.

But when that same discrimination comes from the political party that is all about ending discrimination, I wonder if I will live long enough to see an end to mental illness stigma. I wonder if we will ever get to a place where mental illness is treated with parity in both treatment and insurance reimbursement in the United States.

If I told you that I developed brain cancer, your reaction would likely be one filled with immediate empathy and support.

Many times, when I do work up the courage to tell someone that I am struggling, people will tell me to try being more positive and to stop feeling sorry for myself.

Really? Do you not realize that my brain does not work properly?

A few months ago, a veteran journalist who I greatly respect told me I should stop writing blog posts about my struggles with mental illness. “Nobody really cares about that,” he said.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe nobody does care. But I am going to keep writing about it, because I have heard from scores of people who are grateful that I am willing to talk publicly about depression, anxiety and yes—even my bouts with schizophrenia.

My writing about it, apparently helps these people feel safe and not so alone in the world. Many people have family members suffering from varying forms of mental illness. If I can help just one person by talking about it; well then, I’m going to keep talking and writing about it.

Am I being overly sensitive? Just feeling sorry for myself?

Everybody gets depressed sometimes, it’s natural. Shake it off, people say.

Allow me to give you a few examples to point out why clinical depression and anxiety are very different than normal grief and worry.

I am relatively well known in my small hometown of Biddeford. Some people see me as someone who is connected to the community’s power structure, as someone who is outspoken, brash and sarcastic – – a thick-skinned egomaniac in love with the sound of his own voice and always happy to bloviate and share his opinion about local news.

I am also one of the admins for a community Facebook page of more than 18,000 members, and a few of them somehow believe that I control all communication in the city of Biddeford, and that I am nothing more than a happy-go-lucky Biddeford sycophant.

Sure, okay. Some of that may be true. I do tend to be a snarky loudmouth. But I am not connected to any “power structure.” Most mornings, I have a hard time finding my slippers. I struggle with math and puzzles, so I’m not that bright.

Writing is what I hold onto. I enjoy it, and it helps me relax and stay focused.

But there is also a dark side of my life that I rarely show to anyone, including friends and family.

Just a few weeks ago, while Laura was still at work, I went down to the basement of my home and huddled while crying because I was absolutely convinced that the “government” was trying to covertly beam information into my brain, and I wanted to be surrounded by concrete.

If someone doesn’t immediately return my call or text, I start to spiral, becoming paranoid and will often assume that person must now hate me and is now talking about me behind my back.

I generally live in almost constant fear. It has been that way since I can remember. I was a shy kid with few friends and lived in a pretend world of fantasy of my own creation, but I was always scared. Always scared.

I was scared of other kids, scared that an airplane would crash into my home. Terrified about changes in weather.

Today, as an adult, if something breaks – the toilet flapper, a leaky faucet or broken light switch, I panic.

I refuse to use my CPAP for treating my sleep apnea, because sometimes (not always) I become somewhat concerned about what information is being transmitted while I sleep. Is this the way the CIA plants messages in my brain?

I generally live in almost constant fear. It has been that way since I can remember.

If I have to drive more than 10 miles, I start to feel anxious. Someone is probably going to cross the center line and kill me. What will I do when my dog dies? While driving, I keep my racing thoughts in check by continually calculating the distance and time I have yet to travel.

It’s friggin’ exhausting.

I am almost always afraid. Fear consumes almost every single day.

So, how do I cope? How do I force myself out of bed each day? Well for starters, I take five different medications. They help me function but they also affect everything from my libido to my weight.

With the meds, I can pretend to be normal, funny, outspoken. When I’m taking my meds, I shower every day and brush my teeth. I see a psychiatrist and a therapist, although sometimes it feels like I’m a dog chasing its tail.

Can you imagine how hard it is to live with me? I honestly don’t know how Laura does it. I don’t know what she sees in me. Almost every day, I ask her if she is upset with me and whether she is thinking of filing for divorce.

My rock and salvation

I am only alive today because I was too stupid to figure out how to properly load the cheap Lorcin .380 handgun I bought on impulse on an especially dark night in October 1993. I put that gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. I sat in the middle of the floor and cried uncontrollably before calling 911. Yep, back to the hospital again.

I have been hospitalized more than 20 times – voluntarily and involuntarily — since being honorably discharged from the U.S. Air Force back in 1982.

I was last hospitalized in 2016. This is the longest stretch of my adult life outside of a psychiatric unit.

I am lucky. I have good health insurance. I have an amazing and supportive spouse. I am not facing food nor housing insecurity. Surprisingly, despite my terrible diet and complete lack of exercise, I am relatively healthy.

I also have several really good friends. I rely on them. Heavily.

With all those things, I can work, function and be a contributing member of society. More often than not, mental illness is an invisible illness.

If you ever wonder why more people don’t seek treatment or get help, just look at some of those Facebook comments that were made about Mr. Kennedy this week.

It’s 2025, and stigma is still a thing. Let’s all try to do better.

Thank you.

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This little light of mine

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

(Please do not make this political. It’s just one of my favorite memories)

Today – once again – the United States of America held an inaugural ceremony for the next president.

I intended to watch, but time got away from me.

I am a political junkie. Not very astute — but what I lack in brains I make up for it with passion, enthusiasm and interest.

Thinking about today’s inauguration ceremony in Washington, D.C reminded me of where I was on this day in 2009 – some 16 years ago.

And my memories are precious to me, especially since so many of them have been wiped clean by years of frequent ECT (Electro Convulsive Treatment) procedures, but I do vividly remember personally attending an inauguration in our nation’s capital.

The wind was bitterly cold, and the crowds were overwhelming, but I could not help feeling excited by what was happening all around me.

(Photo from The Guardian)

I did not vote for President Barack Obama. I voted for McCain. I was a registered Republican.

So why was I there? Why pay for an expensive hotel room and almost get squashed by a massive crowd of enthusiastic Democrats?

For reasons I still do not understand, I had been invited to attend a reception for the new president at the New Zealand embassy on the eve of the next day’s inauguration ceremonies. I’m not making that up.

I’ve never even been to New Zealand.

What are the odds of a Biddeford kid – a Republican, no less – getting invited to a reception for Barack Obama on the eve of his inauguration? I’ll bet that there are not many people who can say that.

I think it’s because one of Maine’s best-known and respected attorneys knew I was a political junkie and wanted to show me some appreciation, especially since we both had family connections to the town of Rumford.

At that time, I was working for one of Maine’s premier political consulting firms, Barton & Gingold, a company that was sold almost a decade ago.

We were working with several other firms on a major project in northern Maine. The law firm of Preti Flaherty was the lead legal firm on that project. Severin Belliveau was a partner at Preti Flaherty, (formerly Preti, Flaherty, Beliveau and Pachios).

In a 2013 article for Down East Magazine, Edgar Allen Beem described Severin Beliveau as “Maine’s most powerful lobbyist.”

Beem wrote: “Severin Beliveau is a familiar figure in Maine’s corridors of power, an affable gentleman always dressed just a little better than everyone else in expensive grey suits, tassel loafers, and brightly colored ties. When it comes to pressing the flesh and twisting arms, Beliveau has few equals.”

After just a few weeks of working on the project, I mentioned to Severin that I attended high school for two years in Rumford and knew his niece, Margaret Beliveau (an exceptional student).

“I knew there was something I liked about you,” Severin grinned.

Because Severin was once chair of the Maine Democratic Party and was connected to just about everybody in Maine, odds are it was him who put me on the guest list for the embassy reception.

Apparently, it is a tradition for foreign embassies (especially those located on “Embassy Row”) to host a reception for the incoming president.

It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever been a part of.

I obviously asked Laura if she wanted to go with me. “No,” she replied. “But you should go. This is right up your alley.”

I bought a new suit, and there I was — feeling incredibly intimidated at the New Zealand Embassy on a cold January night.

Mr. Obama did not make it to the New Zealand embassy that night. I can only assume he had some other, more pressing engagements.

Still, it was pretty cool to be there even though I knew no one at the event.

I could have easily gone home that night or the next morning. The news was all a flutter about the expected massive crowds that would be attending the inauguration of America’s first Black president.

“This is historic,” I told myself. “To hell with it, I will brace the bitter cold and the massive crowds.”

They say that discretion is the better part of valor, but don’t tell that to an excited political junkie from Biddeford.

Honestly, the crowds were too thick. I could not get close enough to see what was happening, but it was still an exhilarating experience. I was right there when history was being made.

It was very cold, but there was a warmth that permeated from the crowd. I was completely surrounded by people who were basking in this moment, full of optimism about the ‘hope and change’ that was beckoning.

I was in a very distinct minority that morning on the subway headed toward the Capitol Building. Quite suddenly, I got a taste of what it’s like to be surrounded by people who didn’t look like me.

But it didn’t matter. There was no racial tension. Everyone, it seemed, was smiling; joyous, optimistic and filled with hope.

Suddenly, one lady on the train began singing: “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine . . .”

Within seconds, all of the other passengers (including me) joined while laughing. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever been a part of.

So today, many years later, when I kicked myself for missing the inauguration as it was happening. I suddenly felt compelled to sing.

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

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Finest Worksong

~ Randy Seaver ~ 1 Comment

For a lot of people, it’s going to be very hard to watch or even acknowledge the inauguration of Donald Trump as America’s next president.

Look, I didn’t vote for the guy either, and it strikes me as almost surrealistic that Mr. Trump was able to get enough votes to put him back in the White House.

But whining and stomping our feet like toddlers having a tantrum will not achieve anything. It’s time for all of us to roll up our sleeves and figure out what we are each going to do to improve our nation.

Those who say things like “He’s not my president,” are dead wrong just as much as those who said Mr. Biden was not their president.

For better or worse, in less than 48 hours, Mr. Trump will again be OUR president. Certainly not the outcome some of us wanted, but reality just the same.

The United States of America is about much, much more than who occupies the Oval Office. It is our duty, our responsibility and our obligation to future generations to not ignore or walk away from what many would describe as an “unfortunate reality.”

Don’t like Trump? Okay. Fine. You are not alone, but what are you going to do about it other than bitch and moan on social media?

In fact, I believe this could be one of our nation’s finest hours. Let your discontent, your rage and sorrow forge you into becoming a better American. This is a prime time to answer President Kennedy’s call to arms, “ask not what you country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”

Don’t like Trump? Okay. Fine. You are not alone, but what are you going to do about it other than bitch and moan on social media? Are you going to step up your game as a citizen? Are you going to work to bring better alternatives to the table?

Take back America if you love it. But you can only do that if you get off your ass and stand up. The time for wailing and gnashing of teeth is over.

This is our moment. It’s time to put on the big boy pants. It’s time to be open to new conversations and new ideas. It’s time to fight for what we believe are our core principles.

It’s time to serve. How are you — yes you — going to make this country better?

Whether we like it or not, Donald Trump will be our president, but what’s holding you back from actually doing something? Make Trump’s inauguration become the catalyst for the change you want to see.

Onward, my friends! We wil get through this as long we employ courage, determination and empathy — this could be our finest hour.

Hello, Goodbye

~ Randy Seaver ~ 4 Comments

Dear readers,

Once again, I have some good news and some bad news. Let’s start with the good news.

Roughly 24 hours ago, Laura told me it was time for me to get a bit more serious about the Biddeford Gazette, an online multi-media news source focused on the city of Biddeford.

Instead of trying to run the Gazette as a subpage here — on my personal blog site — I went ahead and purchased a new domain so that the Gazette could stand on its own without all the clutter and distraction of my blog, Lessons in Mediocrity.

Going forward, as time and funding allows, I will be making enhancements to the Biddeford Gazette site to improve its functionality and design.

My goal is to give you an alternative and comprehensive overview of what is happening in the Biddeford area.

Now the bad news.

As I continue working to build the Biddeford Gazette, I am going to need your help. Mainly, I’m hoping you will subscribe (for free) and follow us on social media.

By subscribing, you will get an email update every time a new story is published. Your email address will NOT be shared with anyone else. Go here to subscribe.

I hate to be a pain in the ass, but if you are already a subscriber of my blog, you will need to subscribe separately to the Biddeford Gazette. It’s free and it’s worth it.

Throughout all of this, I will continue my blog on a more personal scale. To learn more about the Biddeford Gazette go here.

As always, thank you so much for reading!

A Change Will Do You Good

~ Randy Seaver ~ 6 Comments

“So I turned myself to face me

But I’ve never caught a glimpse

How the others must see the faker

I’m much too fast to take that test”

— David Bowie, Changes (1971)

Today – almost 44 years later – I still enjoy telling the story about the first time something that I wrote was published.

It was 1981. I was 16 and a high school junior. We were required to do a one-week work-study project, exploring a career field that seemed of interest.

I thought I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. So, I called the Journal Tribune —then this region’s daily newspaper – to make an inquiry. The editor (Eric Reiss) agreed to let me shadow a couple of reporters and work in the newsroom.

Back then smoking was allowed in newsrooms. So was coffee, profanity, screaming matches and the constant hum from a chorus of IBM Selectric II typewriters.

A typical newsroom in the 1970s (Chicago Tribune)

It was a marvelous time, especially for an enthusiastic high school kid with dreams of grandeur about becoming the next Bob Woodward.

Near the end of the week, I was allowed to occupy an empty desk that was closest to the cranky city editor, Bob Melville – a man who wore his glasses perched low on his nose.

Mr. Melville would later become a well-known real estate agent and was repeatedly elected to serve on the Biddeford School Board after his retirement. In real-life, Bob had a great sense of humor and was well-regarded as a hard-working, respectable man of intellect and integrity.

But for me, a skinny 16-year-old kid with stubborn acne, Mr. Melville was like the Wizard of Oz, and I was a combination of the Cowardly Lion and The Scarecrow. I had neither brains nor courage.

I was just sitting there at that desk, wondering what I should do. Phones were ringing all around me, but I was not allowed to answer them.

Our deadline was looming. If you have ever worked in a newsroom, you know that editors become increasingly grumpy with each passing second closer to deadline.

Melville, clutching his phone, suddenly turned to me, staring at me over the glasses that remain still perched on the end of his nose.

Mr. Melville was like the Wizard of Oz, and I was a combination of the Cowardly Lion and The Scarecrow. I had neither brains nor courage.

“Kid!” he barked. “Line Two.”

I was shocked, excited and terrified. The city editor was giving me a story. Finally! Something I could actually write! I was on my way now!

Oh, the places you will go

Turns out that the guy on ‘Line 2’ was a local funeral director. He was calling to give me a last-minute obituary for that afternoon’s newspaper.

I took copious notes on a legal pad. I do not remember the name of the gentleman I was writing about. I only remember that he belonged to about every social club you could imagine: The Elks, The Eagles, The Lions, Rotary . . . the list seemed endless.

The deceased also had roughly 250,000 nieces, nephews, cousins and grandchildren.

I hung up the phone and loaded a fresh sheet of paper into my typewriter. I had never written an obituary before, but Mr. Melville gave me a stack of some recent obits as a guide.

I put my very best effort into writing that obituary. I pained over each word, doing my best to avoid split infinitives and ending any sentence with a preposition.

Melville kept glancing at me and then the clock on the wall. I could tell he was becoming impatient.

I tore the copy from my typewriter and proudly placed it in a wire basket on Melville’s desk before returning to my chair.

I watched as he began to read my masterpiece. His brow furrowed and his posture stiffened. He grabbed a red pen and was waving it across my piece with an almost gleeful abandon.

After several painstaking seconds of anticipation, he finally turned to me and asked: “Where do you go to high school?”

Actually, that year I was attending Rumford High School, but I blurted out “Thornton Academy.”

“Well, don’t they teach English at Thornton Academy?” he huffed.

I was humiliated but could barely wait until the first run of that day’s paper was completed. I anxiously turned to the obituaries page but found nothing that remotely resembled my masterpiece.

In the end, the only two things I got right was the man’s name and age. Basically, everything else had been rewritten. No matter, I was proud.

My mother was proud, too. She cut out that obituary and posted that poor bastard’s obituary on our refrigerator – I was now part of an elite clan: a newspaper reporter who had published something in a real newspaper.

In the mood

More than four decades later, and I am now a semi-retired newspaper editor and reporter.

A few weeks ago, I launched a new endeavor, The Biddeford Gazette. The Gazette is a free, online news outlet that focuses on Biddeford news and events.

A lot has changed in the newspaper business over the last 40 years. For example, you can no longer smoke in a newsroom, but profanity among your coworkers is still strongly encouraged.

For better or worse, more and more people are turning to social media for their news and information. Thanks to technology, today’s news consumers can now custom tailor their news feed almost in the same way you create a music playlist on Spotify or YouTube.

Some of the changes are good, but many of the changes – especially AI (Artificial Intelligence) – are not so good.

Launching my own media source was never intended to become a source of income. It’s basically a hobby, a tool to help provide some handrails on the road of life.

Yes, I still do a little political consulting and some public relations work for clients throughout New England, but none in the Biddeford or Saco area.

The Biddeford Gazette allows me to report news on my terms, when I want and how I want. I’m not here to compete with any other traditional publication, including Saco Bay News, the Biddeford-Saco Courier or the Portland Press Herald.

Up until last year, my website was called Randy Seaver Consulting and provided an overview of the services I offered as a public relations consultant.

My lingering mental health issues, however, played a part in me stepping away from the full-time, stress-packed world of political consulting.

Then, as I began shifting my professional career, I renamed the site, Lessons in Mediocrity so that I could basically do whatever I want: serious journalism, political satire, fiction, local news and a diary of coping tools against schizophrenia, anxiety and depression.

Well, how did I get here?

Today is the first day of 2025.

I am no longer that skinny kid with pimples too afraid to look a girl in the eye. I am once again going to rebrand this website as the Biddeford Gazette.

Up until today, the Biddeford Gazette was a sub-page on my blog. Rest assured, my personal blog will continue – but now as a subpage to the Gazette.

Since launching the Biddeford Gazette just six weeks ago, I have been able to break some significant news stories and also have a bit of fun at the expense of local politicians. (Someone needs to keep them on their toes)

And I am pleased to announce that beginning January 6, 2025, the Biddeford Gazette will publish local obituaries that are supplied by local funeral homes.

Traditional media outlets charge significant fees to publish an obituary. The Biddeford Gazette will publish them for free with the help of some social media partners in the Biddeford and Saco area.

Imagine that, 44 years later, and I am going right back to where I started, doing my best to honor and remember those who are no longer with us.

This change just feels right.

Happy New Year!

P.S. This website is currently being reconfigured.

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Is Santa Claus real? Just ask him

~ Randy Seaver ~ Leave a comment

He’s known by many names. Some call him Father Christmas; others call him St. Nicholas or Kris Kringle. But here in North America, he is best known as Santa Claus.

Just two days before Christmas, Santa made time to sit down with me for an exclusive one-on-one interview.

Although well known for his “jolly” disposition, Santa was a tad grumpy during our meeting. It’s understandable. He has a lot of pressure this time of year. Billions of boys and girls all over the world are waiting anxiously for his delivery of toys and treats.

I decided to let other people come up with the questions for this interview.

The legend of Santa Claus goes back hundreds of years. Kelley B. wants to know what you view as major changes to your mission, specifically your annual stop at the Island of Misfit toys that started in 1964?

“Well, let’s get real. In my view, that was a very recent change, and I really owe a debt of gratitude to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for tipping me off about that place. Honestly, we are all misfits – every one of us, even me. We are all different. None of us is perfect. We are not defined by our flaws. We are defined by our capacity to love one another.”

A rare photo of Santa and Mrs. Claus at the Run of the Mill in Saco

Mark J. wants to know if Hermey the Elf is still practicing dentistry.

“Oh sure. His practice is thriving. In fact, he offers an advanced dental graduate program here at the North Pole. He’s always up my butt about the importance of flossing; as if I need another thing to worry about. (Laughs).

Celeste T. wants to know why she didn’t get an Easy Bake oven when she was a little girl.

“I get that question a lot.”

About Easy Bake ovens?

“No, silly. Lots of people wake up disappointed by something on Christmas morning. I remember when Celeste asked for that toy oven. It sort of broke my heart to see her disappointed that morning. That was a tough year for Easy Bake ovens. There was a huge demand, and unfortunately my elves just could not keep pace.

“But you know what? Today, Celeste has a wonderful oven that she uses to cook her meals and to make treats for her family and friends.

“Many people all around the world do not have an oven. In fact, many people don’t even have a home. I’m just super pleased that Celeste is still willing to be nice to other people, even though she didn’t get exactly what she wanted on one particular Christmas morning.”

 Deborah P. wants to know what kind of cookies are your favorite. She also wants to know whether she should leave carrots or sugar out for the reindeer.

“Well, she’s a very thoughtful young lady. I like all kinds of cookies. Dude, look at me. I didn’t get to be this size by licking icicles. There’s no such thing as a bad cookie, in my humble opinion.

“As for the reindeer, they prefer carrots. Carrots are rich in both calcium and Vitamin K. They promote good bone density and help with your vision, something that is very important if you’re flying all over the world at night.”

Suzanne C. wants to know more about Mrs. Claus and whether she helps you?

“There is no way I could do what I do without lots of love, help and support. Mrs. Claus and I have been married a long time. A very long time. I mean like centuries . . . you get my gist?

“Like most wives, Mrs. Claus is always willing to give advice. Over the years, I have learned that it’s best to listen to your partner. Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is to listen when they or anyone else is speaking to you.”

Jeff R. wants to know your favorite Christmas movie.

“I like all of them, but let’s get real. Die Hard is not a Christmas movie. I suppose, my favorite Christmas movie is “It’s A Wonderful Life.” That movie really underscores the true meaning of this holiday.

“Mrs. Claus likes all those Hallmark Christmas movies. Let’s just say I’m quite grateful that we have two televisions and a Netflix subscription.”

Larry M. wants to know how you leave presents at homes without a chimney or fireplace.

“It’s magic.”

Magic? What do you mean magic?

“Listen, Jimmy Olsen. There’s a lot you don’t know about magic. Magic is real as the nose on your face. Magic is simply the proper combination of love, faith and hope.

“Imagine a world without magic. A world where every single thing has to be analyzed, studied and proven? What a sad world that would be. Childhood is often described as ‘magical’ because children are willing to believe in things they don’t necessarily understand.

“Whenever you get on a plane or whenever you get in your car, you have faith. At least enough faith that you are going to arrive at your destination. You don’t have to understand aeronautics or how an engine works. You just need faith and a bit of hope. Magic is all around us if we focus on love. If we open our hearts and our eyes, each of us can see unlimited potential in each other and in ourselves.”

Who am I? Take a look in the mirror, sonny. I am you; if you choose to be me. I am your neighbor. I am your co-worker, your classmate, your friend and your enemy.

— Santa Claus

So, I suppose you’re going to say that magic makes the reindeer able to fly or that you can visit every country in the world in just one night?

“Absolutely. Magic is a wonderful gift. Every time you smile at a stranger, you are spreading love. Every time you pet a dog or hold the door for an elderly person, you are acting out your love. Everyone – – and I mean every one of us – has the power to love. Love does not require anything. It costs nothing but is the most valuable thing in the world.”

Some people say you’re not real.

“Those people are right, but they are also wrong. I am as real as you want me to be. I don’t care if you’re four years old or 40, you can believe in me if you choose. Again, love is a choice. That’s the whole meaning of presents, a practice of showing love. You can’t buy love at the store; it lies within each of us.

“Look; I gotta run. The elves are working overtime, and I need to get ready for a very, very busy night.”

But I have so many more questions. Who are you? And why do you do this?

“Who am I? Take a look in the mirror, sonny. I am you; if you choose to be me. I am your neighbor. I am your co-worker, your classmate, your friend and your enemy.

“I am the guy you are argue with on Facebook. I am your grandfather, your favorite aunt. I am a man, and I am a woman. I am very young and very old. I am simply the personification of love. That’s why I exist.

“Why do I do this? Because I can. Because I choose to love. Because this day – no matter what you call it – no matter your religion, culture or education – – it’s all about hope. About the possibility of a new start, about the potential of unconditional love. Today is a call for us to love one another.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to put some fresh batteries in Rudolph’s nose. Ho, ho, ho . . . I’m almost ready to go.”

A Legacy of Service Deserves Nothing Less

~ Randy Seaver ~ 3 Comments

Gen. Wallace Nutting was the walking, talking definition of being a local bad ass, but he was also one of the most humble and sincere people I have ever met: a man who led by persuasion — a man always in search of the potential good in others.

Therefore, I think it’s the very least we can do to rename a bridge in honor of a man who gave so much back to his community during a lifetime of service to others.

I clearly remember the first time I interviewed Wallace Nutting, a four-star U.S. Army general who grew up in Saco and later decided to run for mayor in Biddeford.

Nutting was nothing short of daunting. He was tall, well-built and leaned into his words with a gravelly voice and a demeanor that reeked of honor and respect.

But he was also a bit mischievous and his blue eyes would often twinkle while his mouth formed a sly grin.

In this 2004 photo, Nutting chats with Erin Donovan, a Main Street business owner, during a walking tour of downtown Biddeford

I started off that interview by implying that he was off his rocker with the idea of becoming Biddeford’s mayor. He was, after all, a Saco native who graduated from Thornton Academy. Worse yet, he was a registered Republican in a city dominated by Democrats.

He just smiled at me. I was playing checkers. He was playing chess.

At the height of his career, Nutting was Commander-in-Chief, United States Southern Command. He was the one who executed the plan to extract Manuel Noreiga from Panama in 1990.

While working at the Pentagon, Nutting was a senior advisor to President Ronald Reagan. Despite all this, I predicted that he would get creamed in a three-way race for mayor against Daniel Boucher and City Councilor Marc Lessard.

It wasn’t even close. Nutting won that 2003 election with 3,184 votes compared to 2,339 for Boucher and 2,244 for Lessard.

Two years later, when Nutting decided to seek reelection, no one even dared run against him.

During his four years at the helm of Biddeford, Nutting was faced with several daunting challenges, not the least of which was the city’s relationship with the owners of the Maine Energy Recovery Company, the downtown trash-to-energy incinerator.

Despite the often prevalent odors of trash being burned in the center of the city, Nutting had nothing but optimism for Biddeford’s nearly hollowed out downtown area.

Nutting was a true believer of Biddeford’s downtown, a visionary who consistently extolled a message of optimism, predicting a rebirth – a revitalization of a downtown, then almost ignored by City Hall.

But there was nothing Nutting loved more than his wife, Jane and their four children.

Nutting didn’t like the invisible division between the cities of Biddeford and Saco. He pushed for regional planning, for shared resources and ideas. To him, the two cities were one community, much stronger when they worked together.

One of my favorite quotes from Nutting was this, when asked how he won his first election as mayor of Biddeford:

“People have told me that they feel as if I speak with sincerity, truth . . . I articulated my message positively, Nutting told me. “You have to radiate integrity. You don’t lead soldiers into battle in a half-assed manner.”

Sadly, General Nutting died last year at the age of 95.

“You have to radiate integrity. You don’t lead soldiers into battle in a half-assed manner.”

— Gen. Wallace Nutting

If all goes as planned, the bridge connecting Biddeford and Saco at the bottom of York Hill will soon be named in honor of a man who was one of the community’s most distinguished and accomplished citizens.

City officials in both Biddeford and Saco have jointly petitioned the Maine Legislature to officially name the bridge in honor of Gen. Wallace Nutting, a man who was literally dedicated to bridge building between the two cities.

He was a Thornton Academy graduate from Saco, but loved Biddeford dearly.

“You know, I’m a local boy, too,” Nutting told me. “I went sledding in Clifford Park and jumped into the river with the kids from Biddeford, and flew model airplanes off the runway at the Biddeford Airport.”

As I said at the top, naming a bridge in Nutting’s honor is the least we can do.

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City commits to paying contractor in-full

~ Randy Seaver ~ 5 Comments

The Biddeford City Council voted unanimously Tuesday to find funds in its current budget to fully repay a contractor who led the effort to renovate the Seeds of Hope Neighborhood Resource Center.

Jim Godbout, a well-known community volunteer and philanthropist, appeared before the council Tuesday to provide an update about the project and its funding.

Earlier this year, city officials “cleaned out” an encampment of unhoused residents that was located adjacent to Mechanic’s Park on Water Street.

Part of the city’s plan to address issues related to the unhoused included funding a renovation project that would allow overnight respite at the Seeds of Hope building on South Street by renovating and improving the building’s second floor.

The Seeds of Hope building is a former Episcopalian church, built more than 100 years ago that takes up an entire city block.

On Tuesday, Godbout was asked to provide the council with a timeline of events that led to confusion about how the renovation work would be funded.

Jim Godbout, owner of Godbout Plumbing & Heating

“City officials asked me in mid-June if I could help with the project that would provide expanded resources for unhoused people,” Godbout said. “I was happy to help because these projects are an important element for our community.”

Godbout told the council that he immediately knew that the renovation would be “a good-sized project” that would require the help of other contractors. The city, he said, provided a budget of $800,000 to complete the task.

In June, City Manager James Bennett told the council that the $800,000 project would be funded with federal funds the city receives for Community Development Block Grants (CDBG).

With the funding source seemingly secured, Godbout said he and others jumped in feet first, even though he was still involved in another massive project to convert the St. Andre Church building into a teen center, a $3.5 million project that took almost two years to complete.

Despite being stretched thin, Godbout told the council that he was confident he and others could finish the job at Seeds of Hope before winter weather arrives.

“Before we could even start work, we had to remove more than eight 30-yard dumpsters worth of debris from the second floor,” Godbout explained, telling councilors that the building’s roof repairs were the first priority for his team.

But both Godbout and the city were soon presented with a glitch.

Because the building is on the historic register, the renovation project required additional approvals and permits.

Godbout said he was about two-thirds into the project when he received a call in mid-August from city officials telling him that there were problems securing the CDBG funds and applying for the necessary historic renovation approvals.

“I couldn’t just walk away at that point,” Godbout said. “I decided to keep moving forward because the community needed this project done.”

Godbout praised the help and in-kind donations he received from several other contractors, pointing out that his team was able to complete the project well under its initial $800,000 budget, for a total of roughly $655,000.

Although Godbout made sure that the other contractors were paid, the city was unable to pay him for the full balance of his work. Godbout said he was thankful that the city was able to pay him $400,000; with a plan for him to raise an additional $250,000 in private donations to cover the project’s total cost.

“I couldn’t just walk away at that point. I decided to keep moving forward because the community needed this project done.”

— Jim Godbout

“I have been doing projects in Biddeford for more than 40 years,” Godbout said. “I am happy to help, but the cost comes back to me.”

Following Godbout’s presentation, Mayor Marty Grohman expressed gratitude for the work done by Godbout and others, including volunteers.

“Thanks for getting this project over the finish line,” Grohman said. “The key is that this project is done. It was a team effort and a significant achievement.”

Council President Liam LaFountain then made a motion to direct the city manager to find possible funding sources in the current budget in order to pay Godbout the balance he is owed.

“We now have an opportunity to make good on our obligation,” LaFountain said.

Councilor Marc Lessard said he was in “complete agreement” that Godbout and his team should be “made whole.”

“We all have to pay our personal bills on time,” Lessard said. “It’s no different for the city. We need to be more efficient, and we need to show appreciation for the help we received.”

Bennett is expected to provide the council with suggestions about potential funding sources in January.

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Meet The New Boss – – Same as the old boss: Fecteau returns as Maine House Speaker

~ Randy Seaver ~ 1 Comment

Once again, State Rep. Ryan Fecteau of Biddeford will serve as Speaker of the Maine House of Representatives.

During a recent interview, Fecteau said there was “stiff competition and a crowded field” this year from other Democratic lawmakers for the speakership of the 132nd Legislature.

Fecteau, 32, who was “termed out” of office two years ago, is returning to Augusta representing a different district in Biddeford.

Former State Rep. Erin Sheehan, also a Democrat, decided earlier this year to not seek reelection for a possible third term representing House District 132.

Speaker Ryan Fecteau

“When I left the Legislature two years ago, I had no plans to return,” Fecteau said. “I could have run for the senate because Senator [Susan] Deschambault and I were termed out at the same time, but I felt like my time was over. I had no political aspirations at the time. I even threw away all my old lawn signs.” (Laughs)

From a historical perspective, Fecteau’s return as Speaker — following a two-year hiatus — last happened nearly 60 years ago when Speaker David Kennedy, a Republican from Milbridge, returned to the seat in 1966 when his party regained the majority.

Fecteau said a confluence of events led him to reconsider a return to the Legislature.

“In the two years after I left, we ended up buying a home that is located in another district, and then I found out that Erin [Sheehan] had decided to not run again,” Fecteau said. “I felt like I had more to give, and there’s a lot that needs to be done, but I’m not envisioning another eight years of being in the Legislature.”

Asked how he was able to once again clinch the seat as Speaker, Fecteau said many factors played a role.

“I think folks were hungry for experience.” Fecteau said. “I think I was sort of a known commodity. And I also put in a lot of work of helping others in their campaigns. I put a lot of miles on my car, and I’m almost sure that I hit every county in Maine — even some Republicans put in a good word for me.”

Fecteau is employed as a senior officer of policy and planning for Avesta Housing, a non-profit affordable housing developer that operates throughout New England.

“I think folks were hungry for experience. I think I was sort of a known commodity.

— Ryan Fecteau

Before joining Avesta, Fecteau was tapped by Gov. Janet Mills as a senior advisor in her Office of Policy Innovation & the Future just days after he was termed out of office in 2022.

Fecteau says he doesn’t see any conflict of interest between his day job and his role as Speaker of the House.

“There’s certainly always the possibility of having legislation coming before the House that could pose a conflict of interest with any member,” Fecteau said, pointing out that Maine’s citizen legislature is made up of 151 House members and 35 state senators, most of whom have day jobs.

“My employment role is independent from anything that would involve any pending or future legislation,” Fecteau said.

Asked about his top priorities for the 132nd Legislature, Fecteau said he hopes the House and Senate can find a path to address both affordable housing and childcare assistance.

Fecteau says the Legislature will need to “look hard” at possible revenue sources to provide a more sustainable approach in helping people get into affordable housing – especially since federal funds from the American Rescue Plan are no longer available.

“So many families across the state are struggling because the cost of childcare is skyrocketing,” Fecteau said. “You have many families who are deciding to either have mom or dad stay home because their wages cannot keep pace with the cost. On the flip side, wages for childcare workers have remained stagnant and are not competitive.

“It’s a huge problem, and there is no easy fix,” he said.

Editor’s Note: Earlier this year, I named Fecteau as the Number One most politically influential people in the Biddeford – Saco area.

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