It’s been a crazy, hectic and somewhat emotional week.
On the work front, I was dealing with back-to-back significant news stories that took up a lot of my energy and time.
And — Laura chipped a tooth while eating a salad (Exhibit 104 of why you should avoid salads). The ensuing emergency dental visit put a nice little ding on the bank account.
We struggled with getting the camper ready for the season, and could not figure out why the battery was not charging. It’s fixed now. Also, the work week was evenly framed by two Saturdays of rain. Nice. I am already way behind on my outdoor chores.
And then there is always the plentiful criticism, the wailing and gnashing of teeth from people who are upset about me being one of the admins on the Biddeford + Saco Community Facebook page. What else is new?
My friend Liz Gothelf, publisher of Saco Bay News, was also there to cover the story, but I doubt that she experienced any of the emotional baggage that I felt walking back into that building for – presumably – the last time.
I would not be who I am today if I didn’t shit my pants in the first-grade.
You see, I was a first and second-grade student at JFK, just before my parents bought their home in Saco.
Liz and I left the press event at the same time. On our way out, we spotted a large canvass hanging in the hallway. Apparently, it was used to take pictures of the students. The banner read: “Be Awesome Today! We Are So Proud of You.”
We simply could not just walk past that photo opportunity. We took pictures of each other under the banner before exchanging goodbyes in the parking lot.
I quickly walked back to my truck, trying to hold back the tears welling up inside of me. I didn’t want anyone to see me crying.
All I could think about in that moment was a little six-year-old boy so afraid of his surroundings and the teacher that he literally shit his pants instead of asking the teacher to use the bathroom.
It might be okay if that was an isolated incident. Accidents happen, more literally: shit happens. But this was just a symptom and sort of encapsulated how I continued living my life.
For as long as I can remember, I have always been afraid. Always.
I was afraid of the other kids. I was shy, terrified of gym classes with Mr. Stanley at Young School in Saco. I was terrified of storms, I believed my parents were intentionally trying to poison me.
This carried on into high school. I was a shy basket case. I went through the motions, almost completely disconnected from my classmates. In fact, you cannot find a photo of me in our senior yearbook.
It’s as if I was invisible, and that’s how I liked it.
The fear thing continued into my very brief stint in the Air Force and followed me to college and later as I rather aimlessly shifted about the country. In and out of psychiatric facilities in Arizona, Tennessee and Oregon.
Things didn’t really change until the late 1990s when I was hired by the Biddeford-Saco Courier. All of a sudden, I had both a purpose and a personality. A couple of years later, I met Laura.
Today, I am not afraid of public restrooms. I’m not afraid of the teachers or even the principal.
Almost 55 years later, I was telling the teachers and staffers where to stand and how to pose for the photo. People listen to me — and for reasons I do not understand – they seem to respect me.
I wish I could go back in time and tell that terrified, little boy that he doesn’t have to be afraid; that very good things are coming his way. I wish I could tell him, ““Be Awesome Today! We Are So Proud of You.”
But you know what?
I would not be who I am today if I didn’t shit my pants in the first-grade.
Randy Seaver is a cranky, nearly insufferable malcontent living in Biddeford. He may be contacted by email: randy@randyseaver.com
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Lots of people asked me today what I am doing to celebrate my birthday. The following is not made up or me trying to be funny, in fact just the opposite.
I made brunch this morning for Laura and myself. We took a quick drive along a small part of southern Maine’s coastline. Got home. Started a load of laundry.
Tonight, I will have the pleasure of enjoying a bucket of KFC chicken (my favorite) while watching a cheesy 1970s Japanese movie about Godzilla curled up on the couch with my beautiful wife. I predict I will be in bed by 10 and snoring 20 minutes later.
Each week, I read through all the obituaries. And every week, there are death notices for people younger than me. And that is a real and rather brutal wake-up call.
We all have an expiration date. Most of us have no idea when we will take our last breath. Every day is a gift, cherish each of them.
Laura is in the kitchen making me a cake. Screw the diet. I’m having two pieces. Celebrate every day as if it’s your last . . . because one day it will be.
Thank you so much to all who reached out to wish me a happy birthday! I begin my next trek around the sun with confidence and optimism.
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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?
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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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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It’s really not that surprising, and I’m not so sure that I disagree with Maine Governor Janet Mills.
Here’s the set-up: Maine Democrats – who have majority control of both chambers in the State House – are in a tough spot.
Why? Because there is a possible and significant state budget shortfall on the horizon.
To pay for everything their party approved last year, and to keep pace with the additional spending the governor wants — not to mention that Mills’ latest budget proposal is roughly 10 percent higher than the last biennial budget — the Democrats are going to need to find some new revenue.
Stat!
And where is the easiest place to find new tax revenue without inciting street riots from Sanford to Caribou?
You go for the low hanging fruit – a.k.a. the people who don’t have a team of lobbyists and consultants in their back pockets; the people easiest to demonize.
You go for the smokers. Nobody – except other smokers – really likes cigarette smokers. They stink, they tend to be less educated and low-income workers. . . you know? . . . the very same people that Democrats claim to love and care for so dearly.
Although no can really blame Republicans for crowing about this targeting of low wage earners (Why not? It kind of makes Democrats look bad) but there is plenty of hypocrisy here for the Maine GOP, as well.
Sure, sure, sure . . . Mills has also set her sights on some other relatively easy targets for additional revenue.
After all, we can’t expect the smokers to live long enough to become a reliable revenue stream for our ever-increasing state budget. Many of these folks can’t even walk down a grocery aisle without coughing and feeling out of breath.
In addition to an increased cigarette tax, Mills and her gang are also eyeing increased taxes on streaming services such as Netflix and Spotify; as well as a four percent increase on cannabis taxes.
Nobody – except other smokers – really likes cigarette smokers.
That’s okay. The stoners won’t even notice that they are paying more for weed while watching back-to-back reruns of Breaking Bad.
Right on cue, Republicans have stepped forward to skewer the governor for supposedly hurting the very same people she claims to care so much about.
“We’re already one of the highest taxed states in the country so we don’t see a need to increase any taxes,” House minority leader Rep. Billy Bob Faulkingham said, according to a story filed by WMTW-TV.
In that same news story, Mills defended her decision to go after smokers for additional revenue.
“Let me just say Maine has the highest adult smoking rate and the second highest youth smoking rate in New England, Mills told reporters. “We also have the cheapest cigarettes of nearly every state in New England, and we haven’t raised the cigarette excise tax in two decades.”
In her defense, Mills makes some excellent points.
There is no question whatsoever that people who smoke on a regular basis are much more likely to develop serious health problems.
They say that no one is more stridently opposed to cigarettes than former smokers. That may be true.
Up until just a few years ago, I smoked more than two packs of unfiltered cigarettes every day. It was a habit I started during basic training in the U.S. Air Force. The guys who smoked got frequent breaks while the rest of us did not.
When I quit smoking in 2016, the owners of 3Ds Variety on Main Street in Biddeford filed for federal relief funds to help offset the loss of revenue. (Relax, that is a joke). At that time, I was spending roughly $20 per day to support a habit that benefitted no one, especially me.
Last year, I did some rough calculating. By quitting smoking, I saved more than $45,000. But by then, some irreversible damage had already been done.
I lost several of my upper and lower teeth near the front of mouth. Remember that kid playing the banjo in the movie Deliverance?
Yeah, well — that kid has more of his teeth than I do. I will have to wear partial dentures every day for the rest of my life or figure out how to consume all my meals through a straw.
I don’t blame the Air Force or the R.J. Reynold’s Tobacco Company for the damage I caused by choosing to smoke.
I am also not holier than thou when it comes to addictive behavior. If I found myself unhoused, with no family, no car and sleeping outside in freezing weather, I’m pretty sure that I would pick up the habit again.
Yup, smokers have a pretty weak lobby in the Legislature. And most people – Democrats and Republicans — will likely support a tax increase on cigarettes.
As the old saying goes, “smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.”
Editor’s Note:If you or someone you know wants free help in quitting smoking, please visit theMaine Quit Link
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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.
With the 132nd Legislature now officially underway and facing a state budget shortfall, members of Biddeford’s legislative delegation are preparing for what is expected to be a battle of spending priorities.
Members of Biddeford’s delegation are all Democrats, the party that holds a solid majority in both the House and Senate; as well as the Blaine House where Gov. Janet Mills is now serving the final two years of her second term in office.
Last week, Mills presented lawmakers with a proposed two-year budget that is roughly 10 percent higher than the current $10.5 billion budget.
Mills has also cautioned lawmakers that the state will need to be especially prudent with its spending because of a potential $450 million deficit.
State Sen. Henry Ingwersen (D-Arundel) represents Biddeford in the 35-member state senate. During a telephone interview on Sunday, Ingwersen said he is still going through the details of Mills’ proposed budget, which was released on Friday.
Sen. Henry Ingwersen
“I haven’t yet gone through all the fine print, but there is no question that we have our work cut out for us,” Ingwersen said.
Adding to his workload, Ingwersen has also been named as senate chair of the Health & Human Services Committee, which has the biggest impact on the state budget in terms of spending, especially for the growing MaineCare program.
The MaineCare program provides free and low-cost health insurance to residents who meet certain income guidelines
“Maine people have clearly shown support for the expansion of MaineCare, but we also have a tighter budget and facing increasing demand for services,” Ingwersen said. “It’s going to be a challenge for all of us.”
State Rep. Marc Malon (D-Biddeford) agreed with Ingwersen about the daunting budget process.
“We have to be willing to examine everything, but it’s also important to note that some of our past spending increases have provided Maine people with really good outcomes,” Malon said, pointing to the state’s relatively new commitment to provide 55 percent of local education costs in the General-Purpose Aid (GPA) for education budget.
It’s going to be a balancing act, but it will not be impossible.”
— State Rep. Marc Malon
Like Ingwersen, Malon is also beginning his second, two-year term in the Legislature. Malon will again serve on the Legal and Veterans Affairs Committee and was appointed this year to serve on the Housing Committee.
Rep, Marc Malon
“Despite some of the challenges we’re facing, I firmly believe that we will be able to deliver a balanced budget without tapping into our ‘rainy day’ fund,” Malon said. “It’s going to be a balancing act, but it will not be impossible.”
Malon said he has submitted nine bills for consideration, including one that will likely breeze through the legislative approval process.
Malon is the primary sponsor of a bill that would allow the cities of Biddeford and Saco to rename the bridge at the bottom of York Hill in honor of the late Gen. Wallace Nutting, a Saco native who became Biddeford’s mayor after an extraordinary military career.
That bill, LD 79, has already been referred to the Joint Transportation Committee and is being co-sponsored by every member of the Biddeford-Saco delegation, including Ingwersen; Sen. Donna Bailey of Saco; Reps. Marshall Archer and Lynn Copeland of Saco and Reps. Ryan Fecteau and Traci Gere of Biddeford.
Malon has also submitted bills intended to improve state review of proposed housing projects, new regulations related to medical cannabis sales and a bill that could place some limits on local real estate taxes by assessing only a parcel’s land value.
Although the budget will consume much of the conversation, lawmakers on both sides of the aisle say housing issues will be a top priority for the Legislature.
“Housing really affects so many other things,” Malon said. “Businesses need workers, but those workers need homes in proximity to their workplace. We need affordable housing, but we also need to increase our supply of modest starter homes that allow young families the opportunity to start building equity.”
To address the housing crisis, Malon says state and local leaders will need to look at and reconsider certain zoning restrictions and find ways to cut red tape for builders and developers.
“It’s not going to be an easy two years,’ Malon said. “But it’s not going to be the end of the world either. Maine has faced tough budgets before. We will get through this, keep our commitments to Maine people by working together and being creative.”
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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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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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More than four years after it was opened, several Biddeford officials remain frustrated about how the city’s parking garage is being operated, saying the garage operators still have no incentive to increase efficiency and lower the city’s financial obligations.
Over the past year, the city has paid the garage owners nearly $570,000 in stabilization payments in order to guarantee a profit from the garage.
On Tuesday, the city council heard a presentation from Premium Parking, a New Orleans-based company that operates parking facilities all over the country.
Councilors said they were hoping to hear and see more “hard data” about how the garage is used and what can be done to lower the city’s ongoing financial commitment.
“We got a lot of icing, but I was looking for cake,” said Councilor Marc Lessard during an interview after the meeting. “There was no substance. They [Premium Parking] have no incentive to increase efficiency and lower costs.”
Under a contractual agreement with the garage developers, every six months the city is required to make a “stabilization payment” to the developers in order to guarantee a profit for the private company, regardless of customer usage.
In June of this year, the city paid $208,227 as a stabilization payment. Previously, in December 2023, the city paid $169, 695; and in June 2023 the city paid $191,246 to the developers.
During Tuesday’s council meeting, Charlie Grab, a “market president” from Premium Parking made a brief and rather perfunctory presentation to the council.
Grab, who has handled his company’s New England operations for roughly six months, was scheduled to appear in person but said he was ill and conducted his presentation via ZOOM.
Grab told the council that almost half of customers use smart phone cameras to pay for parking over the last three months. Use of the company’s mobile app has increased 47 percent Grab said while direct cash or credit card payments at a kiosk have decreased by 41 percent.
Grab also said that most customers use either the garage or surface lots for a duration of two hours, making up 56 percent of all transactions.
Earlier this year, parking at the Washington Street parking lot was reconfigured converting to more short-term parking versus day-long parking. Grab described that change as a “nice success story” by doubling revenue at that lot.
But once again, Grab was somewhat vague when asked for recommendations about how to improve efficiency and usage at the garage.
Grab said many other communities with an open-roof garage use the space for things such as “beer festivals” and “pickle-ball tournaments.”
Grab also said his company is working on “an outreach effort” in order to form partnerships with downtown business owners and possibly creating a “newsletter” to explain how the garage operates as well as “fine tuning” signage.
Councilor Roger Beaupre said he was less than impressed after the presentation.
“It’s just the same old story,” Beaupre said. “It seems to be a constant problem. They have no incentive to do anything because they are guaranteed a profit.”
During his campaign to become the city’s mayor, then city councilor Marty Grohman had strong words for Premium Parking, promising to “get tough” with the garage operators and have them appear before the council on a regular basis.
“It seems to be a constant problem. They have no incentive to do anything because they are guaranteed a profit.”
— City Councilor Roger Beaupre
On Tuesday, the mayor’s tone about the garage and surface lots was markedly different, saying the company has been “very responsive” and saying that he liked their ideas for increasing usage.
Council President Liam LaFountain also said he was hoping to drill further down in the data and hear more concrete solutions on Tuesday.
LaFountain pointed out that the council – in August 2023 — asked City Manager Jim Bennett to provide the council with some ideas about parking companies that could be used in Biddeford.
Bennet said “things were going well” and that he basically forgot about the council’s request.
Betsy Martin, a senior citizen advocate and chair of Age Friendly Biddeford, said she has received a lot of negative feedback about the garage.
She suggested that the city should implement a shuttle service between the garage and downtown because “it’s not an easy walk” for seniors.
Grab said that he would personally attend the council’s next meeting in January.
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LESSONS IN MEDIOCRITY 