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Monday, February 25, 2013

Goodfellows52: Cry uncle and let slip the fiscal fools

Goodfellows52: Cry uncle and let slip the fiscal fools: AUBURN, Maine — I am in the process of negotiating a truce with Mother Nature. I refuse, however, to offer the O...

Cry uncle and let slip the fiscal fools











AUBURN, Maine — I am in the process of negotiating a truce with Mother Nature. I refuse, however, to offer the Old Lady unconditional surrender.

No matter what the Old Girl has thrown at me this winter, I refuse to capitulate to this guiding force of creation. After all, the Old Gal has been more of a friend than a foe to this master gardener. Her feisty ways can make or break a garden. She was real good to me last season, allowing me to harvest nearly 300 pounds of vegetables.

But the Old Girl sure has it in for New England this winter. She backhanded us with another weekend storm that produced another foot of white gold for the skiers. 

I have really gotten to know my snow shovels and roof rake this winter. We have become close thanks to Mother Nature's winter whims. Couldn't do it without these handy tools and the generosity of several of my neighbors, who are like the Green Berets when the Old Gal lays down a barrage of heavy snow. They come heavily armed with snow blowers that move mountains of snow. In just minutes, five-foot walls of white stuff is cleared away, liberating me from shovel.

I will always be grateful to these good souls.

If it wasn't for their kindness, I would be entombed in my own backyard until spring.

The week before Mother Nature's latest production was a blizzard that dropped nearly 25 inches of snow and featured 50-mile-per-hour winds.

I don't want to jinx all of New England, but weather prognosticators are saying we should miss the next weekend snowstorm. 

I want that in writing!

But here is the trade off: Mother Nature will be serving up another snowstorm on Wednesday that might last for three days. They are talking about another foot of damn snow.

The Old Gal's fury apparently won't let up this winter.

But I am hoping the Old Lady honors our truce and goes easy on us this spring even though she has a mind of her own.

Fiscal fools

Sequester — to isolate or hide away — or a general cut in government spending.

Let's use the first definition and sequester Congress. Put them all in a convention center and keep them there until they can act like responsible adults who can make responsible decisions — and that goes for both parties.

Sure, the budget is a mess thanks to protracted wars in the Middle East and irresponsible leaders. But cutting off your nose to spite your face means a sequester might be the coup de grace to United State's fragile economy.

According to the New York Times, the sequester law requires President Obama to impose $85 billion in spending cuts to the military and domestic programs. That means federal employees would take a hit along with numerous education programs.

Just what the economy needs — more people out of work, and those job losses will cause a trickle-down effect that will be felt by all of us.

Perhaps Wednesday's next New England storm is just another omen for Friday's main event — sequester.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Goodfellows52: Super blowhards

Goodfellows52: Super blowhards: AUBURN, Maine — And so it begins — the endless, mindless chatter about Super Bowl XLVII. For those of you who live and die with the S...

Trench warfare

"You don't raise heroes, you raise sons.  And if you treat them like sons, they'll turn out to be heroes, even if it's just in your own eyes."  
~Walter M. Schirra, Sr.














AUBURN, Maine — I am fortunate to have a strapping 16-year-old son who has a strong back and an admirable work ethic.

He didn't flinch when he picked up a shovel and took on Blizzard Nemo, which roared through the Northeast on Saturday. For a small fish from Disney, Nemo sure had a lot of bite, dropping over two feet of snow on most of New England. This bastard of Northeaster lived up to all the hype and buried Auburn over a period of 36 hours. Nemo rivaled the Blizzard of 1978 when Boston was shut down for weeks. 

They say snow is a poor man's fertilizer. Then I guess I am set for the upcoming growing season.

But there was no hemming and hawing from a young man who didn't mind helping his dad clear away two feet of snow from two driveways. He didn't demand money or an IPod for his services.

He did it for dear-old dad, and I was proud of him for the way he braved the elements in a storm with whiteout conditions.

Anthony is a responsible young man who went the distance for his father the day before the storm would intensify. He helped bring in a half a cord of wood so we could keep the home fires burning in the event of a power outage.

He jumped right into the fray with three neighbors who should be canonized for their help with their Tiger-tank snowblower. Dan Levesque's two sons, Ryan and Mark, are two rugged brothers who treat mountains of snow as a mere annoyance. Dan, the patriarch of this good family, is an amateur geologist who appreciates the Earth's natural artworks — rocks. His collection is something to be admired. He is a smart guy with a kind heart. God don't make 'em any better and that's a fact.

Dan and family can look forward to fresh vegetables this summer from the guy next door, and that would be me  the master gardener of Valley Street.

For two hours on a wind-whipped Saturday afternoon,  Anthony and I plowed through snowdrifts to get to the car and cleared away a five-foot drift blocking the back door to our deck.

What really unnerved father and son was a five-foot high, six-foot wide wall of snow blocking both driveways. It would take hours with two shovels, but Dan headed toward my house with his monster blower and made mince meat out of the two Great White Walls of China.

And when all of New England embraced the warm sun on Sunday, Anthony and I were back at it, borrowing through 25 inches of snow to make paths around the house. We cleared the rest of the deck and driveway as temperatures soared into the upper 30s, which is considered to be a heatwave at this time of year.

It was spectacular storm, but what was more impressive is my 16-year-old who gave his old man a helping hand without giving it a second thought.



Sunday, February 3, 2013

Goodfellows52: Super blowhards

Goodfellows52: Super blowhards: AUBURN, Maine — And so it begins — the endless, mindless chatter about Super Bowl XLVII. For those who live and die with the San Fran...

Super blowhards


AUBURN, Maine — And so it begins — the endless, mindless chatter about Super Bowl XLVII.

For those of you who live and die with the San Francisco 49ers or the Baltimore Ravens, you will hang on every word for the next eight hours leading up to the game in The Big Easy — New Orleans — a city that has just about put Hurricane Katrina behind itself.

By the time 6:30 p.m. rolls around, most fans will be half in the bag and bloated from comfort food loaded with salt and short on nutrition. At that point, fans in your home will become annoying, tempting any host throwing a party to call the cops on spectators with slurred speech and loss of coordination.

The analysts will analyze every useless detail about the outcome of a football game that just might determine world peace or bring prosperity to a nation still caught in the throes of an economic debacle.

Well, not really.

CBS began its coverage of the Super Bowl at 11 a.m., when most people were having their second cup of coffee. This family headed for the gym to ignore the nonstop, verbal nonsense that can cause concussions that lead to serious brain damage from announcers who don't when to be quiet.

We will hear from the experts who will tell us: "The team that scores the most touchdowns will win the game. They have winning on their minds. The Ravens have only one shot to win the title."

No kidding! Such insight!

At home this afternoon, we turned to PBS World for the documentary, "For Love of Liberty: The Story of America's Black Patriots" who fought with honor for a nation that spurned them for decades.

You can't tell me that Jim Nantz's run-on thoughts about the Super Bowl are more profound than a documentary about black Americans who served their nation with pride. Look, these guys on CBS are good at what they do, but seven hours of blah, blah, blah about a sporting event sends me to the medicine cabinet for a dose acid reliever or Advil.

Years ago, I turned the sound down of the TV to listen to the raspy voice of Johnny Most, the ultimate homer, announce Celtics games because the guys on the tube put me to sleep. He made no apology for taking Boston's side when the refs called a foul against the Green Machine.

For two unbearable weeks, we have lived with 24-7 coverage of an event that, in truth, will not affect our lives in any way.

Some of the stories about the athletes have been touching and absurd.

I enjoy the stories about players who enjoy the serenity of knitting, crocheting or attending an opera. There are articles about athletes' favorite pets, meals, political affiliations, girlfriends, wives, daughters, sons, hair stylists, mechanics and their favorite movie. This compilation of needless information is as important as when I broke my favorite "Cheers" glass this morning.

I wept for hours over a glass that meant so much to this kid from the Greater Boston area.

And with the Patriots out of the picture, Super Bowl XLVII doesn't weigh heavily on my mind. I will take a politician's way out and root for both teams so I won't offend millions of ravenous 49ers and Ravens fans.

Will I watch the game tonight? I will, but I will do it on an intermitten basis.

But you can bet I am skipping all seven hours of this pre-game epic and a halftime show that will probably make my ears bleed from poor music. 

Out and about

Take a walk on the wild side around New England's outdoors. Come walk with my son and I as we explore state parks, historic sites, and creepy cemeteries. This is the good stuff in life, and there is nothing worth watching on television, anyway. Join us as we take advantage of Maine's beaches and pristine forests. In between our sojourns through the Pine Tree State, look for political insight and a few well-written opinion pieces as well.