The kindness of others

“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” 

― Mark Twain

AUBURN — I am seeking revenge against a pair of Samaritans who had the gall to be nice to me.

Can you believe these guys! The nerve of them for being decent and kind people!

I want my pound of flesh (see Shakespeare). And remember, no good deed goes unpunished. 

It was an extraordinary act of generosity committed by two of the finest human beings to walk the planet.

Now I want to pay them back, and the only way I can is to return the favor and be nice to them, too. They won't see it coming, but no doubt they will be looking over their shoulders. They know I am out there, dreaming up some devious plan of my own act of kindness.

The two conspirators are named Mike and Don - two common names for two uncommon men who exude decency and integrity. These are smart guys who give a damn about the right in things in life. These are guys with common sense and believe in the greater good.

They have their heads on straight, which means they will never have a future in American politics. Their reputations are beyond reproach, and I wouldn't get within 10 feet of them if they weren't such wonderful human beings.

Here's what these guys contrived to trigger my tirade.

Don is my neighbor who offered me the heating oil in his tank at no charge to me. He made the wise choice to switch to natural gas, shaking off the shackles of greedy oil companies. He is a great guy who shares his vast knowledge with me, and I of course, can always use a few pointers as a home owner. 

Anyway, his oil tank needed to be removed as well as the oil in it. That's where Mike, a co-conspirator, comes in.

Mike is an adept plumber and another fine example of humanity. This young man served his country in the United State Air Force as a mechanic repairing the feared B-1 bombers in Saudi Arabia for 10 years. Mike's experiences in the Middle East remind me of T.E. Lawrence, who tried to unite the tribes at the conclusion of World War I.

Don needed a plumber and Mike needed work, and the both of them decided to be nice to me. The two also became friends, and like expatriate Rick Blaine and French inspector Louise Renault in "Casablanca," it just might be the start of a beautiful friendship.

Well, after Mike transferred the oil to my tank and removed Don's tank from his cellar, my honest plumber and friend knocked on my door to inform me the job was completed. He had quoted me a ridiculously reasonable price to transfer the oil a couple of weeks ago.

"Hey Mike, how much do I owe you," I asked.

"You are all set," he said with a wide smile.

We looked at each other. "C'mon, what do I owe you," I demanded.

"We settled it between ourselves," Mike explained.

That was it; the deal was sealed - without my say in the matter.

That meant I was on the receiving end of about $440.00 worth of free oil thanks to the kindness of two gentlemen. My tank is nearly full because of these thoughtful jokers.

I offered Mike coffee, paying for lunch, frozen vegetables from my garden and the keys to my car.

OK, well three can play at this game as I figure out how to respond to such kindness.

They better keep looking over their shoulders. I am going to get those guys and it will be pretty.

Goodfellows52: We're all shook up

Goodfellows52: We're all shook up: I feel the earth move under my feet I feel the sky tumbling down I feel my heart start to trembling  Whenever you're around - "...

We're all shook up

I feel the earth move under my feet

I feel the sky tumbling down

I feel my heart start to trembling 

Whenever you're around

- "I feel the earth move"  Carole King, composer

AUBURN - We happened to be standing together in the center of the parlor when we heard a roar and felt the entire house shake beneath our feet.

We stopped talking and stared at each other as the house rattled around us. The rumbling lasted for about 20 seconds.

My wife thought a tractor-trailer rolled across the front yard and just missed our home.

I figured our furnace was on the fritz.

Then I stepped outside to listen for one of the many freight trains that pass through Auburn every evening. 

There was silence. Everything was quiet.

I was no longer puzzled. I concluded that Maine and many parts of New England had just experienced earthquake, and it was a doozy by this region's standards.

My wife watched Facebook light up with people from across that state reporting that they also felt the ground violently shake.

They were not alone. It was a moving experience.

I tried to call my sisters in Massachusetts, but I couldn't get through due to the volume of calls.

This was one of those moments in my life when a phone call does a body good.

When I did reach them, my sisters were as excited as the rest of New England. Both my sisters thought they were going crazy when the quake struck. We ruled that out when we confirmed that a quake had just rocked the area.

Terri scanned Web sites, searching for any morsel of information that a strong quake had just rattled most of New England.

About 30 minutes later, we learned that a 4.0 earthquake shook up everybody across the Pine Tree State. The epicenter was located in Hollis Center, which located 20 miles west of Portland and 100 miles north of Boston.

Anthony and I headed outside with a flashlight to check for structural damage to the house. We did find small cracks in the cinder blocks of the foundation and the asphalt in my driveway developed a couple of small fissures. But a chisel and cement can fix the cracks. I wasn't concerned.

I experienced a smaller earthquake years ago when I was working at the Patriot Ledger in Quincy, Mass. I was on the second floor of the newspaper's offices when I notice my editor's computer screen rock back and forth, and he was not sitting behind it.

Over the past, three decades, I have felt the earth rumble underneath my sturdy legs three times, and an earthquake had nothing to do with those moments. My enduring marriage, the birth of my son and the death of my mother were events that rocked my world.

But on Tuesday, October 16, 2012, Mother Nature sent us all a stunning reminder that she has the final say when it comes to all matters of the Earth - and our lives. 

Goodfellows52: Sea of tranquility

Goodfellows52: Sea of tranquility: Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.                                   ...

Sea of tranquility

Why do we love the sea? It is because it has some potent power to make us think things we like to think.
                                                         - Robert Henri

PORTLAND — Staring out over an ocean without a cell phone at our disposal is not an issue for this family of three.

But I am willing to bet there are millions of poor souls who are tethered to technology and would find it impossible being alone with their thoughts and without a cell phone on a empty beach.

In an age of constant texting, Twittering, iPods, iPads, Facebook, television, radio and email, face-to-face conversations appear to be taking a back seat to social media. I will never understand it, and I am not going to make an effort to do so.

I have heard about the endless Tweets (I am not a subscriber) where somebody announces that they are standing on top of the Eiffel Tower. If I had an account, I might be tempted to write back: "Jump!"

Sure, this blog is coming to you from Auburn, Maine via the Internet. A handful of people from around the globe have seen or read it, and I thank you all for taking time out of your mind-numbing schedules to take a peek. I also understand technology isn't going away, and I do use it at home and at work.

I write because I enjoy it, and I hope you enjoy these essays, too, and if you are bored stiff, turn the page or move on to the next blog. I understand.

Like writing, I love exploring Maine's 3,478 miles of coastline and hiking the Pine Tree State's wooded trails without being intravenously hooked up to some form of technology. We often forget about our $10 Track Phone as we meander up and down the grassy paths. We purposely leave the damn thing in the car when we are on the beach. The last F--- thing I want is a phone call when I am about to plunge into the surf with my son.

Disappearing into the woods or sea is the only way I can find peace of mind in a world where an eight-hour news cycle is now eight minutes. Thanks to all this technology, we are multitasking and living life to the 100th power with no end in sight.

Whew! I get tired of thinking about it. 

That's why nature is rejuvenating and doesn't make me feel obsolete in this throw-away society.

It explains why this family of three hopped into the car and headed to Portland to traverse the Eastern Promenade's coast and inhale it's soothing sea breezes on a Columbus Day morning. My family is like a lifeboat in a raging storm of endless technology. They throw me a rope when I feel like I am about to go under.

It was a chilly 60 degrees, but there were plenty of friendly faces to wish us good morning as we all took our brisk walks. I like that — a face-to-face encounter with a polite stranger. That was as refreshing as the salt air. 

After touring the promenade, all three of us sat on a beach wall and didn't say a word. The cell phone was back in the car and we don't own an iPod. They were only few people walking the sand.

Just plenty of silence as we listened to the gentle surf lap the beach. Sometimes less is more and silence is golden.

And the absence of technology on a sunny, fall morning really is a beautiful thing.

Goodfellows52: Slamming the door on closure

Goodfellows52: Slamming the door on closure: Writer's note: Writing a book review is not my forte. This is a letter addressed to Nancy Berns who wrote a brilliant book called "Closur...

Slamming the door on closure

Writer's note: Writing a book review is not my forte. This is a letter addressed to Nancy Berns who wrote a brilliant book called "Closure." I found it fascinating. The book is an in-depth look at how "Closure" is overused. For a man who has suffered loss, I can assure you there is no closure for me. But this book is worth a good read from an author who did a fine job covering a lot of ground about this tired word. Here is a link to one of her lectures:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0rCfXSdYPE

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Dear Nancy Berns,

For me, there is no such thing as "Closure." It is a tired word used by media and grief-ravaged people looking for an instant end to their sadness that will never come. 

When it comes to death's stark finality, "Closure" and grief don't belong in the same sentence.

While I appreciate how you tackled this complicated subject, I believe grieving is a lifelong process with no end. I have discovered that I live with gnawing pain, but I refuse to permit grief to dominate my life.

That's why I find your book refreshing, eye-opening and well done.

I know you have suffered the most devastating loss of all — the death of your child.  I am truly sorry, because I know how much I cherish my son. You can read about our adventures at www.goodfellows52.blogspot.com.  Despite your heartbreak, I am glad you found a way to complete this book.

From a personal standpoint, using a stopwatch to time grief is a lesson in futility.

I lost my mother and nearly a dozen loved ones who shaped my life.  That parade of death continued with the demise our mothers, two friends who committed suicide due to this oppressive economy, and a former co-worker who was murdered — all in a period of just two years.

My mother's death was like having a house dropped on me. There is not a day I don't think about her. It has been nearly three years, and the thought of closure has never crossed my mind. I am not depressed or find myself curled up in the fetal position, but there is a huge sense of longing that continues to this day. 

I understand loss and that our deaths are inevitable. Like John Donne wrote: "Every man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind."

But whenever I hear the word "Closure" described as one of the stages in the grieving process, I shake my head.

It's really absurd.

I want to "close" out my letter with these thoughts. Your book was thorough and enlightening, but it confirmed my beliefs: There is no closure - just a lifetime of longing and endless sorrow tempered by time.

Thank you again, and I am sorry for your loss.

Sincerely,

Anthony Blasi

53 Valley Street

Auburn, Maine o04210

Goodfellows52: Sailing the seven seas

Goodfellows52: Sailing the seven seas: “ I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall sh...

Sailing the seven seas

“I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.”

 John Masefield quotes (British poet, 1878-1967)

BATH - There's a place where Maine's maritime history is on display and offers visitors a unique perspective on the life of hardy mariners, master shipbuilders, the state's shipping industry, and the role it played on the high seas.

Last Sunday, the Maine Maritime Museum threw open its doors to the public for free to celebrate its 50th anniversary. You could say our ship came in for this family of three. A visit would have cost us $40.00 for the day. That was generous of the museum to do this for a public who undoubtedly enjoyed its fine exhibits, the back drop of the Kennebec River and its life-affirming sea breezes.

My son has a passion for maritime history - especially naval vessels from all nations. For a baseball fanatic, this is like going to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox come undone.

A cool fall day and brilliant sunshine made for spectacular afternoon to catch a glimpse of the Bath Iron Works, which is just up the river from the museum. It took us nearly four hours see everything the museum offers. If you enjoy walking, love the ocean and all its lure, and had a secret desire to become a swabby and sail the seven seas, this is the place to spend a day.

There are numerous exhibits and illustrations inside the main lobby and there are also informative outdoor displays.

If you are a reader, it will take you about 90 minutes to visit the indoor exhibits. During our tour, the museum featured "The War of 1812" display,  cannon and a two-shot flint-lock pistol, two cannons from the HMS Boxer, gowns from the Saco Peace Ball, and Letters of Marque signed by President Madison. 

Model ships of the past will make you pause and stare as you marvel at these complicated exhibits. There is a large, working engine of a ship, whaling gear, a ship's doctor's surgical instruments, sabers and numerous pictures of Maine's maritime past. 

The gift shop has an impressive array of books about the maritimes.

For children, there are working displays, and what child wouldn't want to get behind the helm of a ship, watch a boat launch or tour a mansion.

Master Anthony aboard the Sherman Szwicker

One of the most impressive, working exhibits is the Sherman Szwicker - a sailing yacht that is a twin-mastered schooner built in Canada in 1942. It offers a great deal of room thanks to its deep draught, and the entire yacht is 142 feet long. It is beautiful sailing vessel that is moored at the museum.

The museum is also restoring a section of the Maine-built, American clipper ship, Snow Squall. 

According to the museum's Web site: "She made voyages all over the world, carrying valuable and time dependent cargoes. In 1864, she was heavily damaged trying to round Cape Horn and was abandoned in the Falkland Islands. Through conservation efforts, In 1987 she was brought back, a fragment of her former self, as a unique surviving artifact of the age of American clippers. The bow section and others parts of the Snow Squall were recovered and are now housed at Maine Maritime Museum."

The museum's location is so large it includes numerous outdoor exhibits. There is the Boat Barn that features small, sleek boats, and the Lobster Shack houses about dozen lobster boats.

Across from the museum sits the Donnell House - a roomy Victorian-era home. According the Museum's Web site, the home of shipbuilder William T. Donnell is being restored. You will marvel at its rooms and priceless furniture.

If you are drawn to the sea, then hop aboard and take cruise through time as the Maine Maritime Museum helps all visitors navigate the Pine Tree's ocean-going past.

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon: My splendid carrots and freshly grown gourds, which I call affectionally call gordo. AUBURN - My garden is coming to an abrupt end.  ...

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon

Goodfellows52: Harvest moon: AUBURN - There is strong evidence that my vegetable plants have been using performance enhancing fertilizer. My plants look lik...

Harvest moon

My splendid carrots and freshly grown gourds, which I call affectionally call gordo.

AUBURN - My garden is coming to an abrupt end. 

September's cool nights and fading sunshine means fall is taking over and squeezing out summer.

September is like a mafia thug closing in another crook's territory.

But my hardier plants hang on. I looked at my carrots and saw they were ripe for picking. My pristine soil has yielded a bumper crop of these tasty, orange wonders.

I began yanking carrots left and right and can't wait to throw them in the steamer Sunday. I will also blanch the rest of several giant zucchinis. I lost a bunch of tomatoes to blight.

But my carrots look just fine, thank you.

What a way to end a growing season that gave me one of the most spectacular gardens I have grown.

AUBURN - There is strong evidence that my vegetable plants have been using performance enhancing fertilizer.

My plants look like they have been juicing, and I would like to know where they got this illegal substance. 

There could be a huge scandal at 53 Valley Street, and the controversy could be comparable to the United States congress investigating Major League Baseball for steroid use

I might be forced to contact the proper authorities or go before a grand jury to testify against a bunch of vegetables that have given so much to me this summer.

There is no question my vegetables came across with the goods. 

I estimate, and this is no tall tale, I produced a bumper crop of 30 cucumbers, 30 summer squash, 20 zucchinis, a couple of hundred tomatoes, and I still haven't pulled my carrots. The broccoli and Swiss chard continues grow. I had about 300 blueberries because I trimmed them and offered words of encouragement.

But thanks to cool Maine nights and a drenching rain, my tomato plants have expired and everything has slowed down to a walk in my Garden of Eden. Right now, I still have Swiss chard, broccoli and carrots to pick until October. They are the hardiest plants in the fall.  I also had an abundance of pears and blue berries. 

Life was certainly sweet for gardeners in the Pine Tree State this season.

I have frozen about 20 pounds of summer squash and zucchini, and there is frozen tomato sauce lining the freezer in my refrigerator. 

I never fertilized my garden. The soil is that good. 

But I think there are two reasons why my garden was a success this season, and I swear by these two key ingredients.

I had plenty of wood ash to go around after my neighbor generously donated nearly 3,000 pounds for freshly cut ash.

After a bit a research, I was surprised to learn that wood ash in small amounts is beneficial to a vegetable garden. I began dumping the stuff on the garden throughout winter.

In the spring, I began spreading lush grass clippings and began using it to smother weeds around the plants, which took a lot of pressure off my back and knees.

But here's the deal when using my secret ingredients to nurturing a bountiful garden.

You can't burn crap in a wood stove and then apply its poison-ridden ash to an unsuspecting garden. And you can only use grass clippings if you didn't fertilizer your lawn.

Oh, and one more thing: Talk to your plants. Tell them you love them and want them to be good plants so that when they grow up, gardeners can be proud of them each growing season.

Look, gardening is a passion, and I enjoy eating vegetables that are not laced with pesticides. Besides, watching things grow alleviates stress in a world that is a mess for the moment.

Goodfellows52: Faire thee well

Goodfellows52: Faire thee well: "Become a student of change. It is the only thing that will remain constant."                                                    ...

Faire thee well

"Become a student of change. It is the only thing that will remain constant."                                                                                                                             Anthony J. D'Angelo

LEWISTON - Something spectacular happens when you gather a bunch of low-maintenance and intelligent kids and ask them to create technology projects that will spark a child's curiosity.

Anthony is member of this group who participated in Lego Robotics and solar powered cars competitions in junior high. 

That old gang from Auburn Middle School held a reunion, sort to speak, to demonstrate their knowledge of technology during the Mini Maker Faire at Bates Mill on Saturday afternoon.

Their inspiration came from a dedicated schoolteacher - Jim Rowe, who has been running this succesful program at AMS for years. 

There were other creative geniuses at work at the Faire. One young man built a working telegraph that caught Anthony's eye and there was a booth where participants were taught how to make toy airplanes out of styrofoam. There were also do-it-yourself wind-power projects and weaving.

All good stuff for creative minds.

And if you needed a break from looking all the demonstrations, a tour through Museum L-A is equally impressive. The museum documents the area's history of work and community.

Mr. Rowe helped supply the material for his formers students and helped them prepare of Saturday's event.

Watching this bunch of focused kids and how they went out their way to answer questions from children and adults was impressive. 

The guys even performed a couple of demonstrations, racing solar powered cars down the old floors of the Bates Mill.

I was proud of my son for pitching in to help make their demonstrations a success. His friends also went the distance to show other children that learning in and outside the classroom is a worthwhile endeavor.

Goodfellows52: September Mourning

Goodfellows52: September Mourning: "But now in September the garden has cooled, and with it my possessiveness.  The sun warms my back instead ...