School consolidation update

I’ve been interested in rural issues for quite some time; part of this comes from living in a state, when classified using various criteria and methods, almost always ends up with a rural designation. Plus, other than Portland, there is no area of the state that has what could be called an “urban” vibe.

Additionally, reading Wendell Berry helped root my philosophy squarely in the camp of the rural, rather than the urban. Other writers, like Edward Abbey and to a smaller degree, Barbara Kingsolver, have helped me to understand that community is fostered by an approach that connects people to the land and ultimately, place.

Having spent quite a bit of time of late in rural western Maine and seeing some entrepreneurial educational models that work, I’ve grown increasingly concerned that the governor’s push towards consolidation and ultimately, the regionalization of the state’s schools, is detrimental to areas, like Franklin County and other rural areas of the state. Overly simplistic and concerned merely with what looks like a winner on paper, as in big=efficient, Maine—already lagging behind many other states in preparing its 21st century workforce—will continue to fall further behind if this consolidation boondoggle flies.

From the blog at Rural Matters, I found this older post (posted in February), which points out some flaws in Governor Baldacci’s plan for consolidation; like the plan has no data to support it—but why should that deter the Guv? Having determined that this will work, irrespective of data, all indicators point out that it’s full speed ahead on the plan, education quality and rural communities be damned!

BTW, successful small school models don’t work well only in rural Maine, either, as this report points out.

This is not a beach blog

[Following Maine's "tourism road"

[Headed to Reid State Park]

[Surf's Up!]

[Beach Accoutrements]

[Beach Currency]

In an earlier post, I made much ado about forsaking the dusty diamonds of the Twilight League to spend a summer of leasure, sitting under an umbrella and relaxing by the sea, at Maine's abundant beaches. That was back in May and over the past six weeks, with lawn mowing, rainy weekends, a garage sale and a book signing last week, opportunities for dipping my toes in the Atlantic have totalled one--a trip to Popham Beach back on June 16.

Fortunately for me and the missus, this Saturday, our calendars were empty and the weather was sunny and warm, so off to Reid State Park we headed.

For those unfamiliar with Maine, Reid State Park is located in Georgetown, about 13 miles south of Bath (on Route 127). Leaving the well-travelled Route 1, normally choked with tourists this time of year, 127 winds its way past beautiful views of marshes and other scenic vistas, as it passes over numerous eddys and estuaries on the way to the state park.

Sitting on 700 acres of beautiful rocky coastline, juxtaposed next to saltwater marshes and ample tree growth, Reid State Park was Maine's first State-owned saltwater beach, with the land coming as a gift from Georgetown businessman and philanthropist, Walter E. Reid. Reid, who made his money in shipping, wanted to leave a lasting gift for the people of Maine, so he donated this diverse coastline habitat to the state, in 1946. Fortunately for Mainers of modest means, men like Reid have left us permanent access to our state's coastline, which at some point, with oceanfront property being snatched up by wealth out--of-staters, will probably be limited to just a few state parks. In light of this, Reid's gift takes on an even greater importance.

The state park has always held a special place in the hearts of Mary and I. Back in the day, nearly 30 years ago, when we first started dating (our 25th wedding anniversary is just around the corner), Reid was one of our favorite beaches to hang out at. Over the years, we've made trips back with our son, Mark and now, when we return, it is always a place filled with warm memories and meaning for both of us.

Yesterday, with temperatures right around 80, with a slight overcast, it was nearly the perfect beach day, weatherwise. If not for a rather sensitive sunburn on my shoulders, obtained by wearing a cutoff and no sunscreen, the day was exactly what the doctor ordered. Five hours of seaside bliss and ample time to pore over some back issues of magazines and fit in a little bit of reading of Ruth Moore's, The Walk Down Main Street, where the late Maine icon's fictional account of Maine High School basketball captures life Downeast, back in the day (probably the 1950s).

My two cents worth

I'm still ticked off about the poorly done feature on Skowhegan that NPR ran last Tuesday (July 3). While I don't know if the locals generated much in the way of protest, or at least some old-fashioned indignation, for my own sense of propriety, I had to fire off a letter, even though it's taken me a week to find some time.

While a part of me understands that journalism in general has taken a turn towards the trivial and is more concerned with its entertainment value than actually capturing the truth of the story, the other half is somehat surprised that even NPR appears to have relaxed its usual standards. Just one more sign that Empire USA is on the downward slope.

Here are my thoughts sent NPR's way, about some lousy journalism (in my opinion) on the part of reporter Adam Davidson.

I'll let you know if I hear anything back from NPR; I'm not holding my breath, waiting.


July 12, 2007


NPR Features Editor
635 Massachessetts Avenue, NW
Washington, DC 20001

RE: Skowhegan Feature


Dear Sir or Madam:

I am writing to express my disappointment with last Tuesday’s (July 3rd) overly negative feature story on Skowhegan, Maine. Your reporter, Adam Davidson, didn’t seem interested in presenting an honest and balanced story. Typically, as is often the case when reporters visit rural America, Davidson latched on to anything he could find that painted Skowhegan as a rural backwater—substance abuse and pregnancy among teens and of course, domestic violence.

I’m not sure how much time Davidson spent in the area, but I’m guessing it wasn’t very long at all. I have been told by some locals that they were originally contacted and told that he would only be in town for one day and if they couldn’t do the interview that day, then they wouldn’t be given an opportunity to present their side, one that probably would have contrasted with Davidson’s. While I don’t know the details of his trip, the shoddiness of the feature seemed to indicate a paucity of time on the ground, in the Skowhegan area.

I’m not a resident of Skowhegan, but I feel like I know the town, mainly from spending time in the area in my role as a business liaison and workforce trainer, helping to raise the skills of the local workforce. While many of Skowhegan’s lucrative industries of yesteryear—shoes, lumber and paper—don’t offer the same opportunities that they did 30 years ago, Skowhegan and the surrounding towns of Somerset County are not in the dire straits that Davidson portrayed. While I don’t live in Skowhegan, I’ve lived in Maine for most of my 44 years and have also spent part of the past five years freelancing stories about Maine as a journalist, not to mention writing a 300 page book on small town Maine. I also grew up in a mill town very similar to Skowhegan, so I think I know about what I speak—Mr. Davidson, on the other hand, obviously knows very little about the people of Skowhegan, Maine, but even worse, shows very little concern about his subjects beyond that they are a means to end—pawns to be manipulated in order to file a story.

The county is fortunate to have an economic development director of the quality of Jim Batey, who conducted a series of public forums this spring that were lively, informative and provided some optimism for the future. Certainly, he would have been someone that I might have taken the time to talk to, if not in person, then certainly with a phone call. I’m sure that Mr. Davidson has a land line phone wherever he’s based, or certainly, cell phone service to facilitate follow-up interviews that NPR-caliber journalism should require.

While I would agree with part of Davidson’s assessment, particularly concerning jobs that have gone away and that there are elements of social dysfunction, I don’t think Skowhegan is much different than other areas of Maine, or rural parts of the U.S. In fact, I have seen some many positive elements in addition to Mr. Batey and his role in attracting economic opportunities to the area.

Recently, a public/private partnership between local businesses, the local workforce investment board, community economic development organizations such as CEI and members of the Skowhegan education community, the local community college, as well as the local CareerCenter, helped to pilot a training initiative called WorkReady, which offered a three week soft skills training program, preparing out-of-work and underemployed individuals for opportunities with local employers. This program, foundational in nature, is helping to raise the skills of the local workforce and help equip them for additional training, such as employer-specific training at Kennebec County Community College, or plug them directly into existing jobs locally, if appropriate. Sadly, Mr. Davidson didn’t do his homework, or prepare to highlight anything but the typical and hackneyed, which Mainers have come to expect from journalists from the big city, who come here occasionally, to file reports on the natives and entertain many of the liberal elites that make up NPR’s listenership.

I felt compelled to write this, as I don’t appreciate yellow journalism of any type, particularly when the perpetrator goes out of his way to tar and feather good people, trying to overcome tough times with their typical Yankee resolve and toughness and ingenuity.

In the future, if you are interested in representing what’s really going on here in the Pine Tree State, give me a holler and I can hook you up with several honest journalists that will provide you with some real reporting that Mainers respect and value.

Sincerely,



Jim Baumer

cc: Adam Davidson

Watch out, or I'll sue your ass!

Change is hard to accept, particularly when those changes represent the loss of local culture and is driven by those from “outside.”

To anyone, but the most obtuse among us, much of Maine, from the southern border, throughout York and Cumberland Counties and down the Midcoast, is experiencing profound change, beyond mere growth and development.

Fellow Maine blogger and friend, Wisdom Weasel, recently recounted an editorial, appearing in his local newspaper, from a lobsterman, lamenting being forced to move his fishing gear from his property, as a result of a lawsuit. It almost is beyond belief, for those of us who grew up in these parts and remember the days when a local’s storage of his tools of his trade would never result in a lawsuit. Heck, people never considered hiring a lawyer to solve their spats, or for anything at all. Then again, being a lawyer back then wasn't necessarily an easy path to a McMansion, foriegn sports car and a fancy office suite. So much for the “good ole’ days.”

Apparently, there is a bit more to the story than what the lobsterman, Jed Miller, chose to reveal in his letter to the editor, at least that’s what I gathered in reading a comment made to WW’s post. According to “Mike,” who posted a comment in relation to Miller’s claim, Miller purchased his property as part of a subdivision and should have been aware of these covenants. Since these covenants were in place at the time of purchase, Mr. Miller is just SOL (my paraphrase).The commenter, “Mike” is probably from “away,” if I had to make an educated guess. He just sees this as part of the process of buying property in today’s world of subdivisions and sprawl. He is certainly entitled to his opinion. In fact, his opinion is now the majority opinion, at least along the Midcoast, as those from away now outnumber the natives. So life goes in the Pine Tree State.

While I’ve been accused of hearkening back to some nostalgic bygone time that never existed here in my beloved state of birth, I’m not so sure that accusation flies here. I’m not looking back to some “golden” age, but just one less litigious and not assured that legalese can solve every argument and encroachment. Of course that’s probably wishful thinking, as capitalism, in its most amped up form seems to lend itself to greed, avarice and trying to pull a fast one on your neighbor, whether it’s the gilded environs of Spruce Head, or the mean streets of downtown Lewiston.

BTW, if you aren’t making Weasel’s blog a regular stop, then you are missing out on an entertaining and often, educational read, not to mention a primer on all things British.

Dogs do deserve better

[The Mayor says, "just say no to to chains"]

Seeing dogs chained outside, in all types of weather, has always bothered me. Unknown to me, until this morning, is an organization with good intentions—raising people’s awareness about the plight of the many dogs that are left outside, chained, often with little, or no shelter, or even water.

Dogs Deserve Better was founded in 2002, by Tammy Sneath Grimes, who wanted to raise awareness about the issue and find concrete ways to improve the lives of countless dogs that spend their lives tethered to a length of chain.

We’ve all seen these dogs—chained to a tree, a doghouse, a metal post, or an old car. This unfortunately is the fate of millions of canines, nationwide. In rural states like Maine, this is an all-too-common site.

A decade ago, when I was a field service rep for the state's largest electric utility company, I saw countless dogs all over the region, living a life of deprivation, yoked to a chain, or heavy cable. Many of these dogs were far from friendly. Dog experts agree that chaining dogs increases their level of aggression.

According to Rolan Tripp, affiliate professor of animal behavior at the College of Veterinary Medicine at Colorado State University, "Rather than protecting the owner or property, a chained dog is often fearful for itself, particularly poorly socialized dogs or those with a previous negative experience."

Tripp adds, "When tethered and exposed to a potentially threatening stimulus, one thing the dog definitely knows is, `I can't get away.' In that circumstance, a reasonable response might be, `Therefore I'm going to try and scare you away by growling or, worse yet, biting.' "

That was my experience, numerous times. For whatever reason, this was especially prevalent in areas of Maine where fishermen tended to congregate—places like Harpswell, Phippsburg, particularly the Sebasco (beyond the summer estate) and West Point areas and areas on the Boothbay peninsula. I’m sure if I begin paying particular attention, I’ll notice more of this in my travels around much of my current service area that I roam in my current non-profit role.

I think I was more aware of it then, because I was entering private properties, particularly areas near the power meters. This was an especially popular place to locate a chained dog. I found that many of these sadistic SOB’s that found chaining a dog humorous, also thought it was funny to see the power guy have the wits scared out of him, or even worse, get nipped (which happened to me more than once, two times resulting in visits to the ER). I also developed fairly strong opinions about the character of a so-called fellow human and the way he/she treated dogs. A fairly accurate maxim that I've adopted--never trust a human that could mistreat a dog, as they'll end up turning on you, or visiting harm upon you at some point.

The first time I got bit, I found myself being angry at the dog, but once I had a chance to process this intellectually, I knew that this dog was merely reacting to his circumstances—the dog’s equivalent to spending all, or at least most of his/her life in solitary confinement—certainly deemed cruel and unusual by many prisoner rights advocates. On numerous occasions during my stint with the power company, particularly during the summer months, I found myself filling water bowls and trying to engage dogs that didn't pose a danger to me. During those times, I was always overcome with sadness, as I empathized with the plight of this poor creature, knowing that he/she had no chance of a quality existence.

Later, when we got a dog of our own (my first dog, ever), I marveled at the intelligence and human similarities that dogs possess. In fact, it might be argued that dogs are most like humans, at least among domesticated animals (sorry you cat lovers). I began to think more like a dog than ever, trying to empathize with his needs and what he was trying to communicate to me. I know I never ever thought about tying him up; well, let me back up, just a bit.

When Bernie was a puppy, we bought a nice dog run, with a long lead. We figured this might be an easier way to keep tabs on his whereabouts, when we were outside with him. Never did we intend to leave him outside for extended stays.

We set the run about 100 feet from the house, between to sturdy shade trees. Once clipped in, you’ve never seen such a pathetic reaction. Bernie just lied down and looked at us with the saddest two eyes we’ve ever seen. I tried to coax him to run back and forth, to no avail. It was clear to my wife and I that this would not work for this gregarious Sheltie, who just lived to follow us around wherever we went. In fact that run still sits unused in our shed, used that one time, some 13 years ago. It didn't take us long to figure out that this type of dog hated to be segragated from us and that's how he viewed being tethered to his run.

Whether you chain your dog outside, or not, I hope you look over the website, particularly the "Tips for a Safe and Happy Dog" section. All dogs deserve humane treatment, because after all, they really are man’s (and woman’s) best friend.