Our Daily Bread

Issues around our food—local vs. corporate sources and the nature of how and where it’s grown—may represent some of the most basic and yet, important questions we can address as Americans and/or westerners. Discussions about how our food gets on our plates (or into the polystyrene containers at McDonalds) get to the very basics of where we are at and where we might be heading, as we plow deeper into the 21st century.

For nearly three years, I’ve been receiving periodic emails and updates from the Slow Food Portland email group that I’ve been a member of. While I’m not terribly active in the group, particularly now that my daily orbit finds me north of Portland most of the time, Monday through Friday, the information that comes across the transom via this group is rarely not worthwhile. The periodic events that I hear about are always worth considering. Too often, I’m not able to attend. Last night, however, Mary and I finally were able to get out to one and it was wonderful.

Brunswick’s Frontier Café, along with Crystal Spring Farm, also in Brunswick, hosted a Food + Journey Tour and Picnic Dinner, held at Crystal Spring (part of the Brunswick-Topsham Land Trust).

Our connection with Crystal Spring comes from Mary’s regular trips to the farm nearly each Saturday for their abundant and varied farmer’s markets that are held there. Featuring many local growers and other food vendors, this has become one of our favorite sources for locally grown food. When I received the Slow Food email, it seemed like a logical thing to do, seeing we had nothing on the calendar, to get out into nature and learn a little more about one of our food sources. Plus, the thought of meeting other people who probably shared some of the same values we had around food was also a selling point.

The weather couldn’t have been any better. Arriving just before the start of the tour, the late day sun shown brightly over the green fields, pregnant with the abundance of the farm's rich late summer cash crops. The crisp, fall-like air, requiring a jacket or sweater, seemed fitting and harvest-like, creating the perfect arena for our walk across the grounds and out into the growing portion of the farm.

The farm’s manager, Seth Kroeck, along with two other local growers, provided a low-key, but informative environment for learning more about local food production. For anyone without knowledge of where thier food is grown and what’s involved, this was a great introduction. For others, like my wife and I—amateur growers, but learning all the time—it was a chance to acquire an even better understanding of what local agriculture is and what it means for our area. It also helped to validate many of the conscious decisions we’ve made over the last decade to support local farmers, ranging from buying local, at supermarkets, farmer’s markets and food stands, our participation in two CSA’s, as well as frequenting restaurants and others that support local food producers.

Kroeck, a very unassuming host and soft-spoken, gave a good overview of what life as a small local farmer is like. He talked about the growing process, how he’s added sheep to the farm and the role that animals play in farming, as well as touching on some of the bigger issues related to organic entities, like Whole Foods and others and the potential issues local farmers are facing in selling their food and making a living from the land.

Two other local farmers, Nate Drummond and Gabrielle Gosselin, from Six River Farm, in Bowdoinham, were along on the tour. These two farmers, just completing their first year running their own operation, are farming a parcel of land on what was once Harry Prout’s farm, on Merrymeeting Bay. When Prout got too old to farm, about a decade ago, his land was acquired by a gentleman who wanted to keep this rich parcel of land in production and more specifically, given to organic farming practices. Through Maine FarmLink, which is a farm transfer program that connects farmers seeking farmland with retiring Maine farmers and farm owners who wish to see their agricultural lands remain active, Nate and Gabrielle were able to locate this small, six-acre parcel of land, where they are growing organic vegetables. They also participate in the Saturday farmer’s market that is held at Crystal Spring, bringing their produce and connecting with local people who value locally-grown food. They represent what Maine FarmLink’s intent has been—to stem the tide of sprawl and maintain the state’s agricultural heritage for now and hopefully, the future.

The tour alone would have been worth the trip, but upon returning to the barn, a feast fit for a king had been prepared by Finn MacDonald, Frontier’s arts and events director and Loryn Kipp, who is the Café’s food director and heads up outreach, like this Food + Journey.

From the start, which consisted of fresh, organic carrots, halfed, for dipping in a wonderful, homemade, ranch-style dip, to bread and cheese, to the main course of beef and lamb burgers, tomatoes, potatoes, eggplant, various chutneys, pickled beets, washed down with organic wine, beer, or just plain water, this was a great way to end the evening.

What was particularly gratifying for Mary and I and I think the 25, or so other people who participated, was the conversations that were struck up, by previous strangers, around food, its production and the accompanying issues associated with this topic. We met other writers, teachers, people who had come to Maine from other states and even countries (New Zealand). There was a couple from Damariscotta, who are documentary filmmakers, in the midst of producing a film about local food and all its attendant issues.

In an era when community, centered around food and conversation doesn’t happen enough, I felt fortunate that Mary and I had availed ourselves of this wonderful opportunity. I know we came away enriched and satiated. Better yet, we got to connect a little more with people who share similar values.

[The only “downside” of the entire evening was that I didn’t bring my camera to capture a few photos and in particular, the breathtaking vista we got to view on our walk back to the barn, at dusk. Oh well—there will be future opportunities to do some shutterbugging—JB]

Pining for the Pine Tree State

There is really something unique about Maine. Yes, our wages are too low and depending on the statistics you use to boost your ideological bent, our taxes are too high. If you send regular checks to the Maine Heritage Policy Center, in your opinion, they are the sole reason Maine lags behind the rest of the nation. For some of us, lagging behind isn’t necessarily a bad thing, when it comes to crime, population density, or even shopping malls (save for southern Maine).

Many times, natives don’t realize what they have. Oh, our state is far from perfect that’s for sure. But, we are a hell of a lot more pristine and have a measure of life quality that most points south of here don’t have. For many locals however, it’s become a classic case of “you don’t know what you got, ‘til it’s gone.” Some bitch and complain about the Pine Tree State, but when viewed from afar (or from a plane, upon one’s return), it’s not out of the ordinary to find oneself reciting Dorothy’s mantra, “there’s no place like home.”

While the Brookings-Growsmart on the state indicated that many Mainers had an overriding sense of negativity, many that come here “from away” appreciate what our state has to offer—often more so than those who’ve never been anywhere else.

It is easy to get “tunneled in” and taken by naysayers, but time away, particularly in an urban setting, makes one appreciate the return passage north, high above the Piscataqua to life, the way it should be.

Katherine Lesser’s op ed in yesterday’s Maine Sunday Telegram illustrates my point. I’m not sure where Ms. Lesser grew up, but she obviously had familiarity with Maine. She mentions reading Edna St. Vincent Millay as a teenager. As an adult, she found herself settled in Brooklyn, yet longing for a way to call our state home.

Ms. Lesser writes, “Many years of going to alumni reunions at Bowdoin (her husband graduated from Bowdoin) and vacationing in Maine followed. Many of these vacations were six- day sailing trips on Penobscot Bay. We sailed out of Rockland on the schooner Heritage.

Happy days on the Heritage included mornings observing a pair of loons, eagle parents feeding their young in their nest and glorious evening sunsets. Each night was spent in a quiet and beautiful cove. We took a trip Down East, to Lubec and Eastport, and visited Campobello Island. A highlight was an overnight in Machias, where we saw nesting eagles on the Machias River.

Driving to Maine, we would take a deep breath as we were leaving New York City to stop briefly in Connecticut, coast through Massachusetts and become eager as we arrived in Portsmouth, N.H. As we crossed the Piscataqua River bridge into Kittery, I always let out a cheer. I breathed better, and my skin felt different.”

She goes on to recount finally being able to move to Maine and settle in Portland. Friends and colleagues in New York, as well as locals, ask her why she chose to move to Maine? As if living in an urban setting is all that life’s about.

Interestingly, the trolls that comment via online forums (anonymously, I might add) have begun weighing in with vitriol, intimating that people like Ms. Lesser, choosing to settle in Maine“from away,” somehow are a bad thing.

While there are those who choose to come here from elsewhere and discount the culture and heritage of Maine and attempt to quash and quell local customs, I don’t see that being the case with this woman. In fact, it’s interesting, but I meet people all the time that are helping to preserve the culture of rural Maine and other areas of the state and more times than not, I find out that they came to the state from somewhere else and fell in love with it just the way it is.

I’m learning that not everyone who moves here from somewhere else is an enemy to our state and in fact, many people that have lived here forever are more apt to be part of the problem, rather than the solution.

Karl Hess and the political spectrum

On Saturday, I happened to have the television on, watching C-Span's Washington Journal program. The host was taking calls from only Republican callers on the topic of the party and a series of moderate (read, sane) Republicans called in. One of them made reference to Karl Hess, a key 60s political figure who I knew nothing about.

I spent a bit of time reading about Hess, who was an interesting figure, who swung from far right, to the far left, while in his 40s.

In the course of my research, ran across this older post on Wally Conger's blog, which is worth reading, if you have any interest in the whole left/right debate. Certainly, given that we're about a year away from selecting another president, I think it's worth pondering. Anyone else?

Larry Craig is not gay!

The saga of Senator Larry Craig, protector of the sacred covenant of marriage and avowed heterosexual, is an interesting one. Interesting and not really that uncommon. Like Craig, there are countless conflicted American males, married and furthering the façade of family values, the kind that proponents vehemently insist are dependent only on one narrow view of sex. These tenets must align with a narrow Judeo-Christian construct and involve acts exclusively between men and women, within the confines of marriage.

Men like Craig, battling sexual impulses, hardwired into their makeup, must compartmentalize those urges. Unfortunately for Craig, but more so for his wife and family, you can’t keep these impulses under cover forever. Eventually you get caught and in Craig’s case, your national coming out party takes place in an airport restroom. Now that really sucks (no pun intended).

Back in the day, when I was reclaiming the streets for God, or better, Jack Hyles, I met countless Larry Craigs, while spending some time in Al Capone’s old haunt of Calumet City, a place affectionately dubbed, "sin city." It was obvious to see why, upon my very first visit.

A group of bible college compatriots would spend Friday nights walking the streets, passing out tracts, witnessing for Jesus and preaching on street corners in this veritable den of iniquity. At that time (the early 80s, the area was notorious for narcotics, prostitution and whatever vice was your calling card), the main street consisted of a string of seedy bars and a shady cast of characters walking the streets. While a certifiable hayseed when I found myself in the Midwest, at 21, it didn’t take me long to know I wasn’t in Kansas (or better, Maine) anymore.

In looking back, I’m now aware that I had cursory contact with gay men growing up; it wasn’t until my first forays into street preaching, however, that I ever met supposed heterosexual men, on the prowl, clearly in the pursuit of one thing—gay sex, with anyone and as many men as they could find, each and every weekend, before going back home to wives and children who probably were unaware of their husband’s, or father’s double life.

Just like Craig’s public insistence that "I am not gay,” these men, once they found out what our mission was, would gather around and while some would give us a hard time and revile God and our brand of religion, many more of these men would pull us aside and insist on explaining to us what they were doing there, particularly that while there were other blatantly gay men men afoot, they were not homosexual in any way.

I’m sure that these men, many whom we came to know by name, realized that we weren’t fooled by their stories. Still, each and every week, they’d ask us to have a cup of coffee, to talk and tell us about their families, their work, their homes—all in an attempt to shore up their defenses, in their own minds. One gentleman began to insist on buying us dinner whenever we ran into him. When we’d tell him that we couldn’t accept, he insisted on doing this and if we didn’t acquiesce, he’d became angry and would stalk off.

One Friday night, we witnessed a man get thrown through a plate glass window and bleed to death right in front of us, despite attempts by one of the students, who was a former paramedic, to stop his bleeding until the police and rescue unit showed up. The Calumet City of that era was not a pretty place and I marvel that I never was harmed while there. I could certainly make a case for divine intervention on those experiences alone.

Even to this day, thinking back on some of the men that I met, it brings back memories of sorrow and sympathy that they couldn’t acknowledge their sexual orientation and had to live this obviously difficult double life. Whether looking for love on the mean streets of Calumet City, or in Craig's case, airport restrooms and who knows where else. I'm sure we will find out in time that Craig had his own personal Calumet City that he frequented. Also, I can only imagine the potential risks of STD and other transmittable diseases that Craig and these men in Calumet City exposed their wives to.

While part of me wants to condemn Craig, as he is obviously not telling the truth, based upon these firsthand experiences nearly 25 years ago, another part of me sympathizes for him. Even more so for his wife and his children. It’s sad that ideology, religion and other societal constraints force people into boxes that they can’t live in. Even worse, they allow themselves to become imprisoned and must resort to this awful life of lies and sexual russian roulette.

Maine's political ways get noticed

[Here's a provocative op ed from the Roanoke (VA) Times, about getting the money out of politics. The writer, Cabell Brand, references Maine's Clean Election Act.]

Let's get the money out of politics
by, Cabell Brand

The tragic collapse of the bridge on Interstate 35 in Minneapolis points out what I consider the basic problem in our American political system. The mayor of Minneapolis said, "Funds had not been available to keep the infrastructure of the United States in shape. We seem to have money for everything else."

Why is this? In Virginia, we recently saw the bitter arguments in our legislature about Virginia roads. A very simple solution was increasing the gasoline tax, but it was a tax increase. We worry about tax increases and lobbyists. The basic problem in each issue is money and politics. Let me explain.

The ineptitude of the federal government with disasters like Hurricane Katrina resulted partially from political cronies appointed to pay off campaign contributions. The problems with our health care system, and specifically the Medicare prescription drug legislation, are the influence of lobbyists from the insurance and pharmaceutical industry.

But the problem goes much deeper than this. Our politicians and our elected officials spend a major portion of their time raising money. The headlines about Republican and Democratic candidates for president emphasize how much money they have raised rather than what their policies are.

The weaknesses in our infrastructure go to every segment of our economy and society; 46 million people are without health insurance, including about 40 percent of all children.
America's society is now divided into two classes: the very rich and everyone else. What we always called the middle class is struggling today to make ends meet. The gap between rich and very poor is wider than ever.

The increasing problems of the middle class, with the loss of much of our manufacturing industry, may be inevitable with globalization. It has certainly been accelerated through NAFTA and fast-track foreign trade agreements, because of corporate pressure on our politicians -- Democrats and Republicans. Low-income people generally cannot make significant campaign contributions. It's the rich people, corporations and organizations that lobbyists represent that put undue pressure on politicians on every issue.

Select your favorite issue, any issue that requires government funding. Consider how the politicians would represent you, how they would vote differently, how they would think differently and how our policies could be more objective and realistic if they did not have to worry about raising campaign contributions.

If I could change one thing in our democratic political system it would be public financing of federal political campaigns for Congress and the president.

It's not just our road infrastructure that is deteriorating, but the funds for environmental issues, education, job training, student loans, national parks, investment in scientific research and so on. It's not immediately obvious how these problems directly relate to campaign contributions. But they do.

Getting the money out of politics would not get rid of the lobbyists, but it would reduce their effect on our legislation. Not making the politicians dependent on campaign contributions would let our elected representatives think more about the problems of the middle class, health care, low-income people and our country's infrastructure.

It's too bad that tragedies like Minneapolis have to happen before we give serious thought to infrastructure weaknesses and other problems in our society. Our society is crisis-oriented and not prevention-oriented. For example, very few health care programs, including Medicaid and Medicare, make provisions for physical examinations and basic health prevention issues.

This is the time to try to prevent bridge collapses and almost every other issue that depends on government revenue. Let's take the money out of politics and start a new movement toward public financing of federal political campaigns. Let's give our legislators an opportunity to develop realistic public policies.

The single biggest reason for public financing of federal political campaigns is that it would attract more qualified people into our political system. They would not be concerned with raising money. They could concentrate on getting support from our voting constituents.

Fortunately, some states have shown us the answer to this problem. Arizona and Maine have both passed public funding bills that are working very well. Both laws are voluntary, but more than 80 percent of Maine legislators now serve without having accepted any political contributions.

There is a bill in the U.S. Senate fashioned after the Maine law introduced by Sen. Dick Durbin, D-Ill., and Sen. Arlen Specter, R-Pa., and a similar bill in the House. Current presidential candidates should be questioned as to whether or not they will make this basic change in the operation of our federal government a priority if elected president.

Cabell Brand is a Salem businessman and founder of Total Action Against Poverty.