Posts
Back in Waterville, at my favorite library. Actually, I've warmed to the place and realize that you don't bite the hand that provides free Wi-Fi.
I think I'm 'gonna find some BBQ in Waterville and report out at a later date.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Another Titlepage.tv episode
I just completed my second episode of Titlepage.tv (their actual episode #2), which highlighted four provocative young writers; Julie Klam, Sloane Crosley, Keith Gessen (Franzen's a fan--I'm impressed) and Ceridwin Dovey, who had her first book published while a doctoral student, in anthropology.All had an interesting take on books, particularly Klam (who actually had a gig at one point before writing her book, doing pop-up videos on VH1), talking about the completion aspect of writing a book. She spoke about books being different than other things (blogs, music videos, MP3s), “…a book actually happens; there’s something so satisfying (in the process) … if you sell your proposal, you actually have a book.”
It might end up on the remainder table, or discounted at Reny’s, or Marden’s, but you have a physical product that is validation of your efforts.
Sunday, April 06, 2008
Democracy's Durham cousin
[Pre-meeting planning by moderator and local officials]
[Durham's democratic true believers]I spent my Saturday morning at the annual Durham town meeting. Traditionally held the first Saturday in March, the town moved the meeting up to April, which may have contributed to the meeting’s sparse turnout.
My primary reason for attending was to do some first-person research for the new book and tie it to John Gould’s contribution to Pine Tree State history and his first book, published in 1940, New England Town Meeting: Safeguard of Democracy.
Gould’s book captured the flavor of five area town meetings during town meeting season, 1940, including Durham’s annual meeting that March.
Gone are the days when town meeting was as much an all day social event, as it was an exercise in democracy. I’ve lived in the town of Durham for nearly twenty years and I’ve witnessed first hand the changes that have diminished the importance of democracy’s most intimate vehicle. Fewer Durhamites than ever view the annual town meeting as duty not to be shirked, or easily brushed aside.
Like many former rural communities across the state, Durham has undergone monumental changes from the days when it was a sleepy farming village, on the other side of the river, from Lisbon Falls.
Friday night, I was one of just under 300 voters stopping off at Durham Elementary School to vote for selectmen, members of the planning board, local tax collector and other assorted municipal matters. This represented about 10 percent of the town’s registered voters. I met the president of our local historical society and he enticed me to purchase the Durham Bicentennial Report that was compiled in 1989, to celebrate Durham’s 200th birthday.
I’ve enjoyed thumbing through it and learned that nearly 70 years ago, Durham was a struggling municipality of 784 residents (the town’s lowest modern ebb), and it’s most pressing problem — substantial town debt, a holdover from a depression-era exodus of landowners and taxpayers.
Since 1950, when the population numbered 1,050, the town’s population has trended upwards. The past 25 years, Durham has been part of the state’s migration to the suburbs, as the population of the town has exploded, from 2074 in 1980, to near 4,000 currently.
The town’s municipal budget, excluding schools and fire, is over $4 million dollars. That’s a substantial amount of money for taxpayers to be responsible for. Sadly, attendance at town meeting is but a shadow of what it was back in 1990, when my wife and I attended our first town meeting.
Not knowing the culture of meeting day, we assumed that we could wait until about 15 minutes before the 9:00 am start, to drive the mile from our home, to the school We arrived to find the parking lot choked with cars and we ended up parking ½ mile from the school, along Route 9. In order to vote at town meeting, you must prove you are a registered voter and then, you are given a laminated card of yellow, blue, or whatever the color chosen for that particular year. The line to obtain voting cards was out the door and snaking around the corner of the school. We learned an important first lesson about town meeting—get there early. The gymnasium was packed. The basketball court was filled with plastic school chairs, better designed for the smaller frames of K-8 students, than six foot tall adults. The remaining bleacher seats along the back wall were elbow-to-elbow with the town’s “back-benchers,” many of them members of the local fire company. Fortunately, my in-laws were kind enough to save us seats, so our laissez-faire first visit didn’t work against us.
Saturday’s attendance, which I estimated to be about 125, was a fifth of what it used to be, almost 20 years ago. My previous experiences with town meeting colored my expectations and getting a later start than I anticipated found me concerned I’d be relegated to parking alongside the road once again. Imagine my surprise when I pulled into a nearly empty parking lot on the side of the school, with not many more vehicles occupying the front parking lot, alongside the main road.
Upon entering the gymnasium, 10 minutes prior to the meeting 9:00 am starting time, there were less than 50 people present, with half of those made up of members of the planning board, selectmen, budget and school committees. I had no problem obtaining my blue card granting me voting privileges on the floor. I made my way around, greeting a few familiar faces, but after 20 years living in this town, I still felt like a stranger.
My original intent was to stay for just a short while, to shoot some photos, take some notes for the book and then vacate, as I had an interview scheduled for early afternoon. Also, my son had come up from Boston, with his girlfriend and I hoped to see them and possibly have lunch together and direct them to some sites around Lisbon, which they both agreed to photograph for the book. Mark’s girlfriend, Gabi, is a very good photographer and we had talked about her doing photos for my book. Long story, short, I wasn’t planning to stay long. Being back in the atmosphere of one of democracy’s most participatory practices, however, I found me it hard to get up and leave. I was still hanging around past 10:30, making plans to exit after just one more article.
I didn’t actually leave until 11:30, about 90 minutes later than I had planned. What hooked me early in the proceedings was a common procedural maneuver, which seeks to move an article that won’t be taken up until much later and attempting to move it ahead in the article roll call. The tactic at hand was moving Article 59, which proposed changing the position of Tax Collector/Treasure from an elected position, to an appointed one, by the selectmen, was put to a vote after article four. The vote passed and the meeting’s first debate ensued.
A steady procession to the floor microphone occurred, with residents announcing their names and where they lived in town.
Sandy Polster, a resident of Meadow Road called the proposal, “the most blatant power grab he had ever seen.” Others, concerned about the loss of autonomy, asked for explanations from the selectmen. Finding myself caught up in the spirit, I marched to the microphone to say my piece about what I perceived as a loss of citizen participation.
People are less engaged in there communities than at any time in recent memory. Our own family’s experience mirrors that trend. Mary and I rarely attend. I was there primarily for research purposes, although I do think I’ll make a point to come back next year. My father-in-law passed away in 1999 and my mother-in-law now lives in Brunswick. My brother and sister-in-law that once were neighbors have left town, as has my other sister-in-law. Her ex-husband (they got divorced), sat in front of me and we chatted briefly about town politics. Many of the regulars that we used to see had found other things to do with their Saturday. Even my niece and nephew, first-time homeowners in town, weren’t in attendance. That might change when and if they have children and they enter school.
Milt Simon, longtime community leader, current budget committee member and newly elected selectmen, summed it up best, when asked about the changes in town meeting attendance.
“People today just don’t get involved like townspeople did in the past. I never understood the concept of a ‘bedroom community’ like I do know,” he said. “Now, people live here, work elsewhere and don’t feel the need to give back to their town.”
When I asked him why he continued to stay involved in town government and in restoration projects, like the revival of the Eureka Grange, he added this.
“That’s the way I was brought up—to give back to my community,” said Simon. “I don’t really know any other way than to be involved in the town where I live.”
Unfortunately, Simon’s values and spirit of community are rapidly dying out.
People are less engaged in there communities than at any time in recent memory. Our own family’s experience mirrors that trend. Mary and I rarely attend. I was there primarily for research purposes, although I do think I’ll make a point to come back next year. My father-in-law passed away in 1999 and my mother-in-law now lives in Brunswick. My brother and sister-in-law that once were neighbors have left town, as has my other sister-in-law. Her ex-husband (they got divorced), sat in front of me and we chatted briefly about town politics. Many of the regulars that we used to see had found other things to do with their Saturday. Even my niece and nephew, first-time homeowners in town, weren’t in attendance. That might change when and if they have children and they enter school.
Milt Simon, longtime community leader, current budget committee member and newly elected selectmen, summed it up best, when asked about the changes in town meeting attendance.
“People today just don’t get involved like townspeople did in the past. I never understood the concept of a ‘bedroom community’ like I do know,” he said. “Now, people live here, work elsewhere and don’t feel the need to give back to their town.”
When I asked him why he continued to stay involved in town government and in restoration projects, like the revival of the Eureka Grange, he added this.
“That’s the way I was brought up—to give back to my community,” said Simon. “I don’t really know any other way than to be involved in the town where I live.”
Unfortunately, Simon’s values and spirit of community are rapidly dying out.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Others concerned about the state of news in Maine
[In light of my recent post on newspapers in Maine, I’m posting an excellent Op-ed that I found at The Bollard, by Steve Cartwright, a longtime Maine freelance writer, who brings a firsthand perspective to what he’s talking about.
Say what you want about Maine’s media consolidation—none of it bodes well for the future of news in our state. Thankfully, there are a handful of journalistic resources left, like The Bollard—JB]
Reprinted from The Bollard
March 26, 2008
Newspapers struggling to stay afloat
By Steve Cartwright
The family-owned Times Record newspaper in Brunswick has been sold into chain ownership. Ten people on its small staff lost their jobs, and the newspaper didn't even have the guts to report it.
This month, the Portland Press Herald, Kennebec Journal and Morning Sentinel were put up for sale. They are under Seattle Times ownership for now. They have shrunk in both size and staff, and, some critics argue, in the quality of content, as well.
In newsrooms and pressrooms across Maine, reporters and other staff are nervous, wondering whether future owners will further downsize the paper, or if the papers will even survive.
The still-independent Bangor Daily News has tightened its belt with layoffs, as has the Lewiston Sun Journal. An out-of-state chain that has lopped off staffers owns the Rockland Courier-Gazette, near my home, plus the Capital Weekly and two Belfast weeklies.
What we're seeing, it seems, is the erosion of real journalism in Maine. Some people never thought too highly of this business, and sometimes with good reason, so maybe they aren't sad to see things change. But I've worked for at least a dozen Maine newspapers over the years, and I believe we are losing something important. We are losing something that helps create the sense of place, our communal and regional identity.
Without newspapers, without someone telling us what is happening, all kinds of mischief can occur. It can be pretty serious, such as corporate and government corruption. Of course, unless newspapers really dig for stories, we won't be able to root out shady goings-on. And today, many newspapers seem tame and timid, far from an old newspaperman's challenge to "comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable."
At a pragmatic level, I think we are losing a usually – although clearly not always reliable – source of information, of facts and opinions that help us decide how to vote, what to support and oppose, and even how to live our lives. The survivors in this epidemic of ailing newspapers may be local and chain-owned publications distributed for free. These can be scrappy, lively rags with eye-opening information and opinion, or they can contain fluffy, canned copy that makes your eyes glaze over.
The reality is, fewer people – you and me – are reading newspapers.
Then there is "online." The Internet offers great potential and many pitfalls. For one thing, who edits the news you read? What references do you have as to the truth and accuracy of what you learn from the 'net?
In an era of heavily biased television news programs, there is little reason to believe that the Internet, perhaps more intractable than TV, will provide balanced coverage of people and issues, local or global. For us, folks trying to figure out what's going on, the best idea is probably to read widely from different sources. But do we know how to do that, and do we have time for it? I'm skeptical.
I'm pessimistic about any kind of sunny future for typical newspapers in Maine and elsewhere. In Portland, Augusta, Bath, Rockland, Waterville, Bangor, and Belfast, good newspapers have lost their edge. It's a downward spiral. There is less to read in the paper, so we read less.
The Morning Sentinel was for years the paper of record in central Maine, but some years ago it essentially ceased to exist, except in name, as it was folded into Maine's oldest continuously published daily, the Kennebec Journal. The Journal, diminished in staff and size, has sold a chunk of real estate to make way for yet another Augusta shopping mall. It seems a desperate move.
Courier Publications, owners of the thrice-weekly Courier-Gazette, publishes The Camden Herald, a venerable weekly that's now only a shadow of its former self, just like the Morning Sentinel. Courier also publishes two newspapers in Belfast, The Republican Journal and The Waldo Independent, though promotional ads give the impression the papers compete.
Then there is the independent Village Soup (an odd name for a newcomer of a newspaper), plus its Web site. It serves Midcoast Maine and is doing a credible job, but whether it's profitable is unclear.
The scrappy Free Press in Rockland continues to be an independent weekly, and like other papers, it's also gone online. It carries features on people and places, rather than typical local news about drug busts, car crashes, school sports, and those mind-numbing reports on city council and planning board sessions.
Things are changing fast in the newspaper business, and not necessarily for the better. The problems aren't simple, but they are basically driven by the decrease in readership. That means declining ad revenue, since advertisers want to reach a lot of people. How often do you read a newspaper? If you are an Internet user, you have a source of information at your fingertips. But how good is it? And how can you tell? The online versions of Maine newspapers can be useful, but newspapers aren't sure how to make money online with free access.
These are scary times for newspapers and their staffs, and those of us who rely on newspapers for valuable information should be worried, too. If we lose our newspapers, we lose a place to voice our fears, our faith, and our fundamental concerns for our families, our communities and beyond.
If people stop reading newspapers, will they care about what happens around them? Without a reliable source of news, they won't even know what's going on.
If that happens, we put democracy at risk.
[Steve Cartwright is a freelance journalist living in Waldoboro. Over the years, he has written for nearly all of the newspapers named above.]
Say what you want about Maine’s media consolidation—none of it bodes well for the future of news in our state. Thankfully, there are a handful of journalistic resources left, like The Bollard—JB]
Reprinted from The Bollard
March 26, 2008
Newspapers struggling to stay afloat
By Steve Cartwright
The family-owned Times Record newspaper in Brunswick has been sold into chain ownership. Ten people on its small staff lost their jobs, and the newspaper didn't even have the guts to report it.
This month, the Portland Press Herald, Kennebec Journal and Morning Sentinel were put up for sale. They are under Seattle Times ownership for now. They have shrunk in both size and staff, and, some critics argue, in the quality of content, as well.
In newsrooms and pressrooms across Maine, reporters and other staff are nervous, wondering whether future owners will further downsize the paper, or if the papers will even survive.
The still-independent Bangor Daily News has tightened its belt with layoffs, as has the Lewiston Sun Journal. An out-of-state chain that has lopped off staffers owns the Rockland Courier-Gazette, near my home, plus the Capital Weekly and two Belfast weeklies.
What we're seeing, it seems, is the erosion of real journalism in Maine. Some people never thought too highly of this business, and sometimes with good reason, so maybe they aren't sad to see things change. But I've worked for at least a dozen Maine newspapers over the years, and I believe we are losing something important. We are losing something that helps create the sense of place, our communal and regional identity.
Without newspapers, without someone telling us what is happening, all kinds of mischief can occur. It can be pretty serious, such as corporate and government corruption. Of course, unless newspapers really dig for stories, we won't be able to root out shady goings-on. And today, many newspapers seem tame and timid, far from an old newspaperman's challenge to "comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable."
At a pragmatic level, I think we are losing a usually – although clearly not always reliable – source of information, of facts and opinions that help us decide how to vote, what to support and oppose, and even how to live our lives. The survivors in this epidemic of ailing newspapers may be local and chain-owned publications distributed for free. These can be scrappy, lively rags with eye-opening information and opinion, or they can contain fluffy, canned copy that makes your eyes glaze over.
The reality is, fewer people – you and me – are reading newspapers.
Then there is "online." The Internet offers great potential and many pitfalls. For one thing, who edits the news you read? What references do you have as to the truth and accuracy of what you learn from the 'net?
In an era of heavily biased television news programs, there is little reason to believe that the Internet, perhaps more intractable than TV, will provide balanced coverage of people and issues, local or global. For us, folks trying to figure out what's going on, the best idea is probably to read widely from different sources. But do we know how to do that, and do we have time for it? I'm skeptical.
I'm pessimistic about any kind of sunny future for typical newspapers in Maine and elsewhere. In Portland, Augusta, Bath, Rockland, Waterville, Bangor, and Belfast, good newspapers have lost their edge. It's a downward spiral. There is less to read in the paper, so we read less.
The Morning Sentinel was for years the paper of record in central Maine, but some years ago it essentially ceased to exist, except in name, as it was folded into Maine's oldest continuously published daily, the Kennebec Journal. The Journal, diminished in staff and size, has sold a chunk of real estate to make way for yet another Augusta shopping mall. It seems a desperate move.
Courier Publications, owners of the thrice-weekly Courier-Gazette, publishes The Camden Herald, a venerable weekly that's now only a shadow of its former self, just like the Morning Sentinel. Courier also publishes two newspapers in Belfast, The Republican Journal and The Waldo Independent, though promotional ads give the impression the papers compete.
Then there is the independent Village Soup (an odd name for a newcomer of a newspaper), plus its Web site. It serves Midcoast Maine and is doing a credible job, but whether it's profitable is unclear.
The scrappy Free Press in Rockland continues to be an independent weekly, and like other papers, it's also gone online. It carries features on people and places, rather than typical local news about drug busts, car crashes, school sports, and those mind-numbing reports on city council and planning board sessions.
Things are changing fast in the newspaper business, and not necessarily for the better. The problems aren't simple, but they are basically driven by the decrease in readership. That means declining ad revenue, since advertisers want to reach a lot of people. How often do you read a newspaper? If you are an Internet user, you have a source of information at your fingertips. But how good is it? And how can you tell? The online versions of Maine newspapers can be useful, but newspapers aren't sure how to make money online with free access.
These are scary times for newspapers and their staffs, and those of us who rely on newspapers for valuable information should be worried, too. If we lose our newspapers, we lose a place to voice our fears, our faith, and our fundamental concerns for our families, our communities and beyond.
If people stop reading newspapers, will they care about what happens around them? Without a reliable source of news, they won't even know what's going on.
If that happens, we put democracy at risk.
[Steve Cartwright is a freelance journalist living in Waldoboro. Over the years, he has written for nearly all of the newspapers named above.]
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Programming for book lovers
I confess, the posting has been sparse this week; that's what happens when Moxie takes over your life. I'm not complaining, however. If nothing else, this beck and call to tell my own story, in the context of Moxie, has yielded the world's first concise, but complete history of the enigmatic drink that Mainers (and others) either love, or hate. That, in and of itself, makes my project worthwhile.
I just wanted to let others know about Titlepage.tv. It was Mary Herman, membership director of Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance, in her weekly E-Newsletter to members that made me aware of this provocative new Internet-based talk show, where four authors, sans commercials, are given an hour to talk about books they've written.
My first foray into Titlepage.tv makes me want to revisit. The episode I viewed, their third one, was their first all non-fiction gathering. "The Horror! The Horror!" features David Hajdu, David Gilmour, Louis Masur and Mary Roach (who has written a book called Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, which is, yes, all about sex, but as the title intimates, with a unique take on the subject).
The beauty of the Internet format, is that you can watch episodes at your leisure, like late at night, or while taking a break from your writing, which is always appreciated by anyone on a deadline. If the first month is any indication (55,000 viewers), co-founders Lina Matta and Odile Isralson may have something on their hands. So much for the prediction of reading's demise.
Calling themselves a "virtual soapbox" and "a 21st century version of the Algonquin Round Table," it's smart programming for sophisticated types.
I just wanted to let others know about Titlepage.tv. It was Mary Herman, membership director of Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance, in her weekly E-Newsletter to members that made me aware of this provocative new Internet-based talk show, where four authors, sans commercials, are given an hour to talk about books they've written.
My first foray into Titlepage.tv makes me want to revisit. The episode I viewed, their third one, was their first all non-fiction gathering. "The Horror! The Horror!" features David Hajdu, David Gilmour, Louis Masur and Mary Roach (who has written a book called Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex, which is, yes, all about sex, but as the title intimates, with a unique take on the subject).
The beauty of the Internet format, is that you can watch episodes at your leisure, like late at night, or while taking a break from your writing, which is always appreciated by anyone on a deadline. If the first month is any indication (55,000 viewers), co-founders Lina Matta and Odile Isralson may have something on their hands. So much for the prediction of reading's demise.
Calling themselves a "virtual soapbox" and "a 21st century version of the Algonquin Round Table," it's smart programming for sophisticated types.
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