It starts getting chilly early here in New England.
The haunted, frightened trees in the window of Silverscape.
In the window of Valley Antiques a treasured memento of the past glory.
Through the window of the APE Gallery.
Last Sunday was the tenth anniversary of the event universally known simply as 9/11. Here Selectboard Chairperson Stephanie O'Keefe addresses the Amherst Police and Fire Departments.
Big Y let the town borrow their gigantic flag, the largest ever to fly on the Amherst Common.
Naturally Larry Kelley was there blogging it all for posterity.
But it wouldn't be Amherst without a little protest demonstration on the side.
Meanwhile, there are a couple of important local primaries this Tuesday. I don't live in Springfield anymore, but if I did I'd vote for the most honest woman in Valley politics, Antonette Pepe (below on the left) for Mayor. For At-large City Council I would vote for Timothy Rooke, Kateri Walsh, John Stevens, Charles Rucks and David Ciampi.
Of course this being Springfield, be sure to vote early and often!
If I lived in Holyoke, for mayor I would vote for Alex Morse, one of the most promising fresh faces to appear in Valley politics for a long time.
Some hot pickin' a few nights ago in an Easthampton record store.
Whaddup blog readers! Here is yet another out of print article rescued from the vaults, this time a September 16, 2001 piece about Congressman Richard Neal and the media criticism he faced in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks.
Whatever his flaws, no one has ever accused Congressman Richard Neal of a lack of political sophistication. In fact, he has a reputation of being a political junkie who rarely looks at anything without considering the political ramifications. That may have gotten him into some hot water last week when he was caught in what he described as a "casual conversation" with a reporter criticizing President Bush for appearing "bland" in his remarks following the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington. Neal then went on to compare Bush unfavorably to Bill Clinton. Also caught with his foot in his mouth was Neal's colleague and Washington roommate Rep. Martin Meehan, who scoffed at the notion that security concerns delayed the president's return to Washington from Florida following the attacks.
For seeming to suggest that the president acted cowardly, it was Meehan who took the brunt of the criticism (actually the president's actions were dictated by his security staff, whom Bush eventually overrode and then quickly returned to Washington anyway.) But both congressmen found themselves at the center of a firestorm of media criticism for making petty attacks on the president at a time of national emergency, violating a bi-partisan understanding among politicians everywhere to refrain from public criticism of the President in times of crisis.
Former Mayor Taupier
For Neal however, who seldom appears in the national spotlight, the sudden media condemnation must have come as a shock. Locally, even a stalwart Democrat like former Holyoke Mayor William Taupier exclaimed in the Union-News, "They are both friends of mine, but I am outraged. This is not a time for politics; they're acting like rank amateurs."
Among the most sarcastic criticism came from Boston Herald columnist and radio host Howie Carr, who lambasted Meehan and Neal by calling them "Osama Bin Meehan" and "Richie 'The Sheik' Neal." In a rant in which he also criticized Amherst residents for complaining that their town was displaying too many flags, Carr then turned his acid-tipped pen to the two Massachusetts congressmen. "Finally we come to the two congressional collaborators, Osama bin Meehan and Richie the Sheik. First Richie - Who knew he could even talk? The last time I remember him speaking was when he called his local newspaper to deny that he had impregnated one of his aides."
Howie Carr at the Big E in September 2009.
What was Howie Carr talking about? Shortly after Neal was first elected to Congress, an item appeared in the Springfield Newspapers in which Neal denounced rumors that he had impregnated an aide who allegedly then had an abortion. The rumors were never proven, and what amazed most people was that the matter ever appeared in the paper at all. But sophisticated observers recognized the article as just the standard sort of warning the Springfield Newspapers typically give to newly elected politicians; designed to give them a taste of what could happen should they stray too far off the plantation.
For example, when Springfield Mayor Mike Albano was newly sworn in, a front page story accused him of hiring unqualified cronies to work in his administration. That article inspired a woman who worked at the then city-owned Municipal Hospital to come forward and call talk show host Dan Yorke to complain that a member of the politically connected Pellegrino family had been hired for an important post for which he had no known qualifications.
Yorke ran with the story, expecting the Springfield Newspapers to follow up with this new evidence backing up their front-page story. Instead, the paper remained silent, refusing to cover the story. The woman who called Yorke became so intimidated by people whom she refused to identify that she backed down and declined to co-operate with Yorke any further.
The reason for the paper's silence was clear. They had never intended to seriously investigate cronyism in city government - they only wanted to show Albano their power. If the paper's actions were paraphrased into words they might read, "Look Mikey, before you get too big for your britches, remember that we buy ink by the barrel, and we will be glad to spill a lot of it on your behalf if you make us happy. But refuse to do things our way, and here's a small sample of what we can write. Whether we print something like this in the future or not will depend on your level of co-operation."
The publication of the Neal pregnant aide rumor almost certainly fell into the same category of a simple warning, so Carr may have been going a bit too far to drag that skeleton out of the closet. After all, the rumor need not have been true to still be effective as a club for the Springfield Newspapers to use. In any case Neal appears to have learned his lesson well, since the paper has treated him with kid gloves ever since.
Ironically, it may have been the puffball treatment he's used to getting from the local press that was responsible for Neal committing his blunder with the Boston press. He's so used to having everything spun his way that it never occurred to Neal that reporters in other places consider it their responsibility to report on what politicians actually say and do, and do not censor or revise all comments in a positive way simply because the politician is in bed with the local publisher.
But that still doesn't explain why a politically astute guy like Neal let himself get into such a mess in the first place. A clue may be found in the Ogulewicz Chronicles, the memoirs of former City Councilor Mitch Ogulewicz, who has known Neal since the beginning of Neal's political career. In his memoirs, Ogulewicz describes an intense confrontation he once had with then Mayor Neal over the need to repair roofs on the city's schools. Despite evidence that some school roofs may have posed a safety hazard, Neal didn't want to spend money on them because the average taxpayer wouldn't be able to see where the money was spent.
"No one can see a fucking roof!" Ogulewicz says Neal told him. "The public only cares about what they can see!" The portrait Ogulewicz presents of Neal is of a person for whom everything is political. Therefore while most people saw President Bush as our country's leader doing his best to comfort a shocked and grieving nation, Neal perceived simply a politician giving a performance, and therefore saw nothing inappropriate in suggesting that Bill Clinton would have put on a better show.
But whatever the reason, Neal's apparent lack of sensitivity and understanding of the 9/11 tragedy must surely be considered, as ex-Mayor Taupier was quoted as describing Neal's comments in the Springfield Newspapers:
"Stupid, stupid, stupid."
Bye Buzz
Buzzers Bill Peters and Greg Saulmon
I'm saddened to learn that the Valley cyberzine Local Buzz has at least temporarily ceased online publication. The hiatus is due to the departure of Buzz co-writer Bill Peters, who has been laid off by the Buzz's parent company Masslive.com, which is the web portal for the Springfield Newspapers. Co-writer Greg Saulmon will continue to work with Masslive as a director of online content, but has opted not to continue Local Buzz without Peters. A third buzzling, Josh Thayer, left the cyberzine about a year ago.
Local Buzz started as both an online and print publication. However, just when the print version appeared on the brink of a market breakthrough, financial hardships forced the Springfield Newspapers to abruptly discontinue the print edition and Local Buzz went exclusively online. The Local Buzz became known as one of the best written and beautifully photographed websites in the Valley, as well as for its indepth reporting and sharp wit.
Hampenings
Here's a display in Northampton's Pulaski Park.
I should say something about the inappropriateness of religious displays in public places, but the Christians get away with it so often that I feel mean complaining about the Jews.
The Academy of Music is having a Paul Newman film festival next month.
My neighbor put an Earth flag in their garage window.
Another neighbor is getting into composting.
Guns and Roses.
A giant snowbird sits on her eggs in front of the science store on King Street.
If the science store should ever go out of business, it could sell its window sign to an LSD dealer.
Today's Music Video
In Northampton a few nights ago singing about a local highway.
Wikipedia - Unlike most states it passes through, US 202 is posted as a north-south highway in Massachusetts, as most of its length through the state runs mostly in those directions.
US 202 and Route 10 enter the Bay State at the "Congamond Notch", a southward jog in the state line that includes Congamond Lake. North of Westfield, US 202 turns eastward toward Holyoke and Belchertown. It then heads north along the west side of the Quabbin Reservoir through New Salem toward Athol. This section of US 202 has been dubbed the Daniel Shays Highway, named for a Revolutionary War veteran who led an insurrection against the state government of Massachusetts. US 202 meets Route 2 at Orange, and runs along the two-lane freeway to Phillipston. There, it diverges to the north again as a two-lane road.
In Massachusetts, US 202 passes through the municipalities of Southwick, Westfield, Holyoke, South Hadley, Granby, Belchertown, Pelham, Shutesbury, New Salem, Orange, Athol, Phillipston, Templeton, and Winchendon.
Yesterday afternoon I was at the WHMP studios in the heart of downtown Northampton to record some readings from my blog for a new segment they're going to be airing called Radio Blogging. The idea is to have local bloggers read aloud from their better posts. Among the others scheduled so far are Jim Neill and Mary Carey. I'm honored to have been the one chosen to kick off the series.
The main office at WHMP, which is also the headquarters for a number of affiliated stations, is decorated by old music posters such as this one by the copying machines of Bob Dylan.
Actually WHMP is more about news and talk radio than music. The person working with me in the studio to record the two segments I read aloud was Jaz Tupelo, a radio Jill of all trades and a star of the Valley airwaves.
I read two pieces regarding my short and long ago meat cutting career at Big Y. Here's a transcript of the first one:
I was in Springfield recently, and heading down Breckwood Boulevard I stopped by the woods where the dam is located that created Breckwood Pond. My father used to swim there as a boy.
A little ways down the Mill River, I was amazed to see a supermarket carriage stuck by a fallen tree. That carriage must date back to when the Big Y supermarket was located on Wilbraham Road. Kids from Duggan Junior High used to steal them and throw them off the dam.
I used to work at that Big Y in the meat department. Today most meat arrives at the store pre-cut by largely automated processes, but when I was cutting meat we got in whole sides of beef, missing only their heads and skin, and had to break them down into steaks.
The worst was cutting chickens, hundreds and hundreds of chickens for a typical Saturday sale, done on a slippery spinning saw, and if you made a mistake that whirring blade could take four fingers off your hand before the first pain signal had a chance to reach your brain. I still know the routine by heart - two long cuts to remove the backbone, one across the middle to separate the breast, slit the breast in half and for some packages, slice the thighs from the drumsticks. Repeat ad nauseum until there were enough chickens for all the people of Pine Point, a lower middle-class community where every family ate more chicken than steak.
A lot of the guys who worked there cutting meat were immigrants from Poland. At lunch they would go next door to Mory's Pub for a chili-dog and as many shots and beers as they could down in a half-hour. No one in Big Y management openly frowned on this practice, since it was too hard to find good cutters like the Poles. They relished hard work, but they would've quit if told they couldn't drink.
I don't recall a single accident occurring that could be blamed on alcohol. It was actually better to be a little loose while cutting meat, because it was when you were uptight that the blade would slip. Besides, it wasn't the knives and saws that ruined their hands, it was the constant exposure to frigid flesh; that icy coldness would seep into your bones, leaving your hands gnarled claws of arthritis by the time you were fifty. That's one of the reasons I quit meat cutting, I figured I could still become an alcoholic without ruining my hands in the bargain.
Once the novelty of being in a totally refrigerated environment with parts of dead animals all around you wore off, the work was pretty repetitious. To escape the boredom, the guys used to tell stories. Not all of us, I was too lowly in the pecking order as a novice cutter to hold the floor and the girls who did the meat wrapping were also excluded. We were the designated audience, and glad for it, because some of those guys had some compelling stories to tell.
The most interesting ones were about their life in Poland under the communists. You couldn't listen to them without concluding, whatever your political background, that communism was the most stupidly evil thing on earth. Most of the stories though were just about normal stuff, marriages under strain, trouble with kids, funny things that happened.
I believe I learned a lot from those guys about how to tell a story, skills like how to hold people's interest over a long narrative by withholding information and then doling it out when it packs the most punch. It was better than a graduate seminar in literature, those slow afternoons in the Big Y meat room, although I'm not sure how many of those guys could read or write, at least not in English. But they sure could tell better stories than some English professors.
The other one I read was about the death of Bodie Chesbro:
I was nearly speechless with dismay when I heard the news of the death of Dave Chesbro, whom everyone knew as "Bodie," a notorious figure in the 16 Acres/Pine Point section of Springfield and one of my fellow meatcutters at the Pine Point Big Y back in the day. We worked with mostly older Polish guys and as the kids in the outfit we bonded.
In those days Bodie looked and acted like a motorcycle outlaw. I'll always remember as we arrived at work at dawn to begin preparing the day's meats, how he used to come roaring across the empty parking lot on his beloved Kawasaki, doing wheelies and other dangerous tricks for us that in retrospect make me wonder how he lived as long as he did, actually reaching the age of 50, a birthday not seen by all of the boys of Pine Point from that generation.
Sometimes, despite the angry protests of the store manager, Bodie would pull some of his motorcycle stunts coming back from lunch when the store was open and there were customers in the parking lot. I don't know what disturbed the customers more, seeing this character with a wild blond afro squealing and hurtling across the parking lot while letting out a blood-curdling banshee scream; or when they realized a few minutes later while shopping for their meat that the very same maniac from the parking lot was behind the meat counter waving a eight-inch razor sharp blade that could cut through your jugular like butter! He was smooth with a knife and could probably have become as good a meatcutter as the old Poles had he not decided he liked the looser schedule of the construction trade.
I know he wouldn't mind if I reveal what all his closest friends knew, which was that his tough-guy persona was largely an act, although a convincing one. Walking down the street with him I was often amused to see old ladies actually cringe as we went past them. But there were nights after work, and these are the times with him that I remember best, when I would jump on the back of the bike with some beer and buds and head out to some field in the country, places in Monson or Hampden or other cowtowns that only he knew and which I could never relocate in the daylight. He knew how to ride only two ways, reckless and insane, but I never felt afraid to ride with him. He had an uncanny ability to judge inter-spatial relationships and the geometrics of other moving objects. As they say in the motocross world, "He knew time."
Once we reached our destination at the end of those nighttime rides, and if he got high enough to open up, he was really sensitive and smart in a way that I don't think most people recognized. He had the sharpest mind for doing mathematics, and he once shocked everyone by briefly attending STCC to study accounting. Everyone laughed at the very notion of such a thing, but I believe that had his life path been different he could indeed have been a fine accountant.
In some ways I think he saw the world too clearly, and that was part of what made him so wild. I mostly lost track of him after he left the meatcutting world, although occasionally word would reach me of him through mutual friends, and it was not always happy news. He was a great fun-hog, and everybody loved him for the energy and the excitement he could stir up, but he wasn't always a good judge of when the fun crossed the line into self-destruction.
The energy level of the world dropped a few ampage points when he died in a motorcycle crash in 2005. I know I speak for everyone who knew Bodie Chesbro when I say that he was one of life's wonderfully unique and unrepeatable experiences.
When will these be airing? I'm not sure, I think they are supposed to run sort of randomly, like when the host needs a bathroom break or something. Each one may air several times before I record any new ones, assuming the whole project doesn't turn out to be a bust. Perhaps they will also be made available on the WHMP website; in any case I'll let you know when I have more details. In the meantime, these are the radio stations you need to tune into (based on where you live in the Valley) in order to hear the radio blogging.
Never Forget
It's interesting how eight years later you can still say "nine-eleven" and everybody knows what you're talking about. This morning at UMass a military honor guard stood silent vigil outside Memorial Hall.
Two Friends
Pointer Paul Walker on the woodland way into downtown Northampton.
Luke outside the Haymarket.
Today's Video
Let's go to Boston and get all ethnic.
Well, the weather has been just awful the last 24 hours, with torrential rain with barely a break. However that did not prevent the UMass Republican Club and the UMass ROTC from putting up hundreds of flags as a reminder of the lives lost in the attack on America on September 11, 2001 by Islamic extremists.
Just before midnight, students began gathering to begin building the flag display.
In carefully laid rows, the volunteers placed them in a perfect geometrical display, each flag representing 10 Americans killed.
By the first minute of 9/11, all the flags were up.
This is what students, faculty and staff saw this morning when the sun came up.
Next to the flag display, someone placed this peace sign in purple cloth.
While the UMass campus was awash with flags, the town of Amherst itself is still coming to terms with how to acknowledge 9/11, as shown in this Larry Kelly video.
Maybe UMass has more of an incentive to note the day because one of their own was killed aboard one of the planes that crashed into the Twin Towers - Christopher Carstanjen of the Office of Information Technology. A special marker is located outside the Grad Research Center, which is where he worked, but this year the marker was obscured by a fence that has been up all summer because of a waterproofing project.
When I looked yesterday, the stone was completely obscured by all the plant growth that had taken place behind the fence. However, when I checked today someone had climbed over the fence and ripped away all the vegetation to expose the stone. God bless whoever did that.
Perhaps the best way to commemorate those who lost their lives on 9/11, and on the battlefields of the Middle East in the years since, is to refuse to be intimidated or allow these tragedies to degrade our lives. Not depression and anxiety, but hope and happiness.
