Bing Crosby said, "I think popular music in this country is on of the few things in the 20th Century that has made giant strides in reverse."
I haven't heard of any recently written "pretty" music, but I have heard several younger singers doing the pretty songs of earlier years. Perhaps because I tend to enjoy male voices more than female, I chose the following vocalists to write about.
Michael Buble' is a very talented performer born in the '70's who does not really have a style of his own, but sings the old numbers like "Call Me Irresponsible" and "For Once In My Lifetime" the way someone my age likes to hear them. If you watch him (lucky you, if it's in person) you will see he has a little attitude, call it swagger maybe, that you might not "hear" on a CD. However, I think his charm and musicality come through in pieces like "Save the Last Dance For Me" he has a little different sound. It's a country song, but he makes it his own with a little different leaning toward a Latin blend.
Michael Feinstein is a little older than Buble'. Born in the late 50's he had an opportunity to be influenced by working as Ira Gershwin's assistant. Feinstein is an accomplished pianist in his own right, and a lot of his work is "cabaret style" with himself as accompanist. His specialty is romantic songs, and probably the fastest among his performances would be "Something's Gotta Give." He has made many albums and worked with many groups. One important work he has done was with the Israeli Philharmonic Orchestra in early 2001 in which he performed "Laura", "Stormy Weather" and other standards. All works were by Jewish American composers including Gershwin, Berln, and Herman's "I Wont Send Roses." Unlike Buble', Feinstein has developed a style of his own, a confidence and maturity that, if you have the opportunity to compare old work with new, will be discernable. Michael Feinstein's mother was a tap dancer of little fame and his father was salesman, who also was an amateur vocalist.
Harry Connick, Jr. is the third performer I enjoy. He was born in the late 60's; younger than Feinstein, but older than Buble', he has written songs, put together his own bands, and most definitely developing his own style. While he has made a career of singing the Great American Songbook pieces, he didn't try to copy the old performers. He admitted he did not have the vocal strength to sound like Sinatra or others, although he was being touted as the "Chairman nouveau" by some promoters. He played young Lt. Cable in the 2001 version of So. Pacific; and in Pajama Game he was the piano-playing Sorokin. My impression of Harry Connick, Jr's career is that he has had lot of fun. He was worked hard and used his talent to the highest scale.His is the voice in the movie "Sleepless in Seattle" singing his own "Wink and a Smile". His father was a district attorney in New Orleans who also played piano and sang as a hobby in local night clubs.
To be fair, Diana Kral is a very credible young woman, born in 1964, who sings jazz and swing with the best. She came to the US from BC, Canada. Her father played stride piano and he exposed her to all the greatest musicians such as Thelonious Monk, Claude Thornhill and Paul Whiteman ( the latter previously profiled in a blog). Her style is not a copy of any other performer. She has toured with Tony Bennett. She has sung blues, jazz and traditional music (the latter a Christmas album) and is right at home with swing. It is said her only mistake so far has not taking Bennett up on the offer to make an album with him. That's o.k., Diana, you're doing just fine.
Another female performer that I admit to really liking among the younger set is k.d. lang.
No, I didn't leave off the capitals. She doesn't use them. I have seen videos of her and like her unselfconscious style. She is who she is and sings with confidence but not brass. She professes to be attracted to both women and men - but not equally. She DID do an album with Bennett. It is one of my favorite "put on some music and go to sleep" albums. She is an activist for many causes such as animal rights, gay rights, and human rights. She also came from Canada and puts a nice mark of her own on country. I am not a fan of country, but she makes it very listenable. Some of her songs have a heavy guitar (she might be playing it it is so in tune with her) but the lyrics come over it very well. She is considered a rock and roll artist. I have not heard any of that music.
Just thinking about the variety of styles each performer uses, I recommend not giving up on someone just because you have heard them one piece you don't care for. In my circle of very talented senior organ players (senior as in age, not necessarily accomplishment) I notice that each really does well with one or two rhythms and tempos, but it doesn't stop them, nor should it, from playing every other one. A gal who plays fast Latin because she loves Ethel Smith's rendition of TicoTico doesn't necessarily play it like Ethel, but isn't she just having a ball doing it? And the person who loves Hank Williams might attempt to play a country piece with a twangy guitar which would "twang" my ears uncomfortably, but if he loves what he does, that's what hobby music is all about. If any of us plays comfortably enough to share our music at a senior center, nursing home or community event, that's hobby organ's purpose. I can't sing, but I do enjoy all of the performers I have written about today. And I don't think we have taken strides in reverse. I think somewhere out there are composers writing good music we have yet to hear. We just need to make the need for it known.
Bob Hope once said of Phyllis Diller, "When she started to play, Steinway himself came down personally and rubbed his name off the piano."
As long as Mr. Lowrey doesn't appear to remove his name from your instrument --
Keep a song in your heart and keep the music playing.
janicemajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Hey, Gov -
Hey, Governor LePage -
Listen up. The country is trying to become more civil and courteous and you're not hearing the message.
Yes, Maine's governor LePage made a serious gaff again last week when instead of making his polite excuses for not being available for this week's MLK events, he made a rude remark telling the NAACP what they could do. It would have been nice if he had remembered to write the MLK date on his calendar and set it aside as he made plans for his first year in office. And couldn't he have squeezed out an hour to sit in on one of the several events? Of course, he could have but he didn't. Too bad but not a disastrous.
Mr. LePage is not a racist. He has included a Jamaican boy in his family, in fact, speaks of him as his son. Although the young man apparently has a father in Jamaica and is not an American citizen, and, according to what I have read, he has not been adopted by the LePages. Apparently Raymond (the young man's name) has told his peers he is in this country to get a better education. He has confided he hopes to be a golf pro. His father was a caddy for PLP when he was in Jamaica at some point.
Now the NAACP is understandably offended that 1) Mr. LePage did not make time for the MLK events, and more rightfully 2) that he made a crudely dismissive remark when questioned about the lapse. They made their ire public - very public - which doesn't help the help matters. And exacerbating the situation, Mr. Nemitz, in the Maine Sunday Telegram wrote a scathing criticism.
The young collegians in Maine are up in arms because one of the Governor's first acts was to nullify the previous governor's decision to make asking for a detainee's proof of citizenship unlawful. They think that indicates exclusion perhaps racism.
I believe in seeking proof of citizenship when someone has broken the law; have no problem with it if I get caught speeding, which would probably be the most likely reason I would be detained. The older I get the more I believe in an I.D. Card for everyone, picture and a lot of information all encoded which would apply only to the card holder. What's wrong with that? It sure would simplify things for the police, the airlines, hospitals, banks, etc.
Back to the Governor - I am sure handsight will serve him a hefty dish of "wouldda,couldda, shouldda." Next time maybe he will at least send a person close to him - his daughter who works in his office, his Jamaican son, his personal assistant. No one is infallible, not even the President of the Maine NAACP, so I hope they all learn to get along forgive one another their "trespasses."
janice major
Listen up. The country is trying to become more civil and courteous and you're not hearing the message.
Yes, Maine's governor LePage made a serious gaff again last week when instead of making his polite excuses for not being available for this week's MLK events, he made a rude remark telling the NAACP what they could do. It would have been nice if he had remembered to write the MLK date on his calendar and set it aside as he made plans for his first year in office. And couldn't he have squeezed out an hour to sit in on one of the several events? Of course, he could have but he didn't. Too bad but not a disastrous.
Mr. LePage is not a racist. He has included a Jamaican boy in his family, in fact, speaks of him as his son. Although the young man apparently has a father in Jamaica and is not an American citizen, and, according to what I have read, he has not been adopted by the LePages. Apparently Raymond (the young man's name) has told his peers he is in this country to get a better education. He has confided he hopes to be a golf pro. His father was a caddy for PLP when he was in Jamaica at some point.
Now the NAACP is understandably offended that 1) Mr. LePage did not make time for the MLK events, and more rightfully 2) that he made a crudely dismissive remark when questioned about the lapse. They made their ire public - very public - which doesn't help the help matters. And exacerbating the situation, Mr. Nemitz, in the Maine Sunday Telegram wrote a scathing criticism.
The young collegians in Maine are up in arms because one of the Governor's first acts was to nullify the previous governor's decision to make asking for a detainee's proof of citizenship unlawful. They think that indicates exclusion perhaps racism.
I believe in seeking proof of citizenship when someone has broken the law; have no problem with it if I get caught speeding, which would probably be the most likely reason I would be detained. The older I get the more I believe in an I.D. Card for everyone, picture and a lot of information all encoded which would apply only to the card holder. What's wrong with that? It sure would simplify things for the police, the airlines, hospitals, banks, etc.
Back to the Governor - I am sure handsight will serve him a hefty dish of "wouldda,couldda, shouldda." Next time maybe he will at least send a person close to him - his daughter who works in his office, his Jamaican son, his personal assistant. No one is infallible, not even the President of the Maine NAACP, so I hope they all learn to get along forgive one another their "trespasses."
janice major
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
January 11, 2011
Interesting date, 1/11/11.
Maine has a lot of statues and public art pieces. I am sort of fascinated by them and once thought I would like to take pictures of as many as I could find, and perhaps publish it. But Maine Arts Commission printed a little booklet and I thought I could not compete with them. I bought a few and sent them to out-of-staters I thought might be interested.
I am not very fond of "modern art" where statues are concerned. They are supposed to have meanings, which I don't always get, and often I don't find them very artistic at all. There was a statue in a small park by Portland's Baxter Boulevard (the Baxters were very benevolent citizens who donated lots of land for public use, and Percival Baxter was one of our governors. Anyway, back to the statue I really liked by the boulevard --
I could relate to it: It was a tall stalk with a burst open pod at the top. It looked like a milkweed pod and the star-shaped seeds bursting forth seemed to me to speak of a hopeful future, regeneration; even a giving of onesself. It had developed a nice coppery patina which made it even more attractive, in my untutored eye. Alas, that lovely piece of art has been replaced by what I think is a rather cold and ugly steel structure which I get no message from. It is cold and steely stark. If any who happens to read this blog knows the meaning of that piece, I would welcome enlightenment.
A few years ago an artist from out of state was commissioned to create something to put in the Old Port area of Portland. She devised a series of curving steel blades which were supposed to resemble the ripples of the Fore River, and between the blades the city was to, and did, plant some grasses which would sway with the wind, making the visual more realistic. The grass did not do well in our Maine atmosphere, and the steel blades looked like a couple of scrapped guillotines. The city spent hours and dollars trying to keep the weeds down and the grasses up to no avail. The piece will be removed, hopefully placed somewhere out of the way where no one has to look at it. There are rules about what the city can do with a piece of art once it accepts it, and the artist has a good deal of say in the matter. The artist who created that monstrosity made several trips to Portland to argue her case for keeping it, but the citizenry prevailed. Now the "arts commission" for the city will have to spend a few more of our treasure to find something else to fill the spot. I would suggest the simply plant appropriate flowers as they do in some other areas.
Burr Miller, a sculptor of some renown was a resident of Kennebunk Beach when I was young. His wife was a Russian artist or vocalist - I can't remember which. What I remember was that someone said to me, "Burr Miller's wife is a "White Russian." I had no idea what that meant, but I suppose that meant she was not of Oriental persuasion. Anyway, she was a very aristocratic appearing woman, and he was a somewhat older looking man suffering, I think, from MS. They had two children, who never attended local schools to my knowledge. Perhaps they were home schooled, which would have been quite unusual in the early fifties.Burr Miller sculpted a statue of Thomas Brackett Reed which stands on the Western Promenade in Portland. It is a very stately statue of a Maine Representative who became the 38th speaker of the United States House under Grover Cleveland.
Some of my favorite statues are two children sitting on a bench reading, which is by the door of the Kennebunk Library; the dolphins playing in a circle in the Old Port of Portland; the well known lobsterman, also in Portland in the Old Port. Now I have a question about that statue because I found an article that said it is situated at the tip of Bailey Island. Perhaps there are two versions. I will have to drive over the old cribstone bridge to the island and see if in fact there is one there. And is it the same one? There is a darling little "water girl" holding a leaking water bowl in Portland. It has been in several different places, and I am not sure where it stands at this writing. The last time I saw her she was in front of the public library,and her bowl was empty. In Longfellow Square in Portland there is a large statue of Henry sitting in his chair. It has been carefully restored in recent years and somewhat recently he was turned to face in a different direction, to what purpose I do not know. The restoration which included a good cleaning off of the friendly pigeon droppings, was accomplished by a fund raising done by school children, in large part encouraged by Evelyn Densmore, their teacher.
There is a large collection of marble statuary and sculpture in the Portland Museum of Art, one very famous Pearl Diver. A sad piece for the diver has succumbed and is stretched out over a raised base.
Bernard Langlais was a wood sculptor. He would take a chunk of wood, almost any size including very large logs,and envision various people, animals, and objects. A man named Daniels who was a radio repairman, took some scrap and made a "road runner" out of it and before he could toss it into the scrap heap, someone bought it. From there a new career for Mr. Daniels, he made many metal sculptures including a brave St.George facing down a ferocious dragon. The man who created LO
VE named Robert Indiana was in Maine when he got that clever inspiration which became familiar everywhere. Nearly every town has a Civil War Memorial. They all look alike to me, but I am told they are not all of the same hero. I like art that looks like something so I barely give a second glance to a lot of modern pieces. I don't understand many of them. I like outdoor pieces. One of the newer pieces in Portland is just outside the baseball park. It is of a family, Mom, Dad and two little kids. It was very controversial because it is a generic American family. The minority community complained that it was not representative of them: not Hispanic, African-American or Asian. It was privately commissioned and the "arts committee" finally allowed it to be put in place. It's a nice work and a fitting depiction of the a family out for a good time. I guess it looks Caucasian, but it is after all bronze in color. To me it just looks like a really great family enjoying a day at the ball park.
I am fascinated that anyone can take a piece of wood, a chunk of marble or other stone, a lump of clay. or in Mr. Daniels' case, a heap of scrap metal, and see it's potential. I have often thought I would like to take a lump of clay and make a head just for the experience. I don't think it would become a museum piece but maybe someone some day would find it tucked away in the back of the garage and say, "I wonder what she was thinking when she did that?" I tried whittling once. It looks so easy and the block of wood was already marked off.
The poor little bird came out looking like a misformed embryo of a sea creature. I did gain even more admiration for clever people who take a pen knife and block of wood and turn out a credible bird or bunny.
Another nice thing about statues is you can stare at them and look at them from every angle and they don't get angry at your rudeness, or blush at your critical eye, or say "What are you lookin' at?" I like statues. I consider them nice assets of the community.
janicemajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Maine has a lot of statues and public art pieces. I am sort of fascinated by them and once thought I would like to take pictures of as many as I could find, and perhaps publish it. But Maine Arts Commission printed a little booklet and I thought I could not compete with them. I bought a few and sent them to out-of-staters I thought might be interested.
I am not very fond of "modern art" where statues are concerned. They are supposed to have meanings, which I don't always get, and often I don't find them very artistic at all. There was a statue in a small park by Portland's Baxter Boulevard (the Baxters were very benevolent citizens who donated lots of land for public use, and Percival Baxter was one of our governors. Anyway, back to the statue I really liked by the boulevard --
I could relate to it: It was a tall stalk with a burst open pod at the top. It looked like a milkweed pod and the star-shaped seeds bursting forth seemed to me to speak of a hopeful future, regeneration; even a giving of onesself. It had developed a nice coppery patina which made it even more attractive, in my untutored eye. Alas, that lovely piece of art has been replaced by what I think is a rather cold and ugly steel structure which I get no message from. It is cold and steely stark. If any who happens to read this blog knows the meaning of that piece, I would welcome enlightenment.
A few years ago an artist from out of state was commissioned to create something to put in the Old Port area of Portland. She devised a series of curving steel blades which were supposed to resemble the ripples of the Fore River, and between the blades the city was to, and did, plant some grasses which would sway with the wind, making the visual more realistic. The grass did not do well in our Maine atmosphere, and the steel blades looked like a couple of scrapped guillotines. The city spent hours and dollars trying to keep the weeds down and the grasses up to no avail. The piece will be removed, hopefully placed somewhere out of the way where no one has to look at it. There are rules about what the city can do with a piece of art once it accepts it, and the artist has a good deal of say in the matter. The artist who created that monstrosity made several trips to Portland to argue her case for keeping it, but the citizenry prevailed. Now the "arts commission" for the city will have to spend a few more of our treasure to find something else to fill the spot. I would suggest the simply plant appropriate flowers as they do in some other areas.
Burr Miller, a sculptor of some renown was a resident of Kennebunk Beach when I was young. His wife was a Russian artist or vocalist - I can't remember which. What I remember was that someone said to me, "Burr Miller's wife is a "White Russian." I had no idea what that meant, but I suppose that meant she was not of Oriental persuasion. Anyway, she was a very aristocratic appearing woman, and he was a somewhat older looking man suffering, I think, from MS. They had two children, who never attended local schools to my knowledge. Perhaps they were home schooled, which would have been quite unusual in the early fifties.Burr Miller sculpted a statue of Thomas Brackett Reed which stands on the Western Promenade in Portland. It is a very stately statue of a Maine Representative who became the 38th speaker of the United States House under Grover Cleveland.
Some of my favorite statues are two children sitting on a bench reading, which is by the door of the Kennebunk Library; the dolphins playing in a circle in the Old Port of Portland; the well known lobsterman, also in Portland in the Old Port. Now I have a question about that statue because I found an article that said it is situated at the tip of Bailey Island. Perhaps there are two versions. I will have to drive over the old cribstone bridge to the island and see if in fact there is one there. And is it the same one? There is a darling little "water girl" holding a leaking water bowl in Portland. It has been in several different places, and I am not sure where it stands at this writing. The last time I saw her she was in front of the public library,and her bowl was empty. In Longfellow Square in Portland there is a large statue of Henry sitting in his chair. It has been carefully restored in recent years and somewhat recently he was turned to face in a different direction, to what purpose I do not know. The restoration which included a good cleaning off of the friendly pigeon droppings, was accomplished by a fund raising done by school children, in large part encouraged by Evelyn Densmore, their teacher.
There is a large collection of marble statuary and sculpture in the Portland Museum of Art, one very famous Pearl Diver. A sad piece for the diver has succumbed and is stretched out over a raised base.
Bernard Langlais was a wood sculptor. He would take a chunk of wood, almost any size including very large logs,and envision various people, animals, and objects. A man named Daniels who was a radio repairman, took some scrap and made a "road runner" out of it and before he could toss it into the scrap heap, someone bought it. From there a new career for Mr. Daniels, he made many metal sculptures including a brave St.George facing down a ferocious dragon. The man who created LO
VE named Robert Indiana was in Maine when he got that clever inspiration which became familiar everywhere. Nearly every town has a Civil War Memorial. They all look alike to me, but I am told they are not all of the same hero. I like art that looks like something so I barely give a second glance to a lot of modern pieces. I don't understand many of them. I like outdoor pieces. One of the newer pieces in Portland is just outside the baseball park. It is of a family, Mom, Dad and two little kids. It was very controversial because it is a generic American family. The minority community complained that it was not representative of them: not Hispanic, African-American or Asian. It was privately commissioned and the "arts committee" finally allowed it to be put in place. It's a nice work and a fitting depiction of the a family out for a good time. I guess it looks Caucasian, but it is after all bronze in color. To me it just looks like a really great family enjoying a day at the ball park.
I am fascinated that anyone can take a piece of wood, a chunk of marble or other stone, a lump of clay. or in Mr. Daniels' case, a heap of scrap metal, and see it's potential. I have often thought I would like to take a lump of clay and make a head just for the experience. I don't think it would become a museum piece but maybe someone some day would find it tucked away in the back of the garage and say, "I wonder what she was thinking when she did that?" I tried whittling once. It looks so easy and the block of wood was already marked off.
The poor little bird came out looking like a misformed embryo of a sea creature. I did gain even more admiration for clever people who take a pen knife and block of wood and turn out a credible bird or bunny.
Another nice thing about statues is you can stare at them and look at them from every angle and they don't get angry at your rudeness, or blush at your critical eye, or say "What are you lookin' at?" I like statues. I consider them nice assets of the community.
janicemajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
January 4
Maine is a winter state. By that I mean to convey that we have long winters that go very deep. But this has been a really agreeable one so far. Of course, it is less than one month old and has nearly three months to go. The sun still warms the earth and melts what snow there is, and the nights get cold which creates "black ice" in unexpected places. I went to put out my trash Monday morning and my driveway was slick with the treacherous glaze. I tossed a scattering of ice melt product ahead of myself, and it did it's job efficiently so I got the trash out. However, the sun does not get to the driveway until around noon, so before long the driveway was again frozen over, ice melt pebbles and all. After seven months of above freezing temps, we forget how to watch out for such things as "black ice" and sudden squalls. I was driving east one day recently and drove right into a driving, blinding snow storm which lasted about two miles. Then I drove right into a beautifully sunny landscape dusted with what looked like frosting sugar. I saw some drivers who seemed not to know what to do as they drove into the squall. Some even pulled off to the side hoping, I guess, that it would move on, which it did. Either that or it just spent itself out.
The papers are full of stories of descriptions of wonderful places to ski; the outdoor memorial family skating rink in Falmouth is open. The information is out about upcoming winter carnivals and "winterfests." All wonderful, winter-in-Maine traditions for the young, eager and able. Maine is also one huge art colony. From the renowned Portland Museum of Art, Barridoff Galleries, Jameson Art Group all in Portland to
such interesting galleries as Bayview Gallery in Camden and Brunswick, Carver Hill Gallery in Rockport, The Firehouse Gallery in Damariscotta, Home and Away in Kennebunkport, Turtle Gallery in Deer Isle, and the Kicking Bull in Wells. These are just a few, and of course, there is a lot of art in such places as the Brick Store Museum in Kennebunk. And if art isn't your interest, there is music and theater from high schools to very professional productions in many community theaters.
While "summer theater" is widespread, local thespians strut their stuff all year round.
An award was given recently to an artist for his rather comic illustration of tennis lessons at the Kennebunk(port) River Club. It shows a crowded country club tennis court with dozens of people in various poses of lobbing, backhanding, stretching, underhanding, overhanding, hanging over the net, in and out of bounds, facing off, flopping down. It's one of those pieces of work you can look at over and over and always see something amusingly different. It caught my eye and I would like to see the original, but would settle for a nice reprint.
Maine in Winter. No need to get bored. The University has classes, the Community Colleges have classes, the local high school and senior services programs have much to do. Enjoy.
janicemajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
The papers are full of stories of descriptions of wonderful places to ski; the outdoor memorial family skating rink in Falmouth is open. The information is out about upcoming winter carnivals and "winterfests." All wonderful, winter-in-Maine traditions for the young, eager and able. Maine is also one huge art colony. From the renowned Portland Museum of Art, Barridoff Galleries, Jameson Art Group all in Portland to
such interesting galleries as Bayview Gallery in Camden and Brunswick, Carver Hill Gallery in Rockport, The Firehouse Gallery in Damariscotta, Home and Away in Kennebunkport, Turtle Gallery in Deer Isle, and the Kicking Bull in Wells. These are just a few, and of course, there is a lot of art in such places as the Brick Store Museum in Kennebunk. And if art isn't your interest, there is music and theater from high schools to very professional productions in many community theaters.
While "summer theater" is widespread, local thespians strut their stuff all year round.
An award was given recently to an artist for his rather comic illustration of tennis lessons at the Kennebunk(port) River Club. It shows a crowded country club tennis court with dozens of people in various poses of lobbing, backhanding, stretching, underhanding, overhanding, hanging over the net, in and out of bounds, facing off, flopping down. It's one of those pieces of work you can look at over and over and always see something amusingly different. It caught my eye and I would like to see the original, but would settle for a nice reprint.
Maine in Winter. No need to get bored. The University has classes, the Community Colleges have classes, the local high school and senior services programs have much to do. Enjoy.
janicemajor
jmajor2@maine.rr.com
Monday, December 27, 2010
WINDING UP
This will be my last Mainely blog for this year.
The 26th of December was my Christmas with my family, those who were able to be here.
I am delighted to say, all three children with their spouses, and four of the busy grandchildren came. Missing were the married grands with their little ones, Aidric, Logan, Liem and Dominic. It would have been wonderful to have them here, but understandably it is a logistical nightmare to travel with one and three year olds, especially the day after a Christmas celebration. For one thing, kids don't usually take kindly to being taken away from their new Christmas toys.
Last night the storm moved in. THE storm which has dumped the white stuff all the way from North Carolina to Caribou, Maine. Monday is trash day in my community so I did a bit of shoveling by the garage door in order to take out the bags. There was a foot of snow right by the garage door, but worse than that there was a drift of about 30 inches just beyond it. I put on my old 9" Bean "Ladies' hunting boots" which I haven't put on for about five years. These are not the "Bean Boots" with rubber soles and leather tops, these are heavy treaded, all leather stompers. I wasn't sure I could bend my ankles enough to get them on. Great boots. Anyway, it is still snowing and blowing as I write this, but the "ground crew" will take care of the rest out front, and my very nice neighbor has offered to shovel off the patio.
This is Maine and we get these wild storms a couple of times every year in a good year.
This is our first major storm this season so we shouldn't complain. But the same people who were saying "I'll never complain about winter again" as the temperatures soar toward 100, are now saying "I'll never complain about the heat in August again." I try not to complain about weather. It's a real waste of brain power. Every year someone forgets how to negotiate our narrowed slippery roads and winds up in a tree. Every year some one goes off train on their sno-machine and ends up in a drift far from civilization. But today there was an accident at one of the ski resorts that no one expected. A lift cable slipped the pulley and dumped a lot of people twenty to thirty feet down the side of the mountain. One new commentator said there was a lot of fluffy snow which made their landings a little softer. Tell that to the people who ended up in the hospital with injuries.
When you land on the side of a mountain chances are you are going to suffer some pretty serious injuries as well as a mental trauma. How to spoil a great Christmas holiday!
I wanted to give a very local newspaper to someone and called for a subscription. The subscription office is in the Philippines. Nice people, I am sure. But they sent the wrong paper (they are a subscription factory) and when I called to straighten it out, I could barely understand the phone persona (a man) and he could not figure out how to handle it. He gave me a number to call, when I told him he was not effectively dealing with the issue. That number took me back to the Philippines to another thickly accented person, female, who also could not straighten it out. She said, "Someone will contact you within 24 hours." I said, "I expect to hear from someone withing 30 minutes." End of story. I mean, end of story. No one has called and it is now two hours later. "This is the most inefficient order service I have ever dealt with. Just cancel everything and I will buy the paper and mail it to her." and when they hung up - both of them - said, "Thank you for subscribing to Portsmouth Herald." I fairly screamed, "I did not subscribe to Portsmouth Herald! I will not pay for Portsmouth Herald. Do not deliver Portsmouth Herald!" I hope the call was monitored for quality control.
So, maybe next year. From Scarborough, Maine Janice Major Happy 2011.
The 26th of December was my Christmas with my family, those who were able to be here.
I am delighted to say, all three children with their spouses, and four of the busy grandchildren came. Missing were the married grands with their little ones, Aidric, Logan, Liem and Dominic. It would have been wonderful to have them here, but understandably it is a logistical nightmare to travel with one and three year olds, especially the day after a Christmas celebration. For one thing, kids don't usually take kindly to being taken away from their new Christmas toys.
Last night the storm moved in. THE storm which has dumped the white stuff all the way from North Carolina to Caribou, Maine. Monday is trash day in my community so I did a bit of shoveling by the garage door in order to take out the bags. There was a foot of snow right by the garage door, but worse than that there was a drift of about 30 inches just beyond it. I put on my old 9" Bean "Ladies' hunting boots" which I haven't put on for about five years. These are not the "Bean Boots" with rubber soles and leather tops, these are heavy treaded, all leather stompers. I wasn't sure I could bend my ankles enough to get them on. Great boots. Anyway, it is still snowing and blowing as I write this, but the "ground crew" will take care of the rest out front, and my very nice neighbor has offered to shovel off the patio.
This is Maine and we get these wild storms a couple of times every year in a good year.
This is our first major storm this season so we shouldn't complain. But the same people who were saying "I'll never complain about winter again" as the temperatures soar toward 100, are now saying "I'll never complain about the heat in August again." I try not to complain about weather. It's a real waste of brain power. Every year someone forgets how to negotiate our narrowed slippery roads and winds up in a tree. Every year some one goes off train on their sno-machine and ends up in a drift far from civilization. But today there was an accident at one of the ski resorts that no one expected. A lift cable slipped the pulley and dumped a lot of people twenty to thirty feet down the side of the mountain. One new commentator said there was a lot of fluffy snow which made their landings a little softer. Tell that to the people who ended up in the hospital with injuries.
When you land on the side of a mountain chances are you are going to suffer some pretty serious injuries as well as a mental trauma. How to spoil a great Christmas holiday!
I wanted to give a very local newspaper to someone and called for a subscription. The subscription office is in the Philippines. Nice people, I am sure. But they sent the wrong paper (they are a subscription factory) and when I called to straighten it out, I could barely understand the phone persona (a man) and he could not figure out how to handle it. He gave me a number to call, when I told him he was not effectively dealing with the issue. That number took me back to the Philippines to another thickly accented person, female, who also could not straighten it out. She said, "Someone will contact you within 24 hours." I said, "I expect to hear from someone withing 30 minutes." End of story. I mean, end of story. No one has called and it is now two hours later. "This is the most inefficient order service I have ever dealt with. Just cancel everything and I will buy the paper and mail it to her." and when they hung up - both of them - said, "Thank you for subscribing to Portsmouth Herald." I fairly screamed, "I did not subscribe to Portsmouth Herald! I will not pay for Portsmouth Herald. Do not deliver Portsmouth Herald!" I hope the call was monitored for quality control.
So, maybe next year. From Scarborough, Maine Janice Major Happy 2011.
Friday, December 24, 2010
The Day Before Christmas -
Yes, it's the day before Christmas in Maine -
There is snow on the ground. The sun is shining, but the warmth is not significant enough to melt it away, so Saint Nicholas will have easy sledding. In my travels I pass many Christmas tree farms where rows of balsam firs, Maine's preferred tree, are growing. Some are no more than six inches tall, and some are over six feet. The tree farmer carefully tends them through the years, keeping them in symetrical shape and making sure no critters are infesting them. Some farms raise blue spruce and some raise Scotch pines. Nothing compares to the balsam for aroma. Branches are cut for wreaths and swags, and other artistic creations. Small twigs are twined into "kissing balls" to be hung in doorways or from the ceiling. One artistic greens person fashioned a Christmas tree on a wire frame. It was decorated for with berries and cones to be hung on a door in place of a wreath.
The Maine Tree is the Pine; the Maine Flower is the Pine Cone. But the Maine Christmas Tree is a Fir Balsam, preferable selected by the kids in a big "forest" of nearly perfect trees, cut by a parent who patiently lets the kids have a turn with the saw, doesn't mind a little pitch on the hands, or "spills" in the trunk of the car. If the tree is big it will ride home like a trophy on top, butt forward so the wind doesn't destroy the branches.
There was a time not so many years ago when after Christmas the kids would collect all the trees from the curb before the city trucks came around. They would pile all up down at the skating rink, or at some favorite gather spot, and light them for a stupendous fire. The combination of dried out branches, and sap still sealed in would throw sparks high into the air and the aroma would spread over the neighborhood.
Dangerous? No doubt it was. And it probably created a bit of pollution, too. But it was part of the winter post-Christmas ritual. And almost as much fun as Christmas itself.
janice major
scarborough maine 12/24/10
There is snow on the ground. The sun is shining, but the warmth is not significant enough to melt it away, so Saint Nicholas will have easy sledding. In my travels I pass many Christmas tree farms where rows of balsam firs, Maine's preferred tree, are growing. Some are no more than six inches tall, and some are over six feet. The tree farmer carefully tends them through the years, keeping them in symetrical shape and making sure no critters are infesting them. Some farms raise blue spruce and some raise Scotch pines. Nothing compares to the balsam for aroma. Branches are cut for wreaths and swags, and other artistic creations. Small twigs are twined into "kissing balls" to be hung in doorways or from the ceiling. One artistic greens person fashioned a Christmas tree on a wire frame. It was decorated for with berries and cones to be hung on a door in place of a wreath.
The Maine Tree is the Pine; the Maine Flower is the Pine Cone. But the Maine Christmas Tree is a Fir Balsam, preferable selected by the kids in a big "forest" of nearly perfect trees, cut by a parent who patiently lets the kids have a turn with the saw, doesn't mind a little pitch on the hands, or "spills" in the trunk of the car. If the tree is big it will ride home like a trophy on top, butt forward so the wind doesn't destroy the branches.
There was a time not so many years ago when after Christmas the kids would collect all the trees from the curb before the city trucks came around. They would pile all up down at the skating rink, or at some favorite gather spot, and light them for a stupendous fire. The combination of dried out branches, and sap still sealed in would throw sparks high into the air and the aroma would spread over the neighborhood.
Dangerous? No doubt it was. And it probably created a bit of pollution, too. But it was part of the winter post-Christmas ritual. And almost as much fun as Christmas itself.
janice major
scarborough maine 12/24/10
Monday, December 20, 2010
AND SUDDENLY IT'S WINTER ====
Of course, we knew it would eventually come, and today in the late afternoon it did. SNOW, WHITE PURE AND FLUFFY. The romantic kind that makes The Christmas Song have real meaning. The wind blew and the flakes swirled. I don't love the stuff, but the first one, if not too heavy, is sort of enchanting.
In honor of the season, I have put up a Christmas tree. My grandson Noah and I went to get it. No, we didn't go into the woods for it, we bought a nice balsam fir that just fit in the trunk of the car, at a nearby nursery. Noah spent most of the day with me as he allowed me to talk with him on Community Focus about being a first year college kid a long way from home. Maine has a very good University; he wound up in Ohio. Anyway, the tree is up and it is drinking water at the rate of a gallon a day. I have strung the lights and the bulbs are ready to hang. No hurry.
I speak often of my nearly daily trips to Yarmouth where Nick can run in a fenced yard. The road, as I have mentioned, was cut through some very large glacial rock. As the weather changes the rocks change. Yes they do! And right now because we have had some warm days and they retained the heat into night, and then moisture cooled on them, they are totally bearded with icicles on one side of the road. I would take pictures of it, but it is a busy highway and I would be likely to get picked off by a passing motorist.No one seems to care the least for the speed limit.
I noticed today that there is a large building being constructed on the road to the Maine Mall. It will be interesting to see how it develops and what it is for. The Maine Medical Center has reconstructed the large empty strip mall near me. I understand it will house some cancer treatment facility, and a blood lab. As I drive around I see quite a lot of construction going on, and Route 1 between Falmouth and Yarmouth is still under construction. The "flag men" who were neither men nor holding flags, were bundled with layers of winter wear, heads helmeted, ear muffs down, face masks up to their noses. They looked like a robot my kids had. Nothing showing but the eyes. God bless them. They don't have an easy job in Maine.
Some intrepid neighbors here in the Creek purchased a new outdoor grill, and today as the snowflakes were beginning to fall, they were on their patio getting it going. They forewarned me so I would call the fire department in case I smelled the smoke. I wouldn't be out there cooking at this time of year, but to each his own. Maine people are hardy souls (although I think these new neighbors are from away. Maybe that's why they didn't know any better than to cook out in December. Very nice people, but I don't give advice to anyone any more. Gets me in trouble.
Christmas is only a few days away. Am I all done? No, but the maple syrup is waiting; there are candles in the windows, a wreath on the door and a tree in the sun room. Bring it on.
Merry Christmas, Peace, Comfort and Good Health to all.
Janice Major
In honor of the season, I have put up a Christmas tree. My grandson Noah and I went to get it. No, we didn't go into the woods for it, we bought a nice balsam fir that just fit in the trunk of the car, at a nearby nursery. Noah spent most of the day with me as he allowed me to talk with him on Community Focus about being a first year college kid a long way from home. Maine has a very good University; he wound up in Ohio. Anyway, the tree is up and it is drinking water at the rate of a gallon a day. I have strung the lights and the bulbs are ready to hang. No hurry.
I speak often of my nearly daily trips to Yarmouth where Nick can run in a fenced yard. The road, as I have mentioned, was cut through some very large glacial rock. As the weather changes the rocks change. Yes they do! And right now because we have had some warm days and they retained the heat into night, and then moisture cooled on them, they are totally bearded with icicles on one side of the road. I would take pictures of it, but it is a busy highway and I would be likely to get picked off by a passing motorist.No one seems to care the least for the speed limit.
I noticed today that there is a large building being constructed on the road to the Maine Mall. It will be interesting to see how it develops and what it is for. The Maine Medical Center has reconstructed the large empty strip mall near me. I understand it will house some cancer treatment facility, and a blood lab. As I drive around I see quite a lot of construction going on, and Route 1 between Falmouth and Yarmouth is still under construction. The "flag men" who were neither men nor holding flags, were bundled with layers of winter wear, heads helmeted, ear muffs down, face masks up to their noses. They looked like a robot my kids had. Nothing showing but the eyes. God bless them. They don't have an easy job in Maine.
Some intrepid neighbors here in the Creek purchased a new outdoor grill, and today as the snowflakes were beginning to fall, they were on their patio getting it going. They forewarned me so I would call the fire department in case I smelled the smoke. I wouldn't be out there cooking at this time of year, but to each his own. Maine people are hardy souls (although I think these new neighbors are from away. Maybe that's why they didn't know any better than to cook out in December. Very nice people, but I don't give advice to anyone any more. Gets me in trouble.
Christmas is only a few days away. Am I all done? No, but the maple syrup is waiting; there are candles in the windows, a wreath on the door and a tree in the sun room. Bring it on.
Merry Christmas, Peace, Comfort and Good Health to all.
Janice Major
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