Does anyone else think Deval Patrick is done as Governor of Massachusetts

I was surprised when Deval Patrick won the governor’s office in Massachusetts. Not because I was opposed to his positions on public matters, but because he seemed sort of meek. Not a take charge kind of guy. And that seems to have been proven true. Isn't it possible a competent administrator would have realized that the public swimming pools should be kept open during a heat wave? It's an admittedly small item, but indicative of a guy out of touch or surrounded by a sleeping staff.

At this juncture I would find it even more remarkable if he ran again and won again.

On the other hand, Charlie Baker isn’t much to write home about. I wonder how many millions of dollars he made annually as the head of Blue Cross/Blue Shield of Massachusetts? Are enough people thrilled with the way BC/BS has treated them over the last few years to want to vote Mr. Baker in as governor.

And Christy Mihos is a joke. He’s an Independent, a Republican, next he’ll run as a Democrat! He just wants to be governor for Christ's sake! Is he possibly the reason gasoline is so expensive on the Cape? He owns all those Christy’s gas stations and convenience stores.

Well, now that you look at the candidates maybe it isn’t so far-fetched to think that Mr. Patrick might win again. But I’m betting he finds something else to do with his time. Perhaps the President could keep him busy. Or maybe Blue Cross needs a new leader.

Piping Plovers are too stupid to survive

That’s just a plain and simple fact. Any bird that makes a nest in a small indentation in the sand of a busy roadway should just be extinct! Remember Darwin. Remember all the millions of species that have come and gone.

The idea of closing whole beaches for weeks at a time so this incredibly dumb bird can once again fail to successfully nest, lay an egg and fledge a chick is nuts on our part. I was told the Town of Yarmouth no longer does fireworks on the 4th because it falls during the theoretical nesting season for these dopey things. Can you imagine?

And if a pair of plovers actually did nest near you, in addition to closing the entire beach for fear we might scare the little darlings, the environmentalists come and fence the nest in to prevent raccoons and foxes from eating the eggs. Tough luck raccoons and foxes.

I mean really, have you tried to drive your 4-wheel truck down a beach in New England recently. Apparently some consider your conduct similar to that of a mass murderer.

I’m sticking with what I know. Fried up whole these little things taste just like chicken!

A Frame of Mind

I’m in the middle of an experiment. I am refusing to cut all the grass at once! Probably sounds pretty silly. But here’s the thing. I’m trying to get into the frame of mind called “retirement”. And the trouble I’m having is this: when I start a chore I feel I must finish it immediately because, after all, I have to get back to work on Monday. Right? No, I don’t. So I can take my time in doing certain things if I can only develop the mentality. Thus, the seemingly silly experiment with cutting a little grass at a time.

Gaining this outlook is harder than you might think. Everyone assumes they will retire and just while away the time. But after 40+ years of rushing everything because of the time restraints around work, I’m finding it difficult to think about, perhaps, doing it tomorrow because today is a swell beach day! Or today is too hot to cut the grass, it can wait. Or, heaven forbid, I don’t feel like it today! I’ll let you know how it goes.

The loss of sweet regulation

Martha and I were married for almost 40 years when she passed away. In addition to being beautiful, smart, kind and sensible, she was a wonderful guide to me in regard to social behavior. On more than one occasion, as we drove to someone’s house for dinner, she would quietly suggest that I let the host and hostess do some of the talking and try not to speak as loudly to everyone as I am inclined to do!

I get nervous in social situations because I’m basically very shy. Work and life in general have caused me to attempt to overcome this but I will fill almost any pause in a conversation. And loudly, if I’m not conscious of it.

I went out to dinner with a couple recently. I had a good time. We were in a small, but excellent, restaurant. Two days after this dinner I suddenly realized, light dawns over Marblehead, that everyone in the place must have had to listen to all my stories whether they wanted to or not. And I’m not sure the lovely people I was with got to say the proverbial two words.

How quickly some of us regress!

A deep, but brief, thought for Harvard professors

Don't ever yell at a cop, especially in regard to their mothers, unless you want to be arrested.

Parking at the supermarket

Does anyone know the formula for assigning the number of handicapped parking spaces to a retail store lot?

I went to the supermarket recently. It is “high” season here on Cape Cod. It’s also the first time the sun has appeared this summer so everyone in New England is here. And when I went to the supermarket, all the elderly, at least, were at the supermarket buying hundreds of dollars in groceries to feed their famished grandchildren. But I digress.

Every spot in the supermarket parking lot was full except for every single one of the handicapped spaces. Of which there are dozens and dozens. Do the officials in charge decide this number of spaces based on the proportion of handicapped in the general population assuming all of them would come to this on market at the same time or what? And where are all these handicapped drivers?

Have you ever been shopping and seen all the handicapped spaces occupied? Have you ever seen even half of them being used? One or two?

Do you know what a handicapped space is actually called? A damn fine parking space!

Chickens and such

I’m been thinking quite a bit lately about chickens. This, no doubt, is what happens to the elderly when they lose touch with real things like jobs and politics.

I don’t believe I could keep them here in my residential neighborhood. It would probably run afoul of the zoning or historic district or something. And I’m not sure I want the actual responsibility. What would happen to my Silkies or Rhode Island Reds while I was traveling to visit friends and relatives. Assuming I still have any of either after I start raising chickens.

And, of course, they do smell. I don’t mind it but you can never be sure what might bother the neighbors.

The trouble seems to be that I am genetically predisposed to raise chickens. I have a terrible urge to buy a non-running, yellow school bus and haul it to my side yard to be placed on blocks and raise the chickens there. I know. That would definitely get me in deep with the neighbors and the zoning guys and the historic house ladies.

The historic house ladies go to court each December to get a cease and desist order because of my Christmas lights and various lawn decorations. Again, my heritage requires blinking, multi-colored lights in copious amounts including on metal silhouettes of deer and sleighs and Santas and Christmas trees. We are supposed to refrain from all this and just have a candle in each window with a white, non-blinking light.

I do try but dared if I don’t fall off the white light wagon sometime early in December every year. About a week later the official looking envelope arrives pointing out the error of my ways and instructing me to remove all this unsightly blight in 30 days which is always just about when I would be taking it all down anyway so it is a win, win for all concerned.

But back to chickens….