Archive » October 2020 » Columns

by Jesse S. Sommer

Mark King

Edward Hyde Clarke

Much ink will soon be spilled on the United States presidential election and its fallout. So before that cacophony drowns out the local concerns that more directly impact our lives, I’d like to recognize two leaders of a more apolitical sort — a King and a president — to thank them for their selfless service to our collective hometown.

Now join me in a deep breath, Albanites! No matter what, if you’re reading this column, you’re a critical member of the oft-contentious, oft-colorful family of Enterprise subscribers. And if we pledge to follow the examples of Mark King and Edward Hyde Clarke, we’ll be OK.

Without further ado:

Mark King is no stranger to these pages, which last year reported on his role in establishing the Helderberg Conservation Corridor. As the executive director (and one of the founders) of the Mohawk Hudson Land Conservancy, Mark is directly responsible for the environmental conservation of over 12,500 acres of natural, agricultural, and cultural landscapes throughout Albany, Schenectady, and Montgomery counties.

For nearly thirty years, MHLC has protected (and erected) wildlife preserves, sustainable recreational spaces, scenic vistas, and educational programs, all the while shoring up the Capital Region’s natural resources, clean water, clean air, and working landscapes for both farming and forestry. “If my dream came true,” Mark told the Enterprise in May 2019, “I’d like to see a protected path from the Catskills to the Adirondacks.”

Just how many thousands are unwittingly advantaged by his vision and initiative? Always eager to keep tabs on his projects, I emailed Mark when I returned from an overseas deployment. Stressing no urgency to respond, I asked if he’d be so kind “as to clue me in as to where efforts stand vis-à-vis the campaign to save/conserve the Picard property, the Heldeberg Workshop property, and the Bender Melon Farm.”  He replied promptly.

“Picard is in its final stages,” he wrote. “We have prevailed in court and now have the exclusive right to purchase the property as [long] as 80% is conserved ... we should have things finalized in the next couple of weeks if things go as planned. Bender is at an exciting point. Right now we need 162k to close, but only have until Oct. 29th.”

In regards to the historic Bender Melon Farm, The Enterprise reported four weeks ago that MHLC was “$90,000 short of its $1.2 million goal” to buy it; an Oct. 19 post on the MHLC website then announced that it was in need of just $57,000 more. By the time this column goes to press, we’ll have a nail-biting verdict on what Mark called a “make or break month.”

Though I rarely impose on a G-d with more pressing concerns, I make exception now to pray that our town has rallied to manifest this unparalleled community asset — comprised of the Hilton Barn, the Albany County Helderberg-Hudson Rail Trail, and the Bender Melon Farm — which intends to “link communities, history, recreation, and conservation.”

(As an aside, it was the proposed commercial development of the Bender Melon Farm a dozen years ago which first triggered my own penchant for community activism. I’m grateful to MHLC for its stewardship of this issue long after life nudged me towards other pursuits.)

No less impressive are Mark’s efforts pertaining to the 87-acre Picard Grove property, which runs along the base of the Helderberg escarpment in the midst of the Helderberg Conservation Corridor.  After intrepid Enterprise reporting and a rousing editorial raised awareness of the Grove’s recklessly hasty impending below-market-value sale to a developer, the public sprang into action; MHLC gave agency to its voice.

“The deal is not yet sealed,” Mark told the Enterprise in its Sept. 23 edition. “It’s a little bit of a cliffhanger beneath the cliff.” Yet Mark’s team is working steadily towards an outcome that will preserve acreage as integral to our hometown’s identity as the name “New Scotland” itself.

And what of that blissfully serene 250-acre Heldeberg (still inexplicably containing no “R”) Workshop wetland forest where I spent so many of my childhood summers? Something about Board Chairman Alvin Breisch’s announcement that Heldeberg Workshop had “entered into a  partnership with MHLC to permanently protect [its] lands from development” permitted a sigh of relief. As in: “Phew! King is on the case.”

Granted, my praise for Mark is shorthand for the eternally grateful compliments due the other MHLC members who work tirelessly on these endeavors, not to mention the legion of Good Samaritans who open their wallets to fund fulfillment of shared dreams. To borrow a sentiment from news anchor Tom Brokaw’s farewell on Dec. 1, 2004, Mark is “simply the most conspicuous part” of an all-encompassing communal ambition. I wish I could personally thank every spoke in that wheel right now, but Enterprise editor Melissa Hale-Spencer gets rather testy when I approach 2,000 words.

Which is why my commendations to E. Hyde Clarke must be interpreted through the lens of broader praise. For as president of the Upper Washington Avenue Neighborhood Association (UWANA) in the City of Albany’s Twelfth Ward, his role is primarily organizational — representing the will of his community by channeling its energy, aptitudes, and demands in a manner that augments its legal power.

Don’t be fooled by Clarke’s unassuming demeanor; beneath a signature smile and soft-spoken timbre is a tenacious community advocate with a strategic grasp of the legal process. I met Hyde in 2012, at the dawn of his career as a local land-use attorney. As with every recent law-school graduate, I asked him how on earth he could’ve been so masochistically stupid as to become a lawyer.

“I wanted to serve my community,” he said, shrugging.

…. Um, what?

The last eight years offer concrete proof that what might’ve been a cliché is in fact his ethos. Hyde sees the law not as a profession, but as a tool — or, better, one of many arrows in the quiver of community muscle. Nowhere is this more evident than in his role in effectuating UWANA’s firm commitment to its character.

Late last year, Stewart’s Shops Inc., proposed to demolish the abandoned former KeyBank on the corner of Washington and Colvin Avenues, along with two existing multi-family homes, so as to construct a two-story convenience store with gas pumps.

Neighbors opposed to suddenly residing next to a gas station — which would sit directly across the street from a rival gas station and just one block down the road from another — were aghast. Others rather liked the prospect of being within walking distance of award-winning ice cream and milk. As UWANA president, Hyde had the unenviable task of identifying, and then reconciling, many competing interests.

When this process ultimately revealed that most neighbors demanded changes in Stewarts’s application — less demolition, implementation of traffic safety precautions, fewer gas pumps, more accessibility from the sidewalk — Hyde leveraged his legal background to engage at the planning-board level, working to secure his neighbors’ desires while concurrently accommodating the commercial objectives of an interested applicant.

As has repeatedly been the case — from Altamont to Voorheesville to, eventually, the remotest regions of the solar system — Stewarts proved unwilling to make any of the requested changes. This compelled Hyde to articulate the fraught decision that a conditional use permit be denied; on Aug. 25, 2020, the planning board voted down Stewarts’s application.

Hyde was able to influence this process only because so many passionate and knowledgeable advocates lent their voices to pushing back on Stewarts’s application; their activism empowered Hyde to argue for solutions agreeable to all parties.

As Hyde told me, change often forces communities into a position of opposition; their gut reaction is to oppose any variation to an existing way of life. But Hyde saw his role as that of a broker — looking at all sides to extract mutual interests, thereby deriving a balance between permitting development and safeguarding a neighborhood ecosystem.

Yet in the face of Stewarts’s unrelenting and serial intransigence, Hyde realized that the community’s opposition would be vulnerable if expressed as merely that: community opposition. He therefore cleverly pivoted to a different tactic, one that would give his neighbors’ voices the authority of law.

In 2017, the city of Albany passed the Unified Sustainable Development Ordinance (USDO), which zoned the said residential apartments on Washington Avenue as “Mixed Use Neighborhood Commercial” (MU-NC). Arguing that these properties (which had always been residences) were zoned incorrectly — and therefore seemingly permitted a use not in accordance with the character of the neighborhood — Hyde drafted a lengthy “zone change” petition to have the properties rezoned residentially (to wit: R-2).

As Hyde stated: “This is not a Stewart’s issue. It’s a land-use issue. The obstacle to [Stewarts’s] commercial imperative shouldn’t be seen as knee-jerk NIMBY [Not-In-My-Backyard] opposition, but rather as a result of a properly-devised law which would never have permitted such a massive operation in the middle of a close-knit community comprised of young families and seniors.”

In short, Hyde went about endowing the community’s voice with legal legitimacy.

“I don’t want developers to feel that they have to pass some litmus test every time construction is proposed,” Hyde explained in an email. “I want them to adhere to a law that defines how to be a good neighbor, and which then grants them commercial predictability and an easier path to approval. If a non-residential structure is proposed, it should comply with a standard that protects existing property owners. That’ll also ensure [the business] is well-received and supported by its intended patrons.”

I noted that his approach recalled 20th-Century Supreme Court Justice Louis D. Brandeis’s concept of a “lawyer for the situation,” and asked if that was how he perceived his role.

“Sort of,” he wrote back. “We all want to see abandoned buildings reused or redeveloped. But that can’t be the objective in and of itself. Commercial progress has to ‘fit,’ has to enhance a community, not degrade it. I’m ready to help any entrepreneur meet that threshold, if they’re ready to join our neighborhood in good faith.”

I told neither Mr. King nor Mr. Clarke that I’d be highlighting them in my monthly column; they’re both likely mortified that I’ve done so. They don’t seek the limelight, and generally slip into the media’s pages, posts, spots, segments, and broadcasts incident only to their organizational missions.

But that’s precisely the point. They selflessly dedicate themselves to advancing communal causes, representing community concerns, and bettering the lives of both their neighbors and future generations that will unknowingly enjoy the fruits of their labor.

Thank you, guys. You’re two of the many reasons that turning off cable news is so refreshing.  Because in that silence, we have space to note that behind all the competing lawn signs are scores of people who advance our common destinies, bind our families together, and ensure that someone is in charge of serving the robust and delicious Thanksgiving feast over which our beloved yet crazy uncles can spout off.

I sign-off by once more adapting Tom Brokaw’s words to honor these hometown heroes whose examples we’d do well to bear in mind on the eve of a tragically polarizing presidential election. Like Mark and Hyde, may we work together to advance that “vital legacy of common effort to find common ground ... on which to solve our most vexing problems.”

For “they did not give up on the idea that we’re all in this together.”

Captain Jesse Sommer is an Army officer and lifelong resident of Albany County.  His father, Dean Sommer, is a senior partner at Young/Sommer LLC, the law firm where Edward Hyde Clarke works.  Jesse welcomes your thoughts at .

Editor’s Note:  The Enterprise reported earlier this week that Picard’s Grove is now successfully under a conservation easement. 

 

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Post date: 
October 29, 2020

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by John R. Williams

Some of the Old Men of the Mountain are beginning to come out of the woodwork. There have been a few meetings at a couple of places on different days. They all got together at the Chuck Wagon last Tuesday and, according to reports, there were about 10 there. Most, however, are still staying away from crowds and eating establishments.

It was reported that some of the conversation at the Chuck Wagon was on motorcycles and motorcycle repair, but there was also a discussion on bees. Honeybees are extremely important as well as butterflies.

Without these bees we don’t eat. As we have reported before, there is an apiarist (beekeeper) in the midst of the OMOTM. The OF who is the beekeeper was telling some of the other OFs that, instead of hauling all his bees to North Carolina for over the winter as he usually does, the bee-keeping family has decided they are going to keep them here. This Carolina trip has been in the column before.

The OF reported that his son found an article on keeping bees in Canada and how the Canadians keep their bees over the winter. So the OMOTM beekeeper and his son refurbished a chicken coop on their farm into a controlled atmosphere for keeping bees and they are going to use the converted chicken coop to keep the bees right on their farm over the winter months.

This endeavor, the OF told the group, will save them travel time back and forth plus they will not have to quarantine themselves for 14 days upon the return to New York. Ever wonder where Noah kept his bees? In his archives.

Other than the honeybee talk the conversations were rather routine and regular OMOTM conversation the OG on the phone said.

 

“United Statesicans”

In the paper the other day there was a conversation that hinged on the same discussion that the OFs had a while back. Sometime before whatever country it was that sent us this nasty little germ, the OFs would have momentary deep discussions — at least for the OMOTM.

This topic was on the word “Canadians.” We are Americans, Canadians are Canadians, Mexicans are Mexicans. Brazilians are Brazilians, so on, and so on. Canada and the United States are in North America. Mexico is in Central America. Brazil, Chile etc., are in South America. Doesn’t that make us all Americans? Why are we singled out as Americans?

This scribe thinks they really all are Americans, but it is tough to say “United Statesicans.” It is much easier to just stick the “icans” to Canada, and come up with Canadians, and Mexico to come up with Mexicans, etc. etc.

Then again, the U.S. is a conglomerate of a group of states into one country instead of being like South America where that part of the continent is a group of separate countries confined to one geographical land mass.

An OF at the time said, “Can you imagine the United States being like Europe with each state a country having its own currency. Holy cow! What a mess that would be.”

Another OF chimed in, “What would we call those from North and South Dakota, or even us from New York, and how about Massachusetts?”

Yet another OF said, “It is good we are all called Americans, but still again so are all the others in our hemisphere.”

Then an OF brought up the question of what about all indigenous people that inhabited the land before Amerigo Vespucci?

Enough of that, should we all be called Indians, now it becomes another can of worms.

 

Excursions

Now on to something else. Some of the OFs have the hobby of fishing. Some even couple this hobby along with other hobbies — as reported just a few weeks ago — motorcycle trips.

Fishing poles are easy to carry (as are some of the lures) and as these OFs travel around using one hobby to facilitate another like camping, and that one to facilitate another like fishing, they are able to make possible both of those from the motorcycle. The OFs into those hobbies are kept busy.

One OF mentioned that this fall has been great to do all three, and some of the pictures he has sent show that the OFs are having one heck of a good time. The latest excursion has been to Lake George and elsewhere in the Adirondacks.

One of the OFs says it gets him out, and social distancing is not a problem because most of the time he and a couple of other OGs are by themselves.

The fishing experiences in many cases are catch and release. When the OF is fishing by boat, it is still a lonely sport, and still outdoors, except when driving to wherever. No one ever said fishing is a contact sport, except on the Salmon River in Pulaski when the fish are running. Fishing is done by OFs into their eighties.

One of the OFs reported that, just to get out and enjoy the late fall weather and the color, they packed up a picnic lunch and took a ride to nowhere, had their lunch on a hilltop in the car, and then went home. Not a bad idea just to get out of the house.

Maxine (do you remember the crabby old lady?) said the leaves are falling faster than a politician’s approval ratings.

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October 29, 2020

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by John R. Williams

There are many topics the Old Men of the Mountain have discussed via the now technology-loaded instruments developed by ole Alex G. Bell. It is rumored that the original annoying communication tool was possibly invented by some guys like Elisha Gray, Antoino Maucei, or others.

Of course the current times are mentioned by those OMOTM because they are concerned about what is going on with medications because of their ages. The OFs were all hoping for a remedy that will work if you get the virus and a few maintain a cure is already out there.

Then there is the vaccine that appears to be close. One OF mentioned the vaccines that have been developed and how well they have worked.

An OF related that, at one point, this family doctor was a research doctor and the company he worked for closed, so he went into private practice. This doctor told the OF that the doctors and medical people that are in the research business are doing the best they can.

Many doctors or members of their family have the same illnesses that we all suffer from. The research people are not kidding around — they want the cure and they are devoting their lives on finding just that.

This OF said he will always remember that. This particular doctor was also not a pill-pushing doctor. The OF said he used to get a jumping nerve in his head that at times really hurt. When it jumped, the pain then would drop him to his knees; when the pain stopped, it went away like nothing happened and the OF was fine until this nerve jumped again.

To make a long story short, the doctor told the OF, “Oh, I have this problem too; you have trigeminal neuralgia.”

The OF said he thought this was something terrible and asked the doctor, “What do I do now?”

The doctor said, “Wear a hat.”

The OF said he now wears a hat all the time, and has never had the problem since. Worth the five bucks co-pay for that one.

 

Politics

Despite the OMOTM’s rule against talking politics, voting came up twice, and two OM thought that this election is going to be a mess, and why didn’t they leave well enough alone? You can tell we are Old MOTM.

One OF said, “What if you early vote, and one of the nominees running dies. You have already voted. Does any voting count then? Or another scenario could be that you voted and later on you find out the one you voted for is a skunk and you want to change your vote, now what?”

Another OF, who has a semi-common name, mentioned his mail gets screwed up every now and then. This OF also said that on his road one time there was a substitute carrier and everyone’s house was one house off.

The OF said he had the mail for the place next door, and they had the mail for the one next to them, etcetera, etcetera. This OF’s mail was delivered to the house next to him.

Admittedly this was only once in many years but it can happen. This is going to be a mess. Not one of the OFs really know whose idea voting by mail was but they think it is going to be crazy anyway.

One OF thought voting by mail will be a good idea with the way things are now to not have to go and mingle with all the people. Vote by mail and let the chips fall where they may.

The mess it’s going to make will create great entertainment with all the finger-pointing afterwards no matter who wins. One OF said there are going to be great paydays for lawyers coming up.

A final thought on voting: George Washington is the only president who didn’t blame the previous administration for his troubles.

 

Advice for Yankees

The few OFs spoken to had no other thoughts in common, other than the Yankees being out of the World Series this year. It is surprising how many of the OFs are Yankee managers and scream and yell at the TV.

One wants Boone to get some pitchers, and others want Boone to sit Sanchez down and let Higashioka catch, park Judge, and put Frazier in right field. Too bad Aaron Boone can’t hear all this abundant advice.

 

News 

Again, and it is just a few of the number of OFs called; the OFs have given up watching the news. Maybe it is because many are on the short end of the ruler, and watching the death count day after day is not fun, or necessary in the OFs’ opinion. These OFs rely on the “Flintstones” and “Happy Days” at supper time.

In the paper, about all the OFs contacted read is the obits and the funnies. Occasionally, a good grabbing lead-in to a story might pique their attention and the OF will read that, but a lot of the paper winds up in the landfill not read.

Those that get The Enterprise do read that to see what’s going on locally.

One OF mentioned that, from reading the obits, he sees how much longer older people are living. The OF said he is approaching 84 (which means he is now 83) but people are hanging in there until their nineties.

The OF said it used to be quite rare, but now it seems to be more common. The discussion led to how we are constantly being told the air is bad, don’t drink milk, stay away from processed foods and red meat, and the list goes on and on, even to the point we take too many pills.

The question was: Why are we living so much longer, and why do I feel so good at 83 when I am eating all the wrong stuff? Will you please pass me my hamburger and French fries.

Post date: 
October 22, 2020

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by Dennis Sullivan

— Photo by Caleb Zahnd

Bobbing for apples is a messy business.

People of a certain age will recall with fondness that, when the extended family gathered on Halloween night for food, conversation, and games, some of the kids got carried away with laughter. You could hear them across the room.

One of the games our family played on the hallowed eve — of el Día de los Muertos — was ducking or bobbing for apples. When I tell older folks about it, they say their family played it too.

Several dozen apples were set afloat in a large metal wash tub filled with maybe a foot of water; one of the adults overseeing the project — while the kids turned their backs so as not to cheat — pressed a coin into the flesh of one of the apples, covered the scar and set it afloat with the rest; you couldn’t tell which one it was. Back then, the prize was a dime or a quarter, which everyone liked.

One by one — I think by age — we kids knelt beside the tub and plunged our head deep down under to pin the winner against the side or bottom of the tub with grinned teeth.

It wasn’t easy; there was a time-limit; some of the kids couldn’t hold their breath and quickly shot back up gasping for air. The sorry soul took two or three deep breaths and was back under.

Part of the giddiness came from how crazy a person got, getting wet — hair, shirt, the floor — some panicked when they hit the water but it never stopped them. An aunt or an uncle stood by with a towel to help mop the sops off.

And someone always got the coin. Everybody was happy, not just the person who “won” but everybody because it was such good fun. I know it had to do with — at a subconscious level — reaffirming family. Plunging into a tub of water was a small price to pay.

No one in the family’s collected data on the event and I don’t recall anyone who won, or even if I did, but there was no envy; winning was luck.

And at no time were we told that a win signified something more than the coin, for example that the game foretold something about the future.

But for centuries in Europe, communities believed that that game, and divination games like it, foretold what was in store for the winner — he would be first to get married or the first to have a child. At some weddings now, the bride throws her bouquet into a group of “eligible” women and the person who catches it will be the first married.

Games of future-telling on Halloween are remnants of the life of herd-tending communities who considered it the eve of a new year — on November First, a new life-cycle began.

The famed Irish writer, Patrick Joyce, says in his beautiful two-volume classic “The Social History of Ancient Ireland,” that the herd-tending communities divided “The whole year .... into two parts — Summer from 1st May to 1st November, and winter from 1st November to 1st May.”

On the eve of the new year, when the light of day had already shifted, the pensive mind attended to the other world and the soul grew open to the future.

Even kings wanted to know. Ireland’s fifth-century Dathi, when visiting Sligo one Halloween, told the local druid to find out his future.

The story says the priest went up a hill and spent the night thinking; when he came down, he told Dathi what he saw — ancient sources say it all came true.

For those of lesser means, and without a druid to call upon, bobbing for apples and the “nut game” were their Halloween seers.

In the nut game, a young couple wanting to know what was in store for them, placed two nuts by the fireplace; the woman was one, the man, the other. How the nuts behaved in the heat foretold things to come. Friends and family looked on with delight.

If the nuts burned together, the couple would be married; if it took a long time, their marriage would last; and if the fire burned bright, happiness would be theirs.

But if one of the nuts got too hot and jumped away from the other, the pair would go their separate ways  — there’d be no wedding — and the nut who jumped away was responsible!

One of the paradoxes of Halloween is that its “ceremonies” have long dealt with not only the future but the past as well. The hallowed eve was a time when the community thought about the dead: friends, relatives, and saints who helped along the way.

Ethnologists say on Halloween the spirits of the dead came around the house looking for warmth, a cup of tea, and conversation, and then they’d be gone — the extended family in attendance.

Nobody ducks for apples any more. At some point, parents didn’t want their kids sticking their salivary mouths into a pool of water where other salivary mouths had been, even those of kin.

The game changed to chasing an apple on a string but the giddy laughter of diving into a tub of splashing water was gone — plus (sociologically) the family had radically changed.

Now, with the coronavirus upon us, bobbing for apples will never be played again, and disappear from cultural consciousness, except for the ethnologists. The human family has one less tool to consider its future.

In the old days, the ghosts wanted to come inside for warmth but now, with the virus, “inside” is a place of danger, an enemy, and, with winter coming (we’re told) it will worsen. Where will the dead go?

And what other means do we have to consider our future: as a family, a state, a nation, a species? We’re still struggling to talk to each other without ill-will and rancor — wasting precious psychological energy.

Halloween? Every day is Halloween now. Every day is the eve of a new dawn. Some of us have learned the benefit of wearing a mask but a lot are still having a hard time speaking with an open heart.

Boo!

Post date: 
October 22, 2020

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by Frank L. Palmeri

If you’ve been following me lately, you know that, after a lifetime of being a music-loving non-musician, I’ve started learning to play the guitar. As I continue on this journey, I’m more and more amazed about what an all-encompassing activity playing a musical instrument is.

Truly, anytime you see anyone playing an instrument really well, you are witnessing the fruits of much love, work, passion, and dedication. It’s just incredible that there are so many good musicians to enjoy, and so many who are willing to share their knowledge. Musicians are really great people.

Let’s break down the phrase “learning to play the guitar.” First of all, there are many kinds of guitars and similar stringed instruments like ukuleles, dulcimers, and banjos. Even keeping it strictly to guitars, there are six-strings, 12-strings, acoustic, electric, acoustic-electric, bass, classical, and guitars with various other string counts, shapes, sizes, and styles. So many choices for just one instrument!

Then there is the style of guitar music you want to learn. You name it and it’s out there: blues, rock, pop, folk, classical, traditional, flamenco, and on and on. The musical use of the guitar is limited only by one’s imagination and passion. It is hard to believe that one single musical instrument is so incredibly versatile.

Once you settle on a type of guitar and a type of music, you next have to consider how to study and learn. Again, there are so many choices it’s almost overwhelming: books, videos, YouTube, private lessons, group lessons, friends and family, church groups, or just listening and trying to emulate what you hear.

Many of the most famous guitarists had very little or no training, don’t know how to read music, and yet can play the frets off any guitar you hand them. The all-time greatest electric guitar player, Jimi Hendrix, was so poor growing up he started playing on a broomstick.

His version of “The Star Spangled Banner” as played at Woodstock still sets the gold standard for alternative versions of our national anthem all these years later. Not too bad. Maybe I should get a broomstick.

My first guitar instructor was not big on reading music or music theory. He was more about feel, repeating a few basic chords, and turning them into songs after a lot of practice.

My next teacher, a music-school graduate and professional musician, was all about music theory, reading music, and learning about all the technical aspects of guitar playing. He had a totally different outlook than my prior teacher.

Same as when you browse the countless learn-to-play-guitar YouTube videos — everyone has their own take, and it’s up to you to find someone you can relate to. So much involved in that one phrase, “learning to play the guitar.”

As far as actually playing the guitar goes, here again, there is so much to learn. One can be a rhythm guitarist, carrying the main melody of the song while others take the solos that we all love.

Of course you have “guitar heroes” like the gone-from-this-world-all-too-soon Eddie Van Halen, who made everyone want to quit their jobs and schooling to become lead guitarists who can “shred,” for better or worse.

You can concentrate on playing individual notes, picking out songs and hymns note for note. Or you can strum chords (technically three or more but sometimes only two notes at the same time) and maybe write songs and sing and play them to try to become the next Bob Dylan.

Of course classical guitar is a vastly different technique, and so is fingerpicking country-style, and bending/tapping notes like in heavy metal, and, and, and — you get the idea. You can study guitar your whole life, it seems, and still find more to learn.

Once you learn the basic mechanics of the guitar — to play all the notes and chords cleanly with good tone — you’d think you’re home free. Not! That’s when the whole “musical” aspect of it comes into play.

It’s one thing to play by yourself, but if you want to play with others, you have to be “in time” or “on the beat” at all times. You have to know when to “come in,” and when a simple nod of the head can mean to start or to stop or to take a break.

Music is really another language and, like any language, it has its often arcane rules. It helps very much to learn to “sight read” standard sheet music and “tab” (tablature, an alternative written musical notation) as well. Got all that?

As you can imagine by now, for any kind of guitar-playing, there is just so, so much practice involved to even do the basics well. Just getting your two hands to work together in a coordinated fashion is a challenge.

Heck, it even comes down to the individual fingers. When I was having trouble making a certain chord, my piano-teaching, organ-playing, choir-directing, lovely and talented-beyond-belief wife, Charlotte, said to me, “You tell that finger to just stay down there and not to move.”

Imagine that, now I’m talking to a single finger. Just when you thought you’ve seen and heard everything.

What it really boils down to is, if you want to play guitar or any musical instrument or even sing, you have to be dedicated, have a passion for it, and practice, practice, practice. The way we learn things is to repeat them over and over so we can develop “muscle memory” and then just do them without thinking about it.

I did this with touch typing, with motorcycle riding, and with various other skills. There is no shortcut, either. If you put in lots and lots of hard, consistent work, you’ll slowly get better and better over time. It really is as simple as that.

I’ve been telling people that every time I have a good practice session I get a tenth of a millimeter better. One millimeter is a tiny distance, about as wide as one of the letters in this sentence, and a tenth of that is that much smaller, but that’s truly how I feel.

The fact that I seem to be getting this tiny bit better over time is just enough motivation to keep me going. In fact, the other day my wife heard me practicing and said, “That sounds like music.”

Wow. For a beginning guitar player, that kind of compliment, coming from someone as accomplished as she is, is as good as it gets.

At a local music store, you had to fill out a form to get a free lesson. As I was depositing my entry, I couldn’t help but notice the completed form that was already on the top of the stack. On the line where it asked “What are your goals in learning to play music?” was this, scrawled in big, blocky, child-like letters: “MAKE ME A STAR!”

Forgetting about our celebrity-obsessed culture for a moment, if the person would have answered something like “to learn how to play to the best of my ability,” ironically, he or she may really someday become a “star.”

No one can make you become a star, or a good husband, teacher, mechanic, etc. You have to work, and work hard, to succeed at anything in life. One would think that was common knowledge. Guess not!

If you’ve been thinking about starting a musical instrument, an exercise program, learning another language, or whatever, I urge you to stop thinking about it and just get off the couch and do it. Now that I know learning music is something I can at least attempt, I only wish I’d gotten started 20 years ago. Sigh.

The best musicians started when they were kids. So don’t just think about it or wait for it to come. Reach out and grab it and do it! You can if you want to. Yes, you really can.

Music is a gift that transcends ages and cultures. To finally be learning to make it myself is truly a dream come true.

Post date: 
October 15, 2020

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by John R. Williams

The phone calls today brought information that some of the Old Men of the Mountain are gathering in small groups of three to five people. There appears to be three groups of these OMOTM getting together.

However, they are not combined as a unit. One group of three gathers every now and then; this is a group of guys that have a common interest. Another group apparently meets on Friday, and another holds to Tuesdays.

The communality of the groups looks to be like interests and the desire for socialization. This is a strong feeling for all the OFs, including those who are still hunkered down.

 

Coping with storm aftermath

There were other conversations (and the conversations were few) concerning the problem the OFs thought affected just about everybody in the surrounding area. That was the storm that visited our region on Wednesday, Oct. 7. Some of the OFs reported being without power for four days, and for others the power was off for about one-and-a-half days.

Much of this dialogue was how prepared they were for such a situation. With the OMOTM, again, it was a few who were quite well prepared with whole-house generators, stored water, and quick meals in the freezer.

One did not have a whole-house generator but he had a generator that would run most of what he needed. This OF would run the refrigerator and freezer for a while, then he would run the furnace. He could not run the pump in the well, but they had stored water for washing, and using the toilet. The OF said they had bottled water for cooking and drinking when needed.

Another OF said that he thinks everyone should have a list made for medicines, hygiene, clothes, and food for at least a couple of weeks. Make a place to keep this list, and a system for use, then replace used items to keep it well stocked, but not stale.

It was surprising for this scribe to see in these few calls how many of the OFs have something like this going already. This scribe guesses it is because they have been through it before. Especially on the mountain when those living here had to experience the winter of 1957.

That was some experience in 1957. The farmers could not ship their milk because the roads were impassable. Buildings were collapsing because of the weight of the snow.

Farmers were getting food and hay for the livestock dropped by airplanes. Farmers with animals were digging tunnels to the barn to get to the cows that had to be milked.

This scribe has pictures of snow so high that his brother stepped from the snow to the roof of the barn. The plows in many places could not push the snow; huge truck-driven snow blowers were brought in to clear the roads.

In places on the roads, the snow was so deep that volunteers stood on top of the snow and shoveled it into the snow blowers. In places also the snow covered the power lines, and all this was reported in three sections of the towns of Wright, Knox, and Berne, let alone what other towns the local residents could not experience.

One OF who worked at the cement plant in Howe Cave related how the cement plant had to shut down, and sent out all its heavy equipment with operators and helpers (who lived right around the plant) to help clear the roads. So that snowstorm would include the towns of Cobleskill and Schoharie also and maybe others.

It was the type of event which many people count other events by — like World War II, the birth of a baby, or a wedding, or funeral.

 

Changing weather?

The OFs mentioned that we don’t have winters like that anymore. Winters when the OFs were younger seemed to be different.

They seemed shorter, with lots more snow, and easier. Now the winters seem to have less snow, longer, are more bitter, and no fun at all. To which this scribe replied maybe it is because our old bones and thin blood, with a low rate of metabolism, makes it seem like that. The OF didn’t think so.

The OFs say the weather is changing. One OF asked the question, “Have we ever had a storm like the one which came through on Wednesday?”

The scribe had to reply not that he could remember. The scribe and his wife, and a house guest watched it come from the west, over the trees in back of their home and slam into the house as they watched out the kitchen window.

It bordered on scary as it approached and hit. A few minutes later, the lights flickered and went out. That was it for about three days. Fortunately, the generator kicked in.

Now will this be the time event that is used to measure other events by? Nah, this is just a blow compared to 1957.

A little groaner from the internet will close this column’s final thoughts on power outages and weather: When I was younger, I was scared of the dark. Now, when I get my electric bill, I am afraid of the light.

Post date: 
October 15, 2020

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by John R. Williams

The OMOTM and friends on a spur-of-the-moment jaunt to Bath, Maine, stop at Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire.

Boy! The news of the day politically might change some opinions both ways. A few of the Old Men of the Mountain I talked to commented that both sides of the fence are filling up.

This little report keeps advising that, in many cases, age is just a number. That is quite two-sided. Sometimes age creeps up and the genes are really rotten. All the advice about what to do to keep your health comes with a grain of salt.

The OMOTM can and do attest to that. Some OFs are 80 years old and carry on like they were 50 or 60 while others can be 50 or 60 and carry on like they were 80. In many conversations, this scribe has ascertained that it has nothing to do with lifestyle; it is genes.

Some of the OFs had it tough in the beginning. They smoked, drank, ate all the wrong stuff, and got only about three hours of sleep on a good day. Now they are 80 and doing basically the same thing.

Others, who had the chance to live basically right in the beginning, and who are still trying to do so, are now 70 and have trouble getting out of bed. These same OFs keep many doctors in practice.

It is a matter of who has the genes and who doesn’t. At least that is the way it looks to this scribe.

There is one big BUT here and that is: With eating right, getting exercise, and enough sleep, it may be possible to beat the gene thing, or at least improve on it. Maybe, if done often enough, it may help change the getting- old-quick-gene to getting old less quickly for your kids. The scribe really doesn’t know if this is how it works or not.

This scribe, in an answer (or maybe it was a discussion) that most did not know, and that dialogue was, where is the cut-off point? Or is there even a cut-off point?

 

On the road

What prompted the scribe to remember the discussions on this topic (which had to be pulled out from all the truck, tractor, and car bits) was recently an OMOTM reported on two motorcycle trips that he took that covered many days and miles.

The first one was over 1,500 miles-plus some days with a group of friends. The second one that the OF just returned from was to Bath, Maine. One day, they just thought it would be great to go to Maine for some chowder and lobster.

This trip included various stops along the way with sight-seeing taken in. Side point: It is fun to be retired and able to do things like this, and have the right genes to pull it off.

According to the OF, this trip was planned and laid out by a friend of his who is 77 years old. Now this theme harkens back to the gene bit at the beginning. Not many people 77 to 80 years old can sling their leg over a motorcycle and head out on a four- or five-day trip.

Is it careful living in the beginning, or is it genes?

According to the OF, the trip was great, and the weather was great, and there were no incidents like flat tires or little bumps in the road that generally happen when this type of experience takes off. As a rule, something is bound to happen that puts a little damper (or sometimes a big damper on) excursions like this.

The group did have a bear cross the road in front of them but that is not an intrusion but part of the adventure. The scribe thinks maybe breakdowns are also part of the adventure.

Though there was some color, the OF reported the leaf peepers were not out yet so the ride was very comfortable in that regard. The little group traveled back roads and made many stops; the OF said they were not in a race. The scribe thinks they were too old for racing anyway.

It is noticeable the group followed a column written a little while back about camping, and sleeping bags, and putting up tents; however, the photograph shows this group was motel-ing it.

There, again as reported, a few of the OFs are getting together (this scribe now wonders if the word “together” was developed by groups of ancient chauvinist guys who gathered in groups and were out after the female sex and would say, “OK, guys lets go out ‘to-get-her’” which shrunk down to the guys going out together — hmmm). Back to original thought.

As the scribe read somewhere online: Young motorcycle riders pick a destination and go. Old riders pick a direction and go. There are drunk bikers. There are old bikers. There are no old, drunk bikers. 

 

Post date: 
October 8, 2020

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by Michael Seinberg

I saw a very interesting political cartoon recently. It showed two lines of people marching in opposite directions and each person was holding up a sign with a single word on it. The people in the line labeled GOP were holding signs that said “Me.” The people in the Democratic line were holding signs that said “Us.”

I’ve been rolling that over in my mind and then something else popped up. Back in the far distant past of 2016, someone I know who works in a very public-facing business described something he’d noticed. He said the people who came into his shop who supported Trump were all very selfish people, based on his observation of their behavior.

Fast forward to our current situation with 26 million people out of work, over 200,000 dead and growing due to the “fake” pandemic (anti-masking, hydroxychloroquine, injecting disinfectant), the West on fire, and the economy in a tizzy.

The Me crowd staged a Trump boat parade because, well, when the world is going to hell, why not? But, the folks in the big boats began revving things up, creating huge wakes and sinking their fellows in smaller boats. When they saw what they’d done, did they stop to help? Nope, they just went faster and left the mess to first responders who probably had better things to do that day than rescue idiots. This was according to eyewitness reports.

And now we have a bunch of Me senators who are hellbent on replacing a respected Supreme Court judge with a party hack and religious nutjob, before the judge’s body is even cold. Ironic in the extreme since Moscow Mitch said four years ago that it was the people’s choice and thus, they would not confirm Obama’s nomination to the court. Merrick Garland was a moderate and highly qualified judge, but since Obama’s term was nearing its end (the nomination was made in March), it was a no go.

Their zeal is driven by a desire to pack the court with conservatives who will rule in their favor on a variety of issues, including outlawing abortion, getting rid of the Affordable Care Act and keeping Trump in office no matter what the election results are. Basically, they are going to change the face of our country because of their own Me values. This, despite the fact that most Americans want women to have control of their own bodies, we all want free and fair elections, and the ACA has been mostly successful, albeit imperfect.

Since the start of the current administration, every move has been guided by jealousy, anger, self-interest, sadism (according to some psychologists), and greed. The GOP has gone along with all of it, every step of the way and basically sold any sort of moral standing along with their souls and of course a huge tax cut for the rich resulting in a record $4 trillion deficit.

This is the behavior of a group of angry, old white men who see their future, and they’ll do anything to maintain their control, even if it means destroying the country in the process. Look up the term Pyrrhic victory, for those of you who want to improve your vocabulary.

The basic truth of our current situation is that most Americans want competent government that represents their interests. They don’t mind reasonable taxes if they feel they’re getting something for them, like clean air, clean water, decent schools, a competent system of courts and cops, and overall fairness in the system.

We all want decent jobs, safe homes, and to be able to retire while we’re still young enough to enjoy it. I can’t think of too many people who want to work two to four badly paid jobs just to make ends meet while they get no benefits and the folks at the top just keep getting richer. News reports indicate that most billionaires have enjoyed record profits since the pandemic began.

This election is all about that. The folks at the top want to stay rich and will sit back and let Trump and his cronies do whatever they want as long as they’re left free to continue raping the planet and pillaging the economy. If we elect Democrats up and down the ticket, take back the state legislatures, the Senate and consolidate our gains in the House, then our country may yet survive and return to a better place.

I’m in no way suggesting that the Democrats are perfect or without fault, but they are far better than Tiny Hands Donnie and Moscow Mitch. They recognize climate change as real and that science should be our guide in dealing with a pandemic, not political whims. They also respect women far more, and are in favor of public education, not enriching the billionaires (like Betsy DeVos) behind substandard charter schools.

The current administration is being driven by a man in fear for his life and livelihood. He has already allowed thousands of Americans to die needlessly.

If he loses the election and actually leaves office willingly (he won’t) he will, in all likelihood, be indicted, convicted and jailed for the rest of his life for any number of crimes including tax fraud, obstruction of justice, treason, and aiding a foreign government as well as sexual assault and rape.

He is scared to death of ending up in jail and we’re watching the result. So how do you think he and his supporters are voting?

His answer is a wholehearted ME in cheap gold-plated neon. I vote for US. How about you?

Editor’s note: Michael Seinberg says he is a lifelong cynic and registered Democrat but he’s not naïve and, if the Dems win, he says, we’ll be holding their feet to the fire to get what WE all need.

 

Post date: 
October 1, 2020

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by John R. Williams

It is tough to know where to begin. The few Old Men of the Mountain this scribe has spoken to are just like the scribe. None of them have really gone anywhere.

The OMOTM’s outings have been either for groceries, or for doctors’ appointments. As mentioned last week, a few have gone out to restaurants but not all (at least the ones spoken to) have yet. Some are planning on it.

The drive-through chicken barbecues have been frequented by some, and these BBQs are clever in the way the customers are handled. Some need to have reservations made and others have first-come, first-served until all are gone. Pizza is another favorite to-go food; just call, then go to pick up your pizzas, or have them delivered.

One good thing that is happening is the OFs’ domiciles are being spruced up. This is happening because many people now have time at home. This scribe has not checked with the whole list of OFs but he probably should. One day the scribe should put the list in front of him and start with the A’s. So the scribe finally did.

On the top of the list is Bill Bartholomew and that is very sad because Bill’s wife passed away a little while ago. The funeral service was held in New Smyrna, Florida, and an interment ceremony was held at the Breakabeen Cemetery in Breakabeen last weekend. The Old Men of the Mountain offer their condolences and prayers for Bill on the loss of his wife, Sylvia.

 

Colors pop

At this time of year, the fall colors pop out, and it seems that a few days ago, as the colors were just starting, one OF said he went for groceries with the wife. When they finished shopping and headed home, the trees had changed by 50 percent just while they were in the store.

The OF, and the scribe, agree fall has some nice weather and in the Northeast we get some beautiful color from the trees, but it doesn’t last long. As the scribe types this, the weather report says rain is on the way, and the temperature will drop.

What happens fall after fall just as the leaves become really beautiful? Along will come a cold rain, and then wind, and all the leaves are blown away. We really don’t get to enjoy them for very long. As the OF on the phone said, we all know what fall is the harbinger of.

 

Happy campers?

The OFs that are, and were, campers say early fall is the best time to go camping, but most of the time it has to be on weekends because the kids are in school. One OF said that his kids liked camping in the summer because of boats, and swimming, and this seemed strange that kids would even notice it, but they also noted the longer days.

The adults liked the fall because the heat and humidity generally were gone, and the air was crisp (but not really cold) in the evening and the campfire seemed to just crackle a little more. Snuggled under a throw or blanket in front of the fire, conversation, even with the kids, seemed quieter and deeper.

Now that the OFs are “old OFs” camping is not the best thing in the world. The damp air of the evening makes the ole arthritic joints really ache, and the “8-hour arthritic Tylenol” does not help much. Neither does crawling inside a sleeping bag; the back won’t let the OF reach down and pull up the zipper.

But it is really nice to have camped for quite a few years when younger. One OF said he guessed, if he now had a motorhome, or big tow-behind, it wouldn’t be that bad. Another Of added that he would have to be a guest because they won’t let him drive anymore.

As long as the OFs are able to be OMOTM it is not that bad, but being OFs keeps a lot of people employed in order to take care of us.

 

Play ball

In one conversation, the topic was baseball and that was unusual. Years ago, the OMOTM had a diehard Yankees fan. This OF has been gone for many years. Carl Slater knew and followed the Yankees inside out.

This present discussion was on the shortened 2020 season and the current Yankees and money. The OF and this scribe were on the same page on this one. The OF thought that the Yankees with their high payroll should win just about every game they play.

This does not seem to be the case. It seems even the team that has the lowest salary budget on any given day will clean the Yankees’ clock. Both the OF and this scribe think football players, basketball players, baseball players, and other athletic players are way overpaid and not worth it.

But this is only the opinion of a couple of OFs; then again, maybe the OFs are just jealous.

This scribe loves autumn. It gives him a chance to sit at home and watch the World Series. Kind of like the Yankees. Well, at least the Yankees are trying. They installed a new pitching machine the other day. Unfortunately, it beat them, 4 - 1.

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Post date: 
October 1, 2020

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