Monday, October 31, 2011

busy weekend

fridays have become "in" days for me (for all good reasons) punctuated by supernatural on the cw, (it's a 14 year old daughter thing, and if you ask me, i'm saying cas isn't dead, and misha's name on the credits this season just about proves that beyond a reasonable), junk food, (now the habit has become burger king double cheeseburgers, but we're never far from sammy's pies and calzones), and wireless mike flynn live from the back page on the radio. (lois lane and the daily planets this week sounded GREAT!). if you aren't getting yourself to the back page for the live music every friday, not to mention wednesday, thursday and saturday, you owe it to yourself to head on over to wcap for the live broadcast on friday nights--it's worth the listen.

anyway, on saturday it was imagined that a little downtown lowell musical pub-crawling was in order, (what else does a downtownie do during a saturday night nor-easter?), so it was back over to the back page with the thought that if you start on the one side, it's easiest to pick up all the other stops in order on your way to the other. so, yes, it was the worthen for the last call, but along the way we got to see evan goodrow in a hot dog suit, though we didn't get to hear him in the hot dog suit, because just as he was about to strum his first chord the power went out and we were left to enjoy our libations by the glow of our cell phones. (kudos to the bar staff at the back page for keeping things going through the difficulty). from there it was back across downtown, with stops at fuse (no, i did NOT order the "organic baby lettuces") and where have you before winding up in the happy celebratory crowd at the worthen. the lone disappointment was that big trouble's sets at mr. jalapeno had to be cancelled, (well that's two counting the evan goodrow band's power-related outage), but a good time was had by all, so nobody was really left with anything to complain about.

sunday's soccer game had to be cancelled, which is too bad, but the nightcap at toad for dave champagne's new outfit, the sunset engine, and his old one, treat her right, was off the charts. the former is a five-piece with clarinet, fiddle, banjo and tom behind dave and his guitar, with a remarkable sound and cohesion for a debut performance playing new songs everybody is doubtless still learning to find their way around, even while what they're playing is already sophisticated and compelling, if "sophisticated" is a fair word for something "americana-ish" in its roots and its components. it was emotional and subtle at the same time as stirring and rewarding. and what's left to say about treat her right? last night the band was ON in a way that being ON is difficult to adequately describe. dave must have still been on a high from the first set, because he was punctuating his euphoria with vocal screams and wails the nature of which is both HIM and unlike anything i've ever heard from him before. (think "david lee" champagne). and his guitar attack was relentless, including solos from the stage, which is to say from the actual stage and not even on his feet, and some incredibly fun and funny repartee with an audience-member actually named doreen (props to billy beard for that one last night!) all wrapped around and embracing licks and solos and wails from jim fitting that were putting the audience at the back near where i was sitting virtually stunned by their brilliance. through it all steve mayone kept an incredibly laid back and driving "low guitar" line that was so understated and compelling that it produced roll after roll from billy punctuated by flashes of cymbal which grabbed and slew, that the whole place was rolling back and forth in a way that only a small club can. so good. SO good. (the encore chant was "FORTY more songs! FORTY more songs!")

who's luckier than me?

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

what killed the dinosaurs?

over at dick howe's lowelldeeds blog, (always a worthwhile read for both the insight on lowell-area property trends, as well as the technologies related to advances in and around the registry of deeds and of interest to the people who work there), there's an interesting review of kodak's new printer business, and how they're trying to rescue their company from the implosion of the film business caused by digital photographic technology.

i may have started it, but in the comments dick quickly draws the obvious parallel to other disrupted businesses, such as newspapers, to which i could not resist to point out that the problem with newspapers is NOT the erosion of their ad revenue, but, rather, their complete cluelessness and inability to deliver the audience from which they could otherwise derive ad revenue. my first example was to revisit my recent observation that the "stepping out" insert in thursday's sun carries almost no useful local event information, as opposed to cometolowell.com's impressive, current and reliable listings, but there is seemingly no end to the easy examples. and, since i've recently been peeved by the sun's move of rob mills' policeline blog to a site without an RSS feed from which it's thus impossible to follow via simple web tools that even my elderly parents use like google reader, i figured it's as good an opportunity as any to gnash my teeth in public.

first of all, if you're a lowellian (or lowellite or loweller, and nods to cliff krieger of rightsideoflowell for sharing with me the word "demonym") you absolutely should avail yourself of the stellar reporting of rob mills and his the policeline blog. just don't try to keep up via google reader or other newsreading RSS-enabled software, because the cabal of digital ignorami at the head of the lowell sun management and editorial staff, who, by the way, are so often glib in their recent discussions to brag on how well their digital business is going to start to do, are so completely on-line clueless that they're trying the "publish" a blog (i.e. gain eyeballs that can be milked for ad revenue) without publishing it at all.

seriously: even my 89 year old father who cannot figure out how to use a cell phone uses RSS. there's no other practical way to be alerted to fresh web content from your preferred sources, and, without it, it's completely useless to try to visit every possible source you might like to see if maybe they've put something else new out there. but, there you have it--the lowell sun can't figure out how to use it.

it'd be funnier if it wasn't so sad...

Monday, October 24, 2011

"story matters here" (not)

i'm an AMC fan. i was a fan when they began cable-casting classic films all those years ago, and i became even more of a fan when they branched out and took the flyer on the "mad men" series a few years fewer ago, and re-invigorated the serial drama genre and picked up the mantle from HBO's the sopranos. (if you haven't seen "mad men", you absolutely have to find the original episodes and start watching from the beginning--i guarantee you will be impressed and hooked).

anyway, my faith was more than affirmed when AMC introduced their second series, "breaking bad", (the first season of which is terrifically good), though holes in the breaking bad writing started to show in the second season, and got worse in the third, though, to be fair, they were lucky/good enough to do better during the most recent season, so overall it still maintains its positive impression with me, though occasionally ones mind does recall their network slogan/boast and observe, even while it may matter now and again, it's not quite all the story that it could be.

well, i can't speak for sons of anarchy, (praised by many i know and respect, though i've never seen it), because i never got started on the biker soap opera premise, but i can speak about "the walking dead", and, i'm sorry to say, the words will not be so complimentary.

zombies aren't for everyone. i happened to fall (hard) upon george romero's "dawn of the dead" back in the day, (1978--the year after the original star wars), and was instantly hooked on the non sequitur pairing of gore and (black) comedy that becomes possible with the premise. (if you've never seen romero's skewering of consumer culture by having his protagonists pursued by both zombies and bikers through a shopping mall, you've never seen genius). simon pegg's homage, "shawn of the dead", takes things in a classic english direction, (his folks are just trying to get back to the pub instead of the mall, with just as much panache), and bill murray's cameo turn in reese and wernick's "zombieland" aims for and gets us to the theme park, for yet another hit. i'm sure other fans have other movies to nominate, too, though, as with any other genre, there are as many misses as hits, ("army of darkness" is just stupid), and everything is not for everybody.

into one category or the other will ultimately fall "the walking dead", but i'm guessing if they don't take the time to hire some competent writers, it's far more likely to be a miss than a hit. the trouble, of course, is that zombie fans are so loyal and fanatic, that they'll make the numbers which will make it seem like it's a worthwhile series even when it's really not.

my frustration with the show, beyond its eschewing of the greater comedic, and, hence, entertaining, elements, is that it's so lazily constructed that even a zombie could drive a tractor trailer through the plot holes. i really don't want to be spoiling the show for anyone, but i'm guessing those who will like it will have already watched it, and everybody else is going to appreciate being spared the dull inconvenience, so i'll mention a current example from last night's show:

the protagonists are broken down on a clogged up highway, not having seen any normal humans for hundreds of miles, with one of their kids having wandered off after having been chased away by a zombie. in searching the nearby woods for the missing girl at a distance they reached in less than a couple hours' walk along a stream which provides their bearings, the band separates yet again, (this isn't a complaint about character stupidity, but you know it could be--it's a zombie staple ;-), and a small group encounters a deer which doesn't run away, up to which yet another kid walks, only to be shot in the chest by a hunter's bullet, the hunter being from a pleasant little family farm so close by that the kid's father can jog there carrying his boy in his arms after the accident. so we're talking 4 hours walk from the highway, tops, (they can wander out and back from the highway in daylight, so it can't really be further than that), and at 3 mph, just a little over 10 miles. so if the father has to stay with the boy because his blood type matches (convenient that the farm has a guy who can perform surgery) then why doesn't his partner jog the 10 miles back to the boy's mother, tell everyone there's a safe farm nearby, and then have everyone easily walk the 10 miles back to be all safe and sound by nightfall?

lazy writing.

THEN we find out a few minutes later that the farm has gas-powered vehicles (one of which they use to go get surgical supplies A DAY LATER), and horses (one of which they use to go get the boy's mom but nobody else) making all this even more ridiculous. they could zip right out to the highway and pick everyone up within minutes, but NOOOOOO, that would be too sensible.

i do get it. suspension of disbelief is a requirement to begin watching something like this in the first place. but if they're not even going to put in the effort to write it with even a shred of sensibility, why should i bother to put in the effort to watch it?

the answer is, regretfully, that i'm not.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

bizarre op-ed

the sun today carries kendall wallace's essay on the sitting school committee and their labor negotiations, both of which were rocked by a leak last week about those negotiations by one of the committee members to--get this--kendall's own newspaper. without even a word to the agency and consequence of his organization having been the conduit for the leak's destruction, he goes on to ostensibly and best-intendedly correct like a benevolent schoolmaster the behavior of everybody else in the play.

now i'm not questioning the importance of a free fourth estate to good government, good services and good outcomes for all, i'm just saying that a little self-reflection on the role might seem to be important while tossing out recommendations to literally everyone else party to the party. did the paper choose the right way to handle the confidence? did they respect all parties by seeking them out for comment and sharing the information before and as it went public? were they as conscientious and best-intended as they admonish everyone else to be?

i'm not expecting the answers are "no", but i guess i am pointing out the arrogance to not feel required to even offer them as part of the civics lecture. it's too bad, too, because kendall stands quite distinctly apart from and to the better of his editor in chief in terms of thoughtfulness, objectivity and professionalism. but i guess that's the disquiet i feel this morning--if we don't get better behavior at the top, it only just rolls downhill from there...

Thursday, October 20, 2011

better late than never

ok, this one is over a week old, but my excuse is a long difficult dig out from under a week's vacation, and that i'm only just now getting around to reading last monday's paper--and, yes, the crack editorial staff at the lowell sun is at it again, this time right at the top of page 2:

"family wins $20m verdict in poo-slide suit"

too funny.

stepping out

it's ironic to receive at my door thursday's sun and see within it the weekly "stepping out" section having just been to the back page for one of the best music nights of lowell's year. (yeah, a little hyperbole, but if you weren't there, how can you say?) i used to nurse a related guilty pleasure (the long-since-gone lowellita column) but it's been what seems like forever since i've had much use for that particular feature section, and it's really too bad. i imagine it's extremely difficult for a features editor to choose for coverage among everything there is to do and see downtown and elsewhere, but even a cursory glance at cometolowell.com's events page gives you 10 times the options in an instant's time, and points out that the "local" paper isn't hardly local at all these days, and that's absolutely too bad.

say you want to go dancing tonight? cometolowell.com lists country line dancing lessons at the knickerbocker, and DJ's at four different downtown establishments. (the dubliner, brians ivy hall, garcia brogans and savanna palace). the sun's stepping out section? nothing. in fact, for the entire week, the sun offers two dancing event notices, one at the tewksbury senior center, and the other at the parish center in westford, and that's it. cometolowell.com? too many to count or list here. as for live music, (my particular passion), the sun gets ONE jazz/blues performance for the entire week actually within the city limits, (among five options for the seven days), and cometolowell.com covers half a dozen IN THE CITY on friday night alone. (and that's not counting things like the live band belly dancing at the athenian corner, acoustic night at the worthen, latin music at ole and "monkey knife fight" over at garcia brogans, whatever that is).

i bring this all up because it occurs to me that no only-lowell-sun reader would have realized that arte k and his friends were putting on their CD release show at the back page last night, and that's more the pity. the applause, and you can ask anyone who was there, was exhilarating, sustained and stirringly enthusiastic throughout the show, and all the more so as the encores were begged and rewarded. the music was GREAT. it's from the heart. home-grown and original. the kind and quality of stuff that can take a city from "also" to the center of a musical map. have you heard frank morey lately? the friday night series now simulcast on WCAP from the very same back page room? what we have here is the tip of a musical iceberg just yearning for its audience, and nobody is going to hear about it unless people start spreading the word. i'm sure i don't even get to a tenth of it.

chuck langford is at ole tonight, with local boy andy kaknes on congas. (andy sat in on a number or two with arte last night to give fans a good taste, so they at least know from which i'm talking). there's a poetry slam at brew'd awakenings. there's comedy at voices rock club. it's ladies night at garcia brogans. if your life's not everything you'd want it to be, there are such diversions, or more worldly useful events like the "carbon smarts" congress at umass lowell, or the continuing parker lecture series at the pollard library. (ok, the sun has that one, to their credit).

live a little!

me, i'm heading early into cambridge to hear melvern, matt and dave (sans bob, who rumors have it to be cavorting with blondes in bikinis right now) run through the material from melvern's first two albums, the majority of which you don't hear played live very much these days, and, if you have the discs, you know what a treat that's going to be, at toad in porter square, and then coming straight back to catch the show with chuck langford and andy kaknes at ole to top the whole thing off.

step out!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

must-see music this wednesday night!

arte k's debut recording, be a man, is remarkable stuff. born in and from lowell, arte's growl and what he chooses to say (sing) with it are real as the red brick town in which he was raised. it's something to hear, and something to appreciate. now arte is releasing his second collection of self-written gems, backed by the best of lowell's best, (carl johnson on guitar, steve esposito on keys, justin beaulieu on drums, all of whom will be performing at the CD release tomorrow, as well as on the record sir bob nash of wonka sound behind the board, not to mention guest horn appearances by corey b and other notable cameos, including i'm led to believe lowell's own linda mccluskey on backing vocals), entitled "just a little more bad", and he's performing from that new record right here downtown at the back page beginning at 8:45pm on wednesday night to celebrate the CD release. this is must-see music.

if you have an ear for what's real, and you love everything there is to love about lowell, you owe it to yourself to come on down to the back page on wednesday night and take in the performance, and then stay for the open mic specialties (courtesy of host stephe clements) that'll be on display. arte will, of course, have fresh-pressed wonka sound engineered CD's, (the best in the business, and you can ask anyone), as well as likely some of his debut collection which every lowellian needs to own. and, if you don't believe me, just take a listen over here at reverbnation to both sets of songs, and tell us all what you think.

i can't wait.

hoteliers and their pigeons

embarking on a journey of any distance, and becoming found without private accommodations on which to otherwise rely, a traveler must brave the wilds of the hospitality jungle, and endeavor to make their best choices between an endless number of variables, from price to accommodations to amenities to service when choosing their hotelier. this crap shoot is most frequently gamed by the big name providers, who lure and entrap their pigeons i mean patrons through everything from familiar booking procedures and loyalty "rewards" programs (which pretend to favor guests while they line the pockets of no one but their sponsors) to kickback and outright bribery arrangements with other travel partners like airlines and car rental agencies. having spent the better part of the last three decades traveling the world for business as well as pleasure, i've grown to consider myself a bit of an enlightened expert when it comes to these games these gamers play, and i'm willing to offer my insight and advice to those who will listen, though i know most of you will never, and that's ok too. (i rather like my favorite places not to be fully booked and thus impossible to enjoy).

the first mistake any rube will make is to equate price with quality, or expect too much when out in the wilds. lets face it--most hoteliers are in the business to charge as much as their traffic will bear while simultaneously filling as many of their rooms as possible, and those favored with better reputation and/or publicity and/or location will often, most of the time, take advantage of that convenience to jack their rates. this will come back in spades with the big name chains i will discuss in a moment, but it also affects the relative quality of any chain brand, or any little joint with the good fortune to be nowhere near any other. (i won't review the north hero house in north hero, vermont, and you can make of that whatever you will). of course, the corollary is that for whatever prevailing rate may seem to be in place in any given area, there will *always* be cheesers at the periphery who will do little to nothing to earn it, instead piggy-backing on the efforts of others to build that rate floor. so, at first glance, you're damned if you do and you're damned if you don't go with the ones you know.

however!

there are always in any given market those innkeepers who understand that their business is best built on the gratitude they earn by providing superior accommodations, superior amenities and superior service for a rate which rewards them for their efforts while leaving the traveler with as much as possible still in their pocket. these individual establishments will sometimes appear in chamber-of-commerce-sponsored listings, and possibly at the bottom of the travel website melange of marriott this and best western that, but most frequently in the gushing testimonials of those travelers intrepid enough, and lucky enough, to have found them in the first place. in other words, you have to LOOK for them. but it's fair to say that your search will be richly rewarded if you remember to both avoid the lazy and rapacious monster chains (ESPECIALLY if they're trying to bribe you via their loyalty programs which simply mean to them they no longer have to concern themselves with the quality of their stuff above a very mediocre mean, since you'll stay with them the next time anyway) as well as the lazy freeloaders who offer crap just because they can. to wit i will offer two of the best hotels i've had the pleasure to visit: l'hotel du vieux quebec, and l'auberge les passants du sans soucy. (ok, i'll even toss in a third for free--the halliburton in halifax, though that wasn't on this most recent trip).

l'hotel du vieux quebec appears to be not much more than a nondescript storefront on an unremarkable city streetcorner buried in the middle of old quebec. of course, "unremarkable" in quebec is like saying "wow" in most any other city, so don't misunderstand. no, it's not at the top of the promontory overlooking the st lawrence as does the majestic and commanding chateau frontenac a few steps away, (a fairmont property, and possibly one of the exceptions to the chain hotel rule, but bring your checkbook because its rates are not for the faint of means), but it's among the most charming and attractive buildings and streetcorners to be found anywhere, and mere steps as was mentioned from all the rest. the room was quiet, impeccably furnished, and an oasis complete with jacuzzi tub, glass-walled oversized-head shower, and comfortable everything right down to the quality of the linens on the bed. (real feather pillows!) best of all, the desk staff and other hotel personnel could not have been more friendly, helpful, generous and charming. need directions? a hand with literally anything? recommendations for touring, dinner, sightseeing or anything else? they're there in warm and fluent english as well as endearing and mellifluous french canadian french. ("bon jour!") and each and every morning there is left there at your door a basket of the freshest croissants with fruit, yogurt and juice, for your convenience and pleasure. highly recommended.

in montreal, of course, the field is much bigger, and the streets, for their most part, not nearly so well-appointed. the oldest street in the city, rue st paul, is not nearly the park-quality showplace as is the entire old city of quebec, but what it lacks in sheer beauty it more than makes up in rich character, variety and charm. and along this street can be found l'auberge les passants de sans soucy, one of the most remarkable "bed and breakfast" joints you will ever find. first of all, putting "bed and breakfast" in any description of this top-notch establishment is to give all other places who coincidentally serve breakfast with their beds far more credit than they are otherwise due. converting an 18th century manse with its mortared stone walls and rough hewn beams to a 21st century celebration of authentic 18th century charm is no small feat, and brass beds, lace curtains and well-tended window boxes are just the start. there is, of course, also the breakfast part, which i'm here to say pleases in every single way. (fresh to-order omelettes, with fresh pastries, breads, fruits and juices, or pancakes, or for whatever i'm sure you have the imagination to ask). but the distinguishing feature of any great hotel will always be its service, and here the personal attention offered from the owner and manager right down to the last member of his staff is beyond any standard. you just feel WELCOME. and that's a wonderful thing. (especially in the city of your mortal hockey enemies ;-). combine that with proximity to bocata as reviewed elsewhere here in the blog, and you have yet another clear winner.

do it. throw out your chain loyalty card and ignore the points. that "free" stay you'll get some years from now won't hardly be worth the effort with which you'll need to put up to both earn it, as well as endure it. ENJOY yourself when you travel. feel at home. do better. i do.

les habitants et ville de montreal

quebec may be "le vieux capital", but there is no question which city leads french canada today. montreal dominates everything that matters, from hockey (though the quebeckers still cherish their nordiques to the point of still trading in the old kit in their souvenir shops) to shipping (the port of montreal is astounding in size and scope) to everything cultural, from performance to fine art to food. walking the breadth of montreal from its old city down by the waterfront to the peak of mount royal, (mont real, yo), you experience everything both beautiful and real about a major modern city with impeccable historical and cultural roots.

happiest for me to discover was the presence in one single sports souvenir shop of not one, not two, but THREE featured bruins t-shirts nestled between two canuck models and above the pair of price and subban shirts beneath, (not another shop carried even a scrap of boston anything), though my favorite motif wasn't even sporting--of a rearing black moose on a simple gold shield above the unmistakable ferrari font spelling out "montreal". (for an honorable mention i'll note the "canadian fast food" shirt, depicting a black outlined sprinting figure ahead of the silhouette of a pursuing bear). it's the low-brow inventiveness that amuses as it attracts which beckons the visitor to move closer and to appreciate everything else around it.

but it's the food that i will always remember best.

thursday evening i asked my innkeeper (jacob, at auberge les passants du sans soucy, which is yet another remarkable story) for a dinner recommendation, and in the inimitable style of a man who knows better he offered a list of places within walking distance which was as long as ones proverbial arm. trusting my sense of ambience as much as my nose, i recalled how often i had noticed bocata on rue de saint paul, and stood outside their open windows with that longing that knows it's going inside. reservations would have perhaps saved the 45 minutes to wait for a table, but every second was worth an hour for what came next. the menu premise is "small plates", but these aren't tapas--they're each mini meals all to themselves. the oysters were from PEI, and complemented by a homemade mignonette with fresh lemon that was an absolute delight. following that, the main choices were for the salmon tartare, (my favorite dish of them all, with cream, cucumbers and dill), a "sea and mountain" combination of lobster tail and ox tail that puts every other "surf and turf" on the planet to absolute shame, and a filet mignon with apple puree which literally melted to the mouth. it was a full meal, complemented by a cosse maisonneuve le combal cahors 2007 that was hands-down the most powerful glass of wine i have ever had in my life. (and you know i know nothing about wine and generally care even less, but with this food that glass of mouth-punching flavor explosion was incredible, and gave even we philistines the understanding of what they mean by "pairing"). and, yet, when the offer of dessert came to the table, it was necessary to demur in favor of the last longing entree from the main menu.

there was a duck entree not there on their online menu that was virtually irresistible. it combined a roasted leg with a single duck egg, poached "sous vide", the story behind which will never do justice to the creamy custard consistency of that incredible richness that was its yolk. it was le piece de resistance, and the crowning glory of a meal that can't rightly be described. the beer and oysters to begin, the wine and glory to continue, and the crescendo to conclude were each part of a symphony of flavor that belied the incredibly warm, comfortable and informal environs in which it was offered. we sat on simple wooden chairs at a worn wooden table in a classic french window by a bookcase of rustic leather-bound books. it was as unpretentious a space as could possibly exist in such a historic place, and if there's nothing else to see or do in montreal, this restaurant alone would make the trip worthwhile. and i was there. mmmmmm...

so how does one conclude such a trip?

why, smoked meat sandwiches at schwartzes, of course.

schwartzes deli is one of the oldest and most renowned restaurants in the city. it's also one of the most crowded and barely-swept pigeon-holes you'll ever dare to enter. it's further the butt of one of my most favorite french canadian jokes, which is the language police requirement that all official schwartzes deli's publicity must be "en francais", requiring them to go by the nom de guerre "chez schwartz". ludicrous. but as ludicrous as such requirement may be, the towering piles of smoked pastrami on their "smoked meat" sandwiches dwarf everything else about the place, both inside and out. (though the addled english tourist asking her companion if the picture of the pile of kosher meat on the window outside by the sidewalk where we all had to wait quite awhile to get in might be "pulled pork" was a nice treat to go with it, even if i had to stifle the laugh so as not to be rude about my sense of humor). ours was delivered with the recommended pairing of the house, (which here carried no vintage other than to say "cotts cerise noir", aka black cherry soda), in the handy-dandy throwback 12 oz can. oh, and we can't forget the homemade schwartzes mustard, and pile of fries and pair of deli pickles, either. which reminds me to recommend that you skip the dill--it's a tired manufactured specimen without color, taste or texture to recommend it--and go straight for the half-sours. i didn't know better, not having been raised in proximity to jewish delis in either brookline or brooklyn, but i'm learned to understand now that the half-sour IS the deli pickle, and these here at schwartzes are DA BOMB.

so there you have it, from bottom to top, and from top to bottom, the city of montreal. AND, les habs lost to calgary on thursday night to put the cherry on the top of the whole thing for a boston visitor with relatives in alberta.

worth the trip!

the showplace city

washington dc, when it i first beheld, struck me as a giant overflowing theme park. it had the requisite rides of course, (that subway is better than anything at disney), as well as the most astounding attractions a boy could imagine. (dinosaurs and geodes and airplanes and spaceships throughout the many smithsonians, and everything more). it was festooned with flags and fountains and grass-accented walkways, and was inspiration for awe at every turn. the selfsame impression returns to me whenever i visit a properly designed capital city, from brasilia to london to buenos aires to paris to santiago to luxembourg to singapore. tuesday last i found myself in the same moment as i entered the walled city of quebec. oh, surely the approach over the river from saint romuald is impressive, and the ride up le boulevard laurier through saint louis and sillery towards the plains of abraham is as pretty as pretty gets, but it's that moment when you pass under the archway from le grand allee onto rue saint louis, and see the parc de l'esplanade on your left, and the full citadel on your right, that you realize that you're entering that very special kind of place.

the city was founded from humble beginnings in 1608 by samuel de champlain for the purpose of staging fur-trapping expeditions to the interior of europe's newly-discovered colonial playground. its name was taken, as was so much else, from the native population now regarded as "first canadians", even if not yet quite treated that way. it had a slow start, but by the 1630's, a steady stream of french missionary catholics (ursulines and augustines and you-name-the-ines) had prompted the construction of the first cathedral, notre dame de la paix, (the paix of which was to be rare for a couple hundred years, prompting its nominal replacement by notre dame des victoires, since history is never written nor named by or for the losers), and the institution of its first capital designation--le capital de la nouvelle france. even today, it's regarded as le vieux capital by everyone in it.

almost from the very start the sense was of both destiny as well as the need to preserve history. upon a fairly extensive urban fire in 1682, building codes and restrictions were enacted that controlled the character and appearance of the entire city. (all houses were to have walls of limestone or sandstone, be of two stories and semi-detached, with double-sloped roofs of an incline of near to 52 degrees, and placed on a city plan as designated by the intendent). though some 180 buildings were knocked down in the various 1859 bombardments as part of the seven years war (aka french and indian war, aka war for quebec), they were all rebuilt under the direction of the remaining french architects, even while other city matters were under control of the british. (yes, even the limeys could feel the french magic of the place).

today, you can sense all of it, even before you learn the history of any of it. the buildings are beautiful. the streets are beautiful. the landscapes are beautiful. the feeling of care for all of it by the inhabitants is beautiful. the museums and the churches and the government buildings are all pieces on the board, moved into position and staged like the grand mise en scene that they are, and yet the scale is still palpably human--the space is designed and built not only to be beautiful, but to be beautifully inhabited.

stroll down the oldest street in the city, and you will be captured by the sights and scents and sounds of a magical place. the street views of rue de la petit champlain are invisible to google maps, (you can't drive on it and google's street view cameras don't walk), but are indelible the minds eye and accompanying imagination. i engaged touch and taste to complete the sensory memory of the place at le lepin saute, where i dug into the house plate of duck and rabbit and was more than not disappointed. (it was my first experience with french canadian home brewed beer as well, and it opened my taste buds for all that followed for sure). yes, a lot of folks prefer burgers with their beer, but if you are open to the subtleties of that which is off the beaten path, you will learn that there is a whole world out there just waiting to be enjoyed.

worth the trip. absolutely.

Monday, October 17, 2011

best city resident naming convention EVER

we here often and generally refer to ourselves as "lowellians", and some variation on the anglo "-ians" or "-ites" or "-ers" conventions seem to work for us almost everywhere. for some cities, all three are reasonable if not all used, (we could be "lowellites" or "lowellers" just as easy as "lowellians" while we prefer the latter), though for others one or the other seems to be the requirement as well as the standard. (e.g. "bostonians", "new hampshireites" and "new yorkers"). many other appellations are derived from the various suffices of their mother tongues, and we have "philippinos" and "mexicans" and "brazilians" among the many others possible, even while the natives have their own way of putting it. (mexicanos and brasilieros say hey).

most interesting to me, however, are those who get creative with their prefix, as those in halifax do with "haligonians". here we have names out of the apparent blue which have very little literal basis other than some ancient language and the present insistence of their inhabitants. for this category i would today nominate the hale and hearty residents of the fair city of trois rivieres who enjoy to refer to themselves as "trifluvians" for the title. my daughter the latin whiz (when she's not majoring in profanity) has no trouble recognizing the roots, but its no less entertaining to hear it said. "trifluvians".

we difluvians here from lowell are just a little bit jealous. (concord and merrimack, yo).

we're also, when in trois rivieres, right at home. it's a working city with a hard scrabble downtown intermingled with both history and cultchah, as well as a flourish of hospitality establishments of remarkable quality and variety. i will speak very fondly of the one i chose for lunch on thursday, "le trifle", at 363 rue des forges, if you have a moment to listen. it's the kind of place even lowell would be grateful to have, with a plethora of fresh local beers on draught, in addition to irish favorites like murphy's and the like. it was spotlessly and scrupulously clean, as are many places in canada, with a menu that extended to *moment of reverent genuflection* genuine alsatian fare, from a generous charcuterie plate to an honest to goodness real life in the flesh flammkuchen. (i got the classic d'alsace with just bacon and onions, but they had 'em a good half dozen ways else, too). seriously--bacon and onion and creme fraiche on a stone oven prepared flat crust with a half liter of amazing local IPA--you cannot beat it.

i also got to tour a few of the historical joints, whereby i learned a lot about the procreative habits of the french vs the english, along with a lot of other fascinating historical trivia. (they used to pay their folks to get married young and pop out a lot of little catholic children, yes they did, even while they didn't bother much about schooling 'em afterwards). i'm guessing more than a few of the local girls wound up down here in lowell working the looms here rather than the forges up there, and felt right at home with the common workaday-ness of the place. yeah, quebec and montreal are amazing, but it's places like trois rivieres where the real work often gets done, and it's nice to see it plugging along as do we here along the merrimack without either pretense or over-concern for the appearance. it is as it is, as we are as we are.

i'm glad i made the effort to stop and have my look around. i won't hesitate to go back, even if only for another meal. seriously, mcauslan's st ambroise IPA is the real deal, as are the alsatian specialties of the house at le trifle, the best irish pub i've yet found north of the st lawrence.

those french--they have a different word for everything

as steve martin first observed, those french do indeed have a different word for everything, yes, but possibly not in french canada for "irony".

in canada, governmental bilingual signage requirements admonish all english-speaking provinces (which would be all of them, save quebec) to print everything, and i mean EVERYTHING, in both english and french. this is, ostensibly, to make the french canadians feel welcome and equal in their own country, and this is, practically, extremely thorough to the point of farce. a red octagonal sign at an intersection is universally recognizable as a stop sign, whether its festooned with "stop" as it is in the united states, "arret" as it is in quebec, or "stop arret" as it is in the rest of canada. but as surely as american language bigots and their french visitors get by on simply "stop", the french language bigots and their english visitors happily get by on simply "arret", and nobody is confused about the difference, unless it would be the hapless english canadians with both their french and english visitors who are spending all their money on silly "stop arret" signs that nobody actually needs.

well, i don't want to put too fine a point on that "actually needs" part, since, in practice, there are plenty of signs for which having ones native language helps tremendously in their understanding. but this is my point--in french canada, english visitors, whether they be american or canadian, do not always or even often get the information they need from the local signage, and still we are neither insulted nor unable to get by. however, for whatever reason, french canadian visitors to english provinces are deemed via government fiat to be unable to do the same. and that's ironic.

one of the most visible differences between french and english canada is the dearth of canadian flags in the one, and the plethora present among the other. english canadians are just as downright proud of their nation and its flag than any american you will ever meet, and you don't have to be in english canada more than a moment to notice that you are surrounded by a sea of red and white maple leaf banners. so it takes a mile or two into french canada for you to notice, but notice it you will--the flags, if there are any, are all provincial fleur de lis, and they're blue and white. oh, sure, on the odd national government building you'll see a maple leaf, but the effect is just to put the complete absence of such flags elsewhere into stark relief.

maurice duplessis, responsible for "le grand noirceur", ("the great darkness", which is a fascinating period in french canadian history), said "cooperation always, assimilation never", and it's written there right on his statue in trois rivieres, as well as, apparently, across the hearts of the entire province of quebec. a warmer, friendlier welcome you'll never receive as a visitor from out of town, but keep your hometown flags and your hometown hockey logos to yourself. quebec is a french province, and french right to the very last street sign. and they don't mean to let you forget it.

"we're 10 and 1"

its hard to choose the best among the dialogue with which bill murray got to chew the scenery in stripes, but today the choice is "but we're american soldiers--we've been kicking ass for 200 years! we're 10 and 1!". len blum, dan goldberg and harold ramis were, of course, poking and picking the national vietnam scab at the same time as our eternal "exceptionalism", but it's worth mentioning that you don't even have to count to the successful conclusion of our revolution to have reached our first and best kept secret loss--our ridiculous and funny-if-it-weren't-so-tragic invasion of canada.

the english and french, of course, had been fighting over north america for a full century, and most recently in the extended contretemps that began as the "french and indian war" here south of the border, when not-yet-then-general-but-rather-lieutenant-colonel george washington attacked and bayonetted 31 sleeping frenchmen at what would come to be known as jumonville glen, in what would eventually become president's george's great state of ohio. among the unfortunately surprised-and-thus-bayonetted frenchmen was their unfortunate commander, second ensign joseph coulon de villiers sieur de jumonville, who, unlike his french canadien descendants, was to have spoken so little english as to be almost completely unintelligible to the belligerent english commander. either that or he was having his fun, but we will, of course, never really know the truth. some say he was brought, wounded, to colonel washington for interrogation with full military honor and respect befitting his rank, and was then brutally tomahawked by the indian "half king", tanacharison, for slights real or imagined. (tanacharison claimed to have observed his father boiled alive and eaten by frenchmen among his many colorful stories of himself). of course, washington's account portrayed this fanciful version as "without any foundation in fact", lending creedence to other accounts which would have jumonville slain by a musket ball upon the initial volley. however, the truth never really mattering in matters of international belligerence, ("weapons of mass destruction" anyone?), the slain jumonville's half brother, louis coulon de villiers sieur de jumonville, pursued colonel george like a dog through the ohio woods to one of the worst-chosen and constructed fortifications in the history of modern warfare, fort necessity, and exacted both george's surrender, as well as his signature on a document attesting to louis' half-brother's death as an "assassination". and so became the better part of a decade of bloodshed between the english and the french over what british statesman horace walpole would describe as "a volley fired by a young virginian in the backwoods of american that set the world on fire". (not as poetic as longfellow's "shot heard round the world", but of a piece, certainly).

by 1775, the english and french had somewhat buried the sharper end of their hatchet, (pun intended), but enterprising soon-to-be and supremely ambitious americans like benedict arnold had the notion that french canadian farmers, having the bitter taste of the short end of the seven years war stick, would eagerly greet invading american soldiers as liberators (where have i heard that notion before?) and even more eagerly take up arms against the british and join the revolutionary cause, making it that much more compelling for the french to rejoin their barely settled fray with the english on our behalf as well. (oh, how geopolitics makes for the strangest of both real and imaginary bedfellows). or at least that was the rationale...

as we all (hopefully) already know, the continental army was formed upon the success of the massachusetts militia's stunning military defeat of the british army at concord on the 19th of april, for the express purpose of forming a new north american nation free of european meddling and control. however, its impotence being proved by its inability to dislodge the british from their bastion in boston despite a full and protracted summer siege, the continental army, and it's commander-in-chief, george washington, was in dire need of options and traction against the greatest standing army and sailing navy in the world. (it being only a matter of time before king george got around to sending a few frigates loaded with grenadiers to smash up all the colonial toys before they had been properly played with). so enter benedict arnold and major general philip schuyler, with what has to be one of the least-well-thought-out plans for a military campaign ever concocted, that, even so, came within a hairs' breadth of success to none of their credit. first of all, phil schuyler was too frail to even make the complete journey, let alone lead any potential fight, so brigadier general richard montgomery was put in his place to lead the first prong of the attack, up the hudson from ticonderoga, to take the forts at st johns and montreal on his way to quebec. (city, not province--this was all still "new france"). arnold was added as insurance at the head of a second expedition, this time so daft as to start its wandering through the wilds of maine in late october and early november in leaky boats and summer footwear.

montgomery, to his lasting credit, managed his expedition well. he floated up river from ticonderoga in late august, and after several embarrassing keystone kops forays towards the fortifications at st johns under the direction of schuyler, he instead relied upon the suggestion of one of his in-laws to start sharpening his sword on the lightly-defended fort chambly down the river apiece. with a couple cannon he knocked holes in the walls and down the chimney of the main building there, so the british commander was forced to promptly surrender his 83 men and 6 tons of gunpowder. guy carleton, who we shall be hearing from a bit later, tried to reenforce st johns with a canadian foray down from montreal, but was turned back at the st lawrence, and his message of hope to the british garrison intercepted. without hope of relief, and beset by a superior american siege force, st johns was surrendered with full military honors on november 3rd. (pay attention to the dates, because the calendar turns cold up north).

yep, it was snowing in earnest now, and the otherwise short trip up to montreal was hindered by some not inconsiderable weather, though not so much that the surrender of the city couldn't be negotiated and concluded without a shot by november 13th. guy carleton and the defenders of what would become canada got away by ship up towards quebec, but on the 19th, to montgomery's last military credit, the flotilla was intercepted, though carleton was intrepid enough as to escape on foot, and given the time to beat it post haste up to the walled city to the north. the continentals were only so happy to have the free ride (via the captured ships) up the river, but, as was apparently their nature, only so motivated to do so after a couple weeks of sitting around talking about it. about 18 miles from quebec, at pointe aux trembles, on november 28th, montgomery met up with arnold, and all the players were finally upon the stage.

arnold, dilettante that he was, had mistaken the challenge of navigating an expeditionary force up through the wilds of maine to the most extreme degrees possible, including erring on the estimated distance (he though it was less than 200 miles, though it was really more than 400) and bringing all the wrong sorts of (leaky) boats which were incapable of successfully navigating the challenging waters of the kennebec and chaudiere rivers. his authorized force of 1100, including daniel morgan and his virginia riflemen, through both death and desertion, was down to 600 starving wretches by the time it arrived upon the plains of abraham before the gates of quebec on november 14th. yes, november 14th, a full two weeks before meeting up with montgomery 18 miles south--arnold sent one of his guys under a white flag to demand (i said DEMAND) the surrender of the city, an effort which was, i'm sure, laughed at quite thoroughly from behind the walls. without cannon, and barely being able to maneuver in the snow, arnold panicked upon word of a planned canadian sortie from behind the cozy warm and well-fed walls, and retreated back down the river to wait to meet up with montgomery and his boats at pointe aux trembles.

montgomery, to his credit, though he had taken his sweet time doing it, had the foresight to bring along captured british winter clothing, which had been something arnold, in all his late october haste, had neglected to plan to bring with him. so in early december, the two commanders put their heads together, and tried to figure out how to get barely over 1000 combined troops over some very well-constructed and defended city walls to accomplish their goal. the first step seemed perfectly logical--to move the boys back down the river and up toward the city gates and take siege positions on the plains of abraham.

"the plains of abraham" is perhaps one of the most poetic battlefield names to be found anywhere in the world, and their sight is no less stirring. risen from the mile-wide st lawrence river adjacent to the walled city on the promontory, they're at the peak of a remarkable miles-long cliff face, and flat leading up to the city gates in a way to make any advance both obvious and mortally beautiful. the americans had enlisted the aid of a sympathetic frenchman near trois rivieres, cristophe pelissier, who coincidentally owned an iron works at which munitions could be fabricated for the siege. (he, unfortunately for himself, chose to back the wrong pair of horse asses, so had to flee canada upon the failure of the expedition). well armed and full of themselves, arnold and montgomery planned their next move. they were admonished by pelissier not to expect help from the locals without first sacking the provincial capital, (the french bureaucrats, let alone the english military administrators, had a well-proven habit of misusing the french canadians that suggested severe punishment for speaking or acting out of turn, so le quebecois were never ones to be of such ill-judgment to risk their necks on a couple of american political speculators, which should have been such american political speculators' next clue, but, well, they were exceptional americans weren't they, and bent on success, so there you have that much), so they ordered up a siege engineer and got to "work".

"work" in this case consisted of a couple of decidedly unfit-for-the-task mortars, and a shelling of the city that commenced on december 9th. these mortars hardly defaced the walls, let alone damaged them, and by all accounts the locals snug inside were hardly bothered by even the noise. (and again, i'm sure, they all had a good laugh). on the 15th, the brain trust figured they should roll a couple cannons a bit closer to the walls for a more proper bombardment to make the next "demand" for surrender a bit more toothsome, but a couple english batteries on the ramparts chased the american guns within minutes, and i'm sure there was even more laughing to be had at the quebec pubs that night. how anyone without siege guns expected to defeat a walled city in 1775 i have no idea, but montgomery and arnold were not discouraged, and they hatched their final and fateful plan for a frontal assault.

like wade boggs belief that he could will himself to be invisible, montgomery and arnold's master plan was based on their presumption of invisibility to the city defenders if they were to attack at night. of course, in order to be able to coordinate a two-pronged assault in the dark, the masterminds further determined that they should communicate with each other via rocket flares. yep, no joke. the surprise attack was to be coordinated via the firing of rockets. the weather not being bad enough for their satisfaction on the 27th of december, they waited for a better snowstorm, which they finally got on new year's eve, december 31st, 1775.

the original plan for arnold to attack the bastion at the top of the city was scrapped because a deserter was assumed to have spilled the beans, so the new and improved plan was for arnold to run his men completely around the walls on the north, to meet montgomery who was to run his men completely around the walls to the south, and for them all to meet at the lower city gates on the far eastern side to force their way in from the bottom. (running at the walls at the top was obvious suicide, even to them). having now been there myself to see the amount of space between the walls atop the promontory and the narrow strip of ground that runs around three sides of the city, which is to say, hardly 50 yards of width, and so much like the layout at thermopylae as to give anyone with even the slightest exposure to military history hives, i cannot even imagine how arrogant these commanders must have been. but so the assault was ordered, and so history has been written.

arnold had the furthest distance to travel, so his was the side to send the flares when he came into place, the firing of which awoke guy carleton and gave him time to rouse 49 other locals to run down to the barricades at the lowest gate to the city to see what might be up. to guy's amazement, what was up was montgomery's force of 500 having sawed through the first two of three sets of obstacles on the lowest street (still the oldest in the city, and i'll tell you about the restaurants there in another post, because they're amazing) and approaching the third, defended by only 15 men, to see what might be done about it. without waiting to find out, guy ordered the grapeshot loaded, and he stood incredulous, to see the american general and his captains (including john macpherson and jacob cheesman, who both bought it with their commanding officer, as well as the one and only aaron burr himself who didn't) marching straight up to his fortifications to check them out. when they were about 50 yards out, carleton ordered the cannons fired along with a musket volley for good measure, and he killed the three aforementioned of them on the spot, and sent the others running. and he couldn't have missed--we're talking a straight shot down a straight street walled by masonry on both sides so that anything stray would be deflected back down the middle anyway. like ducks in a gallery, or fish in a barrel.

colonel donald campbell, now senior in command of that contingent of continentals, like aaron burr and the other captains hightailing it down the street, immediately turned the tail of the entire force and ran, though still outnumbering the defenders a good 30 to 1, and being within mere yards of everything they had treked hundreds of miles and spent hundreds of lives to win. (he even left montgomery's body behind in the street where it had fallen, to be later buried by the british). the markers where guy carleton and his 50 men organized the defense of all of canada against overwhelming odds stand now on the very spot, though you have to really work to find them, existing as they do on a narrow strip of land now occupied by a four-lane thoroughfare. (i'll talk more about the difficulty of canadian vs the ease of american historical commemoration in another post, but it's a stark contrast for sure). but lets get back to benedict arnold and the other half of the assault, shall we?

after having fired his flares, it still took some time for benny to pick his way around the swampy land to the northerly gate across from which montgomery's force had been turned away at the southerly one just moments before. being no fools, the 50 canadians assembled in the lower town had figured this group of 500 americans wouldn't be so both stupid and cowardly as the first, so they dispersed back up the cobble-streeted hill to take defensive positions in the stone and fortified houses above, where they could better defend themselves in a guerrilla style street battle. arnold took the virtually un-returnable fire from the canadian positions above to indicate he should press on his attack rather than retreat, so he and the americans began an improbable advance up through the city streets, from block to block, and house to house, towards their goal of occupying the main offices of the government and thereby "conquering" canada. unfortunately for arnold, or fortunately if you regard the ultimate defeat, he was hit in the ankle at the first blockhouse and found it impossible to proceed with his men any further, and withdrew, as could be calculated from future stories of his "generalship", from the field.

so now we come to daniel morgan, who, aside from guy carleton who gets huge props for turning aside an assault of 1000 men with merely 50, is my personal hero of the piece.

daniel morgan was dispatched by washington along with arnold up through the wilds of maine, and he and his group of virginia riflemen remained steadfast in their soldiering at every step along the way. equipped with rifles vastly superior to the usual colonial muskets, they were a formidable force in the open country, but proved themselves to be some of the bravest and most capable even in the close engagements of a house-to-house city battle. without arnold, and without the other half of the force calculated necessary to take the city, morgan led the remaining handful of americans forward to accomplish the mission despite every odds. he took the blockhouse from which arnold had received his wound, and more up the hill toward the upper city. he forced the local defenders back at every turn, but was eventually stopped by the two most important features of the overnight battle--the absence of the idiot who had ordered it, and the snow in which he had done so. morgan's knowledge of the battle plan was to meet montgomery before proceeding up the hill to sack the governmental offices, and he was now stuck between that rock, and the hard place of having no more dry powder with which for his men to fire their weapons. all he could figure was to stand in dry corners and wait, both for his compatriots, as well as the drying of his powder. alone with a company of his men, he was mere blocks from the top of the hill, and everything the expedition had set out to accomplish.

guy carleton had stood with 50 canadians to kill or wound all the american generals, turn aside half of the assaulting force, and slow morgan down on his climb up through the city streets. it was heroism rarely seen in this world, and it proved to be just barely enough. with morgan almost within literal sight of the prize, and possessed of newly-dried powder with which to resume the fight, the british army finally decided to get out of bed, and see what was afoot. instead of meeting a superior force in possession of all the seats of power in the city and negotiating with the locals to join them in revolt against the crown, they met rumors of a few dozen determined american soldiers lost in the streets of the city, and a lower city gate easily locked to prevent any escape for the rest who had entered. the 500 british did just that, and after all the other colonials had given up, morgan and his band were finally forced to surrender.

carleton calculated 30 americans killed and 431 taken prisoner, while arnold had it at 60 killed and 300 captured, against which carleton's records indicated 5 canadians killed and 14 wounded. 10 and 1? i'd say 10 and at the very least 2.

of course, arnold being the jerkface he was, he refused to quit the plains of abraham with montgomery's force of which he was only too happy to take command having lost his entire own, claiming somehow that this proved he had not been defeated. outnumbered 3 to 1 by this time, and freezing to literal death on the plain while the canadians and british slept snug and well-fed inside the city walls, he maintained this "siege" for months in the face of carleton's indifference. (carleton, being canadian, had the luxury of learning from past french and english mistakes not to leave the walls to sortie against folks on the open plains, so simply resolved not to do what he didn't have to do). in early may, after arnold had thoughtfully been relieved by washington, and after english ships bearing hundreds of fresh troops had arrived to reinforce and restock the city, the colonials finally decided to beat their final tail-between-their-legs retreat. their general by that time, john thomas, himself also was felled like so many of his soldiers by smallpox, so there really wasn't much of a command structure in place when carleton and his fresh british forces came out from the gates in the better spring weather to clean up the mess at their doorstep. and carleton didn't stop until he had kicked american ass all the way back down to fort ticonderoga where the whole sorry mess had begun.

so much for "greeted as liberators" huh?

if it's tuesday... no, wait, it's monday...

it's been a whirlwind few weeks here and i'm never sure whether to apologize to or congratulate readers for reduced frequency of content. work's been crazy busy and last week it was a vacation tracing the major portions of the route of the 1775/6 us invasion of canada. (i skipped the ride through the wilds of maine without even needing the example of 1775's failure to point out there's little reason to ever go there). but now i'm back and i'll see if i can't recap the salient points throughout the day as time allows. it's remarkable how quickly ones brain is forced to expand when immersed into other places and cultures, and i say "immersed into" and not "confronted with" because i think there's a HUGE difference between an open vs a belligerent mind, and i believe we as americans need far more of the former and far less of the latter if we're to get through the next few years all of one piece, but lets not digress. (i think benedict arnold was taught to agree, though he could have used more study on fidelity before he quit camp and sulked home).

the first point i'll make for the week is to riff on the observation that us scrip is trading at a discount against canadian currency of which is historically almost unheard. unemployment above the 49th parallel (or 45th if you're a vermonter, which illustrates the optical illusion on our maps that new england is nowhere near as far north as folks presume) is around a tolerable 7%, and if they measured it the way we measure it, the number would be even less than that. (what? our government dissembles over how bad things really are? say it isn't so!) their cities are clean, and their hockey teams are even almost as good as ours. (sorry, couldn't resist). their gas, of course, is over $5 a gallon, but they actually walk and bike to work and other places, (even in their winter, which is saying something), and pay a reasonable amount of attention to the sustainability of their environment and their economy. (what a concept!) if you haven't been, make yourself a plan, pack your passport, and head north. it'll do you a world of good.

about the only major policy differences i can name to distinguish the two leading north american economies is to point out the absence of foreign military boondoggling and deficit drunken-sailor-spending on behalf of the canadian government, and we should think about this over the course of the next year as we plan our presidential plebiscite. if you're a leftie, you'll love that they've actually outlawed fox news, not to mention that their universal healthcare system actually works, (though their choice was to err on the side of supply instead of insolvency, so make your appointments early), and, if you're a rightie, you can take solace that after they elected the conservative guy (stephen harper) in '06 they stuck with him since, not to mention that their love of country music is second to none. (i don't take harper's refusal to legislate against abortion rights and gay civil unions as a coincidence to his electability, but, hey, republicans here can pick their party planks any way they choose, regardless of how stupidly they do it).

all in all, there's a lot to love about canada, and love it i surely do. but it's great to be home, and there's no place anywhere like shangri-lowell.

Monday, October 10, 2011

hello, rangoon

(props to duane ingalls glasscock by way of chuck lacquidara)

i leave phone messages and i send emails (the latest one 3 weeks ago, but, of course, like the rest it remains without response) but the city recycling coordinator and solid waste manager ignores all of them. today i forwarded my most recent to the city manager with a copy back to said unresponsive city employee. we'll see if anyone is listening. i know there's a lot of stuff to be cleaned up in the treasurers, city clerks and inspectional services offices, but sooner or later i'm hopeful they'll come to clean up the garbage in the garbage office. ridiculous.

Thursday, October 06, 2011

some (many) people owe the city manager another apology

lots of political vitriol has been spewed on the subject of "professional management" vs "hiring local", with certain local pols (rita mercier for one obvious example) continually excoriating the city manager for his apparent and obvious practice of not granting favoritism to the entrenched city employee base while picking his staff and other city employees. in many cases, of course, the best person for the job is a lowell resident, and certainly bernie has not hesitated to hire that way when it suits him and/or the city. and in some cases, i'm sure, the outside competition has made it unfortunately difficult for a local lowellian to serve. but, in other sensational and scandalous cases, certain entrenched locals have proven themselves to be, at best, corner-cutting exploiters of the system, (yeah, i mean you, sandy ames), or, at worst woefully unqualified to serve in their positions, as have, apparently, proven the entire treasurers' office, if not outright criminals stealing city gas, city employee time, city materials, etc. etc. etc. etc.

you can see today's sun for details on yet another jaw-dropping scandal, but i won't link it, because they charge for content and i'm getting this from the print edition as can all of you. suffice it to say that the treasurers office can't find half a million dollars in accounting discrepancies, and it's possible that the city will never get to the bottom of why, nor recover any funds potentially stolen, misappropriated, or simply lost due to incompetence.

rita, of course, as she did with the city clerk scandal a few weeks ago, is always the first to cry out that the sitting city employees are under-appreciated and under-rewarded, whether she knows the actual truth of her assertions or not. frankly, someone who hands cash over to someone else without audit trail or question is not my idea of a qualified city clerk, but, hey, i must be in the wrong since i agreed with the other councilors who felt squeamish enough to want to retain the temporary outside clerk while they shopped for a qualified permanent one. i'm guessing rita will remain silent on the treasurers office scandal, what with the smoking audit gun just lying there on the table, but in point of fact i think she and all those who have conspired with her to paint the city manager as a carpetbagger owe our city manager a profound apology yet again for the importance of his efforts to hire qualified professionals for these positions, and not simply promote patronage hires who can't do the job, or won't. (we won't even talk about the stealing).

yes, non-lowellians steal, too. but, see, here's the point: when a proper system of accountability and oversight is put in place, it's far harder for both lowellians and non-lowellians alike to steal from our city coffers. if city residents possess the experience and resolve to put them in place, i say let's hire them. but, until then, i also say lay off with the politics while the city manager does his best to clean up DECADES of malfeasance, patronage and graft.

Monday, October 03, 2011

good room plus great music = fantastic saturday night

saturday night we crossed the river to head to fody's in nashua to catch peter lavender and the limbo souls, and i say "we" because, in addition to all the locals there enjoying the invasion, the room was as comfortable and familiar as any in lowell for all the folks recognized and felicitous who had the same idea. (you know how they say certain sports teams "travel well"? well, peter lavender and the limbo souls have proven that they do, too, and they were absolutely playing to a home crowd even as full as it was with "away" fans, too, and the best part is that everybody gets to win when that happens).

so, where was i?

oh, yeah: fody's... fody's is part of the oldest brick building in nashua, and it wears its ambience extremely well. the food (had some jalapeno and corn bisque for starters, and the lobster ravioli for a main course) is well beyond "bar fare", though it's all that, too. (reports on the burgers were uniformly of a rave nature). the prices are comfortable, too. AND (you knew this part had to be coming) they've got fresh newkie (newcastle) brown ale on tap. the dining room gets shifted to hold the music, and the space for the performers is generously and acoustically right on. so, take all that, add peter lavender and the limbo souls, old friends and new friends, and you've got the makings of one fantastic saturday night.

they say you make your own luck. well, let me tell you that i had me one extraordinarily lucky saturday night.

lowell rocks!