Here are the other photos.... scroll down for more of Mr. Moose!
August 4, 2007
Burgers, anyone?
This is just one of several shots Laura took during our annual summer vacation at Rangeley Lake. This moose was very friendly as you will see below, along with some other wildlife photos Laura took...
MERC: Your input wanted
As you may already know, I was appointed by the Biddeford City Council last week to serve as one of two public representatives on the Maine Energy Recovery Company Citizens Advisory Committee.
For the better part of the last decade, I have followed the Maine Energy issue very closely. Because of my former occupation as a Biddeford-based journalist, I have a keen appreciation of how important this issue is to the citizens of Biddeford.
I was honored to be asked to serve on this committee, but it is paramount that I represent all citizens and all perspectives during my service on the committee. Thus, I am inviting anyone with concerns, suggestions or ideas to contact me directly so I may bring those concerns to the table as one of your representatives.
Please feel free to contact me at 571-4376, my home telephone number; or via e-mail at randyseaver@hotmail.com. I look forward to discussing these issues with concerned citizens, and appreciate the faith and trust bestowed upon me by Mayor Nutting and the Biddeford City Council.
Thank you,
For the better part of the last decade, I have followed the Maine Energy issue very closely. Because of my former occupation as a Biddeford-based journalist, I have a keen appreciation of how important this issue is to the citizens of Biddeford.
I was honored to be asked to serve on this committee, but it is paramount that I represent all citizens and all perspectives during my service on the committee. Thus, I am inviting anyone with concerns, suggestions or ideas to contact me directly so I may bring those concerns to the table as one of your representatives.
Please feel free to contact me at 571-4376, my home telephone number; or via e-mail at randyseaver@hotmail.com. I look forward to discussing these issues with concerned citizens, and appreciate the faith and trust bestowed upon me by Mayor Nutting and the Biddeford City Council.
Thank you,
June 28, 2007
That damn novel
So, the whole reason I started a blog was to share my writing. Where's my writing?? How about a piece of the novel I started writing nearly 15 years ago? We'll start this evening with the prologue.
****************
It was the sum realization of a lifetime, and David Haskell couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. Staring at the computer monitor, he wondered if he was making the right decision. There was only one thought prevailing among the thousands of others in his crowded mind: After all this time— could he possibly know what the right decision was anymore?
The house was dark, save for the bluish haze of the computer screen. David had been drinking. It was the only way he could find the courage necessary to execute the chain of events that he had been contemplating for the last three months.
He took another swig from the bottle beside him. The bourbon couldn't stop the shaking. David knew that the drinking wouldn't help— but he no longer cared.
The memo was only four paragraphs in length; some 400 words to describe the hell that he had helped to create.
Would sending this message be worth the consequences? He forced a laugh, reaching for a nearly-empty pack of cigarettes. “Screw 'em,” he whispered, hitting the return key. Within seconds, David's confession was coded and sent deep into cyberspace, making its way toward an unwitting recipient.
What's done was done.
He took a long drag on his Camel, feeling some small measure of satisfaction. Too many people had died. Too many lies. It was time for some truth. With his eyes still closed, David reached down and opened the desk drawer. Reaching inside, he felt the cold, yet welcome, steel of the Lorcin semi-automatic.
He kept his eyes closed, crushing the remains of his cigarette on the desk and lodged the muzzle of the gun beneath his chin, slowly wrapping his index finger around the trigger.
“Forgive me, Beth,” he sobbed before squeezing the trigger.
With that, the deputy national security advisor was no longer a threat to those who were worried about his loyalties.
Yard work
As many of you know, my yard is my obsession. Here are a few photos to show how out of control I have been during the past few weeks. Given the new family member (see next post) this will most likely be the last time the back yard looks like this. My friend Parke says the reason I spend so much time working on the yard is because I have all but given up on the inside of the house. Parke knows me too well.
November 25, 2006
Long time, no update
I know...I know....I've heard from many faithful readers that there is a serious lack of updates on this blog. I mean to correct this problem immediately. As for home impro
vements, I will be posting several before and after photos.Also, within a few hours, I will upload photos of PHASE THREE of the Seaver outdoor holiday decoration project.
To get you started, here are a few shots of the living room project. This first picture shows how the room looked when we first toured the property with our real estate agent a little more than two years ago.
This next photo shows the same room, from the same angle how it looks today.
May 24, 2006
Lower Your Cable Bill! We should have choices!
I don't know about you, but I'm sick and tired of having no choice about what company provides my cable tv service. Well, there's some good news on the horizon! Congress is now considering the Barton-Rush bill, a bi-partisan, consumer-oriented bill that would open up markets for competition in the cable industry.
Many companies, both large and small, are poised to enter the arena and that would drive down costs and expand consumer options because of increased competition. Unfortunately, the piecemeal and parochial method now used to negotiate franchise agreements, effectively blocks out the potential for other providers.
I have no problem with Time-Warner offering phone service, I just think that the phone companies and ISPs should be able to offer video services. The Barton-Rush Bill (HR5252) meets that need and would provide individual communities with increased leverage during franchise negotiations.
In a rural state like Maine, we have a real opportunity to expand the digital highway by fostering an environment of fairness and competition. Doesn't that sound better than paying more taxes so that people up north can also be limited to just one choice?
For more information, please visit: www.wewantchoice.com
Please join me in contacting our Congressional delegation about this issue. Tell them Maine consumers should have choices. Tell Congress to support the Barton-Rush Bill. The contact information for our delegation is listed below:
Rep. Tom Allen: 1-888-862-6500 (toll free)
rep.tomallen@mail.house.gov
Rep. Mike Michaud: (202) 225-6306
rep.mikemichaud@mail.house.gov
Sen. Olympia Snowe: 800-432-1599
Many companies, both large and small, are poised to enter the arena and that would drive down costs and expand consumer options because of increased competition. Unfortunately, the piecemeal and parochial method now used to negotiate franchise agreements, effectively blocks out the potential for other providers.
I have no problem with Time-Warner offering phone service, I just think that the phone companies and ISPs should be able to offer video services. The Barton-Rush Bill (HR5252) meets that need and would provide individual communities with increased leverage during franchise negotiations.
In a rural state like Maine, we have a real opportunity to expand the digital highway by fostering an environment of fairness and competition. Doesn't that sound better than paying more taxes so that people up north can also be limited to just one choice?
For more information, please visit: www.wewantchoice.com
Please join me in contacting our Congressional delegation about this issue. Tell them Maine consumers should have choices. Tell Congress to support the Barton-Rush Bill. The contact information for our delegation is listed below:
Rep. Tom Allen: 1-888-862-6500 (toll free)
rep.tomallen@mail.house.gov
Rep. Mike Michaud: (202) 225-6306
rep.mikemichaud@mail.house.gov
Sen. Olympia Snowe: 800-432-1599
March 15, 2006
So long and thanks for all the fish!
From the December 15, 2005 Biddeford-Saco-OOB Courier
Talk about pressure and expectations . . .
Sure, I had a lot of ideas about what I could write in this space, but since most of us are smack dab in the middle of celebrating Christmas, Chanukah, Ramadan, Kwanza or the winter solstice — none of my ideas seemed appropriate.
For my last column, I wanted something clever and pithy; something that would make readers say, “boy, we’re sure going to miss that Seaver guy.”
But given the talent that is set to follow me in this space, it’s far more likely that most people will be very glad once my rambling has finally ceased. So this is it. This is where it ends. Kaput.
Jack Anderson, one of the best political columnists to ever bang on a typewriter, died on Saturday. His column ended roughly two years before his death, but his legacy inspired a generation of journalists. I was one of them.
No, I’m not comparing myself to the king of political muckrakers, it’s just that I’ve always hated bullies, and that resentment became the fuel for this column.
Maybe it’s because I was routinely bullied when I was a kid. Although I lived in fear of guys like Gray Phillips, I suffered at the hands of much less noble kids whom shall remain anonymous in the spirit of the approaching holiday.
I got to see Gray a few weeks ago, when I wrote an ad for his Saco-based real estate agency. When we were all kids at Young School in Saco, Gray Phillips was ranked as the second “toughest” kid in the school, but the funny thing is — I don’t recall ever seeing him in a fight.
When I reminded him of his ranking, Gray had only one question: “who was No. 1?” Not surprisingly, the toughest of the tough landed in prison, and his flawed reputation doesn’t need an additional public potshot from Randy Seaver just a few days before Christmas.
Gray, unlike the bullies, never flaunted his power. He was as confident and gracious then as he is now. He was (and is) a big, tough guy with a soft spot for the little guys. Many other kids were not as compassionate or decent.
Those little cretins know who they are, and they better hope their paths don’t cross mine anytime in the near future because I’m a lot bigger now than I was in the sixth grade.
When I think of all the milk money they stole from me (and the interest owed when compounded over a 30-year term) it’s like thinking of winning the lottery.
So, yes . . . I don’t like bullies, especially those who have been entrusted with power by voters and then develop egos that couldn’t fit into the new Biddeford Middle School gymnasium.
This is the 323rd installment of All Along the Watchtower, and it is the last one that will be published on these pages. I look back on those columns with a combination of loathing and fondness. As with all things, some of those columns were better than others.
I never played favorites. I went after liberals and conservatives; Democrats and Republicans; men and women, without discrimination.
But I wasn’t always as gracious as people like Gray Philips who know better than to abuse their power. The only thing I can say about my mistakes — when I crossed the line of public advocacy — is that I tried to learn from those follies without losing my zeal for exposing the bullies and their agendas.
Political bullies are very much like their school-yard counterparts. They’re just not as clever, and they often cloak themselves in robes of self-described nobility and purpose.
Jack Anderson went after the heavy-hitters like Richard Nixon and Sen. Chris Dodd. I had to settle for people like Richard Rhames and Jim Grattelo.
I have fond memories of this gig. I remember driving my old, beat-up Subaru around the Thacher Brook subdivision in Biddeford with Kyle Noble hiding on the floorboards of my passenger seat while we attempted to unearth a secret meeting of the City Council that was reportedly happening at Marc Lessard’s home.
Lessard spotted us as we circled the cul-de-sac for the fifth time and invited us inside his home for a drink with him and Grattelo. There was no secret meeting. So there you go, I’m no Jack Anderson.
I remember when Biddeford City Councilor Christina Manikas pounded the council dais with a stick that some public works employee errantly left on the front lawn of a Lamothe Avenue home, doing her best impression of Nikita “we will bury you” Khrushchev to the delight of public access television viewers throughout Biddeford.
And I remember when Saco City Councilor Leslie Smith fell asleep during a public meeting, just moments after he said, “I could give a zippity-doo-dah about being the deputy mayor.”
There are a lot more memories, probably enough to fill another 323 columns. But it’s time for me to move on and to say good-bye.
If you haven’t had enough, and if you’d like to read Laura’s thoughts about my pending departure from this gig, you can visit the All Along the Watchtower blog on the Internet.
There, you can read more of my (unedited) insipid ramblings about local politics while also viewing photos of my family and my beloved lawn. You can also post your own comments and help keep this column alive, if only in cyberspace.
The address is http://randyseaver.blogspot.com/ Or you can drop me a line at randyseaver@hotmail.com
So long, and thanks for all the fish. And yes, have yourself a very merry Christmas!
Talk about pressure and expectations . . .
Sure, I had a lot of ideas about what I could write in this space, but since most of us are smack dab in the middle of celebrating Christmas, Chanukah, Ramadan, Kwanza or the winter solstice — none of my ideas seemed appropriate.
For my last column, I wanted something clever and pithy; something that would make readers say, “boy, we’re sure going to miss that Seaver guy.”
But given the talent that is set to follow me in this space, it’s far more likely that most people will be very glad once my rambling has finally ceased. So this is it. This is where it ends. Kaput.
Jack Anderson, one of the best political columnists to ever bang on a typewriter, died on Saturday. His column ended roughly two years before his death, but his legacy inspired a generation of journalists. I was one of them.
No, I’m not comparing myself to the king of political muckrakers, it’s just that I’ve always hated bullies, and that resentment became the fuel for this column.
Maybe it’s because I was routinely bullied when I was a kid. Although I lived in fear of guys like Gray Phillips, I suffered at the hands of much less noble kids whom shall remain anonymous in the spirit of the approaching holiday.
I got to see Gray a few weeks ago, when I wrote an ad for his Saco-based real estate agency. When we were all kids at Young School in Saco, Gray Phillips was ranked as the second “toughest” kid in the school, but the funny thing is — I don’t recall ever seeing him in a fight.
When I reminded him of his ranking, Gray had only one question: “who was No. 1?” Not surprisingly, the toughest of the tough landed in prison, and his flawed reputation doesn’t need an additional public potshot from Randy Seaver just a few days before Christmas.
Gray, unlike the bullies, never flaunted his power. He was as confident and gracious then as he is now. He was (and is) a big, tough guy with a soft spot for the little guys. Many other kids were not as compassionate or decent.
Those little cretins know who they are, and they better hope their paths don’t cross mine anytime in the near future because I’m a lot bigger now than I was in the sixth grade.
When I think of all the milk money they stole from me (and the interest owed when compounded over a 30-year term) it’s like thinking of winning the lottery.
So, yes . . . I don’t like bullies, especially those who have been entrusted with power by voters and then develop egos that couldn’t fit into the new Biddeford Middle School gymnasium.
This is the 323rd installment of All Along the Watchtower, and it is the last one that will be published on these pages. I look back on those columns with a combination of loathing and fondness. As with all things, some of those columns were better than others.
I never played favorites. I went after liberals and conservatives; Democrats and Republicans; men and women, without discrimination.
But I wasn’t always as gracious as people like Gray Philips who know better than to abuse their power. The only thing I can say about my mistakes — when I crossed the line of public advocacy — is that I tried to learn from those follies without losing my zeal for exposing the bullies and their agendas.
Political bullies are very much like their school-yard counterparts. They’re just not as clever, and they often cloak themselves in robes of self-described nobility and purpose.
Jack Anderson went after the heavy-hitters like Richard Nixon and Sen. Chris Dodd. I had to settle for people like Richard Rhames and Jim Grattelo.
I have fond memories of this gig. I remember driving my old, beat-up Subaru around the Thacher Brook subdivision in Biddeford with Kyle Noble hiding on the floorboards of my passenger seat while we attempted to unearth a secret meeting of the City Council that was reportedly happening at Marc Lessard’s home.
Lessard spotted us as we circled the cul-de-sac for the fifth time and invited us inside his home for a drink with him and Grattelo. There was no secret meeting. So there you go, I’m no Jack Anderson.
I remember when Biddeford City Councilor Christina Manikas pounded the council dais with a stick that some public works employee errantly left on the front lawn of a Lamothe Avenue home, doing her best impression of Nikita “we will bury you” Khrushchev to the delight of public access television viewers throughout Biddeford.
And I remember when Saco City Councilor Leslie Smith fell asleep during a public meeting, just moments after he said, “I could give a zippity-doo-dah about being the deputy mayor.”
There are a lot more memories, probably enough to fill another 323 columns. But it’s time for me to move on and to say good-bye.
If you haven’t had enough, and if you’d like to read Laura’s thoughts about my pending departure from this gig, you can visit the All Along the Watchtower blog on the Internet.
There, you can read more of my (unedited) insipid ramblings about local politics while also viewing photos of my family and my beloved lawn. You can also post your own comments and help keep this column alive, if only in cyberspace.
The address is http://randyseaver.blogspot.com/ Or you can drop me a line at randyseaver@hotmail.com
So long, and thanks for all the fish. And yes, have yourself a very merry Christmas!
Charge It:
From the August 4, 2005 Courier
Bill Clinton’s new book: $29.95
An autographed copy of John Kerry’s campaign sign: $350.
The look on Karl Rove’s face when he is fired? Priceless.
There are some things that money can’t buy.
For everything else, there’s MasterCard.
No, that’s not a real commercial, but it could be, especially when you consider that Maine Democrats are now seeking to raise money by promoting a new, low-interest rate MasterCard.
Although it seems more bizarre the longer you think about it, Democratic activists throughout Maine don’t seem to flinch when asked how they could get behind a program that urges increasing personal debt in order to fund the campaigns of those who claim to be the champions of the impoverished.
Republicans, by the way, don’t need a credit-card program. The GOP, in fact, would tell you to save your money for a rainy day and advise you not to use your credit cards.
And members of the Green Party don’t need credit cards. There’s plenty of seaweed on the beach that would make for a tasty stew if you want to go out for dinner with that special someone.
Okay, so it’s pretty easy to poke fun at this program, but it is a disturbing concept. As Americans’ personal debt numbers continue to skyrocket, the party of the working class says you can help yourself by applying for yet another handy hunk of plastic with a magnetic strip.
The GOP, according to July reports from the Federal Elections Commission, has roughly $36 million on hand. The Democrats have raised less than a quarter of that during the same time period.
I guess it’s a no-brainer for someone like Pat Colwell, chair of the Maine Democratic Party, to label GOP donors as “corporate fat cats, but Pat ought to look a little deeper when pondering how his party can get back on track.
And here’s a secret for all you Democrats out there: credit card companies, whether “progressive” or not, all function to make money . . . lots of money.
But the news just gets more bizarre. Take, for example, this week’s revelation from the Associated Press that Jimi Hendrix claimed he was gay in order to avoid combat duty in Vietnam.
The information was apparently contained in Jimi’s military medical records and was revealed for the first time in Charles R. Cross' new biography “Room Full of Mirrors.”
Since he “faked” being gay — long before Mr. Clinton’s infamous “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was put into place — Hendrix was discharged from the 101st Airborne in 1962.
From there, Hendrix became a musical legend. Even now, years after his untimely death, Hendrix is often mistakenly credited with penning the song that inspired this column’s name, All Along the Watchtower.
As a reminder, the song was written by John Wesley Hardin and later released nationally by Bob Dylan long before Jimi got his hands on it.
Although the song was later covered by many other musicians — from Michelle Shocked to U2 — Jimi’s version is still the one that gets us white, middle-aged guys all worked up as we crank the stereos in our SUVs whenever it’s played on “classic rock” radio stations.
Hendrix, even for those of us too young to remember his heyday, was certainly the least gay person to ever crawl the planet. But I doubt it would have mattered to his fans. The only people who would have cared would be guys like Karl Rove, Michael Heath and George, Jr.
There’s no reason to get excited, fellas. Jimi’s no longer a threat and he’s no longer wielding a guitar or a MasterCard. Excuse me, while I kiss this guy . . .
And then, there is the sad news.
If Darth Vader were a real person, I suspect he would have said there was “a disturbance in the force” last week.
After more than a decade of service, veteran Biddeford City Councilor Raymond Cote told the Courier last week he would not be seeking another term on the city council.
Speaking just for me, Mr. Cote will be a sorely missed presence on the ever-entertaining city council. For the record, Mr. Cote (the prefix serves as a symbol of my undying respect for this man) never found himself on the biting end of my pen.
The reasoning behind that is not complicated.
Mr. Cote, as one of Clint Eastwood’s characters once said, was the “one constant in an ever-changing universe.”
Whenever his name appeared on the ballot, Mr. Cote would lead the pack with number of votes received. Although I was not around when “Babe” Dutremble was the mayor, it is abundantly clear to me why Mr. Cote was consistently so popular with the city’s voters.
He remains today, a straight-shooting, no-nonsense guy. His wiry frame and genuine smile belie a life lived on simple terms during extraordinary circumstances. A member of this country’s so-called greatest generation, Cote, 79, lied about his age so he could enlist in the Navy and serve his country during WWII.
The love of his life, his wife, Rena, passed away in May 2003. “I kept going after that,” he told me. “It gave me something to do at night. But now, I want to have a little time to myself. I just think it’s time to move on.”
In the days following the Sept. 2001 terrorist attacks on America, Ray and Rena Cote quickly organized the Biddeford-Saco Patriots’ Parade. He seemed never to tire, and was always willing to give more to his hometown.
If I can ever be half the man Raymond Cote is today, I will be more successful than my wildest expectations. His deft sense of humor, his unassuming wisdom and that famous smile served the city well for many years. I wish him the best of luck during his well-deserved retirement from public life.
Bill Clinton’s new book: $29.95
An autographed copy of John Kerry’s campaign sign: $350.
The look on Karl Rove’s face when he is fired? Priceless.
There are some things that money can’t buy.
For everything else, there’s MasterCard.
No, that’s not a real commercial, but it could be, especially when you consider that Maine Democrats are now seeking to raise money by promoting a new, low-interest rate MasterCard.
Although it seems more bizarre the longer you think about it, Democratic activists throughout Maine don’t seem to flinch when asked how they could get behind a program that urges increasing personal debt in order to fund the campaigns of those who claim to be the champions of the impoverished.
Republicans, by the way, don’t need a credit-card program. The GOP, in fact, would tell you to save your money for a rainy day and advise you not to use your credit cards.
And members of the Green Party don’t need credit cards. There’s plenty of seaweed on the beach that would make for a tasty stew if you want to go out for dinner with that special someone.
Okay, so it’s pretty easy to poke fun at this program, but it is a disturbing concept. As Americans’ personal debt numbers continue to skyrocket, the party of the working class says you can help yourself by applying for yet another handy hunk of plastic with a magnetic strip.
The GOP, according to July reports from the Federal Elections Commission, has roughly $36 million on hand. The Democrats have raised less than a quarter of that during the same time period.
I guess it’s a no-brainer for someone like Pat Colwell, chair of the Maine Democratic Party, to label GOP donors as “corporate fat cats, but Pat ought to look a little deeper when pondering how his party can get back on track.
And here’s a secret for all you Democrats out there: credit card companies, whether “progressive” or not, all function to make money . . . lots of money.
But the news just gets more bizarre. Take, for example, this week’s revelation from the Associated Press that Jimi Hendrix claimed he was gay in order to avoid combat duty in Vietnam.
The information was apparently contained in Jimi’s military medical records and was revealed for the first time in Charles R. Cross' new biography “Room Full of Mirrors.”
Since he “faked” being gay — long before Mr. Clinton’s infamous “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was put into place — Hendrix was discharged from the 101st Airborne in 1962.
From there, Hendrix became a musical legend. Even now, years after his untimely death, Hendrix is often mistakenly credited with penning the song that inspired this column’s name, All Along the Watchtower.
As a reminder, the song was written by John Wesley Hardin and later released nationally by Bob Dylan long before Jimi got his hands on it.
Although the song was later covered by many other musicians — from Michelle Shocked to U2 — Jimi’s version is still the one that gets us white, middle-aged guys all worked up as we crank the stereos in our SUVs whenever it’s played on “classic rock” radio stations.
Hendrix, even for those of us too young to remember his heyday, was certainly the least gay person to ever crawl the planet. But I doubt it would have mattered to his fans. The only people who would have cared would be guys like Karl Rove, Michael Heath and George, Jr.
There’s no reason to get excited, fellas. Jimi’s no longer a threat and he’s no longer wielding a guitar or a MasterCard. Excuse me, while I kiss this guy . . .
And then, there is the sad news.
If Darth Vader were a real person, I suspect he would have said there was “a disturbance in the force” last week.
After more than a decade of service, veteran Biddeford City Councilor Raymond Cote told the Courier last week he would not be seeking another term on the city council.
Speaking just for me, Mr. Cote will be a sorely missed presence on the ever-entertaining city council. For the record, Mr. Cote (the prefix serves as a symbol of my undying respect for this man) never found himself on the biting end of my pen.
The reasoning behind that is not complicated.
Mr. Cote, as one of Clint Eastwood’s characters once said, was the “one constant in an ever-changing universe.”
Whenever his name appeared on the ballot, Mr. Cote would lead the pack with number of votes received. Although I was not around when “Babe” Dutremble was the mayor, it is abundantly clear to me why Mr. Cote was consistently so popular with the city’s voters.
He remains today, a straight-shooting, no-nonsense guy. His wiry frame and genuine smile belie a life lived on simple terms during extraordinary circumstances. A member of this country’s so-called greatest generation, Cote, 79, lied about his age so he could enlist in the Navy and serve his country during WWII.
The love of his life, his wife, Rena, passed away in May 2003. “I kept going after that,” he told me. “It gave me something to do at night. But now, I want to have a little time to myself. I just think it’s time to move on.”
In the days following the Sept. 2001 terrorist attacks on America, Ray and Rena Cote quickly organized the Biddeford-Saco Patriots’ Parade. He seemed never to tire, and was always willing to give more to his hometown.
If I can ever be half the man Raymond Cote is today, I will be more successful than my wildest expectations. His deft sense of humor, his unassuming wisdom and that famous smile served the city well for many years. I wish him the best of luck during his well-deserved retirement from public life.
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