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Focus on Talbot: Follow the Money by Dan Watson

December 13, 2019 by Dan Watson 7 Comments

This article is directed to the adults around here, people who didn’t just fall off the turnip truck.

The issue is simple: Will the County Council protect the County’s neighborhoods and residential communities, as rightly expected by local citizens who actually live here full time, whose lives (and not just money) are invested in this special place, who pay local income taxes, and who vote here? Or will Council Members vote against local citizens and facilitate a new boom in “Airbnb” type rentals, feeding the financial interests of non-resident outside investors and a relative handful of (powerful) people who are positioned to benefit financially, notwithstanding the woe it brings to others?

That adage “FOLLOW THE MONEY” is the key yet again.

The County Council is being pressed to relax Short Term Vacation Rental (STR) regulations enacted just last year, when what’s really needed is to strengthen them. This issue is critically important to the future of our community in the long run, but today the only people who seem to be aware of the battle are (1) neighbors of existing STR properties and (2) the relative handful of people—maybe one- or two-hundred of 37,000 Talbot Countians—who stand to make the real, serious money from these arrangements.

Full disclosure: I personally have no dog in this fight. No STR property is yet (!) in my neighborhood, nor do I have any financial interests affected for better or worse by STRs. Indeed, I was hardly aware of the issue until last year’s election…but I’ve been following it pretty closely once I saw the impact an imminent boom in Airbnbs will bring to Talbot County. I am now an advocate for thoughtful regulation—not elimination–of STRs so we can have them but avoid harm to the folks who actually live here, brought about by exploitation of Talbot’s unique merits by outside investors and those who would milk that cow.

This brief commentary cannot delve into the many aspects of STR regulation. But I do want to stress one overarching idea to keep in mind as you read about STRs: FOLLOW THE MONEY.

The Council is being lobbied from two directions. On the one side is an informal group of full-time local residents who have been neighbors of STR properties for years. This amorphous group, with no resources, came together under the banner “Neighborhoods Are For Neighbors” when the zoning code was rewritten last year. They were less than happy with the regulations enacted at that time—the ones that might now be relaxed. (That displeasure in fact led to their participation in the successful effort to oust the Council President.)

On the other side is the newly created Talbot Vacation Advocates (“TVA”), described in their own introductory memo as “a group of concerned Short Term Rental (STR) homeowners, vacation rental companies, tourism businesses, and local professional groups.” While some current STR owners are on the list of members (more on that below), the named organizers—no surprise here—are four (4) vacation rental companies and the Mid-Shore Board of Realtors. Do you doubt TVA has access to resources to lobby this legislation?

These are the businesses that—along with the (almost invariably) out-of-County investors who buy properties for STR or Airbnb use—are the ones making significant money on these internet-enabled ventures. (The largest vaction rental firm behind TVA was recently acquired; it is now a subsidiary of a regional firm that simultaneously markets Airbnb type rentals in Ocean City, the Delaware Beaches, and North Myrtle Beach SC.)

To state the obvious, there is nothing whatever wrong with investing and with making money—I’ve done it myself, in real estate. An investors’ point of view is not somehow illegitimate. What is important is that everyone has their eyes open, and recognizes when self-interest lies behind arguments being advanced to influence public policy.

TVA states that its “aim [is] to partner with and assist the Talbot County Council in revisiting (and, where appropriate reasonably revising) STR regulations.” For me, “partner and assist” is particularly worrisome language given the financial and organizational support the real estate community advanced to some members of the Council in 2018—in fact, today’s majority on the Council.

That some current STR licensees have joined TVA is illogical, but understandable when one reads the scary–but untrue–promotional material TVA’s organizers have put out. It is illogical because the people who already have STR licenses and play by the rules are already in the catbird seat. A sudden boom of new STR properties will mean only more competition, pressure on prices and occupancy. But given TVA’s bald assertion—that “a large group will continue to argue to ban all STRs in Talbot County”—of course all 140 current licensees should rise up.

Having followed this closely for 15 months, read all comments submitted to the STRB, and attended most of their hearings over the summer, I can assure you that no one is advocating a “ban all STRs in Talbot County.” If owners adhere to the law and take reasonable efforts to assure their renters do too, then there is no risk of losing an existing license. (But understand, very few of the STR owners are local residents, and so must go on what they’re told by their rental agents…so, join TVA and send emails to the Council!)

TVA has organized a veritable onslaught of emails to the County Council in recent days pressing for relaxation of STR regulations, and they will have a very big turnout at a public work session at the Community Center’s Wye Room at 5PM on Wednesday night, December 18th. It’s an important moment for those who care about the character of Talbot County.

As you try to follow the merits of the STR debate, just remember: FOLLOW THE MONEY.

More to come….

Dan Watson is the former chair of Bipartisan Coalition For New Council Leadership and has lived in Talbot County for the last twenty-five years.

Through Other Eyes by Angela Rieck

December 12, 2019 by Angela Rieck Leave a Comment

I love to see the world through children’s eyes. I get to re-experience what I have taken for granted. I can wonder at a magically appearing lightning bug, chase a gravity-defying butterfly, run from a scary, squirming crab. I get to point out things that I love and love them even more when I see their wonder.

But I don’t have to see it only through children’s eyes. Recently my New Jersey friends came to visit. I had advised them of the beauty of the Eastern Shore, but they were still awestruck.

They marveled at the gentle, flat landscape punctuated by slowly crawling rivers and creeks.

They were spellbound by the towering elegance of Loblolly pines. Their dark brown bark appears to have been applied by an artist’s palette knife. Dark green pine needles and perfectly shaped pine cones cluster on its branches that make a swishing sound when the wind gently surrounds them.

They delighted in the bluebirds that reside near a barn on the nature trail. The bluebirds (not readily visible in their neighborhood) dazzled them with their deep blue feathers.

But what they loved most was the water, its ubiquitous presence. The slow, wide, barely moving rivers allowed them to relax and experience the peaceful and quiet rhythm of the Eastern Shore.

It always comes back to the water, the statutory creeks and rivers. The glorious multi-hued sunsets mirrored on their glassy surfaces. There is no rushing water, no hills to climb, just a soft peaceful landscape.

It’s nice to see it again for the first time.

Angela Rieck, a Caroline County native, received her PhD in Mathematical Psychology from the University of Maryland and worked as a scientist at Bell Labs, and other high-tech companies in New Jersey before retiring as a corporate executive. Angela and her dogs divide their time between St Michaels and Key West Florida. Her daughter lives and works in New York City.

Out and About (Sort of): Recliner by Howard Freedlander

December 10, 2019 by Howard Freedlander 1 Comment

How could a simple, consensus purchase of a recliner prompt so much discontent from my wife and result in an expensive redo of our family room?

I wasn’t altogether surprised. Recliners have a special place in my wife’s furnishing dislikes.

But this time should have been different. She blessed the purchase.

Except we both were not aware that a comfortable leather chair sitting in the broad expanse of the parking lot of Talbottown Shopping Center on a hot mid-August day during Bountiful’s annual Once in a Blue Moon sale was actually a recliner. Sound ridiculous? Of course.

Trust then verify—we didn’t do that. It looked scalable to the space where it would reside.

When the chair was delivered and placed in a spot in our family room, my wife noticed two things: a recliner was in our midst, and its size dominated the room. Complaints and constant moving around of furniture began in earnest.

It was as if every time my wife looked at our new acquisition—which I loved, and in which I began to nap daily—she felt compelled to express her discomfort.

Meanwhile, the new chair and I bonded immediately. I quickly realized that my wife would never use the recliner. I would be the sole occupant. I could live with that.

To complement/soften the aesthetic effect of the recliner, my dutiful wife commissioned the re-upholstery of cushions and an ottoman. After this work was completed, the protests seemed to diminish, if not vanish.

Peace now reigned in the family room.

Now there is a back story to the brouhaha over the recliner. When we were first married, living in an apartment in which I had lived as a bachelor, I owned a recliner. It was not as fashionable (or expensive) as the current one. To me, it was wonderful, my own seat of power and relaxation. Its ugliness, as seen by others, was not apparent to me.

After a few months of marriage, my beloved recliner vanished. It happened so quickly, I didn’t immediately realize that what was my abode had new co-ownership.

My sense of control was illusory. My decision-making was shared. My input into domestic furnishing and decorating had dissipated. There was a new sheriff in town.

I never imagined that I would own a large, cushy recliner ever again. Instead, I would be left with memories of a solitary existence in an apartment that featured a recliner. I would not yearn for what seemed out of question.

Life takes strange turns. Once again, a recliner adds comfort to my life. My naps are more frequent. My contentment has grown. The electrical controls are easy.

And, yes, my wife is satisfied. I think.

At least for the moment.

Columnist Howard Freedlander retired in 2011 as Deputy State Treasurer of the State of Maryland. Previously, he was the executive officer of the Maryland National Guard. He also served as community editor for Chesapeake Publishing, lastly at the Queen Anne’s Record-Observer. In retirement, Howard serves on the boards of several non-profits on the Eastern Shore, Annapolis and Philadelphia.

The Angel’s Share by Jamie Kirkpatrick

December 10, 2019 by Jamie Kirkpatrick 3 Comments

Iffy, Crumpets, and I had just ordered dinner and somehow—I don’t remember how or why—I said something about the angel’s share. “Wait,” said Iffy. “What’s that?” said Crumpets. And so I began to explain…

When a distilled spirit—whisky, brandy, cognac, for example—is put into a cask to age, a small amount of the liquid seeps through the porous membrane of the barrel and evaporates into thin air. It’s not much—about 1% of the volume of the liquid per year of aging—but enough to satisfy the angels who (like the rest of us!) surely appreciate a wee dram or two when the weather turns cold as it usually does about this time of year. “You mean there’s whisky in the air?” said Crumpets. “Is there bourbon, too?” asked Iffy. “Well, yes,” I said, “but it’s for the angels, not us.” I didn’t have the heart to tell them about the devil’s cut.

The devil’s cut is different. Distilled spirits are often aged in casks that originally held bourbon (or port or sherry) and a fraction of that original spirit remains trapped in the wooden staves of a whisky barrel. That iota of residue is the devil’s cut and it provides the aromatic essence that can give certain whiskies their slightly sweet finish. The tiny loss of liquid volume is the price we gladly pay to the angels and the devil. Just imagine the party they must be having!

There’s metaphoric gold to be mined here. Nothing good comes without a price. The pleasures of our lives may be few and far between—niceties, necessities, even luxuries—but they’re rarely, if ever, free. Clean air, clean water? Just think how much these essentials are worth to us and if you doubt me, ask the good people of Chernobyl or Flint, Michigan how much they would be willing to pay for a lungful of fresh air or a glass of clean water.

Or consider this: if the angels and old Dr. Evil are taking their share and cut out of what is intended for our palettes, is that a tax we pay or a hidden cost of doing business that is quietly passed along to the consumer? Either way, it’s hardly a transparent transaction; in fact, it’s just the opposite. Talk about a cloak of invisibility!

But you know what? I’m ok with sharing with the angels—after all, they do us a world of good. Just ask George Bailey. And as for the devil, I’ll give him his due, too, if only to keep him otherwise engaged and out of my hair. After all, I’d hate to think of the mischief that rascal would make if he were out and about and sober. He would probably be the wise guy that’s rolling back environmental regulations, or denying climate change, or appointing nincompoops to the federal bench, or shaking down Ukrainians, or generally fomenting hate while running water in our sinks and flushing our toilets all day long.

I’m willing to pay my fair share for a safe infrastructure, good public schools, healthy food, and a strong national defense—within reason, of course. If death and taxes are what Daniel Defoe identified as life’s only true certainties in his “Political History of the Devil” way back in 1726, then I’ll gladly pay the latter to avoid the former. And if in the bargain, the angels get their fair share, then I’m all the more for it.

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer with homes in Chestertown and Bethesda. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy magazine. “A Place to Stand,” a book of photographs and essays about Landon School, was published by the Chester River Press in 2015. A collection of his essays titled “Musing Right Along” was published in May 2017; a second volume of Musings entitled “I’ll Be Right Back” was released in June 2018. Jamie’s website is musingjamie.com

The Issue of Our Time by Al Sikes

December 9, 2019 by Al Sikes 1 Comment

In the life of both our place and our family there is no issue more important than climate change and how it is affected by our relationship to the natural infrastructure. Yet it is damnably hard to understand, as a forecast. Complexity is expressed in parts per million and an array of assumed variables. This complexity lends itself to the partisan warriors who specialize in division.

I have struggled to understand the level of future risk and can assure you my knowledge will always be fractional. Yet in my research, I have found America’s National Aeronautical and Space Administration (NASA) deeply informed and their findings clearly stated. A couple of paragraphs from NASA, I hope, will serve as a teaser for skeptics to go to its website.

“Earth-orbiting satellites and other technological advances have enabled scientists to see the big picture, collecting many different types of information about our planet and its climate on a global scale. This body of data, collected over many years, reveals the signals of a changing climate.

The heat-trapping nature of carbon dioxide and other gases was demonstrated in the mid-19th century. Their ability to affect the transfer of infrared energy through the atmosphere is the scientific basis of many instruments flown by NASA. There is no question that increased levels of greenhouse gases must cause the Earth to warm in response.”

Photo by Nanny Trippe

During the coming weeks I am going to share my thoughts on what is widely described as an “existential issue” or the “issue of our times.” I will meander a bit because for me the journey informs the conclusions. My conclusions are not informed by having satellites in the sky. Also, climate trends are not the only challenges we face. Nature’s virtuous circle has been broken.

My wife and I have a small farm called Nature’s Reach. I have the good fortune of practice and result as contrasted with theory and projections. In ways, not intended, Nature’s Reach has become my laboratory or model, if you will. And my perspective is informed by growing up on land that had been “reclaimed”, the swamp was drained and I am not talking about the metaphorical one—but my birth place. I grew up in Southeast Missouri several dozen miles from the Mississippi River.

In Missouri I was a part of a small group that successfully initiated a constitutional initiative to add an eighth of a cent sales tax for the preservation of natural habitats. The issues that shaped that campaign and so many other environmental initiatives were ones in which cause and effect were explicit. There were few hidden variables.

The assertion that we are, in part, responsible for climate change is different and controversial. When it comes to the potential for effective countervailing and timely actions to mitigate climate changes, the controversy thickens. Asking people to make abrupt changes in their lifestyle is, in a sense, a gift to the critics.

When it comes to the issue of our time, there should be constant efforts to find common ground. This, in my mind, should be a first principle. Climate progress will require winsome narratives and broad spectrum alliances—narratives that expand the scope and benefits and alliances that reach across the lines that divide us.

The challenges posed by the undisputed warming trend and its cause are too many and too varied to be resolved or mitigated by anything short of unified actions. In the United States, that means gaining a substantial measure of unity up and down the government hierarchy. And, because individual liberty is both a constitutional guarantee and a cultural imperative, inspired and inspiring leadership is not optional.

I welcome feedback and hope this series of columns might draw our community into a give and take on the issue of the day. If so inclined read and then post your thoughts.

POSTSCRIPT: Each episode in serialized TV shows comes with an ever-so-brief refresher of past episodes. I decided to apply this approach to a series of columns on climate change, except for one variation. There will be one bridge to each column and this is it: Human re-shaping of our natural infrastructure has confronted us with existential issues. This column is one in a series that began with, The Issue of Our Time.

Al Sikes is the former Chair of the Federal Communications Commission under George H.W. Bush. Al recently published Culture Leads Leaders Follow published by Koehler Books.

Snapshots Of Daily Life: Marriage by George Merrill

December 8, 2019 by George R. Merrill 3 Comments

Marriage is an institution unlike any other; it’s all about personalities and there’s nothing as inscrutable as the complexity of personalities.

Soon, my wife and I will celebrate our 36th anniversary. I’ve been thinking about marriage.

What other social institutions can exalt the humble, and humble the exalted like marriages or can calm the troubled and trouble the calm. Marriages drive the sane, mad, and the mad to become sane. Marriages complicate the simplest issues, like the legendary toothpaste cap and simplify the most complicated– like identifying the one “who’s really at fault, here.” Marriages bring happiness and joy and create acrimony and heartbreak. All this because marriage is a microcosm of our human condition. It highlights the most elusive thread in all human interactions: what specifically are the personality conditions that promote mutually satisfying relationships?

Clichés about marriage, the one’s about what it takes to make them work, while folksy, are guesses. I’m convinced nobody really knows. I’m sure this will sound horribly irreverent but I believe marriage is a crapshoot. It is a guess. We have high hopes when we marry but no substantial idea just what we are getting into. I don’t imagine anyone would make big decisions like buying a car, house, refrigerator or taking a job with as little solid information as we have about the person we are about to marry. The varied personality types – widely ranging from poet-like to statistician – decide on a spouse basically in the same way; intuitively. We act on the basis of a feeling not on any well-reasoned rationale. Intuitions may be spot on, but are typically unreliable.

I have been married twice. My first marriage ended in acrimony and heartbreak. My children were hurt. It took me years to finally acknowledge my own pain much less the pain of my ex. It’s common during divorce to fault the spouse for the marriage’s failure. Blame and anger are frequently a defense. There’s a tendency to hang on to grievances, to feed the anger; it’s grief that’s the bitterest legacy of a failed marriage and no one wants to feel its pain in any depth. The loss of what began with such high hopes and grand dreams ended tragically. It’s like experiencing a death but with subsequent ghostly visitations from the ex. Rather to stay angry; it’s less painful to be angry than to feel the grinding ache of grief and loss.

I have been in the second marriage now thirty-six years and in every sense of the word, it has worked. I mean by that, how real love survived the initial excitement of entering into an intimate relationship, as the real differences in personality and temperament emerged. Occasionally we will talk about the marriage and about us and about changes we’ve noticed. We’re pleased how an abiding and deep affection has slowly morphed from the titillations of early love. I keep wondering just what are the conditions that make for a mutually enhancing marriage. How can radically different kinds of people be together in satisfying ways? Is it to be schooled in the psychology of marriages or informed in the complexities of human relationships? I doubt it. I have been a marriage counselor in my career. Among my professional colleagues, one was married three times, with some short-term relationships in the interim, and the other is in his fourth marriage . . . maybe. They both have huge counseling practices. Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach, or in this case, become marriage counselors. Or is the message here that we must have lots of practice–– hands on, in a manner of speaking–– to finally get marriage right. I’m not convinced. Serial monogamy can become a way of life in itself.

At the core of making durable marriages and partnerships, is our need to be together, to know someone is there for us. I know this for certain; there’s a primal fear of being alone in all of us. We need and want others. As much as ants, bees and geese, we are social creatures. With the advent of birth control, marriages have become much more complicated alliances than just being fruitful and multiplying.

Even God was convinced Adam shouldn’t be alone. Early on, he tried some match making. The problem was that God offered him only animals for soul mates. Adam would have none of it. God finally made Eve. It was a great match for a while and like so many marriages, things got out of control and went bad. Strictly speaking, Adam and Eve weren’t married. They lived together but were confronted with the same challenges that any committed partnership demand. For better or worse is an understatement.

One wonders at times what might have happened if Adam had settled for a zebra, or if he went for polygamy, choosing a few cats. For sure, our evolution would have looked a lot different.

Let me offer some of my own guesses about what I’ve thought makes marriages work and how social relationships in general, can be mutually enduring.

Trust is a huge factor; not just sexual fidelity but the sense one has of knowing who the other is and depending on that knowledge; finding something supportive in the other in living out the day-to-day experiences. I’m convinced that a sense of humor also plays a huge role in keeping the boat from rocking too perilously. Humor has a way of softening the hard edges of significant differences. Humor has a way of weaving what are naturally antagonistic threads into a larger cloth, which produces stronger seams. Acrimonious issues when considered humorously, lose a lot of sting.

By now I’m sure it’s clear that I don’t have a real clue why some marriages work while others do not. I have seen couples who are as prickly as porcupines. Yet they seem fine together, as if they’ve found ways to poke each other but only enough not to scuttle the marriage.

Now, in a world grown so rancorous, it seems all the more important that we evolve more holistic views of how to intentionally create mutually enhancing communities, marriages especially. So much begins with a marriage, and now today, partnerships.

One thing I can say with absolute certainty: marriage is a pure blessing when it works.

In our house, a long hallway connects our bedroom to the den. My wife, Jo, rises earlier in the morning than I do. She goes to the den to read. When I first get up from bed, I see directly down the hallway to the den. Her chair sits next to a large window covered with a sheer curtain. The curtain picks up the early morning sun and makes it glow. What I see first thing every morning is her profile as it appears in relief against luminescent background. My snapshot accompanying this essay is what I see. For me, the picture is worth a thousand words.
Most every morning (except when she sleeps in) I see her bathed in light.

I’m grateful for her. I’m grateful for us.

Columnist George Merrill is an Episcopal Church priest and pastoral psychotherapist. A writer and photographer, he’s authored two books on spirituality: Reflections: Psychological and Spiritual Images of the Heart and The Bay of the Mother of God: A Yankee Discovers the Chesapeake Bay. He is a native New Yorker, previously directing counseling services in Hartford, Connecticut, and in Baltimore. George’s essays, some award winning, have appeared in regional magazines and are broadcast twice monthly on Delmarva Public Radio.

Running Around Race by Angela Rieck

December 5, 2019 by Angela Rieck 8 Comments

One of the things that I am a little uncomfortable with on the Eastern Shore is the absence of diversity in my new world. It is not deliberate, but the institutions and groups to which I belong are populated with people like me…we share a common experience, a cultural bond. We wish that we were more diverse, but when we surround ourselves with people who are like us, that is not really possible.

I also wondered if the Eastern Shore might be different because of its Southern roots. I was raised at the end of the Jim Crow era, but I remember it from a child’s perspective. It had such a profoundly negative impact on me that I was determined to raise my daughter in a multi-cultural world.

A Talbot County resident, Margaret Andersen, has written a book, Getting Smart about Race: An American Conversation, for the general public that will be released in February 2020. She is a sociology professor Emerita from the University of Delaware, and the coauthor of Race, Class and Gender: Intersections and Inequalities (now in its 10th printing) among many other books, including Thinking about Women.

You may recognize the name because there is currently an exhibit at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum based on her book, On Land and On Sea: A Century of Women in the Rosenfeld Collection.

Dr. Andersen has been a professor at the University of Delaware since 1974 and has lived in Talbot County for five years but became a frequent visitor in 2003 when she and her husband purchased their sailboat. As a professor of sociology, she devoted her career to studying racial and gender inequality in America.

Knowing that academia is years ahead of the general population, I have asked her to help me try to understand the current status of race in America in general and the Eastern Shore in particular. In several columns, she is going to shed light on questions such as: What happened to the “post racial” society? What can we learn from academic research? And ultimately, can racism be eliminated from America?

My first question is the most obvious one, why are you writing this book?

ANDERSEN: I have been teaching about race and racism for almost fifty years and, when I retired, I wanted to communicate what I know to the general public. When my recent textbook, Race in Society, was published, I knew that most people would not read a 350-page textbook, so I decided to write a book for the general audience to explain the research on race and racism. The book is intended to debunk some of the misconceptions we have about race and racism and provide personal reflections and contemporary examples.

Question: One of the “academic terms” that I see throughout your book is intersectionality. What is it?

ANDERSEN: This term is used to describe how race, class, gender, and other forms of inequality (such as sexual orientation)—overlap in everyone’s experiences and in social justice projects. This work originates from the long-standing criticism from people of color that the feminist movement has been too focused on the experiences of white women. Women of color have been important originators of intersectional thinking, because they have too often been sidelined. Intersectional thinking teaches us that we are all influenced by our race, class, gender, and sexual orientation—thereby shaping the advantages and disadvantages that different groups have.

Question: What has research shown are the misperceptions across races that prevent us from becoming a post-racial society?

ANDERSEN: In my book, I use the phrase “commonsense” racism to describe some of the common beliefs that people have that distort understanding of race and racism. They include such things as, “It’s not about race; it’s about class;” “Immigrants are taking jobs away from other Americans; other immigrants made it—why can’t they?” “My uncle was turned down for a job because they had to give it to a woman of color,” and so forth. My book exposes the problems in such assumptions.

The answers to most of my questions will have to wait for the publication of Dr. Andersen’s book in February. But in anticipation, I have asked her to help me understand a few themes in future columns:

What are the current issues with racism in America and how does Talbot County compare?
Is America currently experiencing a backlash? If so, why?
Is it possible to become a post-racial country? What steps must we take to achieve it?

Quick Take on an Important Moment by Al Sikes

December 4, 2019 by Al Sikes 2 Comments

In 1993 I had an insightful meeting with Michael Bloomberg. I had gone to work for the Hearst Corporation to build a digital business and one day was interviewed at Bloomberg News on the digital future.

At the beginning of the back and forth the reporter said that Michael wanted to visit after the interview. The interview ended and Michael came to escort me to his office for what turned out to be a twenty minute or so window into his leadership style.

Michael set the tone. He wanted to know about my political background with Jack Danforth and Kit Bond (then Missouri’s two United States Senators) and what I had gleaned from those experiences. He then turned to my job as Chairman of the Federal Communications Commission and inquired about the challenges faced in leading a government agency. And then the interview was over.

Absent were Midwestern pleasantries and there was certainly no invitation for me to quiz him about how he saw technology affecting his own business. I left his office, as I later told my wife, “feeling that I had been strip-mined.”

Bloomberg went on to become Mayor of New York City while we lived there and by almost all accounts did a good job. Not a perfect job, but a good one. Not bad when you consider that many felt New York was ungovernable and his adopted Party, Republican, was institutionally weak in the City.

Recently Bloomberg, after equivocating for some months, decided to run for the Presidential nomination of the Democrat Party. I was pleased.

The roll-out of his campaign gave journalists and columnists who write about politics a new target. While I have not consulted artificial intelligence for a word or phrase count, I would guess that the highest volume count would yield the following descriptors: “billionaire”, “too late”, “switched Parties”, “stop and frisk”, “too old”, “buying the election”. If you feel insufficiently informed about any of the above, do a Google search.

After being a bit startled at the efficiency of my visit with Bloomberg, I became an admirer. He did not, after all, build Bloomberg News on pleasantries. He did not become a billionaire on idle talk. He didn’t successfully make the transition from business to New York’s “best Mayor”, by spending words unnecessarily.

Maybe nostalgia requires me to remember a time when “accomplishment” was defining. Today the filter is much different. We strip mine a person’s life and then accentuate apparent mistakes as if humans cannot change. We apply sensitivity filters and woe be to the person who showed insufficient sensitivity regardless of the generational context. And if somebody is theatrically skillful, many translate such skill into a good White House fit.

So let me emulate Bloomberg’s efficient use of words. He is a man of rare accomplishment. He built a very impressive business and then effectively presided over America’s most complicated city.

Should he become the Democratic nominee? I’ll leave that to my Democrat friends to answer, but barring unforeseen developments, he would certainly get my vote.

Al Sikes is the former Chair of the Federal Communications Commission under George H.W. Bush. Al recently published Culture Leads Leaders Follow published by Koehler Books.

Out and About (Sort of): Back Again by Howard Freedlander

December 3, 2019 by Howard Freedlander 1 Comment

Family, plentiful food, football, chatter, dogs, good but cool weather, soothing ocean and lack of crowds—what’s not to like about Thanksgiving week in Rehoboth, DE?

We have established a tradition, one that is maybe five-years-old. Traditions have to start somewhere.

The big, old house, wonderfully located, separated by a road from the beach and Atlantic Ocean, has become a home, populated by memories of anniversaries and holiday celebrations.

Thanksgiving Ocean dipper ignores cold weather

This is not the first, nor the last time I will feel compelled by the muse of reflection to write about an experience devoid of tension or obligation (not completely).

One caveat: untrained and mostly inept, I am the designated turkey-bird carver. I had a mishap this year. I cut myself. I said nothing as I carved and tried to stanch the blood. I was surrounded by bosses who would have sidelined me had they known about my minor wound.

No blood landed on the unsuspecting turkey. I completed my task, pleased with my secrecy. The meal was delicious. The turkey slices were chunkier than preferred due to my momentary lack of hand mobility. The grandchildren were well-behaved; their father permitted them to exit quickly, only to return for dessert.

My bloody mishap was discovered when it came time to clean up. My wife became alarmed at the sight of my finger and summarily dismissed me from the kitchen. My daughter efficiently assumed the nursing duties, demanding I accept her ministrations. As usual, she ignored my stubbornness.

Rehoboth, DE beach draws visitors in cooler weather

As I write this, I am staring at two Labrador Retrievers, resting in their beds after exerting little effort during their pampered stay at the beach. One, unfortunately, is mostly disabled, able to walk with difficulty. The other (ours) is mellow. She endures, rather than seeks exercise. Some have remarked about her weight. I empathize with her—and sometimes give her human food.

Harmony or lack thereof marks most families. It’s unavoidable at times; humans just clash. Though a full participant in conversation, I also observe the dynamic created by very different personalities. The underlying element is strength, softened by compassion and generosity of spirit.

Adaptation is imperative, though not always easy; in some ways, the grandchildren provide a leavening effect. Meeting their needs and keeping peace require constant attention from parents, grandparents and an aunt.

The house is ideal for family togetherness and even quiet separateness. It seems to summon memories and conversation about my deceased in-laws and raucous times fueled by libation and food. While I don’t believe in ghosts, I do believe in the calming intervention of spirit.

Laughter minimizes the pain of loss.

Politics was not a frequent subject. Perhaps it’s because we mostly share the same opinions and sentiments. I realize this is not true of many families; avoidance of sensitive subjects becomes a priority, if not a necessity.

Similar political viewpoints are beneficial to family harmony, I suppose. Peace and tranquility prevail.

Our last day was Black Friday. The commercial onslaught leading to Christmas begins its sales-driven frenzy. I applaud capitalism. On the day after Thanksgiving, however, I’m content to remain bound to my temporary quarters.

For me, it’s Resistance Friday. I refuse to engage in the shopping mayhem—despite the reduced prices.

I witnessed one sight on Black Friday that struck me as crazy and gutsy: a man arrived on the beach, removed all but his bathing suit, jumped into the cold ocean, immediately climbed out and put back on his clothes. He seemed nonplussed.

I took pictures of this ocean dipper. I thought family members wouldn’t believe me without evidence. For a moment, at least, he declared his independence from Rehoboth’s endless outlet malls.

Christmas awaits us in three weeks. I wonder if the intrepid ocean dipper will celebrate by testing his mettle again in the cold Atlantic Ocean.

A Dickens of a Story by Jamie Kirkpatrick

December 3, 2019 by Jamie Kirkpatrick 1 Comment

I suppose you could say that a quiet and rainy Sunday morning really began with a not-so-quiet impromptu dinner party on Saturday evening. Mr. and Mrs. Iffleby had fully intended to attend an annual Christmas gala out in Betterton Bluff but unseen events had transpired in such a way that they thought it wiser to give the coachman and four-in-hand the night off and remain in town.

At the same time the Ifflebys were pondering their evening dining options, Mistress McBetts suddenly found herself unexpectedly alone and in need of a bit of good company on a cold Saturday evening in late November. Somewhat to her own surprise, she knocked on the door of her cheerful neighbors who lived down the street and spontaneously invited them—the Kirkbrites—to supper in her cozy apartments. It was just as she was proffering her kind invitation that a messenger boy also appeared on the Kirkbrites’ doorstep with a note from the Ifflebys inquiring whether they might dine together at the local inn.

In a flash, everything came together: it just so happened that good Mrs. Kirkbrite had spent that very afternoon concocting a savory beef stew that could easily be stretched to accommodate three more so it was readily apparent to her that everyone—the Kirkbrites, the Ifflebys, and Mistress McBetts—should all convene in an hour around the Kirkbrite’s dinner table. When Mrs. Kirkbrite proposed her plan, Mistress McBetts agreed on the spot and the messenger boy was dispatched back to the Ifflebys inviting them to join in an impromptu dinner party. The ifflebys thought it a splendid solution to their dining dilemma, Mistress McBetts went off to fetch a bottle of wine and a dish of Brussels sprouts she had left simmering on the stove which she insisted on contributing to the fare, and Mrs. Kirkbrite reset the table for five while her husband refreshed the fire in the grate and opened a bottle of a modest Bordeaux that would pair well with his wife’s aromatic beef stew.

To no one’s surprise, the impromptu dinner party was a rousing success due, in part, to the stew, the sprouts, a seasonal salad, a fresh baguette just out of the baker’s oven, and some decadent chocolate truffles for dessert. Or perhaps it was due in even larger part to several additional bottles of wine procured from the local Wine and Cheese Shop at the very last minute, as well as a wee dram or two of Mr. Kirkbrite’s favorite Highland malt whisky which he proudly served after dinner. As the candles on the dinner table burned low, everyone heartily agreed that spontaneity, not honesty, was indeed the very best policy.

And so it certainly seemed that evening. If a passerby had looked through the Kirkbrite’s frosted front window pane and seen the happy friends gathered around the table, he (or she) might have felt a stab of regret that she (or he) was not included in such a merry gathering. But what the passerby would not see or know is that a very merry Saturday evening is inevitably followed by a dreich Sunday morning when one wishes that he and she had not consumed quite so copiously of such hearty food and quaffable drink.

Ah well, such is life and as we all know, life does go on. And so it did: Iffleby—good churchman that he was—went off to services with just a touch or regret and a slight headache. Mrs. Iffleby remained at home in her dressing gown and poured herself a second cup of tea which she took to her fainting couch. For her part, Mistress McBetts slept until almost noon. As for the Kirkbrites, wife spent the day recovering with a good book while husband retired to his study with a large pot of black coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs which he felt was the good and necessary soakage he would need if he were to write a Dickens of a story about a spontaneous dinner party with good and true friends. He worked for an hour or two, finishing his story just in time for Sunday lunch with these words:

“I’ll be right back.”

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