MENU

Sections

  • Home
  • About
    • Contact Us
    • Editors and Writers
    • Join our Mailing List
    • Letters to Editor Policy
    • Advertising & Underwriting
    • Code of Ethics
    • Privacy
    • Talbot Spy Terms of Use
  • Art and Design
  • Culture and Local Life
  • Public Affairs
    • Ecosystem
    • Education
    • Health
    • Senior Life
  • Community Opinion
  • Sign up for Free Subscription
  • Donate to the Talbot Spy
  • Cambridge Spy
  • Chestertown Spy

More

  • Support the Spy
  • About Spy Community Media
  • Advertising with the Spy
  • Subscribe
September 24, 2023

Talbot Spy

Nonpartisan Education-based News for Talbot County Community

  • Home
  • About
    • Contact Us
    • Editors and Writers
    • Join our Mailing List
    • Letters to Editor Policy
    • Advertising & Underwriting
    • Code of Ethics
    • Privacy
    • Talbot Spy Terms of Use
  • Art and Design
  • Culture and Local Life
  • Public Affairs
    • Ecosystem
    • Education
    • Health
    • Senior Life
  • Community Opinion
  • Sign up for Free Subscription
  • Donate to the Talbot Spy
  • Cambridge Spy
  • Chestertown Spy
Arts Delmarva Review Top Story

Delmarva Review: Full Moon on the Water by John Philip Drury

September 9, 2023 by Delmarva Review

Editor’s Note: John Philip Drury’s personal essay is from his full-length memoir to be released in August 2024. Drury was born in Cambridge, Maryland, and now writes from Ohio, where he is professor emeritus at the University of Cincinnati.

Author’s Note: “This is the last chapter in Bobby and Carolyn: A Memoir of My Two Mothers, and it recounts a night my mother celebrated secretly for the rest of her life. She and Carolyn raised me together after my father left, calling themselves cousins in order to rent places together. When Carolyn died, my mother’s full name (not Bobby, her nickname) was engraved on the back of the tombstone they shared in Dorchester Memorial Park—like the marker shared by Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas in Père Lachaise Cemetery, in Paris.”

Full Moon on the Water

ON JULY 31, 1958, the moon had just passed the point of being completely full, but it would have still looked full to my mother and Carolyn as they drove the Chevrolet Bel-Air from the gravel parking lot of Whispering Pines, strewn with brown needles, where they had just bought a fifth of bourbon, and eased down the single-lane Buck Bryan Road, with loblolly pines on one side and cornfields on the other. The road was named for the owner of the liquor store and led to his house on the shore of Bolingbroke Creek, which everybody called Bowling Brook. 

Their windows would have been wide open, since cars didn’t have air-conditioning in those days, and it was a warm, humid summer night. But a breeze was blowing off the water. The question was, did they pull into the woods in one of the clearings, or did they continue toward the water? How do I know, in any case, what they were doing on that particular night? 

My mother liked to keep records. I learned from her how to annotate receipts when I paid bills, but only when she was too ill to do her own and I had to take over. Once you start the habit, if you’re the slightest bit obsessive-compulsive, you have to continue, if only for the “tiny insane voluptuousness” that Theodor Storm describes in his poem on working at a desk, the pleasure of “getting this done, finally finishing that.” 

She liked to keep a datebook for each year, so I have a record of when she did this and did that. On July 31, she almost always remembered to write “CBD and CL” and “Anniversary” and however many years had passed since 1958. What were they celebrating? Why did my mother continue to commemorate the date? 

I didn’t know the answer until my mother died, when I went through a large plastic storage box she kept under her bed. I knew she had destroyed a stack of letters Carolyn had received, presumably from lovelorn suitors whom she had spurned. She claimed she had burned them, but that sounds like a lot of work and a sooty mess if you lacked a fireplace. She made a point of telling me that she disposed of the letters so I wouldn’t get them and use them as “material.” 

But she did not get rid of Carolyn’s green diary for 1958, the crucial year that was both annus mirabilis and annus horribilis for the two women and me. My mother kept it in a tin box, among her dearest treasures. Although the book said “Diary,” it was really a datebook like those my mother kept, except more elegantly bound. Carolyn had marked down reminders about which students had voice lessons when, which friends she was seeing for dinner, whose birthdays were coming up, which doctors’ appointments she had to keep. Every month, she wrote “CURSE” in red letters, presumably to indicate her menstrual periods. On December 18, she wrote “We Started South” when the three of us left Maryland and headed toward Texas, not knowing then that we wouldn’t get past Alabama. 

Here’s what she wrote in her diary on July 31, with the date underlined: 

Marito
e moglie
felice per sempre 

“Husband and wife, happy forever.” And then I knew how to put things together. My mother and Carolyn had exchanged vows, under a full moon, either inside or outside the car, near the water and the pines, by a side road where no cars disturbed them. My mother had told me she always liked necking better than sex and had declared that no one gave better back rubs than Carolyn, so exquisite that she threatened to cut off her fingers and keep them after she died, no matter how grotesque that sounded. Part of it may have been hero-worship, a fan’s adoration, a schoolgirl crush, but she was smitten—both of them were. 

Thinking about this privileged moment, this peak of intimacy, this private, secret, do-it-yourself wedding in the woods by the water, I imagined a motion-picture camera pulling back discreetly from the Chevy and slowly panning down the road between pines and cornfields, surging toward the creek and the Choptank River in the distance, settling on the rippling full moon on the water, accompanied by the sound of clanking bell- buoys, the slosh of waves, the low buzz of a johnboat trolling in the dark, a gull or a mallard ruffling its feathers and taking flight. And then, from the car, the sound of “Whither Thou Goest,” a hit song by Les Paul and Mary Ford, would emerge from the radio, with Carolyn singing along, the lyrics quoting from the Bible: “Whither thou goest, I will go.” My mother, the former Sunday School teacher, surely knew the passage from the Book of Ruth: 

Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following
1111111111after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and
1111111111where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall
1111111111be my people, and thy God my God:
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried:
1111111111the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but
1111111111death part thee and me.

Before I actually read that lovely book from the Old Testament, I came upon “Ruth and Naomi,” a poem by Edward Field in Stand Up, Friend, with Me, the first poetry collection I was ever given, in which he describes how “Ruth and Naomi, lip to vaginal lip, / Proclaimed their love throughout the land.” Of course, I didn’t see any personal connection until much later, after I had started writing my own poems, had read more poetry, and had learned more about my mother and Carolyn, especially how to empathize with the predicament they faced every day: hiding and denying their intimate relationship, a love that deserved celebration, not concealment. 

Among my mother’s loose papers, the phrase “Whither Thou Goest” appears repeatedly, without explanation. But the words were a pledge, a promise that wherever one of them went, the other would follow, and despite the social pressure against their union and the combustible nature of their personalities, they would honor that contract which no one had witnessed, my mother not abandoning Carolyn in her final illness but tending to her needs, more devoted than any cousin could be, and ultimately following her to the grave plot they shared, with their names on opposite sides of the granite marker, taking her place next to Carolyn’s parents, forsaking her own family and declaring her love in the most permanent way she could. I’m pretty sure that Carolyn sang the words of the popular song and that my mother, her most devoted fan, responded both to the seductive music and the soothing religion it encapsulated. And the romantic, moonlit night by the woods and the water was an essential part of that makeshift, spontaneous, what-the-hell ceremony that bound them so tightly together. They were giving all for love. 

Carolyn’s green diary also contained a note for my mother that she had composed in shaky script on a small sheet of paper. It served as a bookmarker for the page that celebrated their marriage to each other. It may have been the last thing she was able to write: 

My darling I love you
ybeyond all measure
yThere is no separation
yAll I know is
yI love you more
ythan I ever could
ybelieve. It is a love
ythat knows no end
yLove me
yLove me endlessly
yI will wait
1111111111Your Carrie 

During one of the last nights she spent in her own apartment before entering the Western Hills nursing home, my mother was surprised when I seized that binder of notes about her life and said I was taking it home for safe keeping. I was afraid she would destroy those personal reminders, which included several references to “Buck Bryan Road” and “Whither Thou Goest,” those fragments toward an autobiography she could never manage to begin, just as she had destroyed the trove of Carolyn’s correspondence. She objected a little but then relented. She knew I was planning to write about her. “I just worry,” she said, “that we started too late, and I won’t be able to tell you all my stories, all my secrets.” But the point wasn’t to be encyclopedic. 

“That’s okay,” I told her. “We have enough.” 

⧫

John Philip Drury, a native of Cambridge, Maryland, is now professor emeritus at the University of Cincinnati. He is the author of five books of poetry, most recently Sea Level Rising (Able Muse Press, 2015) and The Teller’s Cage: Poems and Imaginary Movies (Able Muse Press, January 2024).  “Full Moon on the Water” is the last chapter in “Bobby and Carolyn: A Memoir of My Two Mothers,” which will be published by Finishing Line Press in August 2024. 

Delmarva Review selects the most compelling new nonfiction, poetry, and short stories from thousands of submissions annually. Publishing from St. Michaels, Maryland, the literary journal has featured new writing from more than 500 authors worldwide since its first issue fifteen years ago. Forty-one percent are from the Chesapeake-Delmarva region. It is available worldwide in paperback and digital editions from Amazon.com and other booksellers. Support comes from tax-deductible contributions and a grant from Talbot Arts with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. Website: www.DelmarvaReview.org

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Delmarva Review, Top Story

Rematch: At What Cost? By Al Sikes

September 8, 2023 by Al Sikes

Adaptation works best when change is incremental and occurs at a slow to moderate pace. Alternatively, change can overwhelm and frighten. And when we are frightened about our jobs or inflation or our social values we are not at our best. 

Fright and maybe panic can take us where on reflection we wish we had not gone. Drug abuse, for example, has always been around but now predators can prey on our fright, our destabilization. A staggering number of people looking for escape find it in opioids and too many, terminally, in fentanyl. 

So let me move on because citing social pathologies simply eats up words and your time. When it seems like we are in a descending cycle government seems more important, even if we understand a good society results from widespread self-discipline and personal generosity. 

Debates come and go, today’s debate about what our government should or shouldn’t do to aid Ukraine is illustrative. The critics will say, “if we spent those dollars at home we would solve, well, whatever. Really? Since when have either of our political parties worried about borrowing more money to do, whatever? The real message is cynicism. 

As we track cynicism look at today’s political polling, it essentially has President Biden and former President Trump in a virtual tie. The tactics of cynical politics are winning. This is especially true when the polls also show over 2/3rds of the electorate do not want a rematch. According to Real Clear Politics average of all polls Biden’s unfavorability rating is 54.9% and Trump’s is 56.9%. Elections of renewal turn on favor, not disfavor.

A long time ago at the insistence of my mother I typed: “Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country”. It still nags me.  It was originally used to test typewriter performance and capability. So let me comment, as President Biden would say “here is the deal”.

I am not, as readers of my column know, a Donald Trump fan. But let me theorize. The first assault alleging Trump criminality originated in New York by the Manhattan District Attorney forging in Trumps’s unseemly relationship with Stormy Daniels. It would be correct to say that this conduct had been prosecuted in his run for the presidency in 2016.

Additionally, Trump supporters perceive Biden’s hand in the federal indictments while covering for his son. Is it possible that Hunter Biden was skillful and disciplined enough to earn millions without his father’s help?

While dealing with perceptions, I suspect most Trump supporters want a rematch. It brings to mind Muhammad Ali rematches. When Ali was at his best a rematch was warranted and he won. But today? Biden? Trump? And as we face those dramatic societal changes that have turned many worlds upside down do we want octogenarians dealing with the tensions between the common good and the technological good? 

On a number of different levels, it is fanciful to regard Biden as a man of the future. Indeed, it seems passing strange to me that his political party’s leaders would think otherwise. 

We can all anticipate the campaign ads if a rematch occurs. Trump will double down on MAGA with an insistence that he is a Savior while bleating incendiary captions about Biden and Vice President Harris. The horrific Afghanistan pull-out will be the visuals. On the other side Biden too will double down on MAGA; extreme will be the beginning and end as Trump’s mug shot becomes iconic.

In 1981 Ali was 39 years old when he fought Trevor Berbick. He lost in a unanimous decision. As the much beloved Ali lit the Olympic torch in 1996 Bob Costas from NBC Sports said: “Once the most dynamic figure in sports and now trapped by a mask created by Parkinson syndrome.” What will our collective mask be? How will our foreign friends and enemies view us?

So let me end by turning away from the tactics of cynicism to more hopeful ones. Predictably political professionals have sprayed toxic liquid on an organization called No Labels. As I type, it is taking advantage of political malpractice and preparing for a convention in April, 2024. Its mission is to choose candidates who will appeal to the 70% who don’t want a rematch. If political malpractice ends, No Labels goes away.

Predictably again, the crystal ball gazers say it can’t win. Maybe they are right and maybe it will hurt Biden more than Trump. Yet, overall many Americans want to be hopeful and need someplace to place their hope. 

 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Top Story, Al

Bushy Tailed Troublemakers by Angela Rieck

September 7, 2023 by Angela Rieck

The carefree life of summer is fading and it is time to get to work. Children return to school; animal babies leave their nest, those “to do’s” that we put off in summer are coming to roost, our landscape is giving up and preparing for the winter, and it is time for squirrels to make their presence known.

Squirrels are more active now; the lazy days of summer have given way to a working autumn. The trees are dropping their nuts and squirrels are feasting on them, caching them, and messing with us. Of our local wildlife, squirrels seem to be the most playful and most amused by us humans.

They appear to enjoy our attempts to keep them from bird feeders. Over the years, my husband and I tried all methods of squirrel proof feeders, even employing a battery operated one that acts as a “tilt-o-whirl” when squirrels land on top of them.

We finally realized that we were really just creating a squirrel gymnastics center; and chose to enjoy the show. The squirrels dazzled us with their feats of athletic and mental brilliance. Watching them climb up a greased pole was hysterical. They would take turns until one of them was able to absorb all of the oil and the others found a way to stick their claws into the metal. Squirrel baffles were overcome by jumping from tree branches above, sticking their nails into them and leaning over to get the treats. “Squirrel-proof” feeders that would close when too much weight was on them, would be attacked from above. While squirrels rested, birds got as much food as possible before squirrels returned to the feeders.

Squirrels are also amusing to watch in nature. My neighbor swore that they deliberately pelted him with nuts while he was mowing the lawn. I see them dropping nuts onto the pavement, running down and gathering the exposed meat. Humans help them by stepping on the nuts, so our walkways are now covered with broken shells.

Do squirrels play? Naturalists believe that they do and that their play behavior falls into two categories: solitary play, where an animal will run, climb, jump, twist, tumble and play fight with objects; and social play such as tag or mock fights. Watching them play tag around a tree trunk and race up and down a tree looks like fun, but naturalists believe that these games are a form of play fighting over territory. A squirrel territory can be between 1-25 acres; but except for mating season, they typically overlap peacefully.

My older dog, Annie, who has cataracts and diminished hearing, likes to sit sphinxlike in the grass and watch them play. She silently watches their staccato fluid movements as they search for nuts or sunflower seeds. We call it “Annie TV.” My other dog, Gus, still likes to try to chase squirrels, but he is no match for their speed, their zig-zag pattern, or the plethora of trees in my yard.

In addition to be exceptionally active, squirrels are very busy chattering away these days. They seem to be arguing with each other about which nut belongs to whom. But they are especially talkative to Gus. After dashing up a tree to avoid being caught, they will come down the trunk at a level where he can’t reach them and taunt him “you missed me, you missed me.” To him, it is all in good fun, he and walks away knowing that he is outmaneuvered.

Squirrels have a strong sense of smell. Their sense of smell is so evolved that they can find a cached nut under a foot of snow. Despite this, it is estimated they lose up to 25% of their stored nuts to forgetfulness and animal thievery. Which explains why they dig up all of my planters every week (mistaking my flowers for a newly planted cache) and each year I have an abundance of tree seedlings.

Squirrels also possess sharp hearing, exceptional eyesight, and a good spatial memory (to remember where they stored their nuts). Squirrels are also very intelligent. In Chongqing, China, squirrels have been trained to sniff out illicit drugs. It is not surprising that they are one of the most resilient species in all habitable regions.

They are very busy these days preparing for winter, stuffing their faces with our abundant nuts and caching others. Scientists believe that squirrels organize their nuts more carefully than many of us organize our own food. They appear to organize their nut stash by quality, variety, and possibly even preference. Squirrels “chunk” their nuts and bury different types of nuts in different places depending on the size and quality. They also pretend to bury nuts to throw off potential thieves.

Squirrels in North America used to migrate, the last great squirrel migration of hundreds of thousands of squirrels was recorded in 1968 in Wisconsin. It is believed that since then, this mass migration behavior has gone extinct. After all, with the addition of humans, there is plenty of year round food. Unlike many forest creatures, gray squirrels have successfully adapted to suburban life. They take advantage of our large growth nut trees, our planters (for storage), our birdfeeders, and our fall decorations (pumpkins, corn).

As I was researching squirrels for this article, I discovered that the Eastern Shore has its our own squirrel species, the Delmarva fox squirrel. It resides deep in the forest and, except for its larger size (up to 3 pounds), it looks a lot like a common gray squirrel with a slightly fluffier tail. Unlike its cousin, the Delmarva fox squirrel spends most of its time on the ground, instead of trees. Delmarva fox squirrels live in grown forests near freshwater, and in small woodlands next to crops. Its largest concentrations can be found in Talbot, Kent, Queen Annes, and Dorchester counties, with the most in the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge. These squirrels has recovered so well from habitat loss that they were taken off the endangered species list in 2015.

So, when you hear the ratcheting, screeching, clicking, or even squealing sounds along with the sound of nuts falling onto the ground, look for our resilient little acrobatic, fluffy-tailed rodents long-jumping along the tree limbs. We even have one of his cousins named after our area. Pretty impressive for a fun loving, little rodent.

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.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Angela, Archives, Top Story

Should We Worry About Democracy? By J.E. Dean 

September 6, 2023 by J.E. Dean

What does the rest of the world think of American democracy in 2023? Sadly, we are viewed as past our prime. Canadian friends ask how it was possible that Donald Trump was elected president, why our current 80-year-old president is running for re-election, and why “crazy people” sit in the U.S. Congress. A German friend told me Marjorie Taylor Green is better known there than Chuck Schumer and compared Ron DeSantis to Hitler.  

My response to questions and comments on American democracy is to remind people that democracy is messy. I say great presidents can be followed by mediocre ones, and we will have great presidents again. I also remind people that challenging times can ruin a presidency and that “failed presidencies” are not always evidence of democracy not working. The Vietnam War, for example, ruined the presidency of Lyndon Johnson, and inflation arguably ruined the presidency of Jimmy Carter. 

Presidents are not responsible for everything, good or bad, that happens during their time in the White House. The reelection of Trump in 2020, for example, would not have stopped Russia’s invasion of Ukraine any more than it would have stopped last year’s hurricane Ian. President Biden did not end the COVID epidemic or start the electric car revolution. 

People’s opinions of who was a good president or a bad one will differ. We should, however, wonder if more people voting would lead to electing better political leaders. In Australia, voting is mandatory. You can go to jail for not voting. If we had a similar law in the U.S., would we get another Abraham Lincoln, FDR, or George Washington?  

I believe that the quality of voters—how democracy is practiced—can make a difference. “Educated” voters are not only more likely to support higher quality candidates for office, but they are also likely to address much of the dysfunction of today’s American democracy. 

What is that dysfunction? I found one answer in an unexpected place. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs comments: “Over the years, democracy in the US has become alienated and degenerated, and it has increasingly deviated from the essence of democracy and its original design. Problems like money politics, identity politics, wrangling between political parties, political polarization, social division, racial tension, and wealth gap have become more acute. All this has weakened the functioning of democracy in the US.” 

Given China’s authoritarian government and the effective dictatorship of Xi Jinping, it is easy to dismiss any opinion of China about America. As I read the comment, however, parts of its assessment resonated. (Other parts did not.) 

An “educated” voter has the wherewithal to rise above identity politics, slick political ads paid for by billionaires, blatant appeals to racism, greed, xenophobia, and lies. Educated voters try to address issues, not passions, and seek objective sources of information (not Facebook or what used to be called Twitter). Educated voters seek to understand views different than their own and practice civility. They do not think anime of Nancy Pelosi getting shot is funny or draw pictures of Donald Trump in prison garb. 

Educated voters are guided by a core set of beliefs that are essential to a functional democracy. These beliefs include all people being created equal, the right of all citizens to vote, the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, and equal justice under law. Educated voters judge candidates with these values in mind. 

So, is American democracy on the way out? Is further” alienation and degeneration” of American democracy inevitable? I do not think so. If Americans strengthened their citizenship skills, the odds of addressing issues that the Chinese Foreign Ministry and others raise would improve. The cure to what ails American democracy, thus, is to improve our practice of it. Better informed citizens are more likely to want to work together—use our democratic institutions—to address issues that challenge America today.  

Dare I say it, with a little work, the best days of American democracy may be yet to come. 

J.E. Dean is a retired attorney and public affairs consultant writing on politics, government, and other subjects. 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Top Story, J.E. Dean

Out and About (Sort of): Part of Us by Howard Freedlander

September 5, 2023 by Howard Freedlander

When you live in one place for 44 years, as my wife and I did in Easton, you cross paths with many people. You retain emotional contact with them. Then reality sets in.

Two weeks ago, on a brief visit to our still treasured home, we ran into a friend and asked about her husband. He had died, we were told. We knew nothing.

That disturbing revelation drove me to learn about others who had died during our nearly three years in Annapolis. I studied with dread the website for Helfenbein, Fellows and Newnam Funeral Home.

Though not a close personal friend, Tom Fountain, an estate and wills attorney, was someone whom I considered a friend and gentleman of the first order. He was our lawyer, too. He was eminently likable, well respected by his legal peers and clients. A U.S. Navy veteran, Tom approached the practice of law as public service, as I viewed his manner and expertise.

Adrienne Rudge was another first-rate person, one of three daughters of a well-known Easton attorney, Charlie Wheeler. An active board member of Talbot Hospice and Critchlow Adkins Children’s Centers, she seemed preternaturally friendly and engaging. Her presence was always soothing. People gravitated to Adrienne because of her authentic personal warmth.

Stacie (Anastasia) Wrightson was a lovable character, always affable and talkative. I liked her from the moment I first met her. She had graduated from Oldfields School in northern Baltimore County and sat on its board. Since my daughter Kate also was an Oldfields alumna, Stacie and I had much to talk about. She was straight-forward and gently blunt. At the end of each conversation with her, I marveled at her energy and liveliness.

My path crossed frequently over the years with Mike Newnam, a longtime funeral homeowner and civic leader. Mike had a presence, abetted by his height, voice and bearing, the latter developed by his Marine Corps service. He sponsored me for the Elks. He sold us a lovely house adjacent to the funeral home at the corner of Harrison Street and Brookletts Avenue. He buried my in-laws in Baltimore. He was a notable usher at Christ Church, Easton. He conducted himself in a stalwart, professional manner.

We live with fond memories of friends who enhanced our quality of life in the unmatched town of Easton. Some of our encounters were longer and more substantive than others. Still, they all had an impact. They meant something. They still do.

I mourn the deaths of Tom Fountain, Adrienne Rudge, Stacie Wrightson and Mike Newnam. I had no chance to express my sympathy to their loved ones. I suppose this column provides a platform to voice my condolences.

A memorable quotation from Thornton Wilder’s poignant “Our Town” is fitting for this column:

“We all know that something is eternal. And it ain’t houses, and it ain’t names, and it ain’t earth, and it ain’t even the stars…everybody knows in their bones that something is eternal, and that something has something to do with human beings. All the greatest people have been telling us that a thousand years and yet you’d be surprised how people are always losing hold of it. There’s something way deep down that’s eternal about every human being.”

Easton is a better place because of these four special people.

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. After 44 years in Easton, Howard and his wife, Liz, moved in November 2020 to Annapolis, where they live with Toby, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel who has no regal bearing, just a mellow, enticing disposition.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Top Story, Howard

Happy Birthday! By Jamie Kirkpatrick

September 5, 2023 by Jamie Kirkpatrick

It just so happens that yesterday was my birthday. When you’re little, birthdays are all about cakes and candles, parties, presents and friends. But when you’re older, or just old (75 years old, to be exact), birthdays are for taking stock, for remembering, for saying you’re sorry and for giving thanks. They’re bittersweet. You look over your shoulder at all the milestones you’ve passed; you wonder how many more you’ll touch as you walk by. The cake doesn’t much matter anymore; it’s just empty calories.

Retrospection doesn’t come easily to me; I tend to be a creature of the moment. But in the wee hours of the morning when I’m lying awake, I find myself looking back at the people and the places who have made an impression on my life. There are both regrets and gratitudes, paths I’m glad I took, and intersections where I made a wrong turn. But yet, here I am, alive and still kicking, surrounded by good friends and caring family members who wished me well yesterday and meant it.

I’m a lucky man. I have a loving wife. I have found a wonderful place to live. I have meaningful work. My health is reasonably good. No one can foretell the future, but when I look ahead, the skies are, for the most part, clear, and I will make the best of the days I have remaining.

I’m currently reading James A. Michener’s tome on Afghanistan, “Caravans.” It’s one of his typical epics, but it has taken me back to a place and time that were unique in my own experience. I was working on the staff of the Peace Corps, and had been assigned temporary duty for a few weeks in Afghanistan. It was in January of either 1975 or 1976—I’m fuzzy on that detail—but I remember the biting cold, the deep snow on the streets of Kabul, the towering peaks of the Hindu Kush, and the singsong cries of the snow shovelers. One day, another staff member and I had to go to Jalalabad, a city near the border of Pakistan, which was some four rough-road hours from Kabul. On the way, we stopped to let the engine of our vehicle cool, and I wandered up a nearby hill to survey the landscape. At the summit, there wasn’t much to see, but I was suddenly overcome with a feeling that I was as far away from everyone I loved and everything I knew as I could be, and that if I took just one step in any direction, I would either fall off the edge of the earth or be one step closer to home. I was at the end of my tether.

Maybe that’s how I’m feeling today, off on another hilltop, surveying the terrain below wondering what lies ahead. The difference, of course, is that I’m not in Afghanistan. I’m where I belong and tonight, I’ll sleep safe and warm in my own bed.

There’s just one other thing to add: this week, I’m returning to the school where I worked for twenty-two years to serve for one semester in an interim capacity while the school conducts a national search to fill an unexpected vacancy. Much in the landscape of my former profession (college counseling) and on the actual campus of the school (Landon) has changed in the eight intervening years, and I’m both excited and a little nervous at this opportunity. But then I remember coming down from that hilltop in Afghanistan and continuing on with my journey. There was so much more that lay ahead, one step at a time.

And, in the familiar words of that old song, “I think to myself, what a wonderful world!”

I’ll be right back.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer who lives in Chestertown. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, the Philadelphia Inquirer, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the Washington College Alumni Magazine, and American Cowboy Magazine. His new novel “This Salted Soil,” a new children’s book, “The Ballad of Poochie McVay,” and two collections of essays (“Musing Right Along” and “I’ll Be Right Back”), are available on Amazon. Jamie’s website is Musingjamie.net.

 

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Top Story, Jamie

Now is the Time to Hit the Pause Button on Presidential Impeachments by David Reel

September 4, 2023 by David Reel

There is ongoing widespread speculation on whether President Biden will be impeached, how many articles of impeachment may be filed in the U.S. House of Representatives, if or when the House Judiciary Committee and the full House may approve any articles of impeachment; and if or when the U.S. Senate may hold an impeachment trial and vote on any House articles of impeachment.

While these questions are interesting, they are not the most important.

The most important is: Will any Biden articles of impeachment that may be approved by the House muster the two thirds vote in the Senate (currently sixty-seven votes) necessary to convict him?

The answer is no. The reasons are simple.

Impeachment is less a judicial process and is more a political process.

Constitutional scholar Erwin Chemerinsky says “The framers of the Constitution knew that ultimately this would be a political process. And so, none of us should be shocked or upset that it’s a political process today.”

Currently no political party has a two thirds majority in the U.S. Senate. There are 48 Democratic Senators, 49 Republican Senators, 3 independent Senators, 2 of whom are members of the Democratic Caucus and 1 of whom is a member of the Democratic Caucus for committee assignments.

This close partisan split in the Senate is expected to be the norm for the foreseeable future so any future Senate votes to convict an impeached president will need a bipartisan coalition to reach the two thirds majority threshold.

Compounding that political math, Article II, Section 4 of the U.S Constitution says, “The President, Vice President, and all civil Officers of the United States, shall be removed from office on Impeachment for, and conviction of, treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors.” The constitution does not define “other high crimes and misdemeanors.” The U.S. Supreme Court has never defined “other high crimes and misdemeanors.” Even constitutional scholars disagree on a definition for “other high crimes and misdemeanors.”

Former longtime member of Congress, former vice president and former President Gerald Ford once said, “An impeachable offense is whatever a majority of the House of Representatives considers it to be at a given moment in history.”

At no given moment in history has the Senate voted to convict a president based on the offenses included in House impeachment articles.

That was the case when the Senate did not convict Andrew Johnson on 11 House impeachment articles in 1868; did not convict Bill Clinton on 2 House impeachment articles in 1999; and did not convict Donald Trump on 2 House impeachment articles in 2020 and another 1 in 2021.

Some maintain Richard Nixon would have been the first president to be convicted by the Senate based on House impeachment articles. We will never know as Nixon resigned from the presidency before the House approved articles of impeachment and before a Senate trial could be held.

If Joe Biden is impeached in the House (a big if), the result of a Senate trial will very likely be acquittal just as it was with A. Johnson, Clinton, and Trump.

Going forward Americans need and deserve the following actions from every member of Congress, especially those in leadership positions.

A commitment to hit the pause button on all future presidential impeachments unless there is bipartisan consensus on them being more a judicial process and less a political process focused on blatantly advancing  a political agenda.

A commitment to focus their full attention to working together in addressing the many challenges facing America.

David Reel is a public affairs/public relations consultant who serves as a trusted advisor on strategy, advocacy, and media matters who resides in Easton.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: David, Top Story

September by Kate Emory General

September 4, 2023 by Kate Emery General

The emotional Supermoon on August 30, hit my family one by one, like a ton of bricks. I spent the three days days leading up to the Full Moon questioning every choice that I had recently made in my life. Despite being prepared for the power of this Full Moon, I literally cried for three days. I had read that the effects of the Supermoon would be felt four days before and after. Everyday, I awoke ready to greet the new day and by the afternoon, I felt as if I’d been put through the wringer, I had heightened emotions and vivid dreams. Getting outside barefooted, riding my bike, and my moon vine blooming were my saving grace.

Friday morning a cherub corbel of my mother’s suddenly fell off the wall. Obviously, the spirits were trying to tell me something, the corbel has been on the wall for ten years. It was one of my Mom’s favorite pieces of art. Religious artifacts falling off walls are thought to be the harbinger of doom, luckily, cherubs as protectors are associated with divine beings and are thought to be intermediaries between heaven and earth. I feel very protected and peaceful after the less than subtle Full Moon wake up call. I kissed my cherub, smudged my house, picked some flowers from my garden, and lit some candles. So long Supermoon!

I’m looking forward to September’s cosmic skies as they slowly begin to clear, ensuring that we’ll have the ability to fully enjoy the final shimmers of summer.

The Sun as the center of the solar system has long been worshipped in different cultures for its life giving properties. Without the Sun’s intense energy and heat, there wouldn’t be life on earth. The Sun represents consciousness and light within us which sparks vitality and energy. The Sun boosts the power of any planet that orbits close by. The Sun can also symbolically be seen as a powerful authority figure in an astrology chart. Mercury as the closest planet to the Sun is said to be the messenger and helps us receive and translate information from the Sun.

Changes are in the horizon for September and the first of the major astrological events is a Cazimi. In astrological terms, a Cazimi occurs when a planet whose center is within 17 minutes of the arc of the center of the Sun. When referring to a Cazimi, astrologers speak of a planet being in the heart of the sun. When the planet Mercury is mid-way through its retrograde it meets the Sun in this way. In the heart of every Mercury Retrograde we are gifted with this one day to be really open to insight and wisdom.

When Mercury is in “cazimi”, it’s a day in astrology that is wonderful for nourishing our wisdom body and bringing a moment of clarity or helpful realization. Mark you calendar for September 6, the day of Mercury Cazimi, observe how your mind may feel brighter and your communication more coherent. Reflecting on how each Cazimi may have given your life a unique boost can help you harness its energy next time it rolls around. If your zodiac sign is Gemini or Virgo, you are the most affected by this September Cazimi.

To make the most of the energy of a Cazimi; take time for meditation and journaling, paying attention to the ideas, themes, or intuitions that land on this day. It’s also a great day to write about your dreams and visualize your goals.

Taking the Moon into account, there is a lunar Cazimi monthly, at the moments just before and after the New Moon, when the Moon lines up directly with the Sun.

One day after the New Moon on September 14, Mercury Retrograde will officially come to an end (September 15). Jupiter retrograde starts on September 4. Jupiter is the planet of good luck and fortune, so unlike some other planets, its retrograde effects won’t be too chaotic. Instead, this marks a time to explore your relationship to money and abundance.

The first three weeks of September comprise the bulk of Virgo season, which generally puts people into a more practical, productive, and health-conscious state of mind. Virgo zodiac energy is grounded and attentive, so the last stretch of summer can be well-utilized for getting organized and tidying up any messy areas of your life.

We may have to kiss summer goodbye, but all sorts of cosmic happenings lie ahead and we survived the Supermoon!

Kate Emery General is a retired chef/restaurant owner that was born and raised in Casper, Wyoming. Kate loves her grandchildren, knitting and watercolor painting. Kate and her husband, Matt are longtime residents of Cambridge’s West End where they enjoy swimming and bicycling.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Top Story

Delmarva Review: Moving Out by Susan Okie

September 2, 2023 by Delmarva Review

Author’s Note: “Moving Out” recalls watching my son pack his bags to move to a distant state. It felt momentous and, at the same time, made me appreciate his deep attachment to home and family. I expected to face a cleanup job once he drove away. Instead, he startled me with a flash of maturity. Writing this poem made me remember Robert Frost’s advice for poets: “No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.”

Moving Out

a clingy baby, slow to settle, never one
to let go, he became a keeper of shells,
stones, clay-modeled frogs, chessmen,

a piler-up of dusty stuffed animals,
sleepless and sad for weeks that time
when some disappeared in a move,

his room still hung with old posters,
corners curling—Jimi Hendrix,
Green Lantern, Chaplin’s little tramp—

while into his car, he stuffs hiking boots,
skis, favorite pants, violin in its case,
then, from the doorway, looks back

at the mongrel piles on the floor—
I don’t want to leave you with this mess—
and returns to toss out tie-dyed shirts

from Quaker camp, drop diaries
and love letters into a box, and gather
me a caulk bouquet, six tubes

securely planted in a paint bucket,
caulk enough to patch all our cracks

Susan Okie is a doctor, poet, and former Washington Post medical reporter. She received her MFA in Poetry from Warren Wilson College in 2014. Her first poetry collection, Woman at the Crossing, will be published in October by Grid Books. Her chapbook, Let You Fly, was published in 2019. She teaches patient-interviewing and clinical ethics to medical students at Georgetown University and to volunteers at a safety-net clinic for uninsured adults. Susan lives in Bethesda, Maryland. Website: www.susanokie.com

Delmarva Review publishes the most compelling new poetry, fiction, and nonfiction from thousands of submissions annually. Based in St. Michaels, Maryland, the literary journal has featured the new writing of more than 500 authors since its first edition fifteen years ago. Over forty percent are from the Chesapeake-Delmarva region. The journal is available in print and digital editions from Amazon.com and other booksellers. Support comes from tax-deductible contributions and a grant from Talbot Arts with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. Website: www.DelmarvaReview.org

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Delmarva Review, Top Story

Chesapeake Lens: Deale Morning by Jimmy Heller

September 2, 2023 by Chesapeake Lens

On a soft summer morning, the world is your oyster. “Deale Morning” by Jimmy Heller.

The Spy Newspapers may periodically employ the assistance of artificial intelligence (AI) to enhance the clarity and accuracy of our content.

Filed Under: Chesapeake Lens, Top Story

« Previous Page
Next Page »

Copyright © 2023

Affiliated News

  • The Chestertown Spy
  • The Talbot Spy

Sections

  • Arts
  • Culture
  • Ecosystem
  • Education
  • Mid-Shore Health
  • Culture and Local Life
  • Shore Recovery
  • Spy Senior Nation

Spy Community Media

  • Subscribe
  • Contact Us
  • Advertising & Underwriting

Copyright © 2023 · Spy Community Media Child Theme on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in