Showing posts with label Kingfield Maine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kingfield Maine. Show all posts

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Having a Village

Trantens' Too, Kingfield, Maine
On Tuesday my truck died in the parking lot of Tranten’s Too. I was on my way to work. I stopped to get a newspaper, a sausage biscuit and a Diet Mt. Dew (‘diet’ to offset the sausage, you see…) and when I came back outside and hopped into the truck, it wouldn’t start.


Just like that.

Vince was presiding over the Porch Crowd.

“Sounds like the fuel pump,” he proclaimed.

That’s what it sounded like to me, too

It takes the better part of a village to get a truck repaired when you live in Lexington and work in Kingfield. I called the Credit Union and Amy zipped down to pick me up and haul me the last half-mile to work since my skirt and heels weren’t conducive to hoofing it along the gravel ditches of Rt. 27. Once there, I called Poulin’s Garage, and Rick immediately drove up to town. After briefly playing with my truck, he called to tell me that he thought it was the fuel pump.
My Dodge...210,000 miles and every one of them is mine!
I was inclined to agree.

Rick said he couldn’t tackle my truck repairs immediately and that he understood if I took the Dodge elsewhere. What a guy! What a family! I called Hight’s Dodge dealership in Skowhegan to see what they could do for me. They said they couldn’t repair it for a day or two, either… but they COULD give me a loaner car to get me to and from work. That clinched the deal.

I called another Poulin man for his rescue services. Chris told me he’d send someone down from The Mountain as soon as possible with a tow truck to take my pick-up to Hight’s. My truck was in good hands.

Now, to get myself situated!

I tried to call my folks to bum a ride to Lexington after work that afternoon, but they weren’t home. I’m a fortunate woman, however. Like small-town folks all across Maine—I have a Village. Amy offered to take me to my mother-in-law’s house in New Portland—halfway home--and mother-in-law Celia said she would be happy to take me the rest of the way to The F.A.R.M.

That afternoon Mike, Hight’s service manager, called me.

“We think it’s your fuel pump, Ma’am,” said Mike, who has called me “Ma’am” every single time we’ve spoken over the course of the last 6 years. Whether we’re comparing notes about butchering hogs, discussing our teenagers’ driving habits, or hashing over the price of fuel pumps, Mike calls me “Ma’am”. I can’t talk him out of it.

“It’s your fuel pump, Ma’am…”

I tended to lean toward the same conclusion. I asked the polite young whippersnapper to order the part, to put the truck on his repair schedule and to please leave a loaner available for me.

When my mother finally returned home and listened to the message I’d left on her answering machine, she called me. She agreed to pick me up at seven a.m. the following morning and transport me to Skowhegan so I could pick up that loaner car…so that I could get to work on time…so that I could earn the money to pay for the fuel pump, and the repairs, and the towing.

The loaner car was a Chevy. It was gold. A sedan from 2004 with 4 doors…and electric everything.

I’ve never done the “electric everything” bit.

The first characteristic to strike me was the fact that the car’s under-carriage clearance was in the neighborhood of six inches. Maybe seven. That’s the depth of a small rut on the Back Road…and a wrinkle on the Spruce Pond Road. This could get interesting.

I unlocked the driver’s side door and lowered myself into the rig. The key Mike had given me fit into the ignition…but it wouldn’t turn. Nope. Not at all. Until I finally inserted it upside down, there was no starting that gold-colored car.

Once I got it started, I fiddled with the bells and whistles. I wanted to know where the wiper controls were, the front and rear defrosts, the headlights. The vehicle even had “cruise control”. Later, as I tried out that option, I managed to toot the horn a half-dozen times in a half-mile while having no control whatsoever of my cruise.…)

At last, I felt comfortable enough in the strange automobile to drive it from Skowhegan to Kingfield. It wasn’t until I was at the top of “Dump Hill” that I realized the loaner was running on fumes…and wishes…and a prayer or two, as well. I coasted to Tranten’s Too and parked in front of the store once more. I would have gone directly to the pumps, but I’d looked out each side mirror for an indication of which side the fill-up spout was on—and hadn’t seen it. So I figured I’d take a gander from the outside.

But I couldn’t get ‘outside’. Little did I realize… the car Mike had fobbed off on me was a Chevy reincarnation of “Christine”, that haunted and possessed Plymouth made famous by Stephen King.

Even with the key removed from the ignition, the radio continued to play. Seriously… the key was OUT. The car was OFF. There was no juice to the radio, but it played. And… the door wouldn’t open.

I pulled on the handle—and the whole lever mechanism threatened to fall out of the door. It would not open. At all. I was stuck.

I experimented. I played with the locks. I locked the doors. Unlocked them. It appeared that the passenger door might open, but that would mean I’d have to crawl over the console. In a skirt. In front of Tranten’s Too… one of the busiest and most populated little locations in downtown Kingfield.

I tried the window controls. I could open the drivers’ side window from the driver’s side controls—but I could only open the passenger side window from the passenger side door. It wouldn’t close from the same controls, though. The passenger-side window could only be closed from the controls on the driver’s side door. Would it be more acceptable (or graceful) for me to climb out of a car window (meaning I’d have to climb back in that same way) or over a console?

I didn’t have to make that crucial decision. By pressing the lever which locked ALL FOUR of the car’s doors, I could open mine! And by taking the key with me, I could unlock it from the outside to get back in, too.

I made it to work in the demon Chevy, and I made it home again. I learned how to placate the car so it wouldn’t lock me in while torturing me with endless Taylor Swift music. Mike eventually called me from the garage and told me “It was the fuel pump, Ma’am.”

Just like I’d figured.

From the breakdown of my pick-up to its picking up, a dozen people helped me. From Vince, with his sage words of wisdom, to the Trantens Too crew for letting me leave the truck parked in a prime spot for half a day. From Rick Poulin, who jumped to my assistance and then was such a gentleman when I didn’t hire him to do the repairs, to Chris Poulin and crew for promptly delivering my truck to the garage in Skowtown. Amy, Celia and Mum carted me here and there. Mike and the Hight’s crew did a great job with the repairs and loaned me the (evil) car free of charge, and Bobby Baker re-attached the rear-view mirror for me when I opened the truck door and found it lying on the front seat.

Yep, I’m lucky to have a Village, because that’s what it took to get my truck repaired.

That, and $640.00.

Plus the cost of towing.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

A Couple of Quickies....


Tom the Turbinator is hard at work, choosing the winner of the "Name that MADGE" contest. We await with baited breath for the results!


What does that mean, anyway? "Baited breath"? A baited hook has a worm or a grub on it. Not sure that's what my breath is like. Not even sure what a worm smells like. Hmmm...

Anyway, my point was, we're anxious to know who the winner will be of tickets to the benefit comedy and music event being held at Nostalgia Tavern in Kingfield next Saturday, December 4th. Seven p.m. So... come on, Mr. Turbinator. Let's hear what the Judge's Choice is! (And thanks for doing this for me, sweetheart. You're the best!)

While the main purpose of this event is to raise money for the Friends of the Highland Mountains, it also serves another purpose. The evening will give us the opportunity to relax and have fun with each other and our guests. As stressful as it's been to fight mountaintop industrial wind in Maine, we could use a break.

So please consider joining us next Saturday night as I stand before a crowd and... do whatever it is that I do. No one has quite figured out exactly what that is, but I've heard phrases like "crash and burn", "bomb, BIG TIME" and "take a nose dive off the stage" used as points of reference.

Ugh.

One more thing: I'd like to provide you with a link to the blog for the Citizens Task Force on Wind Power, where a dear friend of mine has posted some photos and captioned them with his Thanksgiving thoughts. Please feel free to take a look and a quick read. And if you have any interest in supporting those of us who are fighting Big Wind in Maine, joining the site is quick and easy. Please consider doing just that. There is no expense involved, but there IS strength in numbers!

Thanks.
Kaz

Monday, November 30, 2009

Venting on Wind

NOTE: This blog entry is a work in progress. As I become educated on the pros and cons of wind development, I may add, change or delete some portions. This is an opinion piece, and I invite readers to add their two cents worth and make their voices heard. Above all, I desire information...verifiable data that is pertinent to this issue. If we have the truth, we Mainers can make intelligent and conscientious decisions regarding our heritage, our environment, and our quality of life.



I’ve spent the last few days having fun on GAG. I’ve written of dwarves being accidentally swallowed by hippos, of doing a stand-up comedy routine on the heels of strippers…I even ambushed my friend Jack on DUD and wrote of testicles getting caught between slats in a chair. These were all enjoyable topics.

Well…they were a blast for me to WRITE! I’m a bit of an idiot, that way. I hope they were also entertaining to read.

But I have a serious side. In addition to being a writer, I am also an American…a Mainer who is a concerned citizen. I’m a country girl and I enjoy a simple life, but sometimes a woman has to step outside her comfort zone and get involved in issues that have importance and impact, whether she likes such a role, or not.

I live in a small township in western Maine. I am a native of this great state, and I love these hills, these forests and these people with a passion. I am a conscientious woman, too, I believe. I take care to cherish this earth…to make my impact on her as minimal as possible. I suppose some people would call me green.

Wind power is coming—HAS COME—to Maine. Mars Hill, Vinalhaven, Freedom. Three communities that have already begun to experience the effects of huge wind turbines pulsing in their back yards. And now, to my dismay, Independence Wind is exploring the possibility of developing a large swath of pristine mountaintop range in my own neighborhood. Right next door, in the tiny village of Highland Plantation.

Before I proceed, I would like to state a fact. I am NOT against wind power. I am absolutely in favor of harnessing the power provided by sun, wind, water and the thermal energy available underneath our feet. I crave independence from foreign oil, and I would love to see us end the tapping of underground oil reservoirs and the burning of fossil fuels. These are the facts.

I like to think that I am a responsible citizen. A conscientious human being. I believe I am ‘green’. I also understand that many people will roll their eyes as they read that. That they will say, ‘Yeah, sure! Karen wants environmentally friendly power--as long as it is not in her own back yard!’

Of course, many people will feel that way…will think that of me! Of course they will! They will believe that I am only green when it suits me. When it doesn’t directly impact ME.

I know this. In all honesty, I’ve had those same thoughts about other folks in the past.

That being said, it comes down to this. I am not convinced that the erection of gigantic wind turbines on our remote mountaintops is a ‘green’ solution to our current energy crises. I am beginning to believe that the development of offshore wind farms will have the least detrimental impact on our economy and our environment. But I am a babe in the woods. My education is just beginning. In only the past few weeks have I begun to research this fairly new phenomenon that has come—and is coming rapidly and in exponential proportions—to the Pine Tree State.

There are several very important issues that concern, even disturb me. As with every relatively new resource, there is much we don’t know. First and foremost, I worry about the health issues. Many studies are being conducted into the new phenomenon called ‘Wind Turbine Syndrome’. The data collected thus far is chilling, and I urge you to read the words of an expert by clicking on that link I’ve provided. I’ve tried to make it easy to do, so please…take a moment and read the opinions of professionals who are ‘in the know’.

And if you won’t believe the expertise of someone ‘from away’, I also have access to the written testimony of some real Mainers who are living in the shadow of these great windmills. Ethan Hall and Cheryl Lindgren are residents of Vinalhaven, one of the island jewels that sparkle off our wild Atlantic coast. These two people have been adversely affected, and to a great degree, by the turbines that have just recently come on-line on their island home. I am stunned by the immediate and severe consequences these two residents have suffered as inhabitants in the fall-out zone of turbine noise and blade pulse. I think anyone who reads their heart-felt and desperate letters will agree. I will enthusiastically make these letters available to anyone who would like to contact me at roomtomove@tds.net. I would humbly ask that you be interested enough to do so, whether you live in my neighborhood, or not. Mr. Hall’s and Ms. Lindgren’s experiences are chilling, alarming, distressing. But I implore you to read their words, yourselves, and make up your own minds.

Another issue that causes me great concern is the actual impact such a development will have on the earth that surrounds us…our mountains, our trees, and those animals and lesser plants that flourish (or more importantly, those that struggle to survive) in these western woods. Former governor Angus King and his partner, Rob Gardiner have informed us that more than twenty miles of new road will be cut through our pristine woodlands. They’ve outlined how the crowns of several unique mountains will be blasted away and leveled in order to build the foundations or ‘bases’ that will support windmills which exceed four hundred feet in height. They’ve stated that year-round roads will be maintained—plowed, sanded, perhaps even salted or layered with calcium chloride—to allow access to the turbines, no matter what the season.



And yet, I heard not one word--not one FACT, that is—about how such monumental changes to topography and environment will influence our wildlife. There is no way in the world we can tell—not yet, anyway—how such an intrusion into the wilds of Highland Plantation will affect the native animals. I am certainly no expert. Far, far from it! But I can easily see how a wild creature’s mating habits and cycles could be changed due to a sudden intrusion of activity; a constant, unceasing noise; and the vibrations caused by mammoth blades thrumming through the air and causing pulse waves to buffet all that are within their path. I can imagine hibernation patterns changing. Hunting and eating instincts going awry. I can even picture our woodland creatures becoming less timid and more aggressive as they are subjected to such a colossal change in their natural setting. Living beings were not designed to withstand constant noise and unnatural vibrations.

As I’ve said, I’m no expert, no biologist. But I know animals intimately, and I have instincts of my own. In my humble opinion, there is no way the wildlife in our forests can escape unscathed from such a rapid and large-scale intrusion into their ecosystem.

There are so many, many more and diverse issues that must be researched before a large-scale development (and we’re talking upwards of fifty wind turbine towers!) can even be considered. Many questions and concerns come to mind.

What will the advent of a wind farm do to the value of the real estate in its proximity? If residents dislike—or can’t stand—living near the mills, will they be able to sell their homes at a profit, allowing them to move away? Will they even be able to recoup the original cost of their property, or would the value have plummeted so much that they must sell at a loss, or stay--and be miserable?

** December 1, 2009: After attempting for several days to contact fellow real estate agents in Mars Hill, a town that has hosted a wind turbine development for approximately two years, I finally spoke with two, earlier today. According to one owner of a real estate agency in Mars Hill, the development has not seemed to negatively affect property values. In fact, this agent cited several new homes built in the last year within close proximity to the towers. He also said that buyers considering the region have often REQUESTED property that had views of the windmills. To his knowledge, none of the Mars Hill residents who live within the corridor with the most noise pollution have placed their homes on the market. Until that happens, there will be no sales data to compare to...and that is the only way to honestly and realistically judge market value. Thus far, the advent of the twenty turbines has not seemed to adversely affect sales in the region. It is important to note, however, that the Mars Hill project is 'in town'--in an already-developed area--and the one proposed in Highland will be in a wilderness region. It may be years before we know the true impact of such a development on property values.

Will tourism still flourish once our wilderness is no longer unspoiled? As the paper industry moves abroad, as the wood-turning mills close and the shoe shops fold and the woolen mills and shirt factories go under, tourism is Maine’s last hope. Millions are drawn to our rugged terrain, to our fresh air and our unpolluted rivers, lakes and streams. Will this multitude of nature-lovers and seekers of peace still choose to visit our neck of the woods, if its spine is corrupted by industrial steel and concrete, and by unnatural sound and pulsation?

And then, there is the cost. Not the cost to health, or environment or peace of mind. Not the psychological expense of having to view the unsightly where once there was naught but beauty. I’m alluding to actual cost. Governor King and Mr. Gardiner admitted that currently--right now--it is cheaper to use natural gas than it is to harness the wind. Admitted that until generating power from the wind becomes less expensive, there won’t be a good market for the energy it produces. And yet, they wish to hurry their plan through, to put it before LURC. Just in case. For a time when it WILL BE an economically sound undertaking. By then, all roadblocks will have been removed.

As ‘pro-environment’ as these business partners and friends profess to be (and I believe they ARE, don’t get me wrong)…but as ‘green’ as these esteemed gentlemen are, they are not interested in proceeding with a plan that is economically unsound, even if it might be—MIGHT BE—better for the environment and the earth as a whole. Not if it can't turn a healthy profit.

That says something. To me, that says something very significant.

I have a copy of the expedited law passed by the legislature…the law that—basically—removes all vital restrictions to the development of wind farms in unorganized territories. In all honesty, I haven’t finished reading it yet. It was so disturbing that I had to take a break.

That our legislators—those men and women who are supposed to be representing US, and who are supposed to be stewards of this great state—both its land and its inhabitants—that they passed such a law without debate, without discussion, and without giving we, THE PEOPLE, advance warning or a chance to educate ourselves about it and make our will known, is appalling. Unconscionable. It makes me mad enough to chew nails, and causes me to want to fire the whole lot of them. How dare they? How dare they?

That’s the crux of the matter, to my way of thinking. We--the residents, the citizens, the voters and the tax-payers--have become non-entities. Our opinions, our wishes and our will have become unimportant to those with power. To those with money and influence. Our ‘one vote’? Not even asked for. Certainly, not wanted.

I also have a copy of a letter that Mr. Rob Gardiner wrote expressing his opinions--and even more importantly, his DIRECTIVES—regarding the drafting of the expedited law to facilitate wind energy in Maine. It was stunning to see how each desire this developer expressed, each stipulation he required, was incorporated into that expedited law. I’ll say it again: I am no expert. But I’ll eat my hat if it doesn’t appear that a developer—someone standing to make millions of dollars on wind farm development and expansion—designed that law which runs roughshod over the citizens and the environment of Maine. Oh, there are some safeguards in the law...but those protections appear to only affect any state or federally owned and/or managed lands and trails. There is nothing I've found, yet, that addresses protecting lands personally owned, or the rights of private citizens. Instead, there are the words 'tangible benefits'. As if we, the people, can be brought in line by vague promises of greatly reduced taxes or free electricity. As if we can be that easily bought.

I will also make Mr. Gardiner's letter available to any citizen concerned enough to request it. All you have to do is ask. Also, for those interested, here is the link to the Governor's Task Force on Wind. The more informed we become, the better equipped we will be to make the tough decisions that lie ahead. With rights come responsibilities, and educating ourselves is part of the process. I hope these links will answer some of your questions, for I am surely not able to. Not yet.



It comes down to this. We are Americans, and we are Mainers. We have rights. As well, we have charges! It is up to us, as intelligent and concerned individuals, to care for our planet and for each other. I love my neighbors in Highland Plantation. I honestly and truly empathize with their terrible financial tax burdens. I understand desperation, worry and fear. I completely comprehend a person’s need to take care of ‘home’ first, before concerning himself with the needs of a community at large, or an environment that seems, at times, to be vast and indestructible. But it is in times like these that my fellow Mainers show their stuff, display their true colors, and join together to help each other. That we use our Yankee ingenuity to form a plan to carefully and conscientiously address the problems facing us--be they financial, environmental, or civic. Above all, we hardy folk know when to say, ‘Enough is enough!’ We know when someone is running roughshod over us. We know our rights.

And friends, one of those rights, those freedoms? It is the right to say, ‘No!’ We have a duty to say, ‘Hold on! Wait just a second! We haven’t given this tremendous issue the time, care and attention that such a life-changing and landscape-altering development requires. We say NO! Until the average Joe Mainer has the opportunity to educate himself on this complex issue, and until each voter is allowed to make a collective decision, we exercise our RIGHT to say NO!’

Please, people…please. Stand up. Straighten your shoulders and brush yourselves off. And remember this! Please.

We have the right to say ‘No!’ The Governor, the Legislature...they work for US. For you and me. Not for developers, not for special interest groups, not for the lobbyists of corporations and not for the wealthy. They work for you and me. The little people with the big responsibilities.

And we have the right to tell them 'No!'

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The above commentary consists of the thoughts and opinions of Karen Bessey Pease, and should not be attributed to any other entity or organization. I invite any reader with a differing (or like-minded) opinion to comment. This is America, and we all have a right to express our opinions. Too, I am an open-minded individual, and would welcome the expertise and input of those professionals who are involved in the development of wind turbine power, or its effects on the land and inhabitants of this planet we call 'home'.

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To read a perspective piece on FOREIGN wind turbine manufacturing and OUR stimulus dollars, please read my comment below, dated 12/05/2009

Also, if you are interested in obtaining information on sound issues with wind turbines, please click this link. We owe it to this earth and to ourselves to become educated on these aspects of 'wind' if we expect to be able to make sound and responsible decisions.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

And The Winner Is...


Bronson! An entry from Mr. Grahame Kent Dowling of Mudgee, NSW, Australia! We'll have an Aussie Newfie! (Will that mean he's a mutt? A mixed breed? Oh, they are the best kind!)

Thank you to everyone who entered the contest. My favorite name, I have to admit, was 'Bumble', submitted by a young Mr. Reid from Kingfield, Maine. I'd actually already thought of that name, so it was a nice surprise and coincidence when he submitted it. I think I'll send the fellow an autogrpahed copy of Grumble Bluff, just because! (Because they're mine, and I want to!)

To be fair to all the contestants, I wrote each name on a small piece of paper, turned them upside down and scattered them across my desk. I shut my eyes, licked my finger...and chose the name on the scrap that stuck to it. (Sorry, too much information? These details are vital in assuring you that the winner was chosen fairly. I don't part with spit for just any old reason!)

So! Grahame gets a Grumble, and his choice of Bronson will forever live on in a Grumble Bluff sequel. Thanks to all!

And remember...the paperback version will be out soon, and will sell for just $10.95! Tell all your friends.

The picture above is of my Newfoundland, Tender Titans' Giant Jordan, my oldest son Guy, and me, taken in 1992. What a dog. What a boy. What a good dog for a very good boy!