Archive for the 'Cotuit' Category

Nov 29 2014

Sucker for an aerial photo

Published by under Cape Cod,Cotuit

Cousin Tom from Maine was in Cotuit for Thanksgiving and brought over his quadcopter drone for a demo flight on Friday afternoon. After some calibration and set-up he lifted it off the ground and drove it around the neighborhood, using the onboard camera and a Nexus 7″ tablet to provide some thrills.  Here’s a shot of the Chatfield compound in the center of the village with the all-but-boatless harbor in the background, the barrier island of Dead Neck.Sampson’s and Nantucket Sound beyond (double-click the picture for a full view).

wpid-cotuitair.jpgHe has the DJI Phantom 2 drone with GPS and a first-person view camera mounted on under-belly gimbals  It’s good to an altitude of 5,000 feet and a range of 3/4 of a mile. The tablet view works best if you stand in the shade. This is his second rig in as many months, the first suffering a “sudden loss of altitude” and a splashdown in Damariscotta Bay. At $1,000 and change, that is an expensive rowboat anchor, and having myself once turned a huge radio-controlled, gas-powered Piper Cub with a seven-foot wingspan into an expensive lawn dart thanks to not remembering to fully extend the controller’s radio antenna, I know the anguish and expense of airborne disaster.

I want one. I really want one. Yet I also realize it would turn me into that guy: the paste-eating weenie freaking out the neighbors with his eye-in-the-sky. While an aerial movie of a Cotuit Skiff race would be very cool, I think the fun would wear off after the sixth flight or first disaster. Cousin Tom is a realtor, so he gets some benefits in displaying the houses he’s listing.

Here’s a shot of the Cotuit Kettleers’ home field, Lowell Park, taken by Tom on Thanksgiving with the leaves all blown down by the recent rain storms. All those woods from right field to the lower left corner of the picture are for sale and the Barnstable Land Trust needs to raise $560,000 in the next four weeks to save them from the invasion of the Starter Castles. Dig deep people. I’m going to give twice (and don’t forget to throw some $$$ at the Cotuit Athletic Association to keep the Kettleers and Lowell Park the best they can be.

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Nov 24 2014

Sean Kelly

Published by under Cotuit

I learned last week from my friend Elizabeth Gould that the “Voice of Cotuit,” Sean Kelly, has passed away. I met Sean in June of this year (2014) at the Cotuit Library after I gave a talk on Colonial Barnstable as part of the town’s 375th birthday celebration. Sean sat right in front and afterwards complimented me with an awesome baritone voice right out of radio. I had no idea about his career as a broadcast journalist, but a few weeks later heard the voice again when I watched the Barnstable Land Trust’s video about the campaign to save the woods around Lowell Park, the baseball field of the Cotuit Kettleers. Sean narrated that piece by Maryjo Wheatley, giving it an impact that only a great narrator can.

From his memoir, this biography:

“Sean Kelly covered rebel conflicts in Africa, civil wars in Indochina, peace talks in the Middle East and the downfall of the President of the United States in Washington.He was ambushed in Zimbabwe and death-listed in El Salvador. But not all of his career was spent chasing chaos. He also went to the Seychelles Islands to report on the first flight of the Space Shuttle and to South Africa for the presidential campaign and election of Nelson Mandela.

Between deadlines, there was time for humor, compassion, good food and wine, even romance along the way.

Born and raised in California, Kelly reported for the Voice of America, the Associated Press and several other new organizations during a forty-year professional career in journalism. He worked in print, radio and television. His books include “Access Denied: the Politics of Press Censorship’, and “America’s Tyrant: the CIA and Mobutu of Zaire”.

He and his wife Helen Picard divide the year between Cape Cod, Massachusetts, and Cape Town, South Africa.”

Here’s the Cotuit video which Sean narrated for the Barnstable Land Trust:

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Nov 02 2014

Dead Neck Dredging Update: ConCom approves reduced plan

Published by under Cape Cod,Cotuit

The long standing proposal to cut off the western tip of Sampson’s Island and pipe the sand east to the Osterville end of the barrier beach moved forward last week (Oct. 30, 2014), when the Barnstable Conservation Commission approved the revised application by the owners of the island, Massachusetts Audubon and Three Bays Preservation. The approved plan reduces the amount of dredging from the original request to shave off 800 feet (or 233,000 cubic yards) from the Cotuit end of the spit, in half to 400 feet and 133,600 feet.

Lindsay Counsell, the executive director of Three Bays told the Cape Cod Times the reduction means another permit will need to be filed in six years in order to keep up with the constant drift of sand from the eastern, Wianno Cut end to the Cotuit end. The point of Sampson’s has changed dramatically in recent years, with shoaling reducing the width of the channel and forming a “bulb” on the Nantucket Sound side of the spit, revealing an interesting bank of clay-like material. Public opinion has been mixed — according to the Times article, the ConCom received an equal number of letters and statements for and against the proposal.

I’ve been for the plan from the beginning based on the historical configuration of the beach, the fact it was last cut back in the late 60s, and that the “natural” evolution of the spit is in fact man-made due to the decision to break Dead Neck in the early 1900s with the Wianno Cut — the breakwaters effectively blocking the natural littoral drift of the sand and forcing, a hundred years later, dredging to restore some semblance of equilibrium. A breach of Dead Neck would imperil navigation through the Seapuit River; the spoils will build up the beach and create more nesting habitat for piping plovers and terns; and widening the Cotuit entrance will dissuade fools from swimming the channel, ease navigation, and slightly improve tidal flushing.

I empathize with those who love to sit on the point of the island in the summer months, but trust they will still find a sandy stretch on the cut back island. I disagree with the environmental argument that this is messing with mother nature — historical charts indicate a far different configuration before man-made interference and man-made steps are required to get the place back to some semblance of its natural state. This is private property, a long standing bird refuge for endangered species, and not a public beach. The caretakers are within their rights to expect regulations will be followed.

I have no idea if this is the final step in the long process or even when if ever the dredge will arrive and begin work.

Cape Cod Times Article

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Sep 21 2014

Paul Noonan has passed away

Published by under Cotuit

My dear friend Paul Noonan passed away at home in Cotuit yesterday, Sept. 20. As the arrangements for his memorial come together I’ll share them here, along with my memories of the man. My condolences to his brother and sisters and his many friends.

Paul noonan

Like most people I googled his name and found this fitting tribute to Paul in a cruising guide to the New England Coast. This was doubtlessly back in early 90s when he was driving the red jeep with the “Friends Don’t Let Friends Vote Republican” bumper sticker, clam rakes hanging out the sides because he was off to perform A Blessing of the Rakes in Waquoit Bay for his pal Chiefy. That was just before he totaled my Volkswagen Fox at the corner of School and Main — essentially Cotuit’s Time Square — when the “brakes went beserk.”

Rest in peace you old salt.

 

By Paul Fenn and W. Wallace Fenn in A Cruising Guide to New England Including the Hudson River

By Paul Fenn and W. Wallace Fenn in A Cruising Guide to New England Including the Hudson River

 

Tom Burgess’ Eulogy

I’m indebted to Marylou Noonan, Sally Noonan Ratchford, Janie Hayden Uyenoyama, Sally Hinkle, Alex Lowell, and David Churbuck for help in composing the obituary that formed the basis of this Eulogy to which I have added what Paul might have termed the “juicy bits.’

Tom Burgess     

 Paul David Noonan, 71

             We are gathered here today to celebrate the life and to mourn the passing of a colorful Cape Cod character, Paul David Noonan.  Both locals and tourists knew him as the eccentric and witty man behind the counter at the Cotuit Grocery during the 1990’s and later as the erudite advisor to those looking for old and interesting volumes at the Parnassus Bookstore in Yarmouthport, where he worked from 2001 to 2013.  But perhaps a majority of us are here to say a final thank you to Paul because we owe him a debt of gratitude for some act of charity, gesture of support or bit of wise counseling that he offered us over the past half century.

He was born on January 19, 1943 in Marblehead, Mass. and was the son of Paul J. Noonan and Bernice (Lucey) Noonan, whom he cheerfully called Bernice “Banshee” for her continual and fruitless attempts to make him toe the line during a boozy and conflicted adolescence.  He grew up in Marblehead and later in West Bridgewater, Mass., where he attended public schools.  His family summered in Cotuit, and Cape Cod eventually became both his spiritual and physical home.  I first met Paul at the Loop Beach when I was 13 or 14 and Paul occupied a permanent position at Janie Hayden’s, the Lifeguard’s, feet from dawn to dusk.  He seldom if ever went in the water and seldom if ever stopped talking. A few sunny afternoons listening to him converse on the beach with the late Ray Smith was the equivalent of a course in liberal politics and theology 101.   His predilection for dressing totally in black in his period of his teens attracted the bemused interest of our parents and foretold his life long interest in the clergy.  He attended Tabor Academy and graduated from Cape Cod Preparatory School in Santuit, Mass. in 1962.

Paul started his career with books with the Harvard University Libraries where he worked first at Lamont Library and later at the Fogg Museum Library from 1964 to 1978.  Here began his interest in local history.

Born and raised a Catholic, Paul was from the first a both a reformer and a deeply spiritual person, who looked both inside and outside the church for inspiration and fulfillment.   While in Cambridge, he began working with needy, addicted, and homeless as a lay volunteer under the auspices of the Episcopalian Cowley Fathers, driven in part by his own work as a recovering alcoholic, which began in 1967, and then in the late 70’s as a member of the monastic community of Oblates of the Incarnate Word, where he donned the black monastic robe for which he had been modeling for the years of his youth.   Paul’s decision to become sober was for him rather like Saint Paul’s conversion on the road to Damascus.  It coalesced his energies outside of himself and impelled him to think of others, while he maintained a complete resistance to attempts to reform or change him by friends and family.

He entered the Order of the Most Holy Trinity following his departure from Cambridge.  While in Baltimore, Maryland as a novitiate, he became deeply interested in the history of Afro-Americans in the tidewater area and later throughout the country.  This became one of several life long passions.  However, he found the tenets of the Catholic Church too confining and left the Order in 1979.

He returned to Cape Cod and settled in Provincetown, working off and on as a fisherman and attending St Mary’s of the Harbor, Episcopal Church. From his late teens he had been unabashed about his sexuality often declaring that he was “as gay as the Christmas goose.”  Of course, he settled happily in Provincetown, where he once exulted to us that “even my laundryman is gay.”  But Paul’s sexuality was very much subordinate to his thirst for social justice for all.  He administered to the needy, recovering alcoholics and those suffering the then scourge of AIDS while going about his day to day life, which was punctuated with more than occasional fireworks of political activism.  He served as Town Clerk of Provincetown for several years until he chose to depart to reside with his elderly father.  This characterized his life from then on, in which the political was often public whereas the charitable was personal and often private.

Upon his return to Cotuit, he worked for the Barnstable County Registry of Deeds, where the work appealed to his interest in local history.  It is rumored that this employment terminated when he attempted to unionize the employees – a testament to his equal desires to be a force of social justice and a very annoying gadfly to those in charge.

Soon after his return to the mid-Cape, he joined the Society of Friends, and eventually became Clerk of the Sandwich meeting.  In this capacity he was instrumental in enlarging the meeting and opening the meetinghouse for year round worship.  He became an authority on the early history of the Quakers on Cape Cod and lectured on this topic frequently.  This proved to be perhaps the happiest time in his search for spiritual fulfillment as the patience and pacifism of the Quakers cooled the flames of 60’s radicalism and brought Paul to new methods of helping others.

During his sojourn in Provincetown, Paul had made close friends with some members of the Wampanoag Tribe.  Upon returning to Cotuit, he became a vigorous ally of the tribe in the quest to achieve recognition of tribal status from the Federal Government.  From this time onward, he counted many of the Wampanoag elders and their kin as close and dear friends, which is why we are here in this Meeting House today.  In his office of clerk of the Sandwich Quaker Meeting, he spearheaded a joining of hands between the Cape Cod Friends and the Mashpee Wampanoag Tribe. For his numerous works on their behalf, he was the first non-native-American to be awarded the Lew Gerwitz Spirit Award by the tribe. Until a month or so ago, he regularly visited elderly companions of his in the tribe to offer them his friendship, companionship and solace.

Paul’s reputation as a character was fueled by his acerbic wit and twinkly-eyed cynicism. When he left the Registry of Deeds, he worked first at the Kettle-Ho Restaurant in Cotuit and later as the regular holding down the cash register at the Cotuit Grocery.  Here and later at the Parnassus he found a secular pulpit and a continually changing congregation.  His love of banter and repartee earned him special mention in the Cruising Guide to the New England Coast.  If I may quote: “In behind the Town Dock is the Cotuit Grocery, with a colorful employee named Paul Noonan in residence.  The Grocery carries a nice selection of liquors and food and does deliver. Mr. Noonan, if you run into him, won’t service fiberglass boats or Republicans.  So don’t call if it bothers you to be scrutinized for your choices.  […] Take your chances with Mr. Noonan. It’s worth it.”

Many of the younger generation did take their chances and learned gradually that “What can I get you, you wretched little child?” was a term of jesting endearment from a softhearted curmudgeon.  A life-long Democrat, he particularly enjoyed sending up members of the opposite party when they were across the counter.  When a local Republican gentleman opened the grocery door one day and asked if his dog could enter the store, Paul replied that the dog was welcome but he had the gravest doubts about the possibility of entry for the dog’s master.  Age seemed to bring about even a grudging camaraderie to this combat, and only last week he was chatting to my Republican brother – deemed “the archfiend” by Paul.  My brother, of course, always knew Paul as “The Shining Path.”

During late 80’s and early 90’s, Paul continued his work informally with the needy and deprived and formally as an elected representative to the Barnstable Town Meeting and later as Town Councilor for Precinct 7, the village of Cotuit, in the years 1991 and 1992.   He engaged himself continually with village and town organizations.

Beginning in 2001, as the indefatigable “clerk” of the Parnassus Bookstore, Paul returned to the books he loved.  He was an excellent salesman and a learned commentator who earned mention in the Cape Cod Times and local guidebooks: “Visitors were happy just to wander through the stacks in search of whatever, perhaps hoping for some banter with the store’s idiosyncratic employee, Paul Noonan. Clearly a frustrated comedian in search of an audience, Paul’s quick one-liners and snappy retorts are equally as fun as finding a dusty tome among the chaos.”

A decade ago, Paul left the Sandwich Quaker Meeting during a period of dissension and turned back to the Episcopalian Church, attending St. Barnabas in Falmouth and St John’s in Sandwich. A great believer in the power of prayer, he lately sought and gained admission to a contemplative prayer order.  I believe he saw himself in many ways as a latter day mendicant monk.

He continued his interest in Afro-American History and was called upon by the local chapter of the NAACP to research topics on their behalf.  This led him to establish a relationship with the Sisters of the Holy Family in New Orleans, with whom he corresponded frequently and to whom he was devoted.  In the past year, he donated his collection of books on Afro-American History to the Zion Union Heritage Museum in Hyannis.

Paul was also devoted to his longtime housemate, Gary Gifford, a commercial shell fisherman in Cotuit, who died in 2010, with whom Paul worked from time to time.  This relationship inspired Paul to revive the “blessing of the shell fishing fleet” in the Three Bays and to lobby hard for the interests of shell fishermen in the town of Barnstable.

There are a lot of us here who particularly remember Paul as the foremost unofficial representative of the Lord God on Cape God, for whom Paul often donned the very black robe that hung in his closet and married, buried and baptized those who counted him as a friend, an advisor and a counselor and their offspring.  I know of this first hand as Paul married our daughter, and buried my son and my son-in-law within the space of three months.  I remember very little of those black days except that Paul’s reassurance somehow led me to believe that neither I nor the world had gone mad.

A very sound appreciation of Paul in the late ‘90’s was lately given to me by Christina Kelley.

“Paul Noonan revels in his self-inflicted image of rebel and non-conformist.  A true radical, he always finds some injustice to lash at.  Mellower now (the once-brown beard is white) than some years ago, his has become a more gentle radicalism.  Don’t expect to find Paul tossing rocks that might hurt people at the barricades.  His criticism is more of ideologies and collective actions, less of individual people.  He will allege and skewer the abuse of police power, then say he finds it an honor to live in the same village as an Officer […].  He has an abiding passion for social justice, but he exercises it within the group of most patient and tolerant people, the Quakers.  He embraced their teaching after years in the church of those of his ancestors who were Irish.  And, yes indeed, as Brother Paul David during part of the 1970s, he wore a friar’s black robe with a blue cord or cincture, a member of the monastic community of Oblates of the Incarnate Word, in Cambridge.”

“You can say -­ and this is a compliment – ­ that for the 32 years of his uninterrupted sobriety, Paul Noonan has been drunk on life. It exhilarates, turns him on. His laughter rings in large rooms. A Well-flavored Life.”

It is said de mortuis nil nisi bonum, that one should not speak ill of the dead, but no one is entirely without failings – and I would have to say that, when pressed or lectured by well meaning friends and family on matters of his own health, his finances, and lately his eclectic mode of attire, Paul developed what I might term a tangential relationship with the truth. This often created stormy relationships particularly with us miss-guided well-wishers.  And, he treated his “motorcars” abominably.

Lately, He suffered more and more as time went on from bouts of anxiety, depression and even agoraphobia – perhaps as he intimated his own demise.  That said, we all remember that he did draw his sword enter the battle with alcoholism from which he emerged victorious.   Now, we mourn that late in life he lacked the energy and strength to do the same against tobacco with the lamentable result that we are here today far earlier than we should have been.

In sum, all of us here took a chance on Mr. Noonan and it was worth it.  It is his manifold virtues have brought us here, and we all seek to emulate them.  We can be firm in our knowledge that Paul’s virtues in the scales of life far, far outweighed his failings, and we can be confident that in the final judgment he has been deemed a valiant Christian Soldier, who, like the Saints who so nobly fought of old, has finally won his cross of gold.

God rest Paul David Noonan.  Amen.

 Friday, September 26, 2014

Thomas Knight Burgess

 

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Aug 12 2014

The Kettleers of 2014

Published by under Baseball,Cape Cod,Cotuit

Cotuit’s baseball season came to an end last night as Falmouth took the second of the three-game Western Division championship with a blow-out 17 hit, 10 to 2 victory at Lowell Park.

I missed the game but as I drove into the village around 7:45 pm I passed the remnants of it and saw  a Kettleer walking down Lowell Avenue onto Main Street in his untucked uniform, his host family surrounding him, escorting him home f or the evening after a season of highs and lows, two bats sticking up in the air from his backpack on his shoulders, the wooden bats the Cape league is known for.

I didn’t catch a lot of games this year due to a variety of excuses, but I did catch a wonderful come-from-behind performance against Bourne over the weekend. Cotuit was down 5-0 and the air was out of the home fans’ tires, when the Kettleers rallied in magnificent fashion to tie the 3 game series at one apiece. It was the perfect game, vintage Mike Roberts baseball, all the more memorable because my friend Jim D. turned to me at one point when Cotuit had runners at first and third and said to me: “Watch the runner at first get into a run-down so the runner at third can steal home.”

Five seconds later exactly that occurred, chaos ensued, and the fact that Cape Cod baseball is far more entertaining than pro ball was underscored.

Congratulations and thanks to the Kettleers for another great season.

Just a few more months to find the cash to save the woods behind the ball field. At the Bourne  game the Barnstable Land Trust ran some yellow tape across the area of the outfield that would be lost if the land isn’t preserved. Essentially the park would become unplayable as a big slice of outfield from the flagpole to the visiting bull pen would be lost.

Here’s Barnstable Land Trust’s Casey Dannhauser throwing the first pitch at the last Bourne game of the season.

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Aug 10 2014

Happy 375th Barnstable

Published by under Cotuit,General

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Jul 18 2014

Keep Lowell Park Green

Published by under Baseball,Cotuit,General

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Nice job by Maryjo Wheatley on this video for the Barnstable Land Trust’s efforts to save the land around Lowell Park, home field of the Cotuit Kettleers. I was happy to sit and talk with her but didn’t expect, well, you’ll see… Maryjo is an amazing videographer, she worked for WGBH, the legendary PBS operation in Boston, and was in communications at the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute back in my Forbes days. She helped me get a story about the very earliest GPS digital charting technologies back in 1993. Her husband, Capt. Bob Boden is a distant cousin and long-time friend. The three of us sometimes catch the Kettleers together — but this has not been the most baseball-ish summer for me. Too much client work is keeping me locked to my desk, then add in house guests, bad weather….there’s still time.

Anyway. back to the cause at the center of the video. The Barnstable Land Trust has until the end of the year to come up with the money to complete the purchase of the 19-acres of woodlands that surround Lowell Park to the north and the east. At risk is a key part of Cotuit’s open space. For the team, what’s at risk is a really nice “batter’s eye” in terms of an uninterrupted backdrop behind the pitcher so the batters can pick up the ball hurling towards them at 90+ mph.

The BLT is conducting their annual fundraising, auction, to-do on Ropes Field this Sunday afternoon from 3:30 to 7 pm

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Jun 12 2014

If the Kettleers had a mascot….

Published by under Baseball,Cape Cod,Cotuit

Opening day in Cotuit today but I went to Hyannis last night for the season opener against the Hyannis Harborhawks and witnessed the unveiling of their new mascot, a person in a bird suit.  The mascot’s name is “Ossie”  as in Osprey. Hyannis has an identity crisis. They used to be the “Mets” but then the Cape Cod Baseball League’s teams who were borrowing the names of major league teams had to stop because of trademark and licensing stuff. So the Mets became the Harborhawks, a nod to the ospreys that next on top of the light poles around the field. They kept the uniform colors of the Amazing New York Mets but the name was changed.

The real birds were there last night, making their screechy osprey peep sounds from their nest on top of the light pole behind the visitor’s bleachers. Ossie was introduced to the crowd. This made me ask the guy next to me on the bleachers why they weren’t called the “Hyannis Ospreys” in the first place.

The Hyannis Harborhawks are guilty of the same name confusion as Cape Cod Academy which has adopted the “Sea Hawk” as its mascot. There are no such things as Harbor Hawks and Sea Hawks.  Yes, “sea hawk” is blessed as a possible synonym for osprey by Wikipedia, but the Britannica Killer also says it can refer to the skua. Then there is the Sea Eagle — a synonym for that classic crossword puzzle three-letter word: “Ern” — but no Harbor Hawk exists except in Hyannis.

Personally, I’d embrace the Osprey and be done with it. Ospreys are cool. Ospreys are survivors.  And the frigging new mascot is running around calling itself “Ossie”. Besides they named a really expensive controversial but bad ass helicopter-plane after the species:

I think Hyannis is at the vanguard of a dangerous trend in Cape Cod Baseball:  more mascots. I won’t speculate what Wareham would come up with, since they are the Gatemen (maybe a security guard would work).  Chatham (the original “quaint little drinking village with a fishing problem”) has the Mariners — so some guy stuffed into some waders with an 11-foot long surfcasting rod could be easily pressed into service and cast t-shirts into the bleachers in between innings. Brewster has the Whitecaps. Tough one there.I guess a custom costume that looked like a Big Wave, give the thing a Supersoaker, have it blast kids. Blow off a tsunami warning horn after every home run?

But Cotuit…. We have a kettle to thank for our name. The kettle that Myles Standish used to “pay” the Wampanoags for the land that became Cotuit, which with a garden hoe thrown in to sweeten the deal, gives us the name of the local tavern, The Kettle-Ho (which lost in the early rounds of the recent Real Cape dive bar contest).

The Kettle-Ho’s mascot is a mermaid (arguably a “ho” herself as the bar’s motto is “Not the ‘Ho You Used to Know”) ,  holding a hoe and cuddling a black kettle with her tail.  The sign hangs just a few doors down from the offices of my insurance broker, Mycock Insurance (the Cape Cod Baseball League’s championship trophy is named after longtime Cotuit Kettleer manager, Arnold Mycock).

Other than the baseball team and the bar, the kettle thing doesn’t have a lot of legs in the village. But, if Cotuit were to get a mascot, what would we get? They pass plastic kettles around the stands to raise some cash every game. And I’ve seen a fan show up with a brass kettle and bang on it like a Swiss ski fan ringing more cowbell on the slopes of the Matterhorn, I guess it would have to be somebody running around in a kettle specific version of the Kool-Aid Man.

My neighbor at last night’s game agreed with the Kool-Aid guy idea, but suggested there would also need to be a “hoe” which of course led to inappropriate speculation about how a “hoe” would be represented in a costume.

Any way, Cotuit lost last night, 3-2 and stranded something like a dozen baserunners, keeping us on our toes with the bases loaded in the ninth. But alas. It was not to be for the 2013 Cape Cod champions. Today at 5 they open at home against Hyannis, game two of the Patriot Cup. Without a mascot but with nice new home stands.

 

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Jun 11 2014

Wild Kingdom of Kotuit

Published by under Cotuit,General

5 am today, sitting down and reading the “paper” on my tablet, the birds waking up and hitting the feeders under the grape arbor and making their usual racket when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see an explosion of birds scattering in all directions and a grey blur go whistling past the window.

This was the local grey fox who lives somewhere in the woods between me and the harbor on the hunt for a squirrel. Grey foxes used to be the most common fox on the East Coast (they range all over the country from Canada to Mexico, Cape Cod to the Channel Islands off of Santa Monica) but now the more familiar red fox is the one you see around the garbage cans at the beaches the most. They are like little dogs, in fact they are one of the most primitive of the canids, about the size of a skinny beagle with a sort of mongrelish, mini-coyote look to them. Definitely not the more stylish and regal look of the red fox.

The birds fled the scene but the squirrel who had been hanging upside down on the peanut feeder decided to hide in the grape leaves. Because the house sort of envelops the arbor on three sides in an alcove, the escape route is one way across the yard where they can either cross the open grass and duck into the bushes, or cut right towards Main Street, or left towards the back gardens and the chicken coop. This squirrel decided to wait things out on top of the arbor.

The fox circled the arbor for a few minutes. Freezing from time to time whenever the squirrel rustled the leaves and made a move towards the great escape. The fox stood on its back legs and peered into the dense green cover, then dropped back down and sat on the grass, sort of hanging out patiently.

The squirrel made its move too soon. It dropped from the arbor, literally hit the ground running, and took off across the lawn. Total Wild Kingdom scene ensued as the fox followed, about a foot behind the terrified squirrel. eventually stepping on the squirrel’s busy tail and causing it to wipe out. I was bummed. I was rooting for the squirrel. The fox grabbed it by the neck with its teeth and started shaking it hard — right in the open. The squirrel didn’t like that.

Then a clutch of the ladies-who-walk came cackling along the sidewalk. The fox froze. They didn’t see him. He dropped the squirrel (whom I figured was dead) but no, the Squirrel was resurrected and made another dash for the bushes and freedom.

The fox followed and again, the game of hide in the bush and wait started to play itself out again. Eventually the squirrel hopped from the top of one arborvitae to the next, flung itself at the black cherry tree and headed up. Meanwhile, I’m in Wikipedia reading about the grey fox and learned it can climb trees really well. This one stood up, forepaws on the trunk, looked up and seemed to shrug and say, “Screw it.”

Anyway, if the fox can deal with the rat problem under the bird feeders, he’s welcome to them If he poses a threat to the Yorkshire Terrier (everything in theory poses a threat to lap dogs) he’s toast. And we’re all relieved that one of the squirrels — a ratty, wino looking squirrel with half a tail we’ve nicknamed “Stumpy” — was seen on the arbor just a half-hour later. Now to see if this morning’s assault victim limps back with any injuries.

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Jun 01 2014

Stop the presses, Old Shore Road is now one way

Published by under Cotuit

Old Shore Road — it’s the road pictured in the image at the head of this blog (a wide-angle panorama taken at the turn of the 19th century and found in a Churbuck collection somewhere) — connecting Main Street two doors down from my house with the boat ramp, the public bathing beach/dinghy rack at Ropes Beach, the yacht club, and then up the hill to the curve where Putnam Ave swings right  and turns briefly into Maple at the broad expanse of the Ropes Field.

The town, at the urging of the Cotuit-Santuit Civic Association, has been focused on Old Shore Road for a couple years. First they banned dinghies and rowboats and hobie cats and sunfishes and paddleboats from hanging around on the beach between November 15 and April 15. They called out the surveyors last year and staked out the parameters of the road leading to some fears it would be widened. Then they started hanging up even more signs prohibiting the parking of boat trailers, and as of this past week, they have officially made the road one-way from Putnam up to Main Street.

I guess I’m supportive. Old Shore Road is being loved to death.

It will suck not being to duck down the hill in the car on my way to Hyannis or the grocery store to take a quick look at my boats to make sure all is well and the bilge pumps are keeping up with the rainwater. Two way traffic is a disaster on the narrow road, especially during weekends and busy times such as when a hurricane approaches and everyone re-learns how to back up a trailer on the nice new (relatively new) boat ramp installed over the old sandy spot a decade ago. The stretch along the beach is nearly impassable on a sunny summer afternoon as boaters, rubberneckers, pedestrians, cyclists, dog walkers and the handful of residents off of the road try to make their way from one end to another.

[Can I say a word about the proliferation of signage down there? There has to be over three dozen different town signs along Old Shore Road — everything from stop signs to parking signs to don’t refuel your boat signs, eastern blue crab season, no trailers, a long list of beach regulations, no dinghy warnings, handicapped parking ….. on and on and on. The visual blight is astonishing. Come on. We can do away with 90 percent I bet. ]

In the end the situation is understandable. There is precious little public beach front in Cotuit and this is spot is the main attraction for boaters, fishermen, sailors and clammers (along with the Town Dock). As the harbor becomes more and more crowded and the inland population of the Cape becomes more insulated and walled off from the water, any aperture with access is going to feel more and more pressure. Personally? I’d make it pedestrian only except for residents and people launching boats with no parking anywhere. Ropes Beach — once a pristine little bathing beach with pretty lifeguards and a bathhouse, and a water fountain — is a dilapidated place for people to park and walk their dogs out to Handy’s Point (the dog-mitt dispenser for turds is missing and special thanks to the dog walkers who leave their little knotted bags in the beach grass). Come summer the beach is taken over by the sailing classes at the yacht club, and every year the place gets closed down due to excessive bacteria run-offs following rain storms.

It isn’t going back to the way it was, but at least the “one-way-ification” may take off some of the pressure from the rubbernecking motorists.

One response so far

May 28 2014

Cotuit Fire District Annual Meeting tonight: Vote Yes on Article 19

Published by under Baseball,Cape Cod,Cotuit

Update: The article passed 75-3.

Tonight the village holds is annual meeting at Freedom Hall (7:30 pm) to work through the budgets of the fire and water departments and the prudential committee (which takes care of Freedom Hall.) The warrant is pretty much the same from one year to the next — some years the fire department needs a new ambulance (they need one this year) or the water department wants to build a new water tower (which they did a few years ago in Santuit) — but most of the items are standard items such as salaries, a small stipend to the library, money for the village street lights and some modifications to the bylaws to bring them into the Internet age so meeting notices can be posted on the district’s web site.

This year a special article is on the warrant — placed there by citizen petition — to ask the village tax payers to purchase a conservation easement for the 19-acres of woodlands behind Lowell Park — home field of the Cotuit Kettleers. The price tag is $235,000, about $67 in additional taxes for the typical homeowner.

The highlighted fore4st shows the 19-acres to be preserved. (photo from the blt.org by Rick Heath)

Ordinarily I would say it isn’t the village’s “municipal duty” to preserve open space — that’s a charitable effort usually promoted through the good efforts of the Barnstable Land Trust and private donors — but this is a crucial investment towards preserving the character of the village and keeping intact an extraordinary greenway that runs from Little River Road past the Bell Farm conservation lands, past Mosswood Cemetery all the way up to the wonderful curve at the Ropes Field. It saves the pristine, uninterrupted outfield of the best ballpark in the Cape Cod Baseball League and it will present a good buffer for the well field. This is the sort of thing my grandparents and great grandparents would have done and I say it is our duty to dig into our pockets and do the same for future generations. Cotuit has a proud history of doing the right thing and this is the right thing to do.

The Barnstable Land Trust is pushing for a Yes vote on Article 19 and with good justification. First of all, this keeps nine homes and their septic systems away from one of the most important sources of our drinking water. Last summer Cotuit had its first “boil order” after the drinking water failed a test. Across the street from Lowell Park, is a dilapidated home that has been a battleground between a local developer and residents — he wanted to subdivide the property into condos, but eventually gave up after letting the place deteriorate into an eyesore. It also abuts a well field and the village has purchased the conservation restriction to insure no septic systems get built too close to the water supply.

I’d argue that this is the sort of thing that improves property values in the village and is a great investment in our future. The article is going to come to a vote later in the meeting (it is 19 out of 24) and it’s the duty of any concerned property owner with an interest in the village to get off their butts and show up. Cotuit’s Fire District is essential to keep the village’s individual identity intact and to give its residents a truly local voice in the management of the place. While the calls for consolidation into a single Town of Barnstable system continue to be heard in the name of efficiency and economy, we Cotusions need to keep in mind that our Fire District — granted to us by the legislature in the 1920s — gives us a degree of sovereign autonomy and control over our affairs that once given up, can’t be regained.

 

 

3 responses so far

May 21 2014

2014 Cotuit Kettlers – Google Calendar Schedule

Published by under Baseball,Cape Cod,Cotuit

Here is this year’s Cotuit Kettleer’s schedule for adding to Google Calendar. This is unofficial, handtyped by me, complete with any inadvertent errors. Home games are designated in blue, away games in red. You can get to it with this link

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Apr 10 2014

Every Litter Bit Hurts

Published by under Cotuit,General

In the 1960s there was an anti-litter campaign led by Lady Bird Johnson, First Lady of the United States. It was the first of its kind. People started hanging little litter bags on the dashboards of their cars. Public service ads with crying Indians and the message “Every Litter Bit Hurts” were part of the culture. In some regards the anti-litter movement and highway beautification efforts led by Lady Bird were a precursor to Earth Day and the beginnings of the ecology movement in the early 1970s.

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When I moved to Cotuit in 1991 I was impressed by the example set by Professor James Gould – a retired college professor who is the village’s historian and a dedicated force behind the Peace movement on Cape Cod. Jim would take his daily constitutional from his house overlooking Little River, down Old Post Road past Mosswood Cemetery, and on into the village to collect his mail from the post office and stop by the Cotuit Grocery Store when it was run by his son Steve.

When I drove past him I noticed he was carrying a plastic grocery bag, the kind you feel guilty about throwing out, the kind that festoon tree branches around New York City. I figured at first it was for carrying the mail. But then I saw him bend over, pick up a piece of litter and drop it into the bag. A simple act done as a matter of fact as he walked along on his daily stroll. Usually you see the roadside litter crews in yellow jump suits followed by a Barnstable County Sheriff’s van, or the Cub Scouts earning a merit badge, not a guy getting his mail and cleaning up as he went along.

His example got me thinking about altruism and the notion of the unsung, anonymous donor, especially in a village like Cotuit where there are so many causes looking for money — from the art center to the Cahoon Museum, the library to the Kettleers — and a long standing tradition of charitable good works from buying open space to preserve the rural character of the village to banding together to ban piers, chase out commercial marinas, or trying (unsuccessfully) to have a historical district implemented to slow down the tear downs of the old houses.

A few years ago I took a plastic bag along with me for a walk and came home wishing I had brought four more. It became a bit of an obsession and I started crawling into the underbrush to fish out beer bottles or styrofoam coffee cup. The amount of empty nip bottles were staggering, indeed most Cotuit litter can be categorized in descending order of frequency:

  1. Empty nips (this season’s most popular brand is “Firecracker,” some cinnamon flavored thing I guess)
  2. Dunkin donuts coffee cups, lids, and straws
  3. Beer cans
  4. Poland Spring water bottles
  5. Cigarette packs
  6. Snuff boxes
  7. Empty pints of vodka
  8. Six pack rings
  9. Random paper
  10. Builder’s trash, eg pieces of shingles, plastic shutters

The nips are easy to explain — they are cheap, they are easy to conceal and drink, and if they are tossed into the bushes there is no incriminating open containers should you get pulled over. The prevalence of schnapps, vodka, and cinnamon flavored shots points to the mouthwash qualities of those flavors, as opposed to the reek of whisky. In fact, scotch and bourbon nips are very rare.

The pay off is a clean walk and not that slightly shitty guilty feeling I was getting as I stepped over yet another yellow labeled empty shot of Firecracker during my constitutional. Beach clean ups, especially on the outside of Sampson’s/Dead Neck are far more rewarding, with a lot of washed up fishing lures in the wrack line which can be buffed up, given new hooks, and save me $10-$15 a pop during bluefish frenzy (in a month).

 

 

2 responses so far

Apr 07 2014

Stuffies

Published by under Clamming,Cotuit

Every place has its native culinary specialties. Buffalo, New York has beef on weck; Cincinnati was five-way chili; New Orleans the Po-boy; North Carolina the pulled pork barbecue sandwich with coleslaw, and on and on and on. Turn on a food channel and there will be some overenthused fat guy on a culinary tour of the backwaters looking for the regional speciality.

Stuffed quahogs from Marguerite’s in Westport – taken from roadfood.com

Yet what of Cape Cod? What are the classic items that every tourist should seek out? Frankly the place isn’t famous for much — certainly not on the level of a Philly cheesesteak — and even within Massachusetts there are foods that get mixed up with Cape Cod but which aren’t really Cape Cod born. Take the fried clam for example — that’s a North Shore/Essex County speciality born in Essex at Woodman’s where in 1914 Chubby Woodman fried some soft-shelled “steamer” clams in batter at the suggestion of a customer. Sure, one can obsess about the best fried clams and search the Cape for the best examples (personally I used to favor Sandy’s in Buzzards Bay, but crave the ones from The Bite in Menemsha, even if you have to own a hedge fund to afford them).

Clam chowder is pretty Cape Cod, but apparently the dish came down from French-Canada and the word is derived from “chaudière” after the stove the stuff was cooked on in the Maritime Provinces. They serve Legal Seafood’s chowder at Fenway Park — frankly a kind of disgusting thought on a steamy humid day when a guy comes trooping up the stairs in the bleachers hawking what is essentially clam-flavored hot milk thickened with corn starch or flour. No one makes the clam chowder I grew up with, but if you want a sense of it, read Melville’s account of Ishmael’s dinner at the Spouter Inn in New Bedford.

One very Cape Cod dish is Portuguese kale soup, especially around East Falmouth where there is a big population of Cape Verdeans, Azoreans, and other descendants of the Portuguese sailors who settled on the Cape after sailing on New England whalers in the mid-19th century. Take chicken broth, a lot of torn up kale (the miracle food of the paleo-Hipster movement), some kidney beans, diced potatoes, sliced chorizo and you have a bowl of goodness.

If I had to nominate one dish as the official Cape Cod specialty I would have to go with the stuffed quahog, also known as the “Stuffie.”

Take big quahogs — the bigger the better, like ashtray sized monsters — grind up all the meat and clam juice and mix with some sort of bread crumbs, diced onion, celery and whatever feels right, mix into a filling like a turkey stuffing, pack into the open shells and bake until golden brown. The restaurants serve them with a pat of butter, a lemon wedge, and a bottle of tabasco.

Stuffed quahogs are big among Cotuit cooks for bragging rights. My step-sister, mother, aunts, brother-in-law …. everyone has their own take on the stuffie. Green bell peppers? Maybe red pepper flakes? There is no great restaurant stuffed quahog. Most bars that serve them as bar food get premade ones from New Bedford — nasty, very processed pasty things with no big clam chunks. Do not confuse a stuffie with Clams Casino — different thing altogether.

I confess I like a homemade Cotuit stuffed quahog, and even will go with a mass produced ones if I’m at the right bar and want something to go with a beer. My favorite recipe — which is total heresy because it is “gourmet” to some critical palates– is Chris Schlesinger’s “Ultimate Stuffie” from the Back Eddy in Westport. These suckers have ground Portuguese sausage, a ton of sage and oregano, and kernels of corn. I discovered the recipe in The New England Clam Shack Cookbook, (probably one of my most used books on my kitchen bookshelf.)

 

 

4 responses so far

Apr 02 2014

The unclimbed

Published by under Baseball,Cape Cod,Cotuit

I was way too wimpy to ever climb a Cotuit water tower as a kid. I know those who did. One went on to feel perfectly at ease jumping out of airplanes. I am so freaked out by heights that I get weird thinking about heights.  (A Cub Scout expedition to the top of a fire tower in Georgetown, Massachusetts in 1966 ended with me clutching the bannister of the open metal-grate stairs and having to have my fingers pried off by my mother the Den Mother). Anyway, I went for my daily constitutional behind the ball park where the land is at risk of being developed unless the Barnstable Land Trust can raise enough $$$ to buy it and save the Kettleer’s home field, Lowell Park, from having some starter castles in the outfield.  Give today.  The pink surveyor ribbons are in the woods!

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Mar 29 2014

To the Snow Plow Driver who thought he was in a corn field:

Published by under Cape Cod,Cotuit

Dear Mister Snow Plow Driver,

I know you have a very hard job. You have to drive your big truck with the big plow through the blizzards, trying to see out your windshield in near white-out conditions. No amount of Firecracker Schnapps or DeKuypers Peach Brandy can keep the cold from penetrating into your lonely cab, but at least there aren’t any many civilians out driving that you need to avoid.

Might I suggest an eye exam? That lazy eye can be corrected you know. You just need to bring in the right side of your plow about a foot or two. Then you won’t plow up all the roadsides of Cotuit from CVS to Oregon Beach by slicing off at least a foot of everybody’s front lawn and depositing it in a nice furrow on the sidewalks and lawns.

We so look forward to raking it back and trying to reseed it. Because if we don’t, and if your boss at the DPW decides you need some help staying within the lines of the coloring book known as the roads of Cotuit, then my tax dollars will be spent installing ugly curbstones that will take away the nice grassy soft shoulders that make the village look like Cape Cod and not suburban Waltham.

Maybe you thought you were Richard Burton in “Where Eagles Dare”:

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Yes. We stick out little reflective sticks on the side of the road to tell you where the pavement ends and the grass begins, but you managed to pick off most of them this time through the town. I know it has been a nasty winter — this spring blizzard was the last straw and it probably pissed you off as much as the rest of us — but it was the one storm that managed to do the greatest amount of damage to the village because you need an eye exam.

3 responses so far

Mar 27 2014

A Sunday Stroll in Cotuit

Published by under Cape Cod,Cotuit,history

I’m trying to walk off some weight and hit the road on Sunday to take a stroll through Mosswood Cemetery and around Eagle Pond. Winter is the best time for marching around in the woods. No leaves have sprouted to obscure the views and few if any people are out on a grey afternoon. First stop was the hill atop Old Shore Road at the bend on Putnam Avenue. In behind the old Ropes property is this sad barn. The cupola crashed in during Sandy in the fall of 2012. A tarp was hauled over the hole, and you can see some strapping on what remains, so who knows, it may get rebuilt or it may vanish like so many other old sheds and barns around the village.

The Ropes Barn

Onwards to Mosswood Cemetery,  to look at the Churbuckian headstone, all covered with lichens, the plot littered with winter’s blown sticks. Always strange to think that my name will get stuck there in the ground some day. Only my grandfather Henry is actually buried there. Grandmother Nellie and my father were cremated, so all that remains of them are the stones. I reminded myself for the umpteenth time to visit the cemetery office and see what the deal is with the family plot.  It’s interesting to see the changes to the cemetary and the graves that get extraordinary attention, with little solar powered lights, bunches of plastic flowers, ornate laser inscribed tombstones with pictures and poetry. Nothing like the old Yankee practice of sticking up a name, a birthday and death date and then moving on.

I went up the hill to the old section, where the 19th century family plots are. The Chatfields and Fishers and Fields and Hodges — the old unmet names of great-aunts and uncles gathered together. The oldest stones are pretty beat up, with some interesting information that belies the nautical past. “Died in Rio de Janiero” or “Drowned, Cotuit Bay 1842.” One of the oldest stones is of one of my oldest ancestors, Azubah Handy, wife of Bethuel Handy, mother of Bethuel Handy Jr., the Cotuit whaler who spent a winter stranded in the Siberian ice of the Sea of Okhotsk until my great-great grandfather Tom Chatfield could sail back from San Francisco and rescue his father-in-law.

 Azubah was one of the first to be buried in the cemetery (1819) (I don’t know where the colonial graves of Cotuit are). Her inscription is one of the most wordy in Mosswood, a poem that was oft quoted to me as a kid:

My bosom friend come here and see
Where lays the last remains of me
When I the debt of nature paid
A burying yard for me was made.
Here lays the body of your bride
The loving knot is now untied
A loving husband you have been,
To me the dearest of all men.
Husband and children here I lay
Stamp on your minds my dying day
Come often here and take a view
Where lays the one that loved you.”

Onwards to the gate in the fence between the boneyard and Bell Farm, the old turkey farm that was nearly turned into a subdivision in the 1980s before being saved by the Barnstable Land Trust and preserved as a gorgeous meadow with my favorite tree in all of Cotuit.

Then out of the meadow and into the woods where the box turtles live and risk the walk across busy Putnam, remembering the old Bell Farm barn with the roof that was painted with “GREEN ACRES” in homage to a television series from the 1960s that had something to do with a Hungarian countess (Zsa Zsa Gabor) living on a hillbilly farm. The roof of the barn in the TV show was used in the title, and some vandal wit decided to paint the abandoned barn so everyone driving into Cotuit would catch a glimpse. Every so often the owner of the barn would pay someone to paint the shingles black, which was tantamount to erasing a blackboard for the next vandals to climb up there and do some nocturnal graffiti.

Eventually the place was knocked down and now the village has a great meadow.

Anyway, down the trail into the woods and over the planked bridge over Little River, one of Cotuit two “rivers” as the Cape is fond of calling it’s glacial streams Rivers in lieu of having anything truly big and wide and flowing. (the other river being the Santuit River). Little River runs from Lovell’s Pond in Newtown, the northernmost part of Cotuit adjacent to Santuit. A pretty little pond that is stocked with trout by the state and has one of the town’s fresh water beaches. I’ve never seen any evidence of Little River other than its delta on Handy’s Point into the bay, the glimpse next to Bell Farm, and a pool in back of my cousin’s workshop a little further to the north. I’m sure it was a herring run at one point, probably holding smelt too, but the cranberry industry killed off most of the runs when the bogs dammed up the flow and diverted the water to flood the cranberry vines.

I walked around Eagle Pond at a fast pace, working up enough of a sweat to need to unzip my jacket. I popped back out on Little River Road and followed it to one of Cotuit’s nicest little neighborhoods, home to the Cotuit Oyster Company, and Handy’s Point, the promontory where my oldest Cape Cod ancestors once lived, having come to Cotuit in the late 1600s from Mattapoisett to build ships. I’ll scan some of the old black and white photos eventually, but Little River, also known as the Inner Harbor, was a bit of a separate village within a village in the 18th and 19th centuries, connected to Cotuitport by the Old Post Road, but separated by Little River. According to Chatfield’s reminiscences, he left for a Pacific whaling voyage with his wife and young family living in the Handy home on Handy’s Point, but his wife Florrie, isolated from the village by the river, sold the place and moved the clan into the village center. On his return three years later he rushed home to the old place, only to find the family gone. He hitched a ride into town on a wagon and was pointed to his new home in the center. Shame, it is a pretty piece of waterfront and in the 19th century was the home of Mark Anthony DeWolfe Howe, a prominent Boston editor and winner of the Pulitzer prize. That house has been reskinned a few times over the year and now looks like the typical non-Cape wedding cake temple to the gods of plate glass and rococo railings, faux widow’s walks, and brass lanterns with plastic adirondack chairs that no one sits in arranged in a row on the Chem-lawned grass.

One big hurricane and the place will be underwater. There was a reason the oldtimers considered waterfront living to be a questionable thing, and I suspect the Chatfield-Handy exodus from Handy’s Point to the village center was viewed as a climb up the social ladder, just as getting out of town in the 1950s to live in suburban Boston was viewed as a good thing by my grandparents.

I walked down the beach, past the pissed off “PRIVATE BEACH! NO CHAIRS!” signs — one of the “signs of the times” of modern Cotuit and the Hedge Fundification of the waterfront that has brought us evil looking security cameras and warnings to keep moving — and around the peat bank to the terminus of Little River. Some old pilings give proof of an old bridge there, but, alas, I had to ford it Taras Bulba-style, and wound up with a wet leg.

 

3 responses so far

Mar 11 2014

Spring Fever Baseball

Published by under Baseball,Cotuit

The Red Sox better mail me my season tickets soon or I’ll begin to panic and start stalking them. I even checked my online bank register the other day to make sure the check I mailed in cleared last December. Season tickets are now my second worst non-renewal nightmare, up there with the falling-off-the-cliff and underwear-in-the-highschool-hallway dreams.. The first nightmare of non-renewal will always be my mooring permits from the Town of Barnstable.

My first game will be April 8 vs. the Rangers. Something tells me after this winter that I will not be wearing my “Thaw Ted” t-shirt and shorts that Tuesday evening but will probably have more layers of wool going on than a Yukon prospector.

So, randomly, here’s the first bright sign of spring: one of my favorite Cotuit Kettleers blew everyone away during a recent Red Sox spring season game down in Jupiter, Florida.   I’m talking Deven Marrero, the Arizona State phenomenon my Cotuit baseball buddies and I adopted as most-likely-to-succeed in the 2010  championship season when he hit .306 as a freshman, returning the next year to play 12 games in the 2011 season and hit .346.  The guy is an incredible fielder.

Gordon Edes wrote last week that Marrero is the Red Sox rookie to watch this year and a strong candidate for the Sox’s future shortstop:

“The beauty of spring training is that you never know when or where the next coming-out party will be, and who will emerge from the shadows to declare themselves a major leaguer-in-waiting.

Last spring it was outfielder Jackie Bradley Jr., grabbing us with the virtuosity of his all-around play in Fort Myers. In 2005, it was a cocky Class A reliever named Jonathan Papelbon, who responded to a teammate being hit by a pitch in Fort Lauderdale by buzzing slugger Sammy Sosa with a high, hard one.

And Thursday afternoon here in Roger Dean Stadium, with the Red Sox leaving nearly all of their regulars back in Fort Myers, 23-year-old shortstop Deven Marrero, who went to high school about 70 minutes away from here (American Heritage School in Plantation), became the latest Red Sox rookie to seize his moment.

[+] EnlargeMarrero

AP Photo/Mike JanesShortstop Devin Marrero (above, coaching first base in a spring training game last year) flashed impressive defensive ability against the Marlins.

Marrero did so with a fielding exhibition worthy of Cirque du Soleil, one in which he displayed spectacular range diving for a ball up the middle, showed off his aerodynamic capacity while completing a double play and handled everything else hit his way with soft hands and a strong arm.

“My gosh, he put on a display defensively,” manager John Farrell said after a scoreless game between the Sox and Miami Marlins that was shortened to 7 2/3 innings by a late-afternoon deluge.

Which brings me to this year’s Kettleer’s roster which is live on the team site.  I’ll get off my butt and do the usual OCD Google-Baseball America scouting report but past experience tells me that a good number of these names won’t make it to Cotuit due to the usual Team USA/College World Series conflicts. It is always nice to see returning players and this year’s squad had four alumni from last summer’s championship team.

PHOTOS # NAME POS B/T HT WT YEAR SCHOOL
Barrera, Tres C R/R 6’2 195 2017 Texas
Bozoian, Vahn OF R/R 6’5 210 2016 USC
Carmichael, Jay RHP R/R 6’2 175 2016 Florida
Copping, Calvin RHP R/R 6’3 180 2016 Cal St Northridge
Duke, Travis LHP L/L 6’2 220 2016 Texas
Eicholtz, Nick RHP R/R 6’4 180 2017 Alabama
Fisher, Jameson C/INF L/R 6’2 180 2016 SE Louisiana
Fulmer, Carson RHP R/R 5’11 190 2016 Vanderbilt
Haynie, Will C/INF R/R 6’5 225 2017 Alabama
Henderson, Spencer LHP/1B L/L 6’3 215 2016 UC Davis
Holder, Kyle INF L/R 6’1 185 2016 U. San Diego
Photos: 1, 2, 3, 4 10 Jackson, Drew INF R/R 6’2 195 2016 Stanford
James, Logan LHP L/L 5’11 185 2016 Stanford
Leftwich, Luke RHP R/R 6’3 200 2016 Wofford
McClelland, Jackson RHP R/R 6’5 220 2016 Pepperdine
Melton, Hunter INF R/R 6’2 225 2016 Texas A&M
Minter, A.J. LHP L/L 6’0 200 2016 Texas A&M
Parks, Adam RHP R/R 6’2 220 2016 Liberty
Photos: 2, 3, 4 2 Schrock, Max INF L/R 5’9 180 2016 South Carolina
Photos: 2 14 Stubbs, Garrett C L/R 5’10 160 2015 USC
Taylor, Jeremy OF L/L 6’2 178 2016 East Tennessee St.
Taylor, Logan INF R/R 6’1 200 2016 Texas A&M
Tewes, Sam RHP R/R 6’5 205 2017 Wichita St.
Vogel, Matthew RHP R/R 6’2 185 2017 South Carolina
Wingenter, Trey RHP R/R 6’7 195 2016 Auburn
Photos: 1, 2, 3, 4 8 Wiseman, Rhett OF L/R 5’11 190 2016 Vanderbilt

And being all springlike (since the clock did its thing and make it at least sunny at 6 pm albeit a balmy 20 degrees), I’ll drag the boat to the boat guy next week for a pre-season tuneup and start stalking those wily clams awaiting me. I was in London the past two weeks and they have full daffodils and crocuses (Crocii?) which was nice to see. Otherwise, mud season approacheth and I need a baseball game to get me out of this spleenish winter funk.

One response so far

Jan 29 2014

Compiled Woodlot Revolt Paper

Published by under Cape Cod,Cotuit,history

The complete story of the Mashpee Woodlot Revolt of 1833 is here: The Mashpee Woodlot Revolt of 1833

One response so far

Jan 19 2014

Local community networks – Nextdoor trial for Cotuit

The “local” internet has been a tough nut to crack for publishers, community groups, towns, bloggers, etc.. Lots of local groups and institutions have created their own online presence, discussion forums, email mailing lists, but no great solution has emerged to allow neighbors to connect with neighbors (that assumes neighbors even want to talk to their neighbors in this era of “bowling alone”).

Civic groups have long provided an online meeting place or hub for themselves and their agenda. My Cape Cod village of Cotuit is served by:

  • the website of the Town of Barnstable (Cotuit is one of seven villages in the town)
  • a Barnstable sponsored issue forum provided by a third-party vendor, called iForum
  • the website of the Cotuit-Santuit Civic Association; a community organization
  • the website of the Cotuit Fire District, the official governing body of the village’s fire and water departments as well as its prudential committee which oversees budgets and infrastructure like the village meeting house — Freedom Hall — and other essentials like street lights.
  • and a ton of other group pages for the Cotuit Library, the Cotuit Center for the Arts, the Historical Society, the Cotuit Athletic Association (sponsors of the Cotuit Kettleers baseball team), the Cahoon Museum, the Cotuit Mosquito Yacht Club .,… and on and on.

There’s no umbrella site like a “Cotuit.com” — no digital hub — there may be a Cotuit Facebook page (I don’t use Facebook). I know there is a Wikipedia page.  Something may be missing. The online equivalent of the bulletin boards inside of the library and the post office and outside of the the Kettle Ho and the Coop — a place where there’s a master calendar of events, contact information, a place for neighbors to offer stuff for free or for sale, discuss crime issues in the neighborhood, etc. etc.

The Cape Cod Times doesn’t really have a Cotuit specific area, and they have a subscription model. The weekly paper, the Barnstable Patriot, occasionally covers Cotuit. There is a Patch.com site for Barnstable-Hyannis.

I don’t know, the digital needs of Cotuit may be very well served. But in my new job as editor in chief of an internet yellow pages company started in the UK called hibu, I’m looking very closely at the digital tools and services for local merchants and consumers.

One solution I am looking at is called Nextdoor, an online tool that allows neighbors — not politicians or officials — to define their neighborhood, invite in members, and create a shared space for documents, events, classifieds, etc. The various groups in a neighborhood can have their own Nextdoor group, and one neighbor can invite another via email into the perimeters of the neighborhood. I don’t see this as a replacement for say the Historical Society’s website, but a common place that the members of the society could promote their calendar of events, and drive traffic to their own online destination.

nextdoor

I started the Cotuit neighborhood on Nextdoor last week and  spammed about 50 people in my Gmail address book with invites to join, 2o+ have accepted. The library has already posted a Valentine’s Day event, so there are already early signs of life.

We’ll see how it goes. I DO NOT want to be the administrator of the thing, and was pleased to see as members I invite accept, they in turn can invite others.

So far I see no advertising and so I don’t understand Nextdoor’s business model. They are a venture capital darling, have a lot of investment and high growth numbers.

If you want an invite, send me a mail to david AT churbuck DOT com. You need to have an address inside of Cotuit  village (not Santuit, I left that alone for some Santuit resident to create a second neighborhood — Nextdoor seems to allow adjacent neighborhoods to cross over).

One response so far

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