How I Spent My Week-End

A few lines drawn on my forehead and from nose to mouth. A touch of eye-liner (but only on one eye). And a liberal amount of hair-white.

An eye-patch, black top-hat and voluminous black cloak. And a completely cool tail-coat with a rich-looking pattern and scads of gold braid all over it. I really liked that coat.

This picture is the MySpace-style self portrait that I couldn't help taking while in costume just before the first performance of the Nutcracker.

In the days before children (BC), Karen and I were active with the Possum Point Players, a local theater group. Karen played in the orchestra and I took small character parts or worked backstage doing sound, props or other crew work.

I sometimes miss doing shows. I hope to get back on stage more when the girls are driving themselves and off to college. It was fun to be out in front of an audience again, if only in a small part.

My Blue-Collar Village

I slept-in a bit this morning. We were all up very late rehearsing the Nutcracker Ballet, which goes before an audience this evening. I was awakened at by the 7:00 o'clock horn that sounds automatically each morning (Sundays excepted) from downtown. I believe the horn is mounted on the old power plant that used to provide all of our electricity and still serves as a power distribution point and shop for the Board of Public Works.

That horn reminds me that my small city -- Lewes, Delaware -- has very blue-collar roots. It blew each morning at seven to call the workers from their small frame houses in several neighborhoods of the old town, through mercantile downtown, past the busy fishing port, and to their jobs at the fish factories that once lined the Delaware Bay shore out towards Fort Miles and its shore defenses batteries.

The horn still calls out each morning. I sometimes hear it as I head out for my commute to Dover. On week-ends it occasionally calls me from my bed to my jobs around the house. The small frame worker's houses have been restored as mini-Victorians. Downtown's hardware store, five-n-dime and grocery have become a series of lovely boutiques. The working fishing boats have gone from the port, replaced by sailboats, tourist head-boats and the sleek powerboats of recreational anglers. The fish factories that once gave Lewes its distinctive odor have been plowed-under for a new crop of large beach-front and near beach-front homes. Some with full-time residents; many as vacation homes for people whose working life is hours away. Fort Miles lives on as a museum piece within Cape Henlopen State Park.

Lewes has changed in the 20 years I've lived here. Change is a constant in all life, of course, but my town has changed profoundly, I think. And not all for the best.

I remember when I first discovered Lewes. I had just begun working at a local radio station and was sent out as part of a remote broadcast from Lewes' Second Street. I loved it. It had high-end shops and a five-n-dime. The hardware store had hardwood floors and a hammered tin ceiling. The street was busy with both vacationers and local farmers and workers. It felt to me like what a small town in America should feel like. Rich and poor, white and black, workers and retirees all going about their several different sorts of business.

I knew that this was the sort of real town I wanted to be a part of. I was more familiar with Rehoboth Beach and Bethany Beach; resort towns I had visited each summer of my childhood. I love both of those towns. But, in looking for a place to settle, I wanted a year-round small town, not a busy summer resort. That was the Lewes I found.

Now, I find, my year-round working town filled with folks from all walks of life is becoming a place for wealthy people. Some are retired here. Some are here in their second homes as often as they can be and are looking ahead to retiring here.

Many of the shops are marketing to retirees and vacationers. There is still a small grocery, but for most day-to-day shopping I must leave town. The hardware store is gone. The five-n-dime is gone.

Work in Lewes is now largely retail. But retail workers can't afford to live here. There is still a hospital and medical professions abound. But, except for the Doctors, most who work in that part of Lewes' economy can't afford to live here. We're losing our economic and racial diversity. And we are losing our age-range diversity. At 45 I am often one of the youngest people at public meetings in town.

These changes hit me in the heart the other day. I was on the phone with a part-time resident who has become active in efforts to control growth around Lewes (a laudable effort). I am a part of the Lewes Planning Commission and so often find myself in conversations of this sort. I can't quote exactly what this woman told me, but it was something along the lines of "we must protect our lovely Village." I know she used the word "Village" because I remember thinking, "it's a city, dammit, please don't turn it into a quaint little retirement Village."

That's not who we were and not who we should be.

Ooh! Ooh! Media Attention!

It probably won't be there for very long, but as I post this (Wednesday at lunch) there is a partial cast-photo of the Sussex Ballet's Nutcracker on the front page of website of the the Cape Gazette. This photo ran along with a story on the production in last Friday's print edition.

I took that picture at the Dance Studio on a recent weekend. We took photos of several different groupings of cast members. It was fun, but a challenge. It's tough to get large groups all aligned, standing straight, smiling and with eyes open. Their being trained dancers helped, of course, but I will say I took about 10 versions of each pose, just to be sure.

For my post on the performance, I used a family shot from last year.

Yet Another Lighthouse for Sale

The Point No Point lighthouse in the Chesapeake Bay is up for sale. The Washington Post has the story this morning of a recent visit to the lighthouse by prospective buyers. It's a pretty beat-up looking lighthouse.

This is the third lighthouse for sale I've learned about this year; I think there may be a theme developing here.

In Which I Take to the Stage in a Ballet

Now that we've reached Thanksgiving (and may yours be happy), it is appropriate to start thinking about Christmas. Thus, it is time for you to call (302) 855-9282 to get your tickets to the Sussex Ballet's presentation of The Nutcracker on either December 1 or December 2.

Why, you ask? Well, aside from this ballet's status as a holiday tradition, and the fact that it is being staged by the estimable Kate Walker, proprietor of the Sussex Dance Academy and a truly fine teacher, and the fact that it features some of the most talented and dedicated youngsters Sussex County has to offer, this production of the Nutcracker will include the entirety of the Delaware branch of the Mahaffie family on stage at the very same time!

Actually, that convergence of Mahaffie's has happened before, in last year's Nutcracker. This year, however, both of our daughters will dance in featured roles and I have moved up from the role of stout-man-standing-stage-right-in-party-scene. The Lovely Karen will reprise her role of lovely-tall-woman-in-green-dress which drew such rave reviews (from me, anyway) last year.

Both of our girls are part of the corps de ballet and will have featured roles. Christina will be featured in the roles of the Columbine Doll, Lead Soldier, and a Candy Cane. Colleen will be featured in the role of Dream Fairy, and plays a key part in the opening party scene.

This year, I have taken on the role of Herr Drosselmeyer, the mysterious party guest who delights the children with magic toys and presents young Clara with what turns out to be a magic nutcracker doll.

This may be a ballet, but I won't be dancing this part. Drosselmeyer is an acted role and its main function is to set up the story and help the young folks shine in their dancing roles. I plan to play Drosselmeyer as a kindly magician, with the barest hint of Groucho Marx thrown-in. I'll have great fun, but we'll keep the focus on the dancers.

It really is a remarkable group of kids. They range in age from about first-grade to high school seniors. They are the daughters and sons of local teachers and doctors, police and builders, doctors and judges, government workers and clergy, and all walks of life. Many of these kids have been dancing alongside my daughters for many years now. We've watched them grow and develop a variety of talents. I'm proud to know them.

The New York Times featured a story on The Nutcracker recently. It focused on the fact that there are countless Nutcracker productions in every city and town at this time of year. The story quotes a 1972 British reviewer who wrote "Well, we are one more Nutcracker nearer death." The Times counters, though, that even in its ubiquity, The Nutcracker is an important part of the Christmas experience.

One more Nutcracker nearer death, though? No classic ballet is less death-haunted than The Nutcracker (though tucked into its narrative is a little mouse-scale revenge tragedy). The danger of watching too many Nutcrackers — as opposed to too many Swan Lakes or Romeo and Juliets — is that they may bring you sooner not to death but to second childhood.

I think that captures the function of this ballet, even for those who are not ballet-o-philes: it is an annual expression of wonder and joy and light. And whether you celebrate a pagan winter solstice, or a Jewish Festival of Lights, or Kwanzaa, or Christmas, or something in-between, this season is all about light, and lightness, and joy.

So call (302) 855-9282 and get tickets to see the charming and talented Colleen and Christina, the lovely Karen, and me on stage at the Little Theatre at Cape Henlopen High School, in Lewes, on December 1 or December 2.

Fall's Folliage Continues to Please

Some Things I Like (#567)

Getting Back to Basics

Artist Jason Salavon has created a new work based on the 2007 Ikea Catalog.

He has reduced it to its most basic elements, page lay-out and color.

(Via information aesthetics)

Jud Bennett Got Me Thinking...

Note: This is a re-posting of a comment I made this morning over at First State Politics. Jud Bennett posted a Jud's Rant that touched a chord and led me to get some ideas out that I'd like to share here as well. I have done some slight re-writing, and added links, to help this stand on its own. Thanks for the inspiration, Jud!

I mostly agree with Jud Bennett's post this morning at First State Politics: How to make Blogging truly legitimate?

Frankly, I hate published anonymity, especially when people take mean spirited shots at others or about any significant issue.

I have made similar arguments in the past, but I have come to think there may be a legitimate place for what I think of as "somewhat anonymous" blogging.

The problem with forcing people to blog as themselves all the time is two-fold. First, it is forcing people to do something, which I'm not crazy about. And, second, the cloak of anonymity may, in certain circumstances, work to our advantage as readers.

I am not a Libertarian, though I place value on some libertarian precepts. I don't think we should have complete personal freedom tempered only by common sense and decency. Let's face it, some people are assholes. Some people are stupid. Some people are violent. Some are all three. There should be some laws and societal controls to help us temper our nasty habits.

This is part of why we have religion. This is part of why we have government and laws. This is why we have etiquette and shame.

But speech is not violence, or fraud, or thievery. Yes, there are many many anonymous dickheads on the internet who spoil discussions, deface news stories, and probably could use a good thumping. But we are not really hurt by their actions. Annoyed, yes. But not substantially harmed.

Meanwhile, there are people who can say things anonymously that they cannot say as themselves. Often these are things that are important and useful. Some may fear to speak before their employers or families. Some may also be so painfully shy as to be unable to participate fully as "themselves." And a little fogging of on-line identity helps us remove the old filters of race, sex, and nationality that can sometimes stand between a person's words and our understanding of those words.

There is an honorable history of anonymous (or pseudonymous) publication; the pamphlet Common Sense and The Federalist Papers spring to mind. There are others.

Also, while I may not know exactly who "Disbelief" is when he is at home, or who "LetMyPeopleKnow" is (though I have some suspicions), I have come to know them through their comments on blogs and the News Journal web site. There are many people I have "met" in this way on-line. When I see their comments they fit for me into a pattern and a history of discussion, and so I can make sense of their ideas (or know to discount them).

Some of these folks are people whose comments I read with interest; while I may disagree with them, I have respect for their thoughts. Some others I know, from past experience, to be trolls, fools, or jackasses. The point is, I can make a judgment, based on past knowledge. So, while I couldn't pick them out of a crowd, I do know who they are, on-line.

This is different from those who comment as "Anonymous." The postings of these people, who lack even the courage of a consistent nom-de-web, I hold in lower regard. Except, sometimes, an "Anon" will throw-in a very funny one-off line that makes me smile. (An exception? That rule must true)

I've written before about my personal credo, distilled from years of thought and study: "Try not to be an Asshole." (It looks like I tempered my language a bit in that posting) I try to let this guide my time on-line. I also use it as a yardstick against which to measure the comments of others.

We all have to make a choice about how to handle our on-line identity. I have chosen to always post and comment as Mike Mahaffie, or mmahaffie. Across all of the web. And, despite temptation from my dark side, I have not broken that vow since I made it (to myself) several years ago. Others have chosen and stuck with usernames (handles) and have established on-line identities under those names. I think there is a legitimate place for this approach.

I spend time on an on-line community called MetaFilter, where there are more pseudonymous users than not. The community of users, as it grows to know these people, learns who to trust, who to ignore, and who they should bother to argue with. When someone tries to "troll" a thread (start a fight, derail the discussion, etc.), they are fairly quickly quieted, either by being ignored (the best approach) or by comment-moderation (a fairly rare, but sometimes needed, form of policing).

Sometimes, they succeed in starting a fight and the community relearns an ancient lesson: "Don't feed the trolls."

We are human, and there will always be name-calling, mean-spirited insults, and deep, deep stupidity. It’s part of who we are. When we come together in communities, though, we tend to temper what is worst in us through all of the ancient mechanisms of community: mutual support and understanding, deference (and challenges) to wisdom, and the power of shame and disapproval. These mechanisms are different, on-line, but they are there.

So, while we should deplore the trolls, we should also avoid getting into needless fights with them. We must expect better of ourselves, and of others, but we lead best by example. Try not to be an asshole.

Our politics just now are very contentious. There will be fights. Let us try to make them about issues of substance. Here’s a rule we might try to agree on: any posting that uses pejorative terms about a political opponent (personally or as a group) should simply be ignored.

Think of all the blogs we would no longer have to read.

I Guess Everything IS Bigger in Texas

The old-photo blog Shorpy has a post up this morning showing a 1914 photograph of a municipal Bat Roost in San Antonio, Texas. It took me a few moments to notice the man standing on one of the cross-timbers of the structure and to realize just how large the thing is. We don't see timbers that large much anymore. Certainly not in utility construction. Have a look also at the close-up of the posted explanation and anti bat-slaughter ordinance.

Update: According to Dave, over at Shorpy, the supports that I took for timbers are in fact poured concrete. I'm disappointed to have been wrong, but still impressed at the size of the Bat Roost.

It Has Been a Colorful Fall

With the return of some sunshine today, I made an effort to capture a photo of one of those bright red or yellow trees that we've been seeing the last week or so.

Somewhere, there's a tree with leaves that have turned so deeply they shine like rubies. It stands alone in a field or someone's yard with darker-hued and taller trees ranged behind. The sun hits it square causing the leaves to flash crimson against a deep green background.

I know it is out there, I just need to find it.

On my way to Dover this morning I was ahead of schedule. I took the opportunity to turn right at Milford Neck and head towards Thompsonville and South Bowers. I found a few spots that hinted at what I was looking for. But not quite.

I took a walking lunch in Dover. When clouds were out, the wind was cold and raw. The sun came out, though, and made a brisk walk comfortable. I found a few street trees that came close.

The yellow tree at one end of the old Green (right) might also be a candidate.

I didn't find the exact tree I wanted, but had a good photo-walk. I met a squirrel who suspected me of planning to steal his winter stash of nuts. I finally got a shot of the cross atop Wesley United Methodist Church; I've been looking for the right angle for some time. And I caught a nice image of the flag that flies at the memorial at the junction of Kings Highway and State street, just off of Loockerman Street.

I'm still looking for the shot that means "Fall, 2007" to me.