Long overdue makeover

So after 20 years of discussion the Atkins Corner $4.6 million roadway project has actually begun. Just in time too, as the Amherst Select Board recently granted Atkins Farms Country Market a beer/wine permit.

A better reminder

The family of Misty Bassi have found a most noble way to honor her short life and remember her long after the Ghost Bike disappeared from the location of her horrible demise almost one year ago.

If there is such a thing as a perfect fit for the Happy Valley Misty Bassi was it. Like a lot of folks, Umass was both her place of employ and place for finding herself through education. Now with this scholarship others like her will have a chance to better themselves the same way Misty did, and if life is fair, get the opportunity to put that degree to work.

Only days after graduating from the University Without Walls program while on route to work on Memorial Day--when most Americans were celebrating a day off, her path intersected with a 75-year old woman driving while distracted by tears.

For Misty's friends and family, the tears continue to this day.

The Republican Reports

A somber reminder

Google and of course Google news were not around fifteen years ago, so news junkies like me had to rely on Bricks-and-Mortar Media, and I always preferred radio for pretty much the same live immediacy we now all take for granted with the all-powerful pervasive Internet.

Driving around doing errands that morning while listening to my favorite station (one I advertised on a lot) WRNX, I hear a breaking news bulletin that apparently something has happened at a Federal building in Oklahoma City--an explosion, but no details.

I had fought at a National 'A' rated Karate tournament there (even got to meet Chuck Norris) about dozen years earlier, and unlike a lot of the major cities I visited while on the national circuit, I found it orderly, attractive and felt extraordinarily safe.

Plus I figured foreign terrorists would pick a much higher profile target like New York or Los Angeles. So the original report about an explosion in front of a building named for somebody I never heard of, was easy to dismiss as just some kids with fireworks.

Done with my errands, the Health Club was particularly busy that day so the next thing I know it's 9:00 PM closing. Turning on my TV at home to whatever channel I had watched the night before, up comes the astonishing video of the Murrah Federal Building building devastated to the core.

The next morning's newspapers all carry that heartbreaking AP front page photo of a rescue worker desperately rushing from the scene cradling a mortally wounded infant.

A Harvard trained attorney friend of mine who always opposed the death penalty changed his mind because of Tim McVeigh: His ice cold comment about the day care center deaths of 19 young children, dismissing them "collateral damage" put him over the top.

"I'll fly out there and voluntarily throw the switch myself," he said angrily.

Turns out they used lethal injection to send Mr. McVeigh to his just rewards. On June 11, 2001 as I lay on a cold gurney at the Amherst Medical Center getting my first shot of cortisone in my arthritic left hip, Dr. Johnson said, "You're going to feel a slight prick." "Yeah," I responded, "the last words Tim McVeigh will hear."

The assisting nurse shuddered saying I was the second patient that day to make reference to what was occurring at the US Penitentiary building in Terre Haute, Indiana.

My doctor said the cortisone shot could be a "magic bullet," and if I'm pain free for three months then it probably did the trick.

That summer I had the best bike training ever (logging over 3,000 miles) for my annual ride up Mt. Washington. On August 25, I posted my best time time ever over ten years (one hour 32 minutes) and as I crossed the finish line 6,288 feet up with my wife not to far behind, I literally felt on top of the world.

I had forgotten the exact date of my cortisone shot and mistakenly thought the three months expired, so I had successfully dodged the surgeons knife.

On the morning of 9/11 (the actual three month anniversary) as I watched those magnificent towers crumble into dust, I couldn't help but notice the unmistakeably dull continuous ache in my left hip had returned...

CNN reports

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Ten days later on April 29, 1995 Amherst's annual Town Meeting kicked off.

I had placed an article on the Warrant calling requesting tax exempt Amherst College and Hampshire College pay the same reimbursement rates as Umass for ambulance services--not one of my more controversial articles; but I had previously pissed off the Moderator with speeches over the years about Cherry Hill Golf or lambasting those numerous "Only in Amherst" measures Town Meeting routinely passes.

So when I walked up to his podium from my front center seat immediately before Town Meeting was to start, he gave me a wary look. I requested that Town Meeting start tonight with a standing "moment of silence" to remember the victims of Oklahoma City. He frowned. Said something about opening night, particularly busy, lots to do, etc.

I looked at him dumbfounded and trudged back to my seat.

A few moments later Amherst Town Meeting stood in unison, silently bowed their heads and for a brief moment, remembered.

Fox News: The terrible sounds of silence

Let's get licking those stamps

While The People's Republic of Amherst is now at the exact overall national average of 69% return for mailed census forms, we still lag behind our conscientious neighbors like Hadley at 76% or South Hadley at 81% or Granby at 83%.

And I would bet those nearby towns also have a better average voter turnout for their local elections as well.

Up in smoke

Not much going on at the Extravaganja rally around noon today on the Town Common. But with the rain and early hour (for avid pot smokers anyway) not a big surprise.

UPDATE: 5:30 PM Obviously things have picked up.


2 years ago. Obviously nobody checks I.D.s

The Umass Collegian reports (they were the only ones who seemed to care)


Wow! CBS TV paid a visit

Just a little off the top

All roads lead to Florida

The Republican Reports

The Gazette has a hilarious article Friday posted on Catherine Sanderson's blog about former Amherst School Superintendent Alberto Rodriguez resurfacing in Florida after his sudden, less-than-amicable departure from the People's Republic up here in the frigid hinterlands.

Turns out the "undisclosed medical condition" that prompted his unannounced trips to Florida last winter was just a--cue the drumroll--hernia. Lucky for him it was repaired Monday, although he may get another one carrying all his ill gotten gains to the bank.

A-Rod is still receiving full pay through the end of May courtesy of Amherst taxpayers--and already has landed another job as principal at Coral Shores High School in Key West. Hired by old pal Joseph Burke, former Springfield School Superintendent pretty much fired by the State Control Board two years ago.

The Springfield School Committee met in secret to extend Burke's contract but the Control Board axed it. For the good of the system, Burke did not file suit and flew south where he obviously landed on his feet.

No big surprise Superintendent Burke would embrace Alberto--after all, Burke was a reference for him when he applied to Amherst. They have concocted a good cover story for his brief tortured tenure in Amherst: the evil School Committee "criticized him about vacation and sick time." Hmm...I thought that was me and the evil blogosphere?!

Plus they cited the women who threatened last summer to burn her tax bill in front of Rodriguez's office to protest his lavish contract. Yeah, gotta watch those women armed with a lighter.

Burke, a white guy, also clumsily plays the race card by pointing out Regional School Committee members who originally hired A-Rod left their positions and were replaced by members who "were not comfortable with him."

I guess from now on whenever the Regional School Committee hires a Superintendent (and apparently that will be a year from now) they should hold a quiet retreat W-A-Y out in the woods of Pelham and, you know, get to like each other. Kumbaya.