28 July, 2025 5 5 Comments

Good Trouble…

July 28, 2025 By 5 Comments

“Do not get lost in a sea of despair,” John Lewis tweeted almost exactly a year before his death. “Do not become bitter or hostile. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble. We will find a way to make a way out of no way.”

We recently marked the fifth anniversary of Congressman  Lewis’ death from pancreatic cancer at the age of 80.
Rep. Lewis, a civil rights icon, was famous for urging people to get in what he called “good trouble.”
I watched his funeral from a bed in Bethesda Hospital where I was fighting for my life after contracting Covid. That was bad trouble.  But I remember being inspired by the words of those mourning a great man.
It’s been an impactful five years for all of us.
We’ve experienced a pandemic, J6, rampant inflation, market volatility, war, natural disasters in places we thought were relatively safe (western North Carolina), toxic politics not seen in our lifetimes and divisions in our society that were once unimaginable.
We’ve been through a lot.
I have a feeling that we’re not done—there are more shoes to drop, more hits to absorb, more opportunities to tear at the seams of what used to bind us.
I also have a sense that a great many people are sick and tired of the nonsense and anxious to get to a place where we can stop fighting and get about the business of living. We inherited a wonderful country built by generations who moved mountains, who strived to create a more perfect union. To tear it apart is sinful. To those who say we are fixing things, consider this: if half the country feels left out, ignored, bullied and hated we aren’t fixing anything. The answers do not exist on either extreme, the way forward is together and that requires compromise, tolerance and bipartisanship. Both parties have failed us. We, the people, deserve better.
I’m just back from a few weeks in Maine. 
I love my time off the treadmill, its restorative, relaxing and grounding. 
The beauty of New England is stunning. There are rocky coastlines, lush woods, mountains, streams, waterfalls and flowers everywhere. 
There’s also history, culture, walkable little towns and architecture that feels very much like America. 
I feel rooted there.  I’m a native New Yorker who has spent nearly 40 years in South Florida but for some inexplicable reason I feel at home when I’m wandering around New England. 
I’m “from away” and therefore will never be considered a Mainer.
I’m OK with that.
When I’m there I want to be respectful of my surroundings. I’m here to experience a special place. I’m here to respect and appreciate it. 
I felt the same way about Florida when I arrived on July  27 1987, a year out of school and just getting started in life. 
I came to South Florida to appreciate and enjoy a place I saw as affordable paradise at the time. Coming from the gray skies of upstate NY where I went to school and got my first newspaper job to The Sunshine State was like waking up from a black and white world to a world of bright colors. 
Florida was warm, fresh, the skies were brilliant, the ocean awesome and the palm trees were inviting. I had entered a world of tropical beauty. It just felt surreal to me, in all the good ways. Life here felt limitless, relaxed and easy. 
When I stumbled upon Delray it called to me. 
It also felt like home. 
In the late 80s, the village was more than a little scruffy. The beach was beautiful, the downtown was dead, but there was a downtown and there were some very rough neighborhoods. But there was potential and the vibe felt like something significant and cool was about to happen.
There was also an inclusive feeling in the air, a message of “roll up your sleeves, get involved, we want you to be involved” aimed at everyone willing. 
I fell. 
Hook, line and sinker. 
I was a newspaper reporter in those days. My job was to tell the story of my new home. And I relished every moment. There was so much to tell, so much going on, the place was brimming with aspiration and the message was let’s make some “good trouble.”
And lots of people did. 
They came from Pittsburgh and created festivals. 
They came from Illinois and built a modern day fire rescue system. 
They came from Orlando and helped to build a police department second to none and they came from Belle Glade and replaced blight with art, culture and community. 
I watched another native Illinoisan become a model mayor, saw a rebel looking kid from Indiana redefine the ocean front real estate market and guys from Maryland, Massachusetts and Michigan create value in neighborhoods nobody else would touch. 
It was magical to watch and write about. 
It was impossible not to get involved and swept up in the evolving story of this place. 
A generation was making good trouble…not all of it was perfect, maybe none of it was, but it was something to behold. And cherish. 
It’s more than placemaking, it’s making a place. 
I miss those days. For my town and my country. I know I’m not alone. 
14 July, 2025 10 10 Comments

Finding That Special Spot

July 14, 2025 By 10 Comments

A “sit spot” is a place for contemplation.

I follow a guy on Facebook whose posts almost always make me think.

In the often-mindless sea of drivel on social media, this guy’s posts stand out.

They are poetic, soulful and intelligent.

Truly good stuff—material that makes you stop what you’re doing so you can ponder.

It feels good to ponder.

I went to high school with this guy 40 plus years ago on Long Island.

We were friends, not especially close; but I always thought he was a cool guy. He played guitar and always seemed self-assured—not an easy feat when you’re 17 and trying to find your way.

This guy, somehow he seemed older. More sophisticated than me and my gang. He most likely was more cultured–after all, our idea of intellect was glancing at Cliff’s Notes and pretending we read the often boring books we were assigned in English class. We preferred Sports Illustrated over Chekhov.

And Kafka…he didn’t appeal to our pedestrian tastes either. I think we read The Trial. I know we read Animal Farm. But to be honest, we were more interested in seeing if we could steal glances at our dad’s discarded Playboy magazines—tame stuff by today’s standards. And no, we did not read the articles.

But I digress.

My friends and I took a class called “Inference and Argument” and we did exactly the minimum to get by, not an ounce more.

It’s something I’m ashamed of now –skating by in school– not paying attention to what was important. I guess that’s part of being a kid. But it’s no excuse and I wish I had taken my formal education seriously.

But my friend —the guitar playing intellect —-well, he seemed different. At least I recognized that.

When you’re a kid you spend your days searching for yourself; trying on new identities to see what might fit.

As a result, when you stumble across someone who seems to know who they are it stops you cold. For all I know, my old friend was lost too.  But he seemed self-assured and that’s what I noticed.

Anyway, decades fly by, and you lose touch with all but your core friends. That’s the natural rhythm of life. We make room for others. We evolve- if we’re lucky.

Then Facebook comes along and suddenly you ‘re-up’ with people you haven’t seen since the day you flipped your tassel and threw your mortar board into the air.

I reconnected with the guitar playing intellect and slowly got hooked on his poetic posts.

He still plays guitar , got remarried to someone he loves deeply and had a baby with her just a few years ago.  At our age, that’s optimism.

All of it is fascinating—poetic posts, music, babies, a passionate new love. This 60 something is inspiring!

I’m glad he didn’t peak in 1982; I know a few folks who did.

He did not stay rooted in the glory days of racing cars down Nicolls Road, eating pizza at Mario’s and drinking on a fake ID in Port Jeff.

Those were good days, but the rest were even better if you’re lucky. I count myself to be one of the fortunate ones.

But I digress again.

Which finally brings me to the point of this rambling essay.

My guitar player friend recently posted about something called a “sit spot”. I had never heard the term.  So I looked it up and it refers to a special place where you can go and gather your thoughts.

I like that concept, and I have a sit spot sort of. It’s in Lake Ida Park. I say sort of cause it’s not just one spot, it’s more an area within the park that I can go and collect my thoughts.

I went there after I learned my mother was sick and again after she passed. I went after my divorce and again when we had a fatal shooting when I was mayor.

I went after 9/11 and on Oct. 7 after learning what had happened in Israel.

I’ve been there a lot this year because I’ve lost several friends—a few before their time. And truth be told, there’s never enough time.

After reading the ‘sit spot’ post I had a dream about a place in the woods in what might have been Maine, which has become my happy place. A place I breathe better and feel most relaxed. I’m writing this while sitting in my kitchen in Portland, windows open, (fresh air is better than air conditioning), the birds are singing and its green—everywhere.

Anyway, I woke from this dream content. I wrote down these words to capture that feeling. That fleeting peaceful, easy feeling.

Here it is…thanks my guitar playing intellect friend. You continue to inspire this now aging man who remains a fan. P.S. what I hope you are about to read was just selected to be included in an anthology of poems being published by a group called Fresh Words. My first published poem.

You wouldn’t even notice it, not if you weren’t looking.

A little clearing, barely marked — just a dip in the trail where the moss thickens and the trees lean in like they’re sharing secrets.

There’s a ledge there, cool and smooth, carved by time and rain. My sit spot.

I don’t go there with an agenda. Not anymore.

At first, I thought I was supposed to do something — solve a problem, find clarity, reach peace.

But this place doesn’t ask that of me. It just asks me to stop.

To be.

Some days I sit, still as stone, and watch the wind make ripples in the canopy above.

Other times, I lie back on that ledge, stretch my arms out wide, and let the sky press down gently on my chest —

like it’s reminding me I’m small, but not alone.

The birds come and go, flickers of motion and music.

A squirrel chatters like I’ve interrupted his sermon.

Even the ants do their work with purpose, like they know something I don’t.

There’s a rhythm to the forest — not rushed, not lazy. Just… true.

When I’m here, I remember what it feels like to be a part of that rhythm.

To breathe like the trees breathe.

To think less and feel more.

I’ve cried here, laughed here, done nothing here.

It’s held all of it. No judgment.

Just silence, and green, and sky.

This is my sit spot.

Not mine like I own it — no, more like… I belong to it.

And when the world gets too loud, too fast, too sharp,

I come back.

And it remembers me.

2 December, 2024 11 11 Comments

25 Days of Kindness

December 2, 2024 By 11 Comments

I saw a beautiful story the other day in “Downeast” magazine that I feel compelled to tell you about.

It seems that whenever I write about kindness it resonates. I hear back from you and that’s really cool.

Truth is, if nobody read this blog I’d write it anyway. But I have to admit that when you respond it’s special.

The story I read was about a police chief in Holden, Maine. Chief Chris Greeley passed away last year at the young age of 60. But he left a legacy that will ensure he will be remembered for a long time to come.

In 2017, he launched an initiative called “25 Days of Kindness,” which asked his officers to perform simple acts of kindness for the 25 days leading up to Christmas.

It could be as simple as buying someone a cup of coffee or giving a stuffed animal to a child or something a little larger like paying someone’s heating bill, which can be costly in a place like Maine.

The 25 Days of Kindness was an instant hit and soon neighbors and businesses got in on the kindness movement donating cash, gift cards, toys, clothes and the like. It became a legacy for not only the Holden Police Department, but the Town of Holden itself. There’s now an organization called 25 Days of Kindness. Here’s a link to learn more: https://25daysofkindness.org/

Chief Greeley believed that one small gesture could change a life. He was right. To date, 25 Days of Kindness has completed 10,115 acts of kindness and now serves 25 communities.

I think kindness is contagious. As a mentor of mine used to say: “good begets good.”
Indeed.

Locally, a civic hero named Chuck Halberg models this spirit. Chuck just organized a Thanksgiving turkey drive ensuring our first responders got to enjoy a little bit of the holiday while protecting and serving us. He and others are now all about getting toys for the kids who otherwise would go without.

Every act of kindness is powerful. Every act of kindness has the potential to create a ripple effect of goodwill. That’s a sentence I borrowed from the 25 Days of Kindness website because I believe in that sentiment with every fiber of my being.

I’ve seen it happen.

I think kindness is an underrated attribute. It doesn’t cost much, but it’s worth everything.

 

28 August, 2023 8 8 Comments

Making Sense Of Place

August 28, 2023 By 8 Comments

Beautiful Cape Elizabeth….

I’m seeing another state.

We’re in the early stages of a relationship, but I can see myself getting serious about Maine.

This summer marked 36 years of living in South Florida, with most of that time spent in Delray Beach.

I’ve spent just about my entire adult life in Florida and the Sunshine State has been very good to me.

I’ve made the greatest friends here; have experienced so much and have learned a lot since leaving New York in July 1987 in a rickety 1978 Toyota Corolla.

Little did I know what was in store for me.

We seldom do.

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

I thought I’d be a newspaper lifer.  I felt it was my calling and I dreamed one day of owning my own paper.

When I sat in the back row in Commission Chambers reporting on Mayors Doak Campbell, Tom Lynch and Jay Alperin, I never dreamt I would do that job.

In fact, I used to joke around with former Boca News reporter Darcie Lunsford that she would be mayor one day. I volunteered to be her campaign manager. (P.S. Darcie would have made a fine mayor.)

But life is strange in so many ways. It’s the twists and turns that add flavor. The twists and turns….

I turned 59 Saturday. The same age my mother was when she passed.

That number has weighed on me since she died in 1998.

She was young when we lost her; but now that I’ve gotten to this age it feels odd. The truth is at 59 you feel old and young all at once—hard to explain, but if you know, you know.

By this time in life, you’ve travelled a lot of miles, seen many things, and learned and re-learned a bunch of lessons. Life could look completely different in three years, three months, or even three days. That’s the terrifying and beautiful thing about being human.

Yes, perhaps the most profound lesson is how fast life can change. Three years ago, I felt a little tired. I took a Covid test at Bethesda and that night I was in a fight for my life that would last 39 days.

Who knew from bats, Wuhan and pandemics?

Three weeks ago, we lost Carl DeSantis, a wonderful soul who changed the lives of so many people; me included.

And so, I am reminded about the role that serendipity plays in our lives. I had no idea that someone whose vitamins my dad sold in his pharmacy would play such a large role in my life.

When I gassed up that old Toyota in Binghamton, N.Y. I had no idea what awaited me. I just wanted sunshine, palm trees and to live near my best friend. I got that and more.

I tasted local politics, helped run a beverage company, worked in public relations, was founding editor of a local magazine, did a whole lot of consulting and even co-owned a local newspaper for a while.

I’ve loved it all.

Along the way, I took a deep dive into the community. I got involved with a capital I.

Education, economic development, business, the arts, and health care—I learned a little bit about a whole lot.

And I fell in love with this place. I fell hard.

Most of my activities were in Delray, but I’ve also been involved in Boca, Boynton, Palm Beach County, Broward County and in statewide organizations such as Leadership Florida and the Florida Redevelopment Association.

I list these things to encourage you to get involved in the community. It’s your community and we all need to pay our civic rent.

My experiences through the years have been rewarding in ways that I could never adequately quantify. I’ve met just about all my Florida friends by getting involved. So if you aren’t involved in something, you may want to consider volunteering. It makes the world a lot less lonely and infinitely richer.

That said, I find myself needing and seeking both more and less.

Let me explain.

I want more time with loved ones.

I want more time working on fewer projects that have deeper meaning.

And I want less quantity and more quality.

I also want to experience other places— namely Maine.

I’m seeing Maine—for bits and pieces of time—the greater Portland area to be specific, and I find myself falling in love with a place all over again.

Oh, I still have fidelity to the sunshine. I still love the Florida sky, the beautiful sunsets and walks with our dogs along Lake Ida on mornings when it’s not scorching hot outside.

I take great pride in the evolution of Delray Beach and the role my friends and civic heroes played in our city’s success.

Despite the stifling heat, rising cost of living and ridiculous politics you find in Florida, I still feel the good outweighs the bad. Those palm trees and mild winter temperatures will always thrill this native New Yorker.

But I want to see other cities too.

About two years ago, we bought a cozy little townhouse in a wooded section of Portland not far from Old Port. It was a post Covid promise we made to ourselves. Sort of a “tomorrow is here” recognition of life’s frailty.

I recently spent a few blissful weeks there enjoying cool breezes, lighthouses, the rugged coastline and squirrels the size of big cats. These are precious days spent with the love of my life, family and friends.

I love the small villages of Biddeford, Saco, Bath and the Kennebunks which ooze charm and character.

I like getting lost in the huge cemetery up the street that has gravestones dating to the Revolutionary War.

And frankly, I like not knowing anyone other than a few neighbors and the kind strangers you bump into along the way.

I still can’t look at a lobster or eat a steamer, but I sure love Allagash beer.

It feels good to explore a new part of the world. To learn the stories, read the history and wonder about the visionaries who made this place all that it is.

I have no desire to get involved here. But I do want to explore.

I want to experience this place. Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll pay some civic rent.

I’m not talking about starting a “Save Portland” Facebook page, but maybe I’ll change my status to “in a relationship with Delray and Portland.”

Wherever you are, I hope you fall in love.

Thanks for reading.

Bill Fay Jr.

Note: Delray lost another local treasure with the passing last week of Bill Fay, the retired principal of Banyan Creek Elementary School. I adored Bill. His humor, his love of children and his passion for education. He was a good man—despite his admiration for the Boston Red Sox (only kidding). As a New Yorker and a Yankee fan, you would have thought that his affinity for Boston sports would have been a deal breaker for the two of us.  But Bill proved that oil and water can mix. He gave me the business when his Sox were riding high, and I loved him for it.

When Bill retired in 2015, I wrote the following blog http://yourdelrayboca.com/the-one-the-only-bill-fay/

If you don’t want to click through, I’ll leave you with this thought from the blog: “Every now and again in this world you run into a larger-than-life figure.

Someone whose spirit lights up the room and whose humor, intelligence and warmth make you feel like you’ve known him forever.

Bill Fay is that kind of guy. In fact, he’s the epitome of that kind of man.”

At the time, I wished Mr. Fay decades of life to enjoy his family and legion of friends. Alas, he got less than a decade. I wish he had more time. I adored that man. He made a difference for generations of children. Rest in Peace my friend.

7 August, 2023 2 2 Comments

The Heat Is On

August 7, 2023 By 2 Comments

Reminiscent of our politics. Locked in combat, where all “sides” lose.

Congratulations you have just experienced and survived the warmest month in the history of the world.

 Yep. It’s in hot out there.

The ocean temperatures off the coast of Florida have reached hot tub levels.
We are using phrases like “ heat dome”, a description I had never heard before this year but now you can’t turn on the news without hearing those words.
I don’t know about you, but I find the situation daunting.
I’m writing this from the comforts of Southern Maine, where this morning the temperature was 58 degrees.
I’m here for a few weeks in large part to escape the heat. After 36 years living in South Florida, the heat and humidity have officially gotten to me. I don’t like it.
I’m fortunate to be here, and I certainly don’t mean to rub it in, but I am beginning to believe that all of us in our own way will be doing what we can to avoid the heat.
I think we will look back on the summer of 2023 as the year where climate change became real for a majority of people who are experiencing what it means and how it will impact our lives.
I’m hearing reports of local businesses altering hours because of strained A/C systems and watching the comments from friends on social media about their frustration with day after day of 100 plus degree days if you consider the “heat index” the final word, and I do.
Yes, 2023 is the year we will look back on.
But what will we do about it?
That’s always the question isn’t it?
Here in Maine, there is a big push to install heat pumps to get homeowners off heating oil.
They are talking about an influx of residents from warm weather states, climate refugees moving here to avoid the heat.
There is worry about the  heat here as well, with Portland recently setting a few records.
Maine may grow in popularity as a result of the changes we are seeing.
But for places like Florida and Arizona, the heat poses a threat to future economic growth.
Futurist David Houle recently caused a stir with a series of predictions about Florida’s future which used words like environmental collapse, and mass migration out of the state.
Houle himself is moving from Sarasota to Chicagoland, in part to escape the heat and what he sees as a toxic political environment with leadership putting their own agendas above the state’s welfare.
While Houle is a highly respected futurist, I think some of his predictions may be a bit overblown. But only a bit.
Our climate is a challenge.
I’m a great believer in innovation and in humankind’s ability to adapt.
 But the first step toward solving a problem is acknowledging you have one. The second step is working together to find a solution.
Right now, we are doing neither.
Sigh.
In Freeport, Maine LL Bean has a flagship store with a rather sad but fascinating display. The exhibit is called “The Final Charge” and it features two bull moose whose antlers became entangled. Sadly, the moose died and now these majestic creatures are preserved by taxidermy for shoppers to gawk at.
Honestly, I find it sad and emblematic of what happens when opponents fail to compromise. Both sides starve. And both sides die.
And that’s where we seem to be these days on so many issues large and small, including climate change which I believe is the biggest issue of all.
But maybe just maybe we will find a way to work together to save our planet.
 The heat of 2023 may just be the tipping point that spurs action  and innovation. This record setting summer—still burning on- is just the beginning.
We’ve been warned and warmed. It’s time to do what we can to save the only home we will ever have.

[Read more…]

1 August, 2022 6 6 Comments

Both Sides Now

August 1, 2022 By 6 Comments

What do you see in those clouds?

“Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I’ve looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It’s cloud illusions I recall

I really don’t know clouds at all.”

Those lyrics from the Joni Mitchell classic were in my head these last few weeks when I spent some time exploring idyllic small towns in Maine. I’m not really sure why, I haven’t heard the song in years but there it was as I found myself in Kennebunkport which is impossibly beautiful, Boothbay Harbor which teems with charm, Bath which bills itself as Maine’s coolest little city (and just may be), Brunswick with the bucolic Bowdoin College and Cape Elizabeth whose beauty defies description.

In a word, Maine is enchanting, and I find myself falling in love with a place all over again  and realizing that “place” as a concept means a lot to me.

Of course, people are paramount  (with golden retrievers a close second) but place is up there in importance —at least for me.

I’ve been here for a month and that’s enough time to see a few nooks and crannies and to think “hey, this place feels good.” I can see myself spending time here. It’s a good place.  And place is important.

I’m coming back to Delray this week and that’s good too. I’ve never done anything like this before —working remotely so far away from home—but post Covid I’m ready to live life and ready to shake it up a little. I’m ready to indulge some dreams.

If not now, when?

After all, I love it when friends pursue their passions.

My childhood friend  Joe is a nationally ranked “one wheeler” in his age group and loves the sport. He lights up when he talks about his experiences on trails and hanging with the one wheel community.

Another buddy  Ben just came back from a  bike trip in Europe—50 miles a day —and while the mere thought of that makes me sore, Ben would and could do 100 miles a day if he could. He’s always been an adventurer.

While I was looking at clouds on Casco Bay my brother from another mother Scott was coaching baseball and recently took his champion Virginia based team to a major tournament in Tallahassee. They didn’t win, but they are still champs and I’m certain Scott is a great coach just like his dad was; they had a passion for baseball and people too.  That’s an unbeatable combination.

Me, I like to write and explore  places and topics  that interest me.

I came to Maine to fulfill a vow I made to myself when I had a serious case of Covid that landed me in the ICU two years ago.

It’s time to start living—time to see the other side of those clouds that Joni sings about.

Those clouds can get in the way or they can be anything you want them to be.  Two years ago they rained on me pretty hard leaving me alone with my thoughts, hopes, fears and dreams.

I realize I’m privileged to have this experience and fortunate to work for a company that values quality of life and family.

I spend my days grateful for so many things; the beauty that surrounds me, the love I get to enjoy with my wife, family and friends and the simple pleasure of being able to breathe freely again.

This time of year I relive my Covid experience and remember when I could barely draw a breath. Yes, I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now.

Most of us have by the time we hit a certain age. Because while life is precious and beautiful, there’s just no escaping the tough times.  Nobody goes through this life unscathed.

Which brings me back to the concept of place.

Here I enjoy the woods, the rocky coast, the pristine Casco Bay, the architecture and the history.  I also enjoy the kindness.  People here are very nice even through we’re “from away” and even though I’m driving a Subaru with Florida plates.  (P.S. every other car here is a Subaru it’s uncanny).

But as I get ready to return to Delray, my home now for 35 years, I look forward to those Florida sunsets, the magnificent skies and even the cloud bursts that mark our endless summer months. I love Florida and value my now 35 years in the ever changing Sunshine State.

But I do wish more would love her too.

One thing I’ve noticed in Maine is a fierce sense of civic pride.

Mainers love this place, Portlanders really love Portland and in nearby Biddeford they are planning some really special things and they are excited to tell the world.

That’s the vibe everywhere we wandered.

When I visited a store in Kennebunkport the young proprietor told me that many of her friends were returning home to do “cool things.” That’s how it should be, I thought to myself. That’s what you want to hear about a place.

And I thought, you know, we’re kind of tough on Boca and Delray aren’t we?

We complain…a lot.

Too much this and too much that and yes there are serious issues. But…you know what? We live in a magical and cool place. We really do.

Joni was on to something. Maybe we need to look harder to see both sides now.

 

29 November, 2021 0 Comments

Show A Little Love For SoFla

November 29, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Lake Ida Park is a local gem. A great place to walk, play with your dog and enjoy the wildlife.

We recently bought a small escape place in a wooded setting in Portland, Maine.

Having a getaway in Maine became a bucket list item a few years back when Diane and I visited the state to celebrate my 50th birthday. We fell in love with the southern Maine coast. It’s breathtaking.

After a bout with Covid and the painful loss of a few family members and friends who are gone too soon, Diane and I realized that we need to start doing some things we’ve longed to do —right now. Tomorrow is just not guaranteed. That’s a poignant lesson to learn but it’s also freeing in many ways. It’s time to live a little.

While I have always enjoyed traveling, at this stage of the game, I would much rather get to know a specific place. I want to fall in love again. Portland, you’re it.

When you are getting to know a place it’s natural to want to read all you can about it, so I subscribe to Portland Monthly, DownEast, Maine and Yankee magazines.

I read the Facebook pages, follow the Instagram accounts devoted to Maine and scan the headlines in the Press-Herald. It’s fun to learn the history, read the ads, scan the restaurant reviews and follow the ebbs and flows of a new place.

We dream of spending time in our new digs and having a second home will create healthy pressure to take some time off.

We are beginning to be in touch with our new neighbors and it’s exciting to think of the new places we can explore. Of course, Maine has its Delray/Boca connections too and we look forward to seeing our local neighbors in a new locale.

One thing that I’ve noticed when I read the magazines is the loving prose devoted to all things Maine. The descriptions of nature, towns, local businesses, and local characters are rich in details and brimming with civic pride.

Frankly, I think it contrasts with what I see in our local media which is often full of criticism for Florida and our beloved Delray Beach and Boca Raton.

We see laments about rude people, bad drivers, bad service, traffic and all the rest.

Yes, there’s truth to the kvetches (that’s Yiddish for complaints). I’ve been known to kvetch myself from time to time. Ahem….

But friends, South Florida is paradise—at least in wintertime. The weather is sublime, the breezes are refreshing, the ocean is beautiful and there is so much to do and see.

We have a lot to be proud of—a vibrant downtown, great restaurants, some cool new developments, and a very bright future as people flee the taxes and harsh weather of the northeast.

Yes, the summers are brutal. Yes, our politics are often wacky, and we are home to “Florida man” but have you seen Lake Ida on a crisp morning? How beautiful this place is if we can only slow down enough to look.

Have you walked along the beach on a cool winter morning and wondered about those poor people freezing in places like Pittsburgh and yes— Portland, Maine?

Aren’t you excited to see some new restaurants in Mizner Park, have a drink on the roof of The Ray Hotel and marvel at the cool companies flocking to South Florida?

We have a lot of good stuff going on here.

So, my little side hustle in Maine is not a knock-on life here. It’s just a desire to experience something a little different—with far less humidity.

 

 

8 September, 2014 0 Comments

Back from Vacation: Random Thoughts From the Road

September 8, 2014 By Leave a Comment
Charming, vibrant and walkable.

Charming, vibrant and walkable.

We’re back!

Thanks for indulging us during a vacation and the Labor Day holiday. We hope you had a great few weeks. We missed you.

Random thoughts…

We had a chance to visit Maine last week (Dave went to college at Bowdoin) and came away suitably impressed.

The coastline is gorgeous, the lobster and chowder is ubiquitous and the people are New England friendly.

We hit Portland, Boothbay Harbor, Rockland and Camden and got out on the waters of Casco Bay.

When you’re a recovering journalist, the first things you seek out in a new town are local publications. Newspapers and websites can give you a flavor for a place (much like we hope YourDelrayBoca.com does for our hometowns) and also give you some ideas for restaurants, day trips and shopping excursions. It’s always fun to see the issues that other communities are debating and read about local businesses, artists and people.

When we grabbed a copy of Portland Magazine and opened the page to the editor’s notes we were pleased and surprised to see a picture of Delray’s historic Colony Hotel and a column about how dishes and glassware from Delray often winds up at a sister hotel also called the Colony in Kennebunkport. The article talked a lot about Del Ray (spelled that way, with the space) and described us in kind terms. Colony owner Jestena Boughton would have been proud. We clipped the piece and will send it to her.

We also read a local alternative paper called The Bollard and read about Delray’s Ocean Properties in one of the stories. Ocean Properties, owner of the Delray Marriott and bunches of other hotels, is also a major player in Maine and New Hampshire. It’s indeed a small world and Delray’s tentacles extend Downeast as well.

Another great way to get a feel for a new locale is to walk the city’s streets, not just the main drag but the nooks and crannies. Portland is a great city for doing just such a thing, with cobblestone alleyways, charming old brick buildings and beautiful Victorian homes mixed in with newer development.

Armed with advice from some friends, we tried to avoid the touristy places and sought out local hang outs and live music.

Portland, like Delray, is a vibrant and walkable town. We highly recommend a visit.

 All Hail Barbecue

We were pleased to come back to learn that our friend Scott Kennedy of Union Delray fame, was transforming his popular place into a world class BBQ restaurant he’s calling Smoke.

Pitmaster Bryan Terrell has been hired and he comes with incredible credentials. Terrell hails from Kansas City where he was the original smokehouse manager of the world famous Oklahoma Joe’s.

Anthony Bourdain named that place “one of the 13 places to eat before you die”.

Terrell has also achieved success in the world series of bbq. Now he’s coming to 8 East Atlantic Avenue.

Atlantic’s dining scene can use great barbecue. Smoke is set to debut this month. Stay tuned.

 Food Scene Adds Player

Trader Joe’s opened in Delray last Friday and it’s a welcome addition to the local grocery scene.

As we’ve remarked before, competition is a good thing and with Whole Foods, Publix, Trader Joe’s, Winn Dixie, Wal Mart Neighborhood Grocery, The Boy’s and Fresh Market competing in Boca/Delray we expect to see high quality stores vying for local market share.

P.S. We can still use a public market.

 

Speaking of food…

Finally had a chance to have lunch at The Farmer’s Table in Boca.

This is a must see establishment with a wide array of healthy and natural food choices.

A shout out to FAU’s Kim Gramm of the Tech Runway for ensuring we went there.