Category Archives: Real Estate

Real estate, property consisting of land or buildings, in Newburyport, MA

Too Good to be True

One of the few “life lessons” that I’ve managed to get somewhat into my DNA, is “when it’s too good to be true, it’s too good to be true,” but yet, boy is it tempting. Good grief.

And that truism applies to all sorts of things that so many of us are experiencing in these lousy economic times. Maybe Newburyport frugal Yankees are more suspicious of the “too good to be true” thing, and maybe it’s part of the reason that Newburyport, MA is not experiencing some of the unbelievable pain that some folks are facing. Just moderate pain.

I get a small odd postcard in the mail offering to buy my house, no strings attached. I investigate the website of the mailers of the postcard. Four websites, that I can make out, all looking pretty high scale, compared to the postcard I receive. The return address on the postcard appears to be a house for sale.

Promises of fast closing, fast cash.

Implications of owning a house, with bad credit or no credit.

Red flags are flying in my brain. Isn’t stuff like this what got us into this mess in the first place?

I actually call someone in the government, the US government, and they say stuff like this is now popping up all over the United States, but here it is apparently popping up in Newburyport, MA.

I want to investigate this red flag so much. But, for this blogger, restraint. I call one of my Newburyport journalistic friends instead, and give them the information, hoping that our local Newburyport press could examine the waving red flag that has come, apparently, Newburyport’s way.

Newburyport Stories

I open the present my son gives me for Christmas, a book. A skull with a cigarette on the front cover. My face obviously gives my skepticism away.

“No, Mom, really, he’s on the New York Times best seller list, I promise.”

I feel slightly better when I find out that the skull was painted by my favorite painter, Vincent Van Gogh. To say the least, I am still skeptical.

My son to reassure me, sits me down and reads the first short essay/story. It’s about germs. I’m still not won over.

But after all, this is my own beloved son, and I want to make at least some attempt to appreciate his thought out present to moi. So I plunk myself down in the comfiest chair I can find, and proceed to read the skull book. By the fourth essay/story, I am howling with laughter, and offer to read my son some of the stuff in his now much appreciated present. He declines.

The 8th essay/story is about a New York City woman, who could have been any number of characters that I’ve known so well. And I begin to wonder that maybe these stories have a lot less fiction in them than I first supposed.

And having struggled with, in what fashion to continue the Newburyport Blog, an idea begins to form. Stories, maybe fiction, maybe true, centered around my beloved New England seacoast city of Newburyport, MA, my stories, but hopefully somewhat universal as well as local.

What woman, Newburyport or elsewhere, hasn’t stood in front of the mirror and wondered about “midriff bulge.” Another version of, “Am I fat?”

What one of us, while considering the problem of “midriff bulge,” hasn’t also considered a personal financial fate in these lousy economic times.

Instead of “preaching” about historic preservation, and preserving the historic quality of this wonderful historic town, an experience of what it is like to live in an historic place, day after day, and how that adds to an unquantifiable quality of life.

Instead of talking about how upset I am about specific “restoration” and building projects, why not talk about historic preservation and boob jobs, hoping that people will start rating planning and historic preservation projects as a “double D boob job” as the worst, to a “braless wonder,” at their very best.

In December 2008 I find I am weary of pissing off my fellow Newburyport citizens, living under a constant risk of being sued or being threaten of being sued, and this appears to be a possible solution.

After trying to find every possible book by the skull guy, I finally Google him. And I find that, yes David Sedaris has not only been around for quite a long time, and I am very late to the David Sedaris planet, but also even that he has been on David Letterman a lot, no less, much less a visit to one of my favorites, Jon Stewart. From here on in, I vow to myself, I will trust my son’s taste in literature, even if the cover contains a picture of a skull.

Newburyport Yankee Frugality

So far, fingers crossed like mad, Newburyport, MA does not appear to be as hard hit by these lousy economic times, as is so many other parts of the United States. That’s not to say we haven’t had some pain and there won’t be more pain to come. But as President Obama travels to some of the hardest hit parts of our country, so far, Newburyport, MA does not seem to have those heart wrenching stories.

And in my attempt to begin to fathom what we as a country are going through, I watch, uncharacteristically, the cable business channel. And this time instead of coming across a segment on “shapewear” (see earlier entry), I came across a segment attempting to explain all of this called (I think) “The House of Cards.” I have no idea how accurate this particular explanation is, but I watch it with fascination and horror (the “horror” part they are probably counting on).

What struck me was their emphasis on folks on either end of the foreclosure crisis facilitating the “American Dream.” I can see the American Dream not wanting to be killed in a crime ridden part of the United States. In my book this is a good thing.

But what I could not fathom, was buying, what in my book, looked like a mansion, on a $900 a week salary. Now, my guess is the folks who did this documentary, found this particular example. But what I think, as I understand it, there were a lot of folks leveraging their dwelling, for things that they could not otherwise think of ever affording– a “dream” pool, a “dream” kitchen, a “dream” vacation. A lot of dreaming, that sounded like it was not too in touch with reality. So yes, watching this documentary, when reality raises it’s little head, the impossible dream thing could go out the window.

The version of the “American Dream” that was being described was so far beyond my own definition, that with one exception, I had a hard time feeling sorry for any of the folks, Wall Street or Main Street who were depicted, whose lives were affected. (Again, the documentary could have been wildly eschewed, I don’t know enough about all of this very complicated stuff to make that call.)

But I am very glad to live in what many have referred to, often in not very flattering terms, as a frugal, Yankee community. Our community banks, are doing just fine, in part, I think because they are rooted in reality, verify folks information, don’t sell their mortgages, love and know the community, and if someone wanted an unrealistic amount of lending money to finance a possibly unrealistic “dream,” my guess would be that our community banks would have a kind but firm community chat with whoever that might be.

Bras and Historic Preservation

Flipping through the channels, there appear to be more and more TV shows on plastic surgery. Especially plastic surgery for boobs. Is it size D or double DD? A lowly size C? Never do I hear these young and older women agree to a measly size B. What would be the point (pun intended).

And what the configuration of women’s paraphernalia tells us about our culture at large (see earlier entry on shapewear), much less that we as a culture now have shows on plastic surgery, says something about us, I think.

As I recall in the 1950’s, as I sat watching things like cartoons and racier stuff like “I Love Lucy,” there would be advertisements for “Cross Your Heart” bras that, from what I could make out, looked really, really uncomfortable, and made women’s boobs look unnatural, like less exaggerated, latter-day Madonna cone-shape, shape boobs. It said something about the times.

Later in the 1960’s bras literally went out the window or up in flames. If women actually wore bras, they were more “natural” shaped. This also said something about the times.

Today, it seems to me that the aim of upper women’s wear is to make every woman look like she’s had a boob job, whether she actually has had one or not. Not that I mind, looking like I’ve had a boob job, and not actually having paid for one, maybe that’s not such a bad idea, I don’t know. Upper woman’s wear, thick, molded and not a nipple showing. This, like the new 21st century, girdle, poising as shapewear, to me says something about the times we live in, I just don’t know what. That fake boobs, rather than the old fashion natural ones, are in?

And what in the world do women’s boobs, bras, the configuration of upper woman’s wear have to do with Newburyport, MA? As I mull this over in my brain, sometimes I think that it has to do with the fact that Newburyport, MA, more especially in boom times, is losing it’s lust, more and more, for actual real historic homes. The real thing, real historic homes, seem to be going out of fashion. The façade of historic homes seems to be more appealing.

As I walk through our historic district, I know how many house are replicas of the real thing. Architectural boob jobs if you will. Visually pleasing to the eye, often more easily sold for bigger bucks, but not the real thing.

To my eye, the real thing around town, actual old homes, seem like gems, not small or sagging breasts in need of reconstruction. But I worry that this view point of mine could be called quaint.

I guess one of my hopes in these lousy economic times, is that by the time they have hopefully righted themselves, peoples “values” could have changed, and real stuff, like historic homes in Newburyport, MA would be seen as the gems they were once seen as, rather than a possible opportunity to slash and stuff, a face lift, a boob job, to turn a tidy profit.

Web Design, Newburyport

The idea for the last of the free websites from Mary Baker Design, came from my walks around the historic district in Newburyport, MA. The web design is the “Window Box” website. A portion of the original photograph is at the top of the entry.

For me it is often the preservation of not only large elements, but also the small, sometimes intangible things, that preserve the “soul” of a city. In the photograph of “Window Box” there is one of those things. The window in the photograph is original to the house. Original glass is wavy, has “personality” if you will. A small thing, but when every window looked out of has historic glass in it, the experience adds up. The first house I owned in Newburyport, MA had original windows. And I loved looking out at the world though the window of all the people that had come before me.

The window in the photograph of “Window Box” has a storm window over it, which are often put on windows of historic homes. Storm windows appear to have gone out of fashion, which I think is too bad, because, when I had the privilege of living in an historic home, I thought they worked. In the photograph, you can see the screen on the storm window, as well as what I think of as a quintessential Newburyport, New England curtain.

And then there is of the custom, so loved in Newburyport, MA, of putting flowerboxes in windows all over our small, historic New England city, making it a delight, for people like me, to walk all over town, and appreciate the effort and pride that residence of Newburyport, MA have in their homes and in Newburyport, Massachusetts.

The demo of the free website “Window Box” at Mary Baker Design can be seen here. The web design of the “Window Box” can be downloaded for free here. If you need any help setting up your free web site, please feel free to contact me at Mary Baker Design. A screen shot of the web site is also included in this entry.

Newburyport Walking Season

The seasons of the year dictate when I go on my auto-pilot walk (see earlier entries) through the historic streets of Newburyport, Massachusetts.

During the winter, it’s at the warmest hours of the day, during my lunch break, sometime between 1:30 and 2:30 PM.

At the beginning of the season, before bitter cold and snow may set in, it always feels as if it’s just me and young mothers or the nannies, out to get a breath of fresh air, having bundled up the little ones who lounge in what always looks like extreme comfort, in varying degrees of fancy to not so fancy strollers.

By this time of year, it’s rare that I run into adults with young children. Nap time possibly has happened. Or just plain old exhaustion from bundling up small children for a breath of fresh air.

Instead I seem to hit the time when the “kids” get out of school. What always strikes me, is here are these young men and women, some (young men) literally in shorts. I, on the other hand, am bundled up like Nanook of the North. I always say to myself, “There is something wrong with this picture. There must be some weird medium between shorts at 12 degrees outside in Newburyport, MA, and Nanook of the North.”

And when the weather is like the weather that we have had lately, and no matter how much conscientious shoveling may have taken place, the only passable walking areas in the historic district of Newburyport, MA, are often in the middle of those historic Newburyport streets.

I end my walk at one of the oldest streets in Newburyport, MA, lined with Newburyport ancient saltbox houses. And at the end of the street there unfolds the mouth of the mighty Merrimac River, Plum Island, Salisbury and the expansive Atlantic Ocean beyond. This great vista puts so much in perspective, and I am reminded that I am only one minute piece of an amazing and often awe inspiring puzzle.

And when the weather gets slightly better, walking to downtown Newburyport is once again possible, without constantly jumping out of the way of the mighty automobile.

And I love that moment when historic downtown Newburyport comes into view. I always feel an amazing sense of comfort and peace, that this historic place that has survived so much–fires, depressed economic times, boom times, stands there with so much dignity and composure.

Rhododendron Weather Predicting Qualities

I don’t need to turn on the weather channel or peer at my web weather channel bookmark setting on my computer, to know in the morning when it’s New England cold outside.

When I wake up and my hands feel all crinkly and dry, I know it’s one of two thing. A) I’ve developed some mysterious fatal disease over the last 8 hours, or B) the humidity in the house has dropped because it’s freezing outside.

Since so far it has never been A) I usually figure it must be B).

After a few sips of coffee, I shuffle into my studio (where I’m also trying to madly expand Mary Baker Art by obsessively designing websites to be sent out into the world via the World Wide Web) and peer out my window at my trusty outdoor thermometer. And sure enough, it’s B), the wretched thing reads below 10 degrees, and it’s freezing outside.

I also learned to tell whether it was cold outside, without looking at an outdoor thermometer, by my Dad. As a young girl, by father would take me to the dinning room window, point at the loan rhododendron in the small yard next door, and point out that the leaves on the loan rhododendron were not perky, but shriveled and pointing straight down to the ground. Ergo, my father would point out, it was freezing outside and I better “bundle up.” Sure enough he was always right.

I’ve always been fond of rhododendrons. Maybe it’s the vast array of rhododendrons at Maudslay State Park here in Newburyport, that at one point were subjects of lots of paintings by me. Or, it could be the fond memories of my father’s rhododendron weather science predictions. Or it could be multi-determined.

I’ve planted all sorts of rhododendrons in my small Newburyport garden, and I peer at them on winter mornings, trying to guess the New England temperature, before I shuffle in and peer at my trusty outdoor weather thermometer. My rhododendrons, weather predicting wise, are always right on the money.

However, I’ve noticed that rhododendrons, landscaping wise, in Newburyport, Massachusetts, appear to be going out of fashion.

As I keep squeezing yet one more rhododendron plant in my now rhododendron filled small garden, I notice that huge, literally century old, magnificent and stately rhododendron plants are being hacked out of century old High Street magnificent gardens, not to mention lesser century old rhododendrons in “lesser” Newburyport destinations.

So, either I’m out of touch with new landscaping designs (which is highly probable), or the owners of the dwelling in which these gorgeous rhododendrons are being hacked down, don’t know about their weather predicting qualities. Or maybe they do know about their weather predicting qualities, but figure since they now live in the 21st century, they can watch the weather channel instead.

Insurance, My House is Worth Tons

I get my new home insurance policy and it seems high.

On one of the few transverseable Newburyport winter wonderland days, I wander into my insurance company, introduce myself to the new young lady in charge of insuring my stuff, and declare that the new premium seems “high.”

I also tell her that I haven’t read through the darn thing, I have no idea what’s in it, but promise that indeed I will peruse the document in question.

Also, somehow the subject of “Minnesota” (see previous post) comes up, and a declaration is made that my new young lady insurance person would never think of leaving good old New England. I, of course, think that this is downright dandy, and feel that we have a bond (a good thing to feel that you have with your new insurance lady, which, of course may or may not be true).

A few days later I actually do read the document in question. I find out, that it appears among other things that I am insured for a golf cart that I don’t own, and a boat, that I don’t own either. The insurance company also seems to think that the price of my house has actually gone up. Were that that would be actually true, in these lousy and scary financial times.

So I chat with my new insurance lady and explain that I don’t want to be insured for a golf cart or a boat that I don’t own. I’m told that this is standard policy, but I zone out during the explanation of why this is “standard” stuff.

I’m sitting there wondering, because I haven’t perused the document in question that carefully, what else might I be paying to be insured for. A flock of sheep? An island in the Bahamas? The possibilities are endless.

Also, I’m so used to getting statements from my medical insurance telling me all the things that I’m not insured for, that I’m just not used to being insured for a golf cart that I’m never planning to use, much less never planning to buy.

After the explanation, that I’ve paid absolutely no attention to, because I’ve been wondering what else I could be insured for, I also inform my new insurance lady, that in these times when houses, on a whole, are worth less than they were, let’s say a year ago (woe is me), that there is no way I’m paying what the insurance company thinks my house might be worth.

Silence, the insurance company might not agree.

So, instead of saying something tactful like, “I’m sure you can convince them to come to another conclusion,” I say the sort of thing that makes people wish they worked somewhere else. The sort of thing that instead of putting a smile on a person’s face, they grip their desk when they see you or hear the sound of your voice, and say to their family when they get home, “You would not believe the day that I’ve had!”

Maybe it was reading about being insured for the golf cart thing, but I slipped and pulled what my son would call a “New Yawker.” Lots of explanations on my part, but no excuse.

Newburyport Banks

I stopped by my Newburyport mutual savings bank, which I call one of our Newburyport community banks, and it was business as usual. I asked if they were giving out mortgages, and Yup, yes they most surely are.

And I am so grateful that I have my mortgage with one of the local community banks. Which is what I told them.

One of the perplexing things about this financial crisis, is that institutions that are having trouble don’t know what kind of mortgages they have.

That is because their mortgages have been sold and resold.

And one of the things that I like about our Newburyport banks, and I’ve said this before, is that they are local in the best sense. They know exactly what mortgages they have, and who they lent them to. They do NOT sell them. They keep them, and they make money off them.

They are in great shape.

Responsibility, accountability, commonsense, fiscally sound. Not to repeat myself, but to repeat myself, that’s one great example for the situation that we as a country find ourselves in.

And part of me even hesitates to blog during a financial crisis as big as the one that we are experiencing at the moment. I just could not believe it when the House of Representatives did not pass the rescue bill yesterday and the DOW dropped almost 800 points. Yikes!

And someone described the situation to me this way. It’s a credit problem (one which our Newburyport banks are not experiencing, but obviously one which a lot of others banks are). It’s as if someone turned the water on the water spout, off or down to a trickle so the vegetation could not get any water. Consequences not so good.

It would mean that small business could have problems getting credit for their payroll. Not only might the businesses not grow, they may not be able to pay employees and jobs could be lost.

It could be difficult to get credit for cars, homes, a college education. People’s retirement could be at risk.

So this rescue bill if it does NOT pass, could effect all of us.

I’ve contacted my Representative John Tierney who voted against this bill, and asked him the next time round, in no uncertain terms, to get the thing done and vote for it.

Newburyport Yankee Economics

It was once called “Voodoo Economics.” I believe it was called that by the first Mr. Bush in the Republican primary against Ronald Regan.

I always thought Mr. Bush was right. “Trickle down” economics surely seemed voodooish to me.

I keep coming back to Ronald Regan. Sorry, heresy, I never thought he was a good president. I still don’t. I thought his deregulation economic stuff was a lousy idea. With the huge Wall Street bailout in the works, I wonder what he would think now?

It always struck me as being very un-Yankee like. Newburyport, MA has often been thought of as “Yankee” territory.

We have two “Yankee” banks in town. They do not sell their mortgages, and as a result, because they are responsible for what happens, it’s always been the case, to my knowledge, that if anyone applied for a mortgage, they got checked out pretty good, and had to actually prove that they could pay that mortgage.

“Yankees” tend to save. Coming up with something like coming up with a down payment when buying a house, could be seen as a good thing. Really. It means that the person is more likely to be very committed to making it work.

Our “Yankee” community banking institutions are doing just fine. And it’s because of what some might see as their “thrifty,” commonsense way of doing things.

It used to look sort of old fashion, even frumpy. Not any more. Newburyport Yankee economics is not “voodoo economics.” It works during good times and less than good times.

And it is my very firm opinion that Americans could see a great example by looking at how our Newburyport, MA local, community banks work.

Historic Preservation and New England Churches

Having thought so much about the historic preservation of Newburyport, MA, our small, seacoast New England city, I’ve always thought about residential and commercial architecture. I guess I’ve always taken the picturesque New England churches that populate Newburyport, MA and our surrounding communities and states, for granted.

Maybe this needs some rethinking.

After all in Newburyport one of our downtown churches is now a restaurant. The French Church (Federal Street) was made “recently” into condominiums (see previous posts).

There is a small church on Purchase Street that was made into a one family home, a long time ago. Over the years it has acquired decks overlooking the mouth of the Merrimac River and the Atlantic Ocean, and various beautiful gardens. I no longer think of it as a church that has had a “readaptive reuse,” but as a very interesting looking one family home.

I’ve stopped thinking of the “church” downtown near Newburyport City Hall, that has been made into a restaurant, as a “church.” I think of it now as a restaurant that is also an interesting piece of architecture. It has a different sort of “soul” now.

As the congregations of our New England churches dwindle (see previous posts) and small congregations are left with large historic structures to maintain, my guess is that 10 years from now, the iconic structures that are often taken for granted–many of them may be no more or have “readaptive reuse.” And somehow that would subtly or not so subtly change the “soul” of Newburyport and other New England cities and towns.

This weekend when I was at the Greek Orthodox Church on Harris Street (they have unbelievably wonderful homemade Greek food at a 3 day Greek food festival at the start of Newburyport’s Yankee Homecoming) in Newburyport, I found out a very interesting piece of information that I never knew before.

I remember it well, on August 7, 1983 the old Greek Orthodox Church had the most horrendous fire. It was heartbreaking. But the congregation rallied, and the new church was built.

But the old church was originally built by the 2nd Presbyterian Society of Newburyport in 1796. The Church bell (which survived the fire of 1983) was a gift of “Timothy Dexter, Esquire.” The old church was sold at auction in 1924 and acquired for the price of $6,500 by the Greek Community.

Weathervane Thefts

One of the things that has concerned a lot of folks, in Newbury and Newburyport, MA, is the rumored removal of the weathervane on the top of First Parish Church in Newbury (the beautiful New England Church right across the border from Newburyport on Rt. 1A–see previous post).

Yes, that particular rumor is true. My friends at First Parish tell me, the weathervane did indeed come down. And if it could be worth the kind of money I might imagine it could be, my response would be, “For goodness sakes do not put it back up there. Sell it at auction, it could receive an unbelievable amount of money, and put up a replica instead.”

Why, someone could ask.

Weathervanes, if real, can be unbelievably valuable, and have been stolen from the tops of New England churches and barns for years. I kid you not.

“That is what happened to a weather vane depicting the archangel Gabriel that was stolen in 2003 from White Church in Crown Point, N.Y. It was taken to Fred Giampietro, a folk art dealer in New Haven, who recognized it at once. The theft is being investigated.” From a story in the New York Times, by the Associated Press, August 2007.

“It is ”deceptively simple” to steal vanes, said Samuel Pennington, publisher of The Maine Antique Digest. Vanes turn on a spindle and need only to be lifted inches to remove them..” From another story in the New York Times, July 1988.

“Sometimes the thieves’ ingenuity has been almost as quaint as their plunder. It has been reported that in several cases they hired helicopters to pluck their booty..” from a story in Time Magazine, December 1970.

This has obviously been something that’s been going on for some time. In fact in my brief Googling, I found a reference to it by Homer Simpson (yes, really) and a book on the premise by the Hardy Boys (I kid you not again).

The sale of the First Parish Church weathervane at auction could help keep the church open for another few years, as they continue their struggle to keep spiritually alive.

In the meantime, it would be great if the church could put a preservation restriction on the building, the way Old South Church did in Newburyport, MA. It would also be great, not only if the community rallied round to help preserve this iconic piece of architecture, but also for the church to put the community’s mind at rest, that in the name of “going green,” the historic integrity of this historic landmark would not be compromised.

A-Frame Signs Downtown Newburyport

A-frame signs downtown Newburyport.

When one of my Newburyport City Councilors mentioned that was a major agenda item, my first response was, “Well, if that’s all we have to worry about, things can’t be too bad.”

But then I read the article in the Newburyport Daily News. And yes, A-frame signs could make or break a business. And well, things would be very bad for that business indeed.

If you have an off State Street business or an upstairs State Street business (for those readers who do not live in Newburyport, MA, State Street is the main street going through downtown Newburyport) then yes, an A-frame sign would be a “must have.”

The Tannery has a very classy way of listing all the stores that live there. But, I got to say, I rarely if ever read it. Maybe, possibly, an occasional glance.

I like A-frame signs. They seem to be almost always for local businesses. And they, for me, give a homey and inviting feel to downtown Newburyport, MA. A statement against “high end homogenization.” And quite frankly I often forget that our local tea shop or a yummy chocolate shop is there, and the signs are a reminder. Don’t forget, a little something to make your day just a little nicer.

High Street Master Plan Passes

On Monday night, April 28, 2008, in the Newburyport City Council, the High Street Master Plan passed.

It passed 11-0. Not a peep from anyone. Everyone just sat there and then voted, “Ah,” another words, “yes.”

I expected at least one rant from Newburyport City Councilor Tom O’brien, having listened to his and former Newburyport City Councilor Erford Fowler’s very colorful rants the last time. But no, absolute silence.

So I figured it must be the first reading, and the rants and protests would come later on.

Well, of course I’m going to ask around and find out why this went so smoothly, of course.

And apparently, the High Street Master Plan–as it was read, the restoration of an historic roadway, was not an “Ordinance,” but an “Order.”

I’m still on a learning curve here. An “Ordinance” is a law, and “Order” is a directive, and only requires one reading.

So, “Voila,” the High Street Master Plan actually does pass 11-0. A minor miracle, in my book.

My first question is, can the mayor veto an “Order.” (I ask this question because the previous mayor vetoed the High Street Master Plan, go figure. See earlier entry on “Weird Bike Lane Politics.”) And the feeling that I am getting is Mayor Moak’s approach simply could be, not to fund the project in anyway. Thereby, very politically sidestepping the entire issue. Notice that there is not one mention of High Street, at least that I can find, in his proposed 2 million Capital Improvement Plan.

The only person who spoke in the Public Comments, was a Mom who was very concerned about the danger of the Newburyport High School students crossing High Street, when they get out of school. (And unfortunately this has been an ongoing dilemma, ever since the automobile was invented.)

And as I remember, and I’d have to look again, the compromise that “we” came to was, a “push light” at the corner of Toppans Lane and High Street, where the crosswalk is.

When I talked to the crossing guards when the Bike Lanes first went down, their response was that the only thing that slowed downed motorist around the High School on High Street, was the presence of a cop car. Other than that, people didn’t give a rip.

I mentioned this to one of my Newburyport City Councilors, and suggested somewhat flippantly, that maybe the city could leave an empty cop car, one that isn’t working so well, at the corner of Toppans Lane and High Street during peak get out of school hours.

And I don’t know whether or not they were kidding or not, but the response was, “good idea.”

The passing of the High Street Master Plan, one more milestone in the ongoing, now just about 13 years, High Street restoration saga.

Mary Eaton
Newburyport

Economic Lousiness

Real super doom and gloom on the business and economic pages, web pages and otherwise, as to the doom and gloom of our national economy.

And, yes, this may sound weird coming from me, skeptic (this is a vast understatement) that I have been, but it feels to me that Newburyport, although not completely bullet proof in a lousy economy, would still be a good place to live, work and own a business, and part of that would be to, yup, Stephen Karp, Newburyport’s biggest landowner.

How about that for more weird apples from moi.

Mr. Karp indicated, I believe in his visit to Newburyport, MA recently, that New England Development would be able to ride out less than favorable economic times.

I actually feel like Mr. Karp is a buffer for my beloved home town, after reading stuff after stuff about communities and areas in real trouble.

Who knew that I would ever come to this frame of mind. Not moi.

And the other thing, in the doom and gloom of economic lousiness, is that economic lousiness has always been good for historic preservation, something that the readers of the Newburyport Blog know that I’m real big on.

Terrible economic times in Newburyport, MA during the mid part of the 20th Century, kept people from demolishing and butchering Newburyport’s large stock of historic dwellings.

But in good economic times, according to the National Architectural Trust, “…demolition, development and period inappropriate alterations and additions have effectively replaced one third of these (Newburyport) historic properties.”

As I read the financial stuff (the Huffington Post has become a favorite, who knew about that one either), I keep thinking that so far, Newburyport, MA has been pretty lucky.

Mary Eaton
Newburyport

Fluid Community

More heresy on the part of moi.

“Newburyport According to X” has this to say about Todd Freemont-Smith’s project in back of the Wheelwright property:

“The real kicker is that while he (Todd Freemont-Smith) and his family may live there for decades, they will more than likely, as many who move to Newburyport these days, live there a couple years until they move on to their next business or financial opportunity…”

And, Mr X is right.

I think I’ve gone and am going through a mourning process for Newburyport, MA. I liked it far better before it became an “it” town. But it has become an “it” town. And I am pretty powerless over its growing “it-ness.” So I have a choice, I can be angry and bitter, or I can be curious as to what will transpire.

For a long time my anger at the change to Newburyport’s blossoming “it-ness” felt like sticking a finger in a dike that was bursting all around it. It felt as if I was left with my finger in a small piece of concrete, while the water was gushing down all around me.

Todd Freemont-Smith is part of that gushing water thing. And yes, I agree with Mr. X, Newburyport no longer has become a rooted community, but one in which people stay for a while, or in many cases are forced out, and move on, leaving their mark, good, bad and indifferent.

But Newburyport reflects the larger world in which we live–global and mobile. And it seems that fewer and fewer offspring stay in the place that they were born. And fewer and fewer families, because of so many mobile jobs, can afford to stay in one place for a lifetime or enjoy a generational span.

So, Ok, this is what we appear to have. And what I guess I now hope, is that even as we would become a more and more fluid community, we could agree on the boundaries of the marks that people, who would come and go, could leave. How that would be done, I don’t know.

Mary Eaton
Newburyport

The View of the Wheelwright Property

Oh heretic that I am.

I drove up State Street from the Traffic Circle and took a brief gander (as I’ve been doing for a while, wondering what the heck it is going to look like) at the entrance to the Oak Hill Cemetery where Todd Freemont-Smith is building on the back of the Wheelwright property (see gobs of earlier posts, including the “Rape of the Ridge.”)

And you know what, I thought that the clearing of the woods and the view to the field in the back of the Ridge (which I think was deeded to the Essex County Greenbelt), was, yes, breathtaking. And I’m not being sarcastic here, or anything.

How about them weird apples.

That road to the Oak Hill Cemetery with it’s tangle of trees always seemed very spooky and uninviting to me. And (Whatever help me), I think that opening up that space makes it much more inviting, a whole lot less spooky, and might (heretic I go again) possibly make “upper” State Street a much more inviting “gateway” to the city.

Emails of protest and horror to the Newburyport Blog are unnecessary. I can already hear the very loud “howls of betrayal.”

What also struck me was what an unbelievably difficult hilly terrain that property has, and how difficult it would be to build anything. It’s one thing to see it on maps, it’s a whole different thing to see it “revealed” with all the trees cut down.

So I am actually curious (yes, can you believe it) as to what the project is actually going to look like.

I do have these two plans, dated March 2007. I don’t have anything more recent, but they would give at least an overall “picture” of the project.

Wh1-3_07.jpg

Overall plan, March 2007

Wh2_3-07.jpg

Detail of plan, March 2007

Mary Eaton
Newburyport

Growing Old in Newburyport, MA

I never would have imagined my father’s death, and the last weeks of his life would affect me the way it has.

Yesterday, for the first time in two and a half months, I sat down in front of my easel and painted. And it was a relief.

It won’t last, but like Spring, for me, it was a sign of hope.

Having watched the last five and a half years of “my” senior’s life, I have become passionate about having a place for seniors in Newburyport, MA, that house all the necessary services and activities, as well as making sure that the Director of the Newburyport Council on Aging, who works 24/7 is adequately financially compensated.

And as one of my favorite seniors in Newburyport (not my father) put it, “Mary, there’s nothing ‘golden’ about the ‘golden years.’ The ‘golden years’ suck.”

As a society, we seem to focus, guided by “Madison Avenue,” as they used to say, on “youth.”

Old age appears to be an anathema to the advertising agencies, and we as a society appear to have little tolerance, for the process of aging and the inevitability of death. And for goodness sakes, forget the wisdom and knowledge of our elders. Who has time for that, when in a “Paris Hilton world,” the “flash and gash” have so much more appeal.

I got news for everybody, the ones who are “lucky” enough, will get their “golden” years, and they are going to be just as “sucky” as they were for my Newburyport friend.

And for those people who think that they might not need the services of the Newburyport Council on Aging, collected in the same place, listen carefully, and respectfully to the “process of old age,” because that would be your old age as well.

And for those people who feel that they are wealthy enough, well educated enough to feel that they would not need the services of the Newburyport Council on Aging, congregated in the same place, I’ve got news for you. In life there are no guarantees. There are no sure bets. Period.

And for those out there who might not think that having the services of the Newburyport Council on Aging all in one place, might not be a good idea, I’ve got more news for you–it is not and it will not be “all about you.” The people who are around you, if you are lucky enough to grow older, will need support and education and just plain old help, in helping you with the “sucky” process of growing old.

Am I pissed about all the dithering about where and how to house the services provided by the Newburyport Council on Aging and the lack of respect and support by so many people in Newburyport, MA? Yup, you bet I am. As they say in New York, for goodness sakes, “get off the shtik.”

Mary Eaton
Newburyport

High Street Master Plan and Bike Lanes

My.

I’ve always thought that The High Street Master Plan is inspirational, and quite frankly, a little bit a head of its time, with its emphasis on “green living,” walkable and bikable community, much less restoring High Street to its rightful glory.

But then again, a great many people disagreed with me about those bike lanes (yes, this is a vast understatement).

Full disclosure: Ever since February 1999, I’ve been working towards a High Street Master Plan, and was beyond joyous when the Newburyport Planning Office presented the High Street Master Plan in 2004 to an enthusiastic crowd. And befuddled beyond belief by the convoluted politics that followed, leaving us in “bike lane limbo.”

Do I want this inspirational plan to go forward? Yup, you bet I do. And am I extremely grateful that the Newburyport City Council has put this way up on their “to do” priority list? Yup, you bet I am.

Wow.

Mary Eaton
Newburyport

Stephen Karp’s Visit to Newburyport, MA

I wasn’t at Mr. Karp’s visit to Newburyport, MA (see previous post), and having read all the newspaper articles, blogs and having talked to any number for folks, and having put all of that in a stew in my brain, the following “stuff” has emerged.

It does appear that Mr. Karp did good. As Public Relations go, in fact, of all the many, many ways he could have conducted the evening, it was “brilliant.”

To meet folks in person before hand, I gotta tell you, A+. (Does this blogger feel a little bit arrogant giving a developer of Mr. Karp stature, grades that one receives in High School? Yup, she does.) Being the only one to address the audience, relaxed, joking, in shirt sleeves and taking questions–as my son would say, “classic.” Definitely good go’n Mr. Karp.

Stressing public input and public process, on the record no less, well, this blogger likes this big time.

However, there were a few, “wait a moment” moments for moi.

The stress on the city coming up with a solution to the parking issue.

My first thought was, well, we’ve been fighting over this since the automobile first made its appearance, good luck with that one. I guess nothing is ever going to get built on Waterfront West or East. As my mother would say “tant pis,” or French for “too bad.”

And then I thought, hmm, the best proposed location for a parking garage by far, in my opinion, had been on the Lomardi Oil site, on Merrimac Street, behind the Newburyport police station. The Newburyport Planning Office had come up with a pretty awesome design (it failed in the Newburyport City Council at the time by one vote–in hindsight, it appears to be an “oh dear”).

And Mr. Karp has mentioned that he would not be opposed to a public, private enterprise. So 2 great locations on Mr. Karp’s property. Around the Fitness Factory, but even better, a well designed garage right off of Route 1 where the land going down to Michael’s Harborside is, and where I gather the hotel-condominium is being proposed. I think that the citizens of Newburyport, MA might go for a parking garage on that site. I have a feeling however, that that might not give the bang for the buck that Mr. Karp could be looking for.

There was a “ding, ding, ding, ding” going off in my head, hearing that when the question was asked, who on the development team would be the contact person for the Newburyport public on this project, and that at that time, no one had been appointed.

And on the subject of affordable housing, it sounds as if Mr. Karp drew a blank, and our own Nancy Colbert (Newburyport’ Planning Director), came to his rescue.

On his blog, Newburyport According to X, Mr. Npbt X had some interesting observations about Mr. Karp’s audience. What can I say, I wasn’t there. An interesting read.

And it appears that the audience broke down into three separate groups: the “skeptical group,” the “cautiously optimistic group,” and the “can I KYA, leechy group.” All of which, I would imagine, in Mr. Karp’s long career, must seem all very, very familiar.

So welcome to Newburyport, Stephen Karp.

Mary Eaton
Newburyport