Ok, I’ll admit it, I went home from the Nick Cracknell wake …celebration …rumble, whatever and cried. And the first “no Nick day,” I’ve been wandering around my studio (I’m a painter) hoping I don’t turn the large cheery spring landscape I’m working on into a painting of doom. I’ve also been seriously considering getting the black arm band out and wandering around City Hall, back and forth in front of Mayor John Moak’s office, or maybe just pulling up a chair and glaring at it.

I realize that this is probably a slight over-reaction, which surprises even me. It feels like a death. Like when I know someone will die, but when they actually do, I can hardly believe it is final. Happy Mr. Moak?

I was glad to read the editorial in the Newburyport Daily News today about Mr. Cracknell’s departure and what in the world Mr. Moak has in mind. It was not only full of good information, but it sounded downright angry and passionate. Good. Great editorial.

And Mr. Ryan of the Undertoad Blog says John Moak is stunned by the reaction to the axing of Mary Lou Supple and Nick Cracknell. Good. Get it yet Mr. Moak?

And from reading Friday’s Newburyport Current, I know who’s going to be in my sight lines in the coming weeks and months. Maybe they’ll be “Eatoned.”

And for all of you out there in web-land who didn’t attend the farewell Nick Cracknell shindig, well, it was quite something. First of all the Masonic Hall was packed. The “toasts” or appreciation speeches went on for a good hour. During the whole time there was clapping, wild cheering, whistling, stomping of feet, a standing ovation. And let’s not forget the entire hall spontaneously singing along to some inspired lyrics. Pyrrhic victory, Mr. Moak? You bettcha.

I guess I’m going to be dusting off my activist hat. Happily, I haven’t needed it in the last 4 years. I imagine that lots of activists are doing the same thing.

Wow, what a mess you have made Mr. Moak.

Mary Eaton, Newburyport