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Archived Posts from this Category
Posted by karlmeyer on 04 Aug 2010 | Tagged as: alewives, American shad, Atlantic salmon, Bellows Falls Fishway, blueback herring, Connecticut River, Connecticut River Atlantic Salmon Commission, Conte, CRASC, federal trust fish, Politics, salmon, Salmon eggs, salmon hatchery, Uncategorized, USFWS, Vernon Dam Fishway, Walpole
Connecticut River special: “Season of Secrets†with writer Karl Meyer, airs Wednesday, August 4, at 5:30 pm, on Local Bias:  www.gctv.org
(this local Greenfield cable show can be downloaded after tonight’s show, please share the link!)
Greenfield, MA. August 4, 2010. Environmental journalist and author Karl Meyer spent this spring and summer blogging and following the Connecticut River’s migratory fish runs, by bicycle, from Long Island Sound at Old Saybrook, CT  to Bellows Falls, VT and North Walpole, NH (www.karlmeyerwriting.com ) This was a follow-up to Meyer’s “Turners Falls Turnaround†in the March 2009 edition of Sanctuary Magazine. Meyer spends a half hour with GCTV’s “Local-Bias†Host Drew Hutchinson talking about this year’s fish run and the secrecy and cover-ups shrouding the Connecticut River migratory fish restoration–on both the corporate and public agency levels. Topics include:
“Season of Secrets,†airs Wednesday, August 4, at 5:30 pm; and repeats on Thursday and Friday August 5 & 6, at 9 pm. The program repeats in those time slots the week of August 8th, and will be available for download on the video on demand page at gctv.org.
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Posted by karlmeyer on 27 Feb 2008 | Tagged as: Politics
                                          © 2008 Karl Meyer
American Pastime
On this February morning there was drama in the United States Congress. Two powerful men thought to have deceived the American people for most of a decade were answering questions. There were references to wire tapping and intimidation to keep crimes hidden. Personal information had been leaked to impugn credibility. The story was riveting: hubris, bedroom secrets; the let down of the next generation of kids.
It was a story of power and ego; lots of money involved. One party rallied around the powerful man as a god. The other assaulted his testimony as if they were bringing down the Bastille. Hushed talk began circulating of a presidential pardon. This was terrific theatre, but hardly of a high order—sports-entertainment and drugs, the stuff
But as the time of spring training neared my fantasies went way beyond baseball. I dreamt Congress was sending blistering line drives and punishing grounders at the two highest officers of the land—hard ball questions that offered no cover. Stand and catch the ball, or let it go by–on a level playing field, in full view of the American people. Whack: what about weapons of mass destruction? Whack: what about leaked names? Bang: what about soldiers, civilians, sacrificed? Bam: what about water boarding–what about the country’s soul, Sir?
The day’s baseball drama WAS riveting. He said–he said; he said that she said. What did he say; when did he say it? Patriotism, hard work, respect for rules, were all used to mask the ominous and building backdrop of wrong-doing. The big guy said he could not be a bad guy. It was a miss-understanding. Words were miss-spoke, miss-heard. He was a leader, in control—a decider. Something foul occurred on his watch. He’d moved swiftly to get a handle on it. Now jealous people and the media had turned on him. His reputation was at stake. His legacy. He wanted his soul back. He stood pleading before a soul-less Congress. Expectant.
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Posted by karlmeyer on 08 Jan 2008 | Tagged as: Politics
The following essay appeared as an OpEd in both the Daily Hampshire Gazette and the Greenfield Recorder on January 2, 2008.
Karl Meyer © 2007
Conspiracy to Bird
I am standing at the intersection of Wildlife and Freedom—or that’s what it feels like. Actually I’m on
The next morning the BBC interviewed Judith Krug, Director of the Office for Intellectual Freedom for the American Library Association. Krug has fought for the right to free inquiry for decades–has stood up to keep the government from snooping library records of ordinary citizens. She’s defended books banned for stating simple truths. Her final question was “why have you kept up the fight so long?†She answered–clear as a winter day, “Because I’m not a person that the government can rule by fear.â€
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Posted by karlmeyer on 09 Dec 2007 | Tagged as: Politics
Karl Meyer                                                                               December 9, 2007
               Holding up a candle
I am at a meeting of excited townspeople, and a certain magical realism seems to be at work. The evening’s focus is the building of a sustainable downtown. It’s a sharing of ideas. I’m feeling like I want to hold up a candle, but that would be a mistake. Though it might seem otherwise, what’s mostly heard here is an affirmation of the belief there will be continuing plenty into the future. And the crowd continues to warm to that idea of plenty.  Slowly the sentiment builds into a celebration of much-ness. But maybe it just an awkward human jab at a universe that perhaps seems filled with dark–an indoor howl at a fluorescent moon.
I am new to this town, though I’ve known it for years. I wanted to see what neighbors might have to say about living in harmony with a warming planet and each other. And those neighbors showed up–close to a hundred. Most are what are called progressives here. In general they appear to be either business owners or nascent entrepreneurs.  Tonight’s sustainable topic is fostering vital downtowns.
The downtown here is a little ragged, but making progress. A seemingly endless theme has been the political tug of war over when, if, and how, a big box retailer should be brought into town. Since, overall, it’s not a particularly wealthy community, big WalMart-ideas get good traction among the less well-to-do, who are not represented here–and the better-healed chamber types and construction interests.
But the people at this meeting believe in a smaller version of things. They want to see shops and businesses in the downtown spaces—and they want to be running them, or retailing products through them.  But something is missing. The conversation in this town of eighteen thousand always swings back to perceived customer bases that are either tourists or people on the other side of the globe hankering to purchase distant products over the world-wide web.
Some presenters do speak briefly and well about sustainability and community. But that message has been heard before, and no one is here to step on anyone’s toes. Several have done their best to incorporate products and ingredients from local manufacturers and growers. One is a local food coop/grocery store. Another is a pub-restaurant that has reduced its footprint to just one bag of trash per night. Another briefly mentions reestablishing a vanished infrastructure of regional dairy, meat, and manufacturing plants. But the majority have businesses and dreams fixed on a big-box pipeline—overseas imports arriving at astonishingly cheap rates that promise their particular sustainable/local enterprise comfortable profits into the future.
This crowd, and many of its panel members, are a cheering squad for big time marketing by small players. Though a few are about cooperatives, most pattern themselves as the enlightened individuals of the entrepreneur frontier. A glow of dollars flashes across faces when profit is mentioned. They want to profit from ideas. And, in return for such things, we’d each like to believe that the earth should offer us sustenance. And a whole lot of comfort beyond that. But unacknowledged in the back of this thinking is an invisible pool of cheap labor, the foundation of this dream of cheap goods and money.
Of the actual people here that produce something sustainable there could be a dozen. At least three people are from farms, and several more sell and install soft energy products. But there are no union people here, and no one looks poor. This is not the face of diversity. Most here have probably had a least one restaurant meal in the past week. Ultimately they give a college cheer when someone explains a gimmick to bring a nearby run of tourists up the hill and into town from the interstate. Everyone smiles at the idea of money from elsewhere, marching onto
But almost nowhere is the bedrock question about the fuel behind this windfall of consumers addressed. They will be expected to sweep in daily and then leave—as regular as the tides. There is no mention of gasoline—sustainability; a warming planet. Though someone mentions bicycles, no one is talking trolleys, passenger rail, or even tour busses. There is up-front recognition that this group’s sustainable idea of itself could never be supported by a community of a mere 18,000 souls. These market ideas require a much larger pie. They are meant to serve armies arriving in individual vehicles—convoys from
What’s mostly missing in this view toward a sustainable and vital downtown is the idea of sustainability. Though many of these folks don’t like taxes, neither are they prepared to admit the obvious—that we’ve taxed the planet to the point of no longer sustaining us. We believe our ideas–and a few well-placed investments, are enough afford us a comfortable living. We feel entitled to be comfortably fed and warmed by the planet simply for figuring out how to get money from people from afar.
Honest sustainability talk might acknowledge that systems need to change—that we need to change. Our notions can no longer be fueled by exhaust spewing cars from afar–arriving with hungry tourists wishing to purchase products from distant lands with dollars leveraged on over-heated, carbon-fueled, production fires in
One woman makes a point that begins to address the underlying issue in a simple thought. She’s one of the farm-connected people. She states that what ultimately is going to impose itself as the limiting factor–above any and all ideas here, is the carrying capacity of earth’s systems–the actual limits of the planet we each inhabit for just a few short years. But her nugget of common sense is mostly-missed by this crowd.
And, as a newcomer, I do not hold up my candle this night. It is best. It’s not something I’m good at. I’m more likely to bonk people over the head and say—what are you possibly thinking? No one would see that clumsy light. But I’m grateful for my friend Tom, who holds his candle light up into the face of the night’s roaring fire. It is humble; it addresses the present. And what he has to say perhaps reaches a few who care to see beyond its small flame.
Tom’s in his eighties, but you wouldn’t know it. And he’s been sick for a while, but you wouldn’t know that either. I see him stand—way up front, and be recognized as the night’s last speaker from the audience. His message is brief. He speaks honestly of sustainability, but perhaps what’s most important is encapsulated in his last words: “I hope as we go forward, that we’ll all take the time to take care of each other.â€
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Posted by karlmeyer on 24 Oct 2007 | Tagged as: Politics
Wailing on Freedom
(note: this posting was written earlier this summer–then removed, and updated. It ran as an op-ed piece locally)
I went to the driving range one morning this summer. I’m not a golfer. The first and last time I was on a real golf course was decades ago. I don’t find it to be a real sport. On this morning, however, I was compelled to pick up a stick and swat little balls. I was driven to the driving range that day by Congress, Dick Cheney, and Monsieurs Bush and Gonzales. We all hopped in a little cart and went driving together.
This cowardly Congress gave the cookie jar to the Cookie Monster, then packed up and left for vacation.
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Posted by karlmeyer on 01 Aug 2007 | Tagged as: Politics
We’re being watched. I wanted to be up front about this–it’s my fault. This site collects cookies. REQUIRES cookies. The irony of this is that my computer settings have been pointedly turned away from any sites that collect cookies. Yet, once my friend Diane helped me put together this web-site and blog, I was unable to post anything in this space. It wouldn’t let me log in to blog. She couldn’t figure out why. I finally did.
I went into that little box that says “security” and checked the place where it gives permission to collect data. To collect cookies. There is only one other site listed there–one that I’ve agreed can track my computer strokes. Ironically, that’s the government. I’ve been doing breeding bird surveying for Massachusetts Audubon, and they use software from the US Fish and Wildlife Service. I wanted to help out, so I compromised–“just this once.” I gave permission for the government to enter my computer. How ironic. As soon as I glimpse that last breeding kingbird of summer, I’m ripping them out of there. But who knows if the data biters will actually withdraw the troops…?
So now, in order to be a blogger, I’m comprimising both of us. How does that make you feel? Once I checked the cookies thing, I was able to log in. Now I can blog to my heart’s content–each keystroke becoming a valued addition to the collected babble of the information age. So, BEWARE ALL WHO ENTER HERE! I’m sorry we’re being watched. We now have a government that is the world’s largest collector of information. We now have an executive branch that is the most secretive in the history of this country. I know how that makes me feel: ANGRY, COMPROMISED, and more than a bit OUTRAGED. Like you I’m hoping the feelings pass with a second cup of coffee.
But this brings up questions for me. If this site is mine, and its collecting cookies, who exactly is eating them? Am I eating my own cookies? Can I offer them around? Would you like a cookie? I don’t even know where the jar is. I’m not even hungry, you? Also, and I’m not sure about this–am I eating YOUR cookies? Or is someone else eating OUR cookies? I guess what is most important to know is that THERE ARE COOKIES HERE! If you’re intelligent, or dieting, or wary of today’s inordinate appetite for secret data, I strongly advise you to take your shopping cart elsewhere. We’ve had our cup of coffee and we’ll just call it a day. Oh, but–are you going to eat these?
As to my more thoughtful and paranoid thoughts on the whole idea of data mining and freedom, I will post my first piece under “humor”–after I send this one into the “politics” category. It’s an essay that appeared in June in Hampshire Life Magazine, called “Already in the System.” You can find it in the Humor Category. The irony there is–even if you don’t find it funny, some data grinch will see that you went to the box that said “humor.”
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