Brian Golden

The fair, the fair and – you guessed it – more of the fair. With the 164th annual Chenango County Fair in town, it seems I’ve written about nothing but the family-friendly event over the last week or so. Not that I’m complaining, considering next week will bring with it a much-anticipated Norwich City School District Board of Education Meeting, Tuesday night’s regular session of the Common Council and (this I’m looking forward to) the Chenango Blues Fest. Regardless, today was more of the same as I penned the 4th annual Guitars Under the Stars preview, featuring country singer Andy Griggs, as well as my weekly column.

Unbelievably, the ‘30 Seconds’ phone line has been dead for the past day or two. A part of me hopes this is due to a few callers’ decision to “hang it up,” so to speak, but I’m guessing it probably has something to do with … the fair. That hasn’t – of course – stopped the online commentators from chiming-in with the usual Obama-bashing, Norwich Board of Education-bashing, welfare-bashing, Republican-Independant-Democrat-bashing, pro-driller-bashing, anti-driller-bashing, Bush-isn’t-president-anymore-bashing, Bush-is-still-to-blame bashing and so on and so forth. Hardly ever any positive commentary on there (or in the print edition) but hey, people obviously need something to do in their spare time.

I had a chance yesterday – much to my delight – to speak with legendary blues harmonica player Mr. James Cotton for fifteen minutes or so. Talk about a once-in-a-lifetime treat, considering it’s not every day you get to chat with a guy who’s played with a veritable who’s-who when it comes to the genre. Sonny Boy Williamson, Muddy Waters and countless others have tagged Mr. Cotton for his amazing talent with the blues harp and – lucky us – the man will be on hand next Saturday for the 19th annual Chenango Blues Fest (bet you can’t tell I have Blues Fest on the brain).

Speaking of Blues Fest … just kidding. Speaking of blogs (this will be my second this week as I attempt to do the “blog thing” on a more regular basis), I’m finally not the proverbial low-man-on-the-totem-pole anymore. The current tally has me in 6th place behind Ms. Stagnaro (215), our esteemed editor Jeff Genung (181), sports editor Pat Newell (119) and former Evening Sun staff writers Jessica Lewis (112) and Tyler Murphy (108). I’m holding strong at 75 blogs to date (this will be 76) and, on Monday, surpassed former Evening Sun employee Mike McGuire (74). Believe it or not, the new guy (sorry, Julian, I just had to) doesn’t fall into last place with six blogs to his name. That would be The Web Guy, with one. That blog, however, simply informs readers that The Evening Sun Blog became self aware on June 29, 2006 at 5:07 p.m. Creepy.

Melissa Stagnaro

Some days it doesn’t pay to get out of bed in the morning. Today is shaping out to be one of those days.

In retrospect, it’s clear that I failed to recognize the early signs which, if I’d been paying more attention, were a clear indication of the day’s southerly inclinations. Beginning with the cruel twist of fate which lead me to turn off my alarm entirely rather than hit snooze as I intended.

This would be considered an inauspicious start to any day, but since I still had ample time to get ready for work, I didn’t see it for what it was: a portent of the universe’s alignment against me.

I was further lulled into a false sense of security when all the pieces of my early morning routine went off without a hitch. That included three stops on my way to work – starting at BlueOx in Oxford to get the papers, and then swinging by both the Norwich State Police barracks and the Norwich City Police station to pick up the respective blotters. Some mornings, depending on the timing, these pit stops can eat up an extra 25 minutes or more, but today, it was smooth sailing and I was still at work before 7.

It really wasn’t until 7:30 that the day really started going off the rails. That was when I took the first sip of my coffee. And nearly spit it out on my keyboard.

Now, most mornings, brewing the daily pot of coffee is a responsibility which falls on my shoulders. But it’s a duty which I’ve been trying to pass on – or at least share – with the newest addition to the ES staff, Julian Kappel.

This morning, like most, I was one of the first in the newsroom. And, as is my norm, I flipped the coffee pot on upon my arrival and turned my attention to work-related tasks while I waited for the ‘brew’ light to illuminate. This little light indicates the machine’s readiness to brew the live-giving, caffeinated elixir I find it difficult to commence my day without. I have found the time it takes for the light to come on is directly proportional to how badly I need that first cup of coffee.

For example, when I am most desperate for caffeine, it takes about an hour. Already had a cup on my way in? The little bugger is on in less than 30 seconds.

This morning, I was able to not only check my email and make my daily to-do list, but also type up the entire blotter before the ‘brew’ light lit up. By that time full-on caffeine deprivation had set in and I made my way back to the kitchen in a stupor.

As I pulled out the little basket where the filter goes, I was thrilled to find it all ready to go. Naively believing Julian had done the grunt work of placing a new filter and filling it with coffee grounds, I simply added the requisite amount of water and waited, ahem, patiently for the pot to brew.

Little did I know, he actually prepped it the day before, planning to brew a double strength pot to get him through the doldrums of late afternoon.

In my desperation for caffeine, I hadn’t even bothered to turn the light on in the newsroom’s kitchen and was therefore blissfully unaware that the substance which I had inadvertently poured into my favorite mug was the color and consistency of a peat bog. Until, of course, I brought the cup to my lips and took a long draught.

On a normal day, the coffee here is pretty horrifying. But at double strength? It’s toxic.

The incident was more than a little traumatic. After all, it’s not every day one of your co-worker’s tries to poison you.

But I pulled myself together and turned my attention back to the task at hand, which was trying to get some details for a story I was working on.

Unfortunately, my initial attempt to gather information was not what I’d call successful. See, the person I was trying to get said information from apparently thought our conversation was over. Despite the fact that I was still talking.

Okay, fine. They hung up on me. But I’m trying to give them the benefit of the doubt here. (Mind you, it wasn’t even 8 a.m. at this point.)

I resisted the urge to both (a) curl up in a whimpering ball under my desk and/or (b) call the person back and give them a verbal bitch-slap.

Barely.

Instead, I took the responsible approach. Which involved popping a Midol, which I washed it down with a swig of the vile swill from the once-favorite mug and got on with my day.

Because that’s what you do when your day gets off to a bad start. You don’t crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head. You get on with it.

Happy Wednesday!

Follow me on Twitter … @evesunmelissa.

Julian Kappel

As many of you have most likely read by now, either from my article or Jeff’s blog, I did indeed get the chance to meet one of the presidential candidates for 2012. If you read my article I think you got the gist of what his campaign is all about. Small government is the name of the game and God holds most of the cards.

Now I’d like to quickly explain how I go about forming opinions of politicians these days before anyone jumps to conclusions about my intentions with this blog.

These days, I find the stigmas and prejudices people associate with the various parties and social classes both trite and juvenile. Obviously we must use labels otherwise no one would have any idea what was going on, but the assumptions that we make (and yes I mean we because I catch myself falling prey to the same traps from time to time) are more often than not based on wanting to be a part of something definitive, whether or not we fully comprehend the actual definition.

Can anyone really say they hate all Republicans? Or Democrats? Can you honestly say you can’t trust a single liberal? Can you truly say all rich, conservative families are greedy? Can you say for certain that every single celebrity on Dr. Drew’s Celebrity Rehab is just doing it to get their strung-out, bug-eyed face back in the spotlight? Ok, so that last one was a bad example, but I hope you get my point.

Sure, these stigmas usually exist for a reason, but does that mean it’s right to jump to conclusions just to save us the energy of actually getting to know someone and giving them a chance to prove what they’re saying carries some weight and holds some meaning?

My first impression of John Davis wasn’t the best. I mean, he’s wielding a star-spangled wrench … in front of a bus that’s plastered with an image of him … wielding a star-spangled wrench. Cheap gimmicks anyone? By the way, this was before I’d even met the guy.

But like I was saying towards the beginning, everyone deserves a chance, sometimes even more than one. Unfortunately, Mr. Davis was using his up pretty quickly.

As he steps off the bus he is carrying none other than the wrench; the wrench that is prominently displayed on the side of the bus for everyone traveling through the center of town to admire/gawk at. And not only that, he has it slung over his shoulder like he’s Uncle Sam the Lumberjack. But hey, I get it, that’s his thing. It’s obvious he likes the wrench. In my head, meanwhile, I’m imagining all the fun slogans he must have entertained during the brainstorming process.

Our nation’s economy has a leak, John Davis is here to fix the drain.

John Davis can un-clog any problem Congress gets stuck on.

There’s no job too big for the Republican party’s biggest tool.

Unfortunately, my misgivings did not end there. It turns out that not only has this man never run for office in the national arena, he’s never held office … at all … ever … period.

Now granted he has a fairly impressive resume. He has been self-employed for over 40 years, ever since he graduated high school, and has done very well for himself. A majority of his campaign he funds himself and certainly has plenty to spare, but aside from serving on a few committees in his hometown of Grand Junction, Colo., he has never been involved in politics.

Now I realize you have to start somewhere, but we’re talking about jumping into the middle of the Atlantic in order to teach yourself to swim. Davis’ response?

“Why would I expect anyone else to do it, if I wasn’t willing to try it myself.”

Now I’d like to recap. This man has no political experience, no foreign affairs experience, a high school diploma is his highest form of education (except for graduating from the school of hard knocks of which he is infinitely proud) and everywhere he goes he carries a big, colorful wrench.

Final summation: Absolutely nothing in his resume that would make me even consider voting for him.

However, and here’s the twist, when I left West Park that day, all I could think was, Oh man but I sure do like that guy!

Now before heads start doing a Linda Blair 360, let me explain.

First of all, the reception in the park wasn’t exactly what you’d expect for a presidential candidate, even one as unknown as Davis. That is to say there was me, a friend of mine that was interested in meeting a candidate, and four absolutely charming and intelligent older ladies and gentlemen whom Davis addressed as though they were the entire town turned out to welcome him.

Despite the lack of people, Davis spoke as if he were addressing a crowd. He of course had the stock statements prepared: I don’t look, act or talk like a president… but I have what it takes to be a president; I’ve been through the school of hard knocks several times over; I’ll see you at the White House! However, what impressed me first was his ability to listen and his sincerity when it came to answering my questions.

His plan is to take his “votercade” across the country visiting each and every county. All of them. Chenango County was number 961 and it was obvious from the beginning that he didn’t know much more about the area than that it’s in New York and it’s no where near the city.

Of course, wanting to get a good interview and test him on his proposed policies I gave him some quick ideas about what the folks of Chenango are interested locally vis-à-vis agriculture, education, and reinvigorating local industry. His response was brief, to the point, and pretty much summed up exactly where he was coming from.

“Well, I don’t know much about how things should be run around here. But I’m guessing that people around here have a pretty good idea and it’s about time we put these decisions back in the hands of local governments … instead of relying on Washington to just fix it.”

I just love the way that sounds. He wasn’t trying to make it sound nice and keep everyone happy. At least to me it sounded like: no one’s doing it right because everyone’s expecting someone else to do it for them. And that, at least for me, is where credentials can go out the window. The man had a valid, albeit rough point and he didn’t attempt to pander to any side.

While that was certainly gratifying, the best was yet to come. About 15 minutes into the 20 minute long interview, a couple of gentlemen (and I use the word gentlemen very loosely here) sitting on BMX bikes in gray tank-tops and black shorts (I use the term shorts, again loosely) who began calling “questions” to Mr. Davis as I conducted the interview. The questions, which I have edited for content, were all somewhere along the lines of: “Hey [mister] are you [some kind of] Republican, ‘cause if you are you [are not a good person] and should kiss my [frog].” or “Republicans are taking this country down the [drain] with their [bad, silly ideas].”

This continued for the last five minutes of the interview during which, although I could tell Davis had noticed the “gentlemen,” did not acknowledge them whatsoever. I also kept calm although, while I am not a person normally prone to anger, had to struggle slightly with my frustration at how these … individuals … were representing our community.

The interview ended and I asked the presidential candidate if he would mind posing for a quick picture with his beautiful wife in front of the court house. He assured me that he would be more than happy to do so, but first he had to say hello to the rest of his possible constituents.

And it was then, as Davis made his way over to Norwich’s two finest diplomats that I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I would have a really great blog on Monday…

Happy Monday everyone!

Brian Golden

Time flies when you’re having fun and – apparently – I must have had my fair share of it over the weekend considering I felt as if I’d never left my desk when I came into the office this morning. Which makes sense, however, considering I performed both Friday and Saturday night with the Master Thieves (Saturday in Syracuse, no less). And Sunday? Sunday was cleaning-shopping-barbecuing-and-Wii Bowling Tournament Day.

Needless to say – as is typically the case these days when I attempt anything even remotely resembling an athletic activity – I managed to injure myself. I’m not sure if I pulled a muscle or what, but I’m actually in a bit of pain today. Now that’s priceless.

I’m always excited when I run across a new musician or band that gets my creative, musical juices a-flowing and – on Saturday – that’s exactly what happened. A pair of singer-songwriter-instrumentalists and siblings known as The Avett Brothers caught my attention with their song “Laundry Room,” which I discovered, ironically, on CMT (what can I say, I’m not the world’s biggest country music fan). An interesting blend of folk, rock and old-school, Civil War-era mountain man music, I must say I’m impressed. It kind of made me want to sell all my gear, purchase an old, beat-up Martin acoustic guitar and retire to a small wood cabin somewhere in the wilderness and attempt to figure out how they pulled together such a unique sound. Unfortunately, that’s simply not in the cards, as my journalistic duties take precedence (not to mention I’m certainly not getting rid of my beloved Fender Stratocaster any day soon).

Speaking of journalistic duties, tomorrow marks the beginning of that one-of-a-kind experience that can only be the Chenango County Fair. For a second straight year, I was responsible for the fair preview story, which you can read here. This week’s Evening Sun will be chock-full of fair coverage, for sure, so don’t miss out. There’ll be blogs, columns, features and who knows what else throughout the duration of (one of, if not the) Chenango County’s longest running events, now in its 164th year.

Jeff Genung

• T-minus 24 hours (or less, depending on when you’re reading this) until we enter into All-Fair, All-the-Time mode here at The Evening Sun. It’s an exciting week to be a reporter, as my trusty staff gets to see, hear, taste (and smell) things they’ve waited all year for! Hyperbole, perhaps, but still, it’s a big week to celebrate all things Chenango – and the Fair’s got ‘em all!

• I tweeted earlier today that Brian Golden just interviewed the Pope. Probably not the same Pope you’re thinking of, but hey. It is Fair Week, after all. Check out the story in Tuesday’s Evening Sun.

• Julian Kappel may have shaken the hand of (and interviewed, of course) the next President of the United States when he stumped in Norwich on Friday. Or maybe not. In any event, it’s not every day you get to see a picture of a guy wielding a big red, white & blue wrench in West Park, so there’s that. Kudos to the guy, at least, for taking it to the people. Who knows?

• Must be Pat Newell’s still recovering from this weekend’s Member-Guest golf tournament at the Canasawacta Country Club, because yours truly gets to be Sports Editor, again, all week long. Be still, my heart.

• The Evening Sun is still “more than free” every day. In each edition on Page 3, there’s a $1 off coupon good at a local business (the paper costs 75 cents; use that dollar coupon and you net a quarter! Thanks Oxford math teachers!). In today’s edition, it’s a buck off at The Colonia. Dying to see that new “Planet of the Apes” flick.

Julian Kappel

Well, it has been quite a day here at The Evening Sun. I had a morning filled with interviews, a lunch break filled with errands, and an afternoon at the computer finishing up my second video. In case you didn’t notice, this one didn’t take quite as long. I think I’m starting to get back in the video editing swing of things!

As a side note, I actually began my collegiate career studying film-making, but returned to my journalism roots in my second year. I still have quite a passion for everything movie related, however, journalism is where my heart lies and always shall.

Anyway, my day has been fantastic so far and I have just that much more to look forward to. The Evening Sun’s very own Brian Golden is having the CD release party for his band, Master Thieves tonight at the Music Shop Pub and I’m excited as heck to see them play live. It should be a fantastic event and I hope everyone 21 and over is able to attend.

Also, I get a chance to see presidential candidate John Davis at the courthouse in Norwich at 6 p.m. I have to admit I hadn’t heard a darn thing about the guy until the other day but I’m very interested to hear about his platform and opinion of the state of the nation. Anyone else who’s interested, I hope to see you there. Republican, democrat, independent or just plain ignorant; everyone should take the opportunity to have an up-close and personal experience with anyone looking to run our country.

Two more quick notes and then I’m heading home (I apologize for the brevity of this blog, but like I said it’s been quite a day.)
First of all, I’m sorry my blogs have been appearing in such small text and with an extremely annoying lack of space between paragraphs. I don’t know why it’s happening but I promise I’m doing my best to figure it out, hopefully for the next blog.

Secondly, thank you to everyone who has come up to me and congratulated me on my new career over the last few weeks. Some of you I know, some I don’t, but the support has been truly appreciated and makes me feel wonderfully at home here. I wasn’t born in Norwich but it really has become my home over the last 12 years and a large part of that is because of the fantastic people I’ve met and bonded with.

That being said, I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend and enjoys the beautiful weather.
Huzzah!

Jeff Genung

• I panicked for a brief second this morning when I couldn’t find the AP Sports Digest, the paint-by-numbers list of the day’s top sports stories that make it possible for me to substitute for Pat Newell and actually make it look like I know what I’m doing. Thankfully, I find it in time. Otherwise, you might have seen a story about the Midget Ping Pong Internationals on the front of section two.

• Gerard O’Sullivan sure takes a lot of abuse as our superintendent of schools here in Norwich, so I sure didn’t envy him this morning when I found out that they’re reinstating the January Regents. Sure throws a wrench into the whole high school scheduling debate. I can say to all the critics that I don’t believe anyone set out specifically to scuttle the NHS music program, although the proposed schedule would out those students at a decided disadvantage. I know there are a lot of plates to keep spinning here, and this just adds another, in basically the 11th hour before the new school year. Hopefully they can work something out that’s in the best interests of all students.

• We’re entering into all-Fair, all-the-time mode here at the ES, with a few preview stories going in this week and wall-to-wall coverage (Stories! Photos! Video! Tweets! Blogs!) planned for next week. We have a great time with it every year … here’s hoping the 164th annual is one to remember!

• I’m off again Friday, so I hereby disavow any knowledge of anything that appears again until Monday.

Julian Kappel

It was suggested to me that I take a minute and reflect on my (first) time at the Otsego County Fair, as it was obvious I had such a good time. I have decided to do just that with an additional bit of shocking news at the end.

First of all, no, I did not ride any of the rides and it wasn’t because I was scared. Seriously, I had just  ate. I was in my nice work clothes. I had to get back for … OK, fine, I just don’t like fair rides. Honestly, it isn’t that I’m scared of them, I just don’t really like the way most of them make my stomach feel.

Basically any of them that swing I’m not a fan of. That is to say, basically, all of them. To be honest I didn’t even like actual swings as a kid. Slides are no problem; heights, have never been an issue but when it comes to that back and forth feeling in my guts: that’s a big, old ‘no, thank you’ for me.

However, this wasn’t really meant to be a blog about what ties my intestines into knots (the thought of Paris Hilton getting another TV show) but about the fair.

Well, let me say this, it had everything one could want in a county fair: vendors selling bling necklaces and inflatable guitars, game stalls with stuffed animals bigger than your average 12 year old, and fried, um, everything.

Not to mention no end to the animals. I had an inside scoop that told me there were 298 cows, 90 sheep, 244 rabbits, 59 swine, 155 goats and 205 poultry. However, sources informed me of a complete lack of partridges in pear trees, much to my dismay.

All-in-all it was an interesting, albeit quick visit and it has certainly piqued my interest as to how constant coverage of the Chenango County fair will go. Based on what my fellow Evening Sun staffers have told me, it will be an experience not soon forgotten.

Jeff Genung

• If it’s August, it must be Fair season (oh wait, Afton’s was in July, but still …). The 65th annual Otsego Fair kicked things off in Morris last night, and the merriment continues through Sunday. I sent both Julian and Frank over to cover opening day (and the parade) for our weekly newspaper, The New Berlin Gazette, but since Morris is thisclose to Chenango County, I decided to put it in The Evening Sun as well. Subscribers, check out Frank’s photo gallery here. And Julian’s here.

• I got a little excited when I heard the sirens (and later read ‘sky is falling’ posts on Facebook) last night, but it turns out a helicopter did not crash in the Town of Norwich. Looks like it just hovered, landed and took off again … but still seems kinda vague as to who it was and what they were doing here. You don’t see a lot of private helicopters around these parts.

• I get to play Sports Editor in the morning, since our own Pat Newell is playing in (and covering, natch) the Member-Guest tournament at the Canasawacta Country Club. Not much of a golf fan myself, shockingly, but this is a big event here – and in its 53rd year. Check out the first-round pairings here.

• Actual text of a letter I received in the mail yesterday: “Mr. Editor: Now that Gov. Andy Cuomo has signed the same sex bill into law, he has made NEW YORK STATE into a GIGANTIC WHORE HOUSE, so is he a good Gov. or a bad GOVENOR.” To top it off, it was poorly typed on a typewriter, on a slip of paper about the size of a dollar bill. Looked more like a ransom note than a Letter to the Editor. Though it was postmarked Syracuse, the author failed to give an address, phone number or any contact information, negating it under our publication policy. Just thought I’d share the fun little things that cross my desk on a given day.

• Come to think of it, I suppose if I were to live in a whore house, I would want it to be a GIGANTIC one.

Melissa Stagnaro

Okay, so I know it’s been a long time since I’ve tapped away at my little key board just for the pleasure of penning a blog for the enjoyment of our readers. Trust me, I’ve missed it as much as you have. Maybe even more.

Since I started at The Evening Sun three looooooong years ago, blogging has been one of the greatest highlights of my week. But of late, I’ve struggled to find time to put finger tips to keys. It isn’t laziness, I assure you. Or a lack of things to write about. No, it’s just that my new beat is eating me alive.

Don’t get me wrong! I love the challenge of it. Between my newly assumed coverage of the police/fire/court beat, plus the seven townships, four school districts and other bits and pieces I continue to cover, well, let’s just say there is never a dull moment. Especially since Jeff’s been doing his best to put me in an early grave by taking Friday’s off through the summer.

Oh, how I miss those care-free days, when Fridays were my favorite day of the week. Now they’re fraught with tension as Pat and I pull extra duty putting the finishing touches on the day’s edition in Jeff’s absence. But that too is exciting, and a nice change from school board meetings and the like, so I’m not really complaining.

I’m still in the “learning curve” phase with it all, but I’d like to think I’m getting the hang of it. And at some point, I hope that I’ll be able to find a little more balance. So I can find time to blog. And maybe, just maybe, have a social life again.

Although that last bit is probably too much to ask. I’ll setting for time to work on my summer to-do list. On which, regrettably, I have yet to make much of a dent.

Follow me on Twitter … @evesunmelissa.