AUG 2019
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With this issue, Up Portland is four years old. Like any kid, we have had our ups and downs, but thanks to great support from our community and advertisers, we are managing to make a few bucks, have had a great time doing it and hopefully entertaining and informing you, our readers, along the way. In this tough environment for newspapers, we have seen a number of what were our fellow publications either close or morph into different formats and names to try and stay afloat. Some have succeeded (Congrats! We need to stick together!) while others have folded, including very long-established names like The Phoenix and Dispatch. We are here and glad to be here. We have increased our circulation in both print and readers online, and we plan to continue to do so, as long as you, our readers, “pick us up� in either the dead tree edition or the one made up of pixels. We will continue to add new columnists and topics, and expand on the articles which we have become known for printing. And for those with tablets and computers, keep an eye out on www.upportland. com as we are expanding offerings there. This month, check out the link to our video of that thunderstorm Forecaster Jack writes about on Page Six, and video of the Icelandic waterfall we talk about on Page 12. Print is great, but some things on-line allows one just cannot do on paper! In any case, we wanted to say thanks to you, our readers, our advertisers and our supporters. As always, comments are welcome in person when you spot us wandering around the Old Port or in e-mail at ted@upportland.com or on social media. Above all, thanks for reading!
---Ted Fleischaker, Publisher.
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Beyond The Forecast
By Jack Sillin / Weatherman & Meterology Student Hello everyone!
Congratulations! We have survived the climatological peak of summer! The last week in July is typically our hottest week here in Portland, with average temps beginning to fall from now until mid January. There will undoubtedly be much more heat and humidity yet to come this season, but it’s nice to know that those beautiful crisp fall days are getting closer. Before we can get to any of that nice weather though, we’re going to need some cold fronts to deliver the Canadian air that we all (or at least most of us) love so well. And anytime you combine a cold front with a hot and humid airmass, you’re going to get thunderstorms. I’ve talked a lot about thunderstorms recently, and I’ve almost covered the topics we need to know up here in Maine (I feel pretty comfortable skipping the section on drylines, for example, as that’s a phenomenon unique to the Midwest). That being said, the severe thunderstorm event of 31st July reminded me that there’s one more topic we need to cover before switching gears into fall mode: microbursts. If you were lucky (or unlucky, depending on your perspective) to be standing in downtown Boston around 3.45 that afternoon, York about 20 minutes later, or interior parts of the Midcoast in the 5 to 6 p.m. timeframe, you would’ve noticed that your thunderstorm came with a generous side helping of wind. In fact, Boston’s Logan Airport measured a gust of 74 m.p.h. as the storm went through. Trees were downed across roads and power lines in the wake of all three storms, and there is no shortage of wild videos to be found if one searches their favourite social media platform for ‘Boston microburst”. So what is a microburst and how does one form?
A microburst is a very localised (typically only a few hundred yards across) burst of very strong winds associated with the rain-cooled outflow of a thunderstorm. The winds contained within these bursts have been known to exceed 100 m.p.h. in the strongest cases. The process of a microburst’s formation is a bit more complicated, but is outlined generally in the schematic, shown below at left. The developing stage of a hypothetical thunderstorm that will later go on to produce a microburst is shown in the first panel of the schematic. Warm/moist air rises, it accelerates upwards due to the density difference between warm/moist air and the relatively cooler/drier environment, and the moisture in the rising air condenses into raindrops. Eventually, those raindrops get too heavy to be supported by the updraft and they start to make their way towards the ground. This is where they encounter an area of relatively dry air (with low relative humidity values indicating that there's plenty of room for more water). The raindrops then start evaporating to 'fill' the dry air's empty water vapor capacity. This evaporation results in cooling, because the liquid water droplets need additional energy added to them to make the jump to the higher energy gaseous phase. That energy comes from the surrounding air molecules, and thus the air in/below the storm becomes colder as it loses energy to the water. Cold air is less dense than warm air, and as a result the cold air that develops as a result of the evaporation near the bottom of the cloud begins to move downwards. As the pocket of evaporationally cooled air crashes into the ground, it spreads out, resulting in very strong winds at the surface. You can see this whole process in action if you look at the second graphic I’ve included (at right) which is a three dimensional rendering of the microburst that impacted parts of the Midcoast of Maine. Time increases going down the graphic. The first two frames show the first storm in its microburst/decay phase (note the
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left column of red shrinking downwards as time goes on). During this time, a new storm was in its development stage with lots of warm and moist air surging upwards. As this moisture condensed, it formed a lot of raindrops (and some hailstones, too) which show up in the red/pink colours I’ve circled in bright blue. During the next two frames, all this water remains suspended about 10,000 feet above the ground. By the second to last frame, that precipitation begins descending as evaporational cooling takes hold at the edges of the cloud. The final image shows the microburst hitting the ground and fanning out (notice the lack of pink because all that rain and hail hit the ground). This burst of wind knocked down many trees just west of Camden. Microbursts are relatively common events, and someone along the Maine Coast will usually get one each year. That being said, not all thunderstorms collapse so dramatically. Most storms are also eventually doomed by the weight of their own rain, but without very dry air in the low levels to keep the evaporational cooling going all the way to the ground, the cool air arrives with much less of a vengeance. The storms on that last day of July benefitted from a very dry low level airmass (in terms of relative humidity, not in terms of the absolute quantity of moisture available, which was very high) and thus three microburst producing storms occurred within a couple hours and a hundred or so miles of one another. Next time you see thunderstorms in the forecast, keep an eye out for microbursts. You’ll be able to tell a microburst is occurring either if you’re under it and it’s really windy, or if you’re looking at it from a few miles away and see a ‘rain foot’ or a part of the dark rain shaft that bends outwards at the bottom. This is a sign that there’s lots of cool air rushing downwards and it’s fanning out at the surface, likely causing strong winds. I’ll be back next month with more weather.
Jack’s Weather Terms Marine Layer: The marine layer is a thin layer of air which has characteristics shaped greatly by interaction with a body of water (in our case, the Gulf of Maine). Marine layer air masses are always moist, and for us here in Maine, are also nearly always stable. Sometimes, but not always, they bring fog, which can be extremely dense if conditions are right. The marine layer will be warmer than the surrounding land during the winter when the waters offshore are warmer than the continental airmass, while the opposite is true in the summer. Have you ever enjoyed the cool sea breeze here in Portland that develops on a sunny summer afternoon? That’s the marine layer making its way inland. Stable: What does it mean for an airmass to be stable? Simply that any air parcel (think basketball-ish sized chunk of air) in that airmass will return to its initial position if something were to knock it out of position. How do we figure that out? Stability comes in two flavours: horizontal and vertical. Horizontal stability references the tendency of a parcel to return to its initial position if displaced horizontally, while vertical stability is the equivalent in the vertical dimension. Vertical stability is nearly always the more consequential, and depends on the vertical structure of the atmosphere. If the temperature increases with height, the airmass is vertically stable because an air parcel displaced upwards will be cooler (and thus heavier) than its surroundings, and will sink back down to where it started. That process would happen in reverse for a parcel displaced downwards, which would be warmer than its surroundings and would thus rise back to its initial position.
Be Sure To Tell Them You Saw Their Ad In Up Portland!
-Jack
The Midcoast Storm as seen from the Old Port on 31st July
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Layne’s Wine Time
The Greeks were moderate in their tastes, mixing up to 20 parts of water to one part of wine in a similar vessel. It is a country comprised of a slew of little mountains and islands --each with its own identity.
Layne V. Witherell / Up Portland Wine Critic
GREEK WINES In the 1990’s I was staring at numerous expensive Steuben vases in the Corning Museum of Glass in Corning, New York. I had just completed a three-day marathon wine judging of over 1,200 New York State wines. My eyes looked like “two poached eggs engraved with a road map of West Virginia” (thank you, Tom Wolfe). Wine writers were sent on these journeys to seek, taste and critique wines from new lands --- in this case, New York. We usually did our work and promptly left town. I decided to look around a bit. Daily newspapers throughout America featured a weekly wine column in the pre-internet and blog 1990’s. We travelled a lot, and tasted thousands of newfound wines, imparting our expertise. The reason that I mention this is that I found both spiritual and economic solace in purchasing the pictured glass vase. The artist, a young Romanian named Ioan Nemtoi was both unknown and was producing his vision of an antique wine and water mixing vessel from ancient Greece. It was decades before I thought of putting an LED light inside and making it glow.
The ancients practiced vine selection to soil type, (what we call today: microclimate) as well as practices that we would think of as strange: spicing, perfuming and adding seawater. Theirs was specially selected seawater as they were discriminating Greeks, after all. But what happened between then and now? Well, for one, the Turks took over. Being Muslim, they don’t drink, but they do grow grapes, which is a plus. Wine didn’t do well during their regime. The real catastrophe was the tiny vine devouring bug phylloxera, which ended the wine grower’s livelihood. And, immigration didn’t help, either:
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the kiddos left their tiny towns and came to New York to open Gyro shops. Our gain. Their gain was the young people who went abroad to study winemaking. The wine schools of California and France brought modernity to ancient practices. The unique grapes of Greece remained, but modern flavour ideas brightened the wines for the current drinkers. So, all that sounds well and good even if a bit too cheery. Now why don’t we see Greek wines everywhere? Our little local restaurant or store isn’t raving about the latest assyrtiko discovery. There is a problem, as we shall soon discover. It’s those names. Why couldn’t they name them “Athenian Butter Chardonnay” or “Mommy’s Parthenon Summer Water” or “Bread and Greek Butter”? What’s the deal here? Those Nike vice presidents who are leaving shoe branding to head to the wine business need to do a stopover in Greece. There aren’t large swatches of land that produce the mega volumes needed to satisfy the insatiable American thirst for a newly popular brand. Also, because the vineyards are small the prices tend to hover around 20 bucks a bottle. Good for those in the know, not so much for the newly arrived wine drinker. You must have an advanced degree of curiosity to get into and explore these wines. Here are just a few... TSILILIS (winery) ASKITKIOS (wine) White Assyrtiko (grape) (a-seer-teeko). Region: Thessaly 2016 &17, $16.99. High acid, hot climate grape with full bodied fruit. Serious food friendly white. Resembles dry Riesling, Muscadet and Gruner. Indigenous to Greece. Hasn’t been travelling to be planted in other countries. Great blending wine with Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc. Grown only in Greece. Best unblended and unoaked. Food: a great salad wine with Greek olives and feta. Hot day on the porch wine with light vinaigrette in the salad. A cleansing and refreshing white. Look at the higher alcohol for any Chardonnay addition. Plate of oysters, simple chicken. Steamed clams, grilled trout. Keep it simple, keep it fresh
VASILIS MARKOU (winery) RETSINA, $13.99. Region: Attica. A blend of Savatiano grapes and pine resin. A totally modern interpretation of a much-maligned wine. A must with dolmades. I usually try to avoid retsina like the plague, having tasted too many bad pine tar forest versions. Every now and then you just stumble on brilliance in both grape growing and wine making. Vasalis Markou is one of those rare people with a magic touch. The reason that I wrote this piece was the result of our annual trek to Greek Fest the last week in June. We have a plotted out, step by step tradition. My wife and our friend stand in line for the food. I save three chairs and head for the wine grumbling about their small pours, prices and unpronounceable names. This year there was no wine. My tradition was trashed in moments. Quick! A Joe’s Smoke Shop dash for two bottles of screw top (Advice: always carry a corkscrew) and several cups. The wines weren’t Greek because like most stores, they don’t carry Greek wines. The food was great. The music was great. It somehow just wasn’t the same. There are several spots in Portland where Greek wines live all the time: Emilista 547 Congress Street, which also features classic fine dining menu and a great selection of Greek wines; RSVP at 887 Forest Avenue. They also carry a large selection of Greek wines. (EDITORS NOTE: Layne is a professional in the wine business with over 30 years’ experience. He can be reached at lvwitherell@gmail.com for talks and consulting. His website is //http:winemaniacs.wordpress.com Layne is hosting an event “Layne’s Wine Gig” every 3rd Friday of the month (4.30-5.30) at Port City Blue 650A Congress St. $12 gets you four three-ounce pours and a rollicking schtick of a good time. Be There!)
THIMIOPOULOS (winery) XINIMAVRO (kzee-noh-mah-vroh) (grape), “Young Vines”: Region Naoussa. 2016, $15.99. Means “acid black” Life beyond Mavrodaphne and Retsina. Grape grown only in Greece. Can be dry, off dry, rose or sparkling. Like Pinot Noir or Barbara. Light in colour and body. Light, leathery Pinot Noircombo of both flavours. Modern style a touch of new oak for a sweet kiss. Old style older oak with rustic flavor. Best growing area Naoussa. Have with grilled meat. Lighter, gamey style with Greek dishes. The “young vines” version can pair well with seafood. This is a terrific summer red. TSILILIS (winery) ASKITIKOS RED XINOMAVRO/ CABERNET/SYRAH (grapes) Region Thessaly 2015, $16.99. A modern blend boosting up the flavour of the lighter, ancient grape. A fascinating tasting of “old” and “modern” international styles. This is a new classic of the kiddos coming back from wine school and saying “Hey, dad look what I just found.”
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Mark: My Words By Mark Gatti / Mark’s Hotdogs
The other is currently pursuing his passion for nature, working for the Wyoming Fish and Game Department as a wild-life technician. The one common theme here is that all three of us make our living working outside and are all very happy not to be tied to a desk…. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Who, if anyone, ever operates the food stand after me is thus still a mystery. I am fortunate that I could continue for many more years if still fun, or I could make it a part-time seasonal gig; health permitting. After that, it would be smashing to pass the business on to a young relative in need of money and with a passionate curiosity for street zaniness. Now for a few thoughts on age: young, old, and in the middle...
Who’s going to take over your stand? Another common and more specifically referenced question: Which son is going to take over your stand? The answer to the first question is I don’t know. The answer to the second question is neither one.
I am at that place on the age scale where some people I know would call me old. A few others say I’m still a baby. A unique position it is, and I take pleasure in friendships with buddies all over the age scale. I will cite a few examples I enjoyed recently. Any names mentioned are changed to protect the innocent.
Speaking of my two sons, by nature of their dad being a long-time food vendor, they have had much exposure to hot dog stand culture. When they were very young, I would place them in their car seats after loading up the minivan with all the daily equipment and supplies needed for the workday.
My friend “Micky” has been battling an illness for several or more years. Just in his early 70’s he has slowed down a bit of late, but I take great joy when hanging out with him a few times a month.
Along the way I would stop at Hannaford to get a few more supplies. Once at the store, this meant placing both boys in the one grocery cart I pushed ahead of me whilst towing another cart loaded with supplies behind. The cashiers got a big kick out of my daily routine and naturally cooed over the two youngsters at every chance. Before dropping them off for their daily activities at St. Elizabeth’s day care centre, I would drop off the cart at Tommy’s Park. During this time my oldest son’s favourite television show was Flipper. The dad on Flipper was a Florida Game Warden tasked with frequently chasing down poachers. I’ll never forget the day we pulled up to the stand’s location with eldest son screaming at the top of his lungs “poachers daddy, poachers!” It was the Old Port Workers’ Appreciation Day for all labouring down in our district. Volunteers were handing out free coffee, newspapers, coupons and donuts under a tent in close quarters to my stand. After assuring him that these were not poachers looking to usurp his dad’s business, things settled down happily as we drove off to St. E’s --- each boy with Boston Crème donut in hand and on the face, all compliments of Old Port Worker’s Appreciation Day! Each son did take a turn helping out at the stand in Summer when they got older. They were tasked with taking care of customer drink orders during lunch rush. Personable and friendly, they were a good help to me. Also, a lot of my regular customers greatly enjoyed chatting with them about sports and fishing. My older son even played the role of business consultant as he would successfully convince me to add a trendy popular beverage now and then. My youngest son was a constant hit with his ample people skills and ability to entertain folks with his stand-up comedy routine.
Just this past Saturday I took him to a sports pub where we enjoyed a few refreshments while watching the Red Sox game in rapt intensiveness. We did chat a little bit here and there but the important thing I got out of the visit was we were still together and living in the moment. During a recent hot Sunday, some friends of ours invited us to a cookout at their lakeside camp. Our hostess felt it appropriate to let us know several other friends would be there: all in their 70’s. A fine time was had by all, but I felt some irony when our hostess told my wife that it was “great to have a young man here” whilst I was helping one of the guests navigate the root strewn ground. Of course, my wife had to pipe in “We’re in trouble now if you consider Mark to be a young man!” Now for that irony referenced earlier. This weekend I will be going on another lake outing. This time I will be the oldest person there by far. Quite apt at acting far younger than my chronological age, I’m confident that I once again will fit in just fine. Showing off my social versatility, I am sure to tell all my younger buddies of the quite different (but still fun) time I spent recently with my senior lakeside friends. I remain thankful for all my friends, whatever age. I’m always learning and having fun with them all – young, old, and “in-between”. It is all relative, so they say. Happy Dog Days! Mark G.
However, neither son showed any desire to follow in my footsteps in the wild and wacky world of street food sales. That is fine with me, as you must have passion and nuttiness in good measure to make a long career in this field. Just thinking about all the bizarre northern New England weather and the patience required to deal with some real strange behaviours exhibited by the public was more than sufficient inspiration to make the two boys desire to both go a different career route. Now my two sons are grown men and out of the house. No small accomplishment these days with soaring costs of living. One son has made a career as the top guide for a fly-fishing outfitter out West. He is living his dream and loving it.
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Food For Thought... This is going to be an unusual food column as we do have a few this’s and that’s from Portland, but as we have been travelling we thought readers might like a look at some very special hot dogs... Even more special than friend Mark has served for 36 years here in Maine. Baejarins Beztu Pylsur is Icelandic for “The Best Hot Dog in Town”, and if you believe a review from the UK-based Guardian newspaper, it’s also the best in Europe. We do know we had two lunches at their stand (since 1937) while we were visiting Reykjavík in Iceland recently and the unique hotdogs really stood out. It also prompted a search for what and why is an Icelandic hot dog so special. Our conclusions after some research are three: 1.) The dogs are 75% Icelandic lamb, not the mainly pork or beef ones we find here in the States. 2.) They are served on steamed buns with crispy fried onions on the dog (think the canned ones we buy for green bean casseroles in the States, but made fresh.) 3.) The condiments are special. But don’t take our word or the photos we took on this page for it. Icelandairhotels.com says this: “What sets Icelandic hot dogs apart is that they are made mostly from Icelandic lamb, along with pork and beef. And, this isn’t just any lamb, pork or beef. This is organic, free range, grass fed, hormone free - pick your positive metaphor - Icelandic lamb, pork and beef. The sheep in Iceland literally roam the countryside until the fall eating berries and leaves. Pigs and cows in Iceland live on small loving farms in one of the cleanest, most pristine environments on Earth. And, the hot dogs are made with natural casings so they have the ‘pop’ when you bit into them! “What are the condiments? “Order an Icelandic hot dog as most Icelanders do and yours will be served on a warm, steamed bun topped with raw white onions and crispy fried onions, ketchup, sweet brown mustard called pylsusinnep, and remoulade, a sauce made with mayo, capers, mustard, and herbs. Maybe you are saying to yourself, “Ew, raw onions. I don’t like raw onions!” Like sushi, or other famous dishes that are literally the sum of their parts, you owe it to yourself to try an Icelandic hot dog with everything first, you will most
good, are as unique as our Maine “red snappers” and are still served as they have been from a tiny stand (in all weathers) in downtown Reykjavík. Wanna find out more, including how to order them flown in, along with the condiments? You can do it (isn’t this a wonderful age?). Just visit https://topiceland.com/collections/ local-food-of-iceland but be warned, shipping these dogs overnight ain’t cheap, so instead book a flight and see and do Iceland while you are there... and have some hotdogs, too. Maybe we could get Mark down at Tommy’s Park to stock some for us as well? OK, so closer to home, we were sad to see the final closure of the retail store of Foley’s, later Scattoloni, Bakery on Monument Square on the 2nd of August. The owners are moving operations to Biddeford but from all we’ve been able to determine it will just be to hold classes, bake for special orders and their wholesale customers, meaning those of us missing our walk-in cream horn fix might just be out of luck. This reviewer is a long-time fan of the bakery, but of late was disappointed that hours had been cut (including Saturdays totally eliminated) which, in short, means it got harder and harder to be their customer. We hope things will get settled; the owners will get some family time and find a Portland location and reopen to satisfy our cravings. Meanwhile, look for us over at Two Fat Cats, Standard Baking Company, and when we get time, at Westbrook’s Bakers’ Bench. Speaking of the latter, we are thrilled to find their to-die-for cinnamon rolls at Pat’s Meat Market on Stevens Avenue, but be warned: they only get a few, so call ahead to reserve or prepare to be disappointed. Back next month with a more traditional column.
likely change your tune - we have seen it many times!” Far be it from us to doubt the experts, and for good reason: These dogs are
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Sauntering Without Mat
By Mat Robedee / Up Portland Commentator
(EDITOR’S NOTE---This month’s column should honestly be called Sauntering With Ted and Ivan as we wrote this piece in the absence of our great adventure and outdoor columnist, Mat Robedee. What became of Mat you ask? Well on one of his adventures it seems he had on a heavy backpack, stepped wrong and while his foot stayed stationery, the weight of the pack and gravity meant his body didn’t, leaving him (after hearing a loud “crack”) with a broken fibula and a separated ankle joint. OUCH! He has since had surgery and is recuperating well. He promises to be back next issue (We hope!), too. Meanwhile, Ted and Ivan (the dudes who own Up Portland) just got home from a really fun, adventure-filled visit to Iceland, so we are gonna try our damndest to fill in for Mat with our adventures. Here’s to his speedy recovery!) Iceland, despite its rather chilly name, is one of the hottest tourism spots going these days. Between some internet advertised $832 roundtrip tickets from Boston on Icelandair to cruise ships calling at Reykjavík, going there is all the rage, though to most (including us) before one visits there are a lot of question marks as to what will be found, whether one can speak the language and what to make of their official currency, which is the Icelandic Króna. Add in whether it’s gonna be cold (icy, if you will) or not, what to see and do and it’s all a huge question mark to most. It sure was to us, but it turns out that Iceland is a wonderful, and in many ways magical, place well worth a visit. And in Summer high temps are close to 60, so even comfortable, especially considering Portland’s recent 90-degree streak. There are active volcanoes (Buy the extra ash and gravel insurance the car rental firms offer!) boiling geothermal pools one can only look at (Ouch…way hot at 100 degrees Celsius, which is our 212) and others one can bathe in (a pleasant 98 degrees in our money) and even get supplied silica masks to soften skin. And
there are geysers (which most here pronounce “geezers” as in old folks on this side of the pond). There are also huge waterfalls (above) which have even more water flowing past than Niagara and which let tourists get close enough to actually touch. And the volcanic landscape is so harsh in many areas (at right) that we were told NASA trained their lunar astronauts here before that famous moon landing a half-century ago. But it’s not all just natural wonders. Reykjavík (population about 123,000) is a very European and classy city. Their famous symphony orchestra can be heard world-wide and their stunning opera house (below left) is a glass cage made up of row after row of prisms. In between, they have some awesome shopping, though get an app like XE.com before you go and prepare to convert so you won’t be blown away when you look at a neat jacket or hoodie and see a price tag of 9,800. That’s Icelandic Króna, which coverts to just about $79 American dollars as of this writing. Oh, and everywhere takes Visa, MasterCard and many other cards, so you won’t actually need any real Króna, though they do exist. But while the shopping and music are great and Reykjavík is certainly worth a day or more to explore (Yes, they do have familiar places like Costco, Ikea and we even drove by a TGI Friday’s) get out and see the unfamiliar. We love going to the drugstore and grocery when we travel. You DO go to the grocery when abroad to see what is on offer and what the locals eat, right? But the getting out of town and seeing those natural sights is what makes Iceland so special. For you shoppers, it also means there are some unique gifts (not made in China) you can buy, which explains why we came home with three different kinds of Icelandic salt (one shown at right), a bowtie made from a fish skin we got at one of the sights’ gift shops, and more. So what to do? How to do it? We tend to be adventuresome, so we hired (the word the Europeans use for rented) a car and drove around ourselves. A 24-hour rental with all that extra ash and gravel coverage was right about $210 and it meant we could go as we wished. And yes… Icelanders do drive on the same side of the road we Americans do, unlike the Brits. Don’t want to drive? There are a plethora of organised tours, so if you’d rather, you can catch a bus, take a guided tour or hire a cab or driver. It all depends on how deep your pockets are and the time you have. Just remember that unless you pay a driver or hire a car, you will be at the mercy of a tourguide’s schedule, meaning that if you fall in love with the Blue Lagoon or Gullfoss waterfall (whose name literally means 'Golden waterfall') or Strokkur Geyser (right), how
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long you get to stay will be timed on someone else’s watch; not yours! There is a famous “Golden Circle” Tour in Iceland, and most cruise ships and travel tours do offer their own guided adventures, but we chose to skip what we felt were overpriced things and go ourselves. The choice is entirely yours. Online maps (and yes, Google Maps and GPS do work in Iceland) will tell you how to get to the waterfalls, geysers and other spots. And you can make all your plans before you ever leave Portland. Just log on and do some searching. We even bought our tickets for the Blue Lagoon from home by my sister visiting www.bluelagoon.com It was a bit “commercial” and not cheap, but how often can you bathe for hours in luxury, have drinks in the water at a swim-up bar and come away feeling like you have had a unique experience? So what was the highlight of our recent visit? Four of us went and each came away with different views: from a waterfall where you can get so close you can almost touch the water and a geyser that shoots off less water and steam, but performs more often than Yellowstone’s Old Faithful, to that Opera House with its hundreds of prisms, each of us left Iceland smiling and with a lot of memories… not to mention a desire to return when schedules permit. Oh, and before we wrap up, we will tell you to look elsewhere in this paper and read about that unique and unknown local food treat we enjoyed several times on our visit: The Icelandic Hot Dog. We had ours at a stand that’s been at the same spot since 1937 and is open year round (yes, when the Iceland weather gets icy, too) and has long lines every day. Be sure you enjoy the waterfalls, the geysers, the Blue Lagoon (left) and all the cultural things when you visit Iceland… but above all, don’t leave without a hot dog or two. It’s part of being there and for us a very, very rare case of exploring somewhere that Mat has yet to visit on his great adventures, though we did not climb any mountains. Get well soon!
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The Standard Reviewer By Randy Dankievitch — TV Critic / TVOvermind
Tarantino's Rose-Coloured Nostalgia: Thoughts on Once Upon A Time... In Hollywood A love letter to a long-forgotten era, Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood is writer-director Quentin Tarantino at his most mercurial, a film constantly shifting its attention and its tone, to suit whatever metatextual whim he needs it to suit in any given scene. There are a few overlapping ideas – the almost-ethereal presence of FM radio, a constant longing for a simpler world – but for the most part, Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood wanders from place to place, as contemplative as it is humorous.
lematic sequence featuring Bruce Lee highlighting the latter), to another take on alternative histories, ala Inglorious Bastards and Django Unchained. It is simply intoxicating filmmaking: neither pretentious in its construction, nor pedantic in its delivery. Tarantino clearly loves the material he's riffing on here, and the passion shows. Tarantino's reverence for the film industry, and its history, is a story told across all of his films. In Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood, however, there's a certain amount of bite missing to the story, never able to achieve the enigmatic heights of Pulp Fiction's best moments (or any of Jackie Brown, which I'd argue is his greatest achievement in film, and by a long shot). The “passion” part of passion project takes on an entirely different air in the context of this film – and I'm not just talking about the gratuitous shots of female feet Tarantino once again subjects his audience to. Thin but not hollow, thoughtful but not revelatory, Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood is a fascinating, wandering study of Tarantino's reverence for pop culture, and of the ephemeral qualities we give our cinematic idols. Even though it doesn't necessarily deconstruct these romanticised ideals in interesting ways, it is able to work as a kind of stream of consciousness piece (even when it unexpectedly explodes into some expected Tarantino-style violence in the third act), a meandering, imperfect spectacle of a bygone era.
Led by the performances of its leading trio, Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood gives Tarantino and his performers a virtual playground to express reverence for a time of television production long forgotten. The film follows three main characters – aging TV star Rick Dalton (Leo DiCaprio), his stunt double Clint Booth (Brad Pitt), and Rick's neighbour, the young Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie, who brings such beautiful expression to a wordless role) – on three different days in 1969. Faithfully recreating the iconography of the era, Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood allows these actors to live out Tarantino's fantasy of Western anglo-saxon fantasies: the beautiful blonde actress, the gnarled and under appreciated workhorse – and in Booth, the film's true star, the morally compromised man whose emotions and intentions are layered under a thick, leathered interiority. Strangely enough, it's also the least visually distinctive Tarantino film yet: as it revels in its themes and traditional masculinity, long segments of the film lack some of the iconic tracking shots and dolly work we expect from the most influential filmmaker of the Gen X era. What it makes for is a much looser, often inert film than one would expect: Tarantino clearly loves the 1969 Hollywood setting the film's set in, but his reconstruction of the world feels more palatably superficial than it should be in its attempts to simplify (and deify) the socio-economic dynamics of a complicated time. It is also the whitest cast Tarantino's ever employed, which creates a strange portrayal of a white-washed fantasy, idolizing a world where television westerns still employed horrible racial stereotypes. It's telling that the most repeated, hated word in the film is “hippies,” leading to the kind of regressive deification of Clint Eastwood-types which so much of the entertainment's era is dedicated to. In reality, the only females given voices (outside of a young, intelligent child performer Rick meets) are either members of a cult, foreigners or the almost wordless Sharon Tate, whose character is more a beautifully-performed fantasy of easy celebrity, than it is a dynamic portrayal of a an actress, expectant mother and wife. This is the link between Tarantino's vintage film world, and the progressive world of hippies the movie so virulently despises. All that considered, Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood is a delight to watch; a mix of styles, points of view, and the wandering whims of Tarantino's script, which ranges from historical recreation to absurd fantasy (a borderline prob-
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at Eastern Cemetery
New this year tours at 11 a.m. every day! Join us for a guided walking tour of historic Eastern Cemetery at 11 a.m. every day, weather permitting. Tours start at Congress St. gate. Cost $10; students and seniors (62+) $5; children under 12 free. If those times don’t work for you, email tours@spiritsalive.org and we’ll set up a special tour at no extra charge. Spirits Alive - dedicated to the preservation of historic Eastern Cemetery More info and volunteer opportunities at spiritsalive.org Up Portland 08.19 In Print * On The Web At: www.upportland.com * On Facebook Page 15
Hackin’ The Net By Ted Fleischaker / Publisher I was sitting on a bench one recent evening during our vacation on Queen Mary 2 tuning around on my old faithful portable radio. My portable from Sangean gets FM, AM, Shortwave and Longwave, but the details don’t matter: It’s a radio. While I was tuning around on deck, a couple approached and they asked what I was up to, to which I said “Listening to the radio.” It was then that the younger of them looked at me, and at his partner and said in all honesty, “What is a radio?” I, at first, thought he was joking, but I later found out he was 19 and nope, he’d never owned a radio, much less seen one outside of a car dash… and he only used that to connect his smart phone. This got me to thinking, and asking more young friends. While none admitted not knowing what a real radio looked like, much less having used one (they all were aware of radio) none of them knew a whole lot more than the young guy I met on the ship, whose name I later learned was Natan Kamla, from Brazil. They listened to radio they pretty much all said, but they did not use, know how to use, or for the most part own a real, honest-to-goodness radio. Listening was via apps, computer programmes, satellite TV channels, iPads, and even gaming consoles, but they never thought about listening to radio on… a radio! As an official old guy this no-radio news hit me pretty hard. A 19-year-old who had never recalled having seen an actual radio, and who did not have a clue that Shortwave, FM, Longwave and AM were all different bands, with differing formats and different things on offer. It also made me wonder if my readers here in Portland were aware that radio is still alive and very well, but that not too many folks own an actual radio, aside from in their cars.
the internet, the box we called a radio has, or quickly is, becoming as obsolete as the buggy whip or horse collar. I’m betting in another few years most folks will be like Natan and radios of the type I’ve always known will be consigned to museums. Maybe I’d better stock up on Grade D batteries, too! I recall my first look (make that listen) at Internet radio sometime in the mid1990s, when RealPlayer started streaming KING-FM, Seattle. Soon I could hear BBC Radio 4 from the UK, but back then what few stations streamed all sounded like they were coming from the bottom of an empty swimming pool or tin can. And they started, stopped, spat and started again; all while the listener was stuck hearing garbled music or talk and waiting to see if the sound (usually via dial-up internet) would come in with enough bandwidth to be listenable --never mind enjoyable. Often things did not work, and even when they did, all too frequently the result was nothing anybody normal would listen to. My old Indianapolis pal Andy Granger, who at one point had worked for Apple at their HQ in California, looked me in the face when I complained about the sound and said, “Look! This is being taken apart at the source and sent as bits and pieces down a cable under the ocean or over it on a satellite, and then the pieces get put back together here and it’s supposed to sound right. In truth, this should never work!” Back in the day, Andy was right on. Only we die-hards would even try to tune in via the net --- and we usually came away frustrated at best. But in time, things started to change. Dial-up gave way to faster and faster and faster internet connections. Those old 56K lines switched to 10, 20, 200 and more megs in speed. Dial-up (how many of you recall: “Welcome! You got mail!”?) all but vanished. And at the same time, the pioneering RealAudio format got competition. Each differing system was (and remains) its own proprietary format and works in a unique way, but with every turn of the wheel, things got clearer, more reliable and it became easier to listen online. We all forgot Andy’s caution that “This should never work!” because it does… somehow. Even in cars, on shipboard and elsewhere.
When I was a kid, getting that first transistor, clock radio or bedside radio of my very own was an awesome big deal. I can still recall the day I got my first eight transistor, and I still have the huge (powered by eight D batteries, no less) one my dad bought before we drove Route 66 from the Midwest to LA in 1961. And yep, it still works. Back then, things were built like tanks, including this GE Radio which at one point my sister managed to drop on my Aunt Lucille’s foot while we were at the pool, promptly turning her toenail black and exacting a very pained look, plus some words I’ll not be printing here. There’s even that photo, above, of a very young me sometime in the late 1950s, with the start of my life-long clock collection and my first-ever clock radio. It was a big deal! So what’s my point, besides waxing nostalgic here? It’s to say that thanks to
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And as it all got faster, more fidelity and better sound, that little box I held in such high esteem as a kid (and still on the recent trip) became less and less necessary. Lists which used to run pages long of shortwave frequencies I’d need to tune in anything in mid-Atlantic have dropped to one or two pages one can print online. Now do not get me wrong: in countries with little internet and less power grid, shortwave radio still delivers listeners by the millions… many on solar powered or crank-up radios. Places in Africa, Asia and the Middle East are still tuning in to BBC relayed from remote spots like Ascension Island. Give a read here https://www. encompass.tv/blog/ascension-island-an-island-radio-transmission-station/ for some neat photos and stories: but for most of us the actual radio is
fast becoming an antique as outdated as the ice box or button hook. And while the stations still broadcast in most places, these days a WiFi connection, internet via your phone or a smart speaker will get you everything from the BBC to JIB On The WEB wherever and whenever you want to listen in crystal clear stereo. That’s why there are more and more Natans every day. Folks who might have heard of a radio but not ever seen, owed or actually used one. Though in places like the mid-Atlantic, where ship internet is $45 for 120 minutes and satellite TV just a few channels, there’s a certain fun to going up on deck, pulling up the aerial and listening to the voices and music drifting by in English, French, Spanish, Danish and even languages like Kalaallisut or West Greenlandic, which (in case you were unaware) since 2009 is the official language of Greenland, despite being spoken by fewer than 50,000 people worldwide. It’s all a feeling you won’t, don’t and can’t get many other places, so don’t be shy. Try listening to a real radio sometime, especially if you are someone under 25. And for we “old people” do bear with us if we are OK with a bit more fading and static than internet radio has these days. It’s all part of the charm. Yes, they have figured out a way to make what shouldn’t even work at all, work, leaving some of we traditionalists in the dust.
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Up Portland is edited in Portland and printed the last week of every month in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. We may be contacted at the e-mail or phone number below. While every effort is made to ensure accuracy and fairness, the publisher assumes no responsibility for errors. Liability is limited to the cost of said ad. Ads not cancelled by published deadlines may be billed at agreed-upon price. Ads may be edited or rejected for content at the discretion of the publisher. All items appearing in Up Portland, as well as the name, logos and design are copyright 2019 by BBS, A division of High Speed Delivery Fork Ltd. & Ted Fleischaker and may not be reproduced in any form without prior written approval.
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Processed Media By Randy Dankievitch — TV Critic / TVOvermind
It's Time To Kill the Yearly Sports Game Cycle The first week in August, game publisher 2K released the first trailer for NBA 2K20, the 21st game in the Visually Concepts-developed NBA 2K series, set to release in early September. Set to release in the same rough time window as Madden NFL 20 (the 31st game in the series) and FIFA 20 (the 27th entry), all three titles – the most important sports titles every year – make a strong argument for why Electronic Arts and 2K need to move away from the yearly release schedules they've relied on for three decades.
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NBA 2K20's trailer big claim to fame is its focus on improved player models and accurate, updated rosters: “look how good the sweat looks” is a long-running meme that gains new life watching the trailer for 2K's latest hardwood adventure. The joke is that sports games are released on such a tight development schedule (usually about a year), that the only improvements that can be made are extremely iterative – which begs the question of why consumers continue to purchase FIFA, NBA 2K, and Madden (along with others, like the NHL or WWE series) on a yearly basis, when ostensibly they're paying full retail price for a glorified roster update. What it leads to are strange Frankenstein-esque monster games; titles where bugs and glitches can persist from year-to-year, and secondary modes and features are continuously slapped on as a superficial way to suggest progress or evolution. As we face the end of another console generation, those improvements have become even more nascent and meaningless: light graphical improvements and accurate rosters are all NBA 2K and Madden NFL are promising, with FIFA adding an arcade-like street soccer game to its buffet of game modes (ostensibly rebooting FIFA Street within FIFA itself --- a decision they should've made years ago).
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So where does all the development money go? Like every genre of game, sports games are increasingly reliant on micro transactions to generate profits – Madden, FIFA and NBA 2K are no exceptions, utilising popular (and very similar) card-collecting modes and other features to generate over $1 billion in revenue over the past year. These modes are huge, and borderline predatory in their incessant needling to get the player to spend money to gain an advantage: and in the case of 2K, even has real implications, with the professional league spawned from their popular MyPlayer mode (a mode roundly criticised last year for how skewed its progression was towards microtransactions). The problem is, no matter how much money one spends to build a dominant team full of their favourite players, the joy of playing with them is fleeting: after all, it's only 11 months until the next iteration comes out, and since none of these modes (FIFA and Madden's Ultimate Team, and 2K's MyTeam) allow progress to carry over between years, players are asked again to spend $100 or more to progress up the ladder one more time. Even worse, the servers for these modes are universally shut down after two years: so no matter how much money you spend on your favourite players, the purchase is more of a “rental” than anything real. Moving sports games to a Destiny-like model of a live service just makes sense: offer a one-time charge each year for roster updates and new modes, and then allow players to enjoy the same sense of progress and investment they feel in games like Apex Legends or World of Warcraft. The Ultimate Team modes have already proven the revenue will continue coming in; and with the ability to update games basically at will, there's constant opportunity to optimize code, fix bugs and develop a stronger product over time, instead of trying to wipe the slate clean every 12 months. It would also allow developers and publishers to work out better licensing deals with leagues and players unions: though details of those agreements are often kept under wraps, a more consistent understanding of the product being delivPlease Continue On Page 23
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Media... From Page 22 ered can only lead to more fair negotiations on compensation for the athletes and teams being represented in these games, whose revenue easily reaches the billions (especially FIFA, by far the most popular sports video game in the world). With the next generation of consoles (and Google Stadia's streaming-only platform) looming, there's no better opportunity for sports games to fundamentally transform their business model. In fact, we've already seen EA dip their toes into the water of change, with the yearly updates to the mobile iterations of Madden and FIFA (though those are inherently free-to-play titles, a different animal altogether from the $60 to $120 yearly releases in question).
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Whether these companies will seize the obvious potential in front of them remains to be seen: as the game industry continues to go through dynamic, fundamental shifts in development and publishing, it's all-too-clear that something needs to change.
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Maine Jewish Museum
Exhibition: July 11, 2019 to September 6, 2019 First Friday Art Walk: September 6, 2019 5pm-8pm
Global Warnings
Carving Out Meaning
Fineberg Family Community Room
Spiegel Gallery
Marjorie Moore
Lynne Shulman
Queens usa: A Global Collection Audrey Gottlieb
Third Floor Sanctuary
Photography Curator - Nanci Kahn
Maine Jewish Museum
267 Congress Street, Portland, ME 04101 (207) 773-2339 Monday - Friday 10am-4pm + Sundays 1pm - 5pm or by appointment mainejewishmuseum.org Nancy Davidson, Curator in Residence Nanci Kahn, Photography Curator
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Good coffee and delicious treats always start the day off right! Come see us in South Portland or Portland on your way to work.
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