FairPoint's finances are failing fast

Published in the Portland Phoenix

Two major safety valves in the financial house of cards that is New England's largest landline telecommunications service provider blew last week, leaving FairPoint Communications in a position of significant weakness, even as the company admits that its financial picture will worsen in the short term.

The North Carolina-based company, which bought Verizon's northern New England operations last year, had always made questionable assumptions when arguing it had the financial wherewithal to do the deal. (See "No Raises For Seven Years," November 16, 2007, and "No Raises — It Gets Better," November 20, 2007, both by Jeff Inglis.)

Regulators at the Maine Public Utilities Commission and its counterparts in New Hampshire and Vermont were so concerned that when they approved the $2.3 billion deal, they specified several limitations intended to preserve FairPoint's long-term financial stability.

But recent documents filed by FairPoint with state and federal regulators show that "stable" isn't exactly the right word for its current status.

The company has asked regulators in Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont for permission to miss a March 31 $11.25 million quarterly payment to creditors, saying that while the states' public-utilities commissions had required the payment as a condition of the Verizon purchase, FairPoint's actual lenders don't require any money until the end of June.

"FairPoint is essentially reneging on the agreement," says Wayne Jortner, senior counsel in Maine's Office of the Maine Public Advocate, a state agency charged with defending customers' interests in utilities regulation.

The company is promising to make up the payment by the end of the year, to meet its state-mandated obligation of paying $45 million annually to reduce the heavily leveraged company's debt load. And Jeff Nevins, FairPoint's Maine spokesman, says the request will allow "more financial flexibility." But that flexibility may not help it keep that promise, based on the company's March 4 filing with federal securities regulators.

In that document, the company announced that it is suspending dividend payments entirely, and offered no date on which they may resume. This is alarming for two reasons. First, FairPoint is a holding company designed and intended to pay shareholders the kind of significant dividends earned from operating telecommunications companies (in previous quarters, it has paid as much as 36 percent). The company lost $68.5 million last year — down more than $100 million from a $32.8 million profit in 2007 — but had nevertheless been projecting paying out $93 million in dividends in 2009. The Maine PUC, through spokesman Fred Bever, calls the move "consistent with the commission's order" because it protects "customers against financial issues FairPoint might encounter." It nevertheless is a shift in the company's business model, though Nevins is quick to note that the company intends to continue "returning cash to shareholders over the long term."

But perhaps more important, ordering a reduction or elimination in dividends was one of the tools state regulators had in reserve to force FairPoint to strengthen its financial position if the regulators believed the company was in trouble. Now that tool is no longer available — and therefore, the means by which state officials could try to protect telephone customers is weakened.

"Our biggest concern is that this is not the start of something bigger," Jortner says. "We really need to get some reassurances." He expects to get that data and have formed an opinion based on it by March 13, and the Maine PUC may hold a hearing on March 16.

The picture gets worse. FairPoint is losing customers at a steeper-than-expected rate, which is, in turn, reducing its income. At the same time, FairPoint has warned federal regulators that its troubled transition to a new billing system — which meant delays in sending out bills, leading to receiving payments later than projected — could mean further cash shortages, even taking into account the suspended dividend.

And that's actually a best-case scenario. While Nevins says the billing system is now working properly, dozens of other systems still need to be transitioned. And buried in pages of boilerplate warnings about the future (such as the non-startling "the price of our common stock may fluctuate substantially"), the March 4 filing warns that "Due to, among other things, the size and complexity of our Northern New England operations, . . . we may be unable to integrate the (former Verizon) business in an efficient, timely and effective manner."

Even if they get it working, there will be far fewer customers to serve than FairPoint was hoping for. While numbers are not yet in for the first quarter of 2009, which includes the first months that FairPoint was actually running the show, 97,000 Maine residential customers have dropped their landlines since January 2007, when the sale was announced. Residential subscriber numbers dropped 7.3 percent in 2007, but as the sale approached, the decline accelerated, with an additional 10.5 percent of residential customers dropping service in 2008.

Many of them have gone to cellular phones or telephone service provided over the Internet, often via phone-Internet-TV packages sold by cable television companies. And FairPoint has recently re-emphasized its longstanding position that the key 21st-century telecom technology, fiber optics, is not in its plan — the company told the Wall Street Journal that a private plan for several Vermont communities to build their own fiber network "isn't necessary." Rather, FairPoint plans to bring them much-slower DSL service — eventually.

Press Releases: Countdown

Published in the Portland Phoenix

With last week's news that Portland Press Herald managing editor Bob Crider has been summoned back to the state of Washington to run a Blethen-owned paper there, the countdown to the end of the Press-Herald-as-we-know-it has begun in earnest.

In 2006, the Blethens moved Crider from the Blethen-owned Yakima Herald-Republic, where he had spent nine years as managing editor, to Portland to be the ME here. Now, they're bringing him back to be the top editor in Yakima.

In the advertising and management departments, Blethen family members have already departed; last to go was Rob Blethen, who left his job as director of advertising at the PPH six months ago for a post as the associate publisher of the Walla Walla Union-Bulletin, another family-owned paper.

This withdrawal is unsurprising, but it lays the groundwork for three possible outcomes: two bad, one uncertain, and all three potentially leaving the city without an established daily paper.

• First up, of course, is the continuing prospect that the Portland Press Herald and its Maine siblings might fold entirely, leaving their buildings to a real-estate deal (see "After the Fall," by Jeff Inglis, August 1, 2008).

Richard Connor, a Bangor-raised Pennsylvania newspaperman, continues to claim he is trying to buy the papers, but of his three 30-day letters of intent to purchase them in the past year, two expired because the needed financing didn't come together. The third, signed February 17 — which, like the previous two, included an escape clause in case the money fails to materialize a third time — is just days away from running out. (No other players are in the running, though Connor and the Blethens could sign a fourth letter of intent if they were so inclined.)

If the paper closes, the buildings it occupies might fetch $30 million for their property value alone (see "Herald or Harbinger?" by Jeff Inglis, July 4, 2008). But that's probably a high estimate, given the Blethens' eagerness to get out of Maine, and the economic collapse, which has led to a drop in commercial-property values.

• The second bad possibility is that the Press Herald will continue publishing in limbo indefinitely, but without effective leadership. While plenty of media watchers around town will say that's been true for ages, the perennially just-over-the-horizon appearance of a new owner (who's likely to signal regime change by ordering top management to pack their desks) will surely vaporize whatever clout Jeannine Guttman, editor at the PPH, and Eric Conrad, executive editor of the Kennebec Journal and Morning Sentinel, still hold. Neither is likely to follow Crider to Washington: Both arrived pre-Blethens, in 1994 and 1995 respectively; Conrad left in 2006 for a job in Connecticut but returned to the Blethen Maine fold less than a year later.

• The third outcome — the uncertain one — is what might happen if Connor actually closes the deal. He has been a hands-on editor-publisher in Wilkes-Barre (even writing a 1450-word personal endorsement of John McCain to counter his editorial board's 375-word Barack Obama endorsement; both appeared in the October 26, 2008 issue of that city's Times-Leader).

He is remembered in union circles as a vicious strike-breaker and union-buster (dating back to the late '70s), and though Maine union officials speak of him in positive and even cheery tones, he's driving a hard bargain. His offer: union workers get a collective 15-percent ownership stake in a near-valueless company and the prospect that some of them will keep their jobs, in exchange for a wage freeze, longer working hours, and what even union folk expect will be significant layoffs — on top of the massive staff-slashing that went on in 2007 and 2008.

Whether it collapses, pokes along aimlessly, or takes an all-new form, tomorrow's Press Herald will be nothing like today's.

Gulf War vet 'saved' by Phoenix article

Published at thePhoenix.com; a version was also published in the Portland, Boston, and Providence Phoenixes

Mike Fitzgerald spent 10 and a half years in the Marine Corps. He'll turn 43 tomorrow (March 13), and has been out of the corps since he was honorably discharged in 1997. A Gulf War veteran, he lived in Providence, Rhode Island, after he left the service, and worked as a housekeeper at a VA building there — not just as a job, but as a way of keeping himself "under their nose," he says, so they would know what he needed and be sure to help him.

In January 2008, he moved back to Maine, where he grew up, and began to fight against his country, for his life.

I found all this out earlier today. Yesterday, we published "Soldiers Committing Suicide," by Jason Notte, and just hours later, Mike left me a voicemail on my office phone, saying he's experiencing the same things that a man described in the story had. That man, Lance Corporal Jeffrey Lucey, had struggled with federal Veterans Administration officials to get proper healthcare after his return from Iraq, and had killed himself in 2004.

In the morning, Mike and I spoke for about 15 minutes, in a conversation whose ramifications would take over most of my day, and would ultimately involve me crying quietly to myself in my office, and then writing this short piece.

Diagnosed with bipolar, he has been prescribed lithium and Effexor, but "they won't refill my medications until I take the last pill." And when he calls to order more, they mail it to him, which takes seven to 10 days. As a result, every few months he suffers withdrawal, and then has to go back on the meds.

He told me Thursday that he was in his ninth day of withdrawal, having run out of all of his meds a week and a half ago. "I'm angry," he says, not only for himself but also for fellow Marines like Lucey, who have ended up killing themselves. "These kids didn't get killed over there," he said. Lucey, Mike told me, got "to come home and have the VA kill him."

Mike also gets upset when he sees news coverage of celebrations for troops returning home from Iraq and Afghanistan, because he knows what many of them will face. "In two months, they will be me," he says. "No wonder we're knocking ourselves off."

Mike thanked me over and over again for publishing the article; he told me he had written to local and national news organizations, including e-mailing Katie Couric at CBS News, trying to tell his story. He has contacted Senator Olympia Snowe's staff, and even brought a copy of the Phoenix article to her Biddeford office to show her staff.

After speaking with Mike, I got in touch with Jason, who had written the original story. Jason suggested I call Mike back and suggest a local counseling service for veterans, if I could find one that was not actually part of the VA, with which Mike was having such trouble.

Fortunately, our staff writer here in Portland, Deirdre Fulton, had done a story back in July 2007 about efforts in Maine to help returning veterans with mental-health problems. (See "Coming Home," July 11, 2007) When I asked her which she would suggest contacting first, she immediately told me that I should get in touch with the Community Counseling Center here in Portland. (207.874.1030).

I gave Mike their information, and he promised to call them. Jason Notte, who had written the article, also spoke to Mike for a while.

A little later on, Mike left me a short message saying that he has an appointment with a counselor scheduled for early next week. In the middle of the message, he choked up, and said that between the article and Jason's and my conversations with him, "You guys saved the life of a veteran."

Then I heard from a woman who works in an attorney's office in Bar Harbor. She said she had just talked to Mike, who is a client of the firm, and also thanked us for saving his life. She said her office has been keeping in close touch with him lately, because he was, she said, "close to the edge." She asked about the counseling service I had suggested to Mike, and I gave her that information and the link to Deirdre's story.

Jason and I will continue to check in with Mike, and we'll see how things go from here.

Medical Miracle: Cheaper prescriptions — for free?

Published in the Portland Phoenix

It started out normally: I was filling a 90-day prescription at Hannaford, and my insurance co-pay was $20. But wait! said the woman behind the counter. Was I a Hannaford Healthy Saver?

A what? I asked.

A Hannaford Healthy Saver. If I signed up for this program, my co-pay would drop to $9.99.

How much does the program cost? I asked.

Seven bucks. All I had to do was fill out a form — name, address, birth date, phone number, all stuff Hannaford already had on file — and Hannaford would basically give me $10. I'd make three bucks this time (plus get a coupon book that could help me save another $100), and — since the up-front fee was an annual one — I'd save even more down the road.

The next time my wife or I needed a prescription, it was almost a sure thing that Hannaford would give me more money. Nearly 500 drugs for humans (and even some for pets) are covered in this strange new program, under which 30-day prescriptions for covered drugs cost only $4. Many generic antibiotics are — get this — free. Wal-Mart offers a similar program; so do other supermarkets and pharmacy chains around the country.

But these companies are doing more than saving us money in the short term. They are teaching us how to fix our healthcare system — how to sell at rock-bottom prices and still make a profit.

Competition can be not just on service or product, but price as well. Most supermarkets offer similar — even the same — products and services. Medical professionals do, too, but they don't compete on price — try to think of the last time you saw a medical ad, even for liposuction or corrective eye surgery, that told you how much the procedure would cost.

If doctors posted their prices, competition would drive down costs — and doctors who charged more than average would have to justify their higher price by claiming a better technique, an advanced degree, or more experience. Would quality of care suffer in the name of economy? Only if the government, which regulates the quality of the groceries we buy at competitive prices, dropped its standards for medical care. Consumer protection is necessary at any price point.

It's time to apply this market common sense to the entire healthcare system. Right now, there's no way for a layperson to determine the actual cost of a prescription. The companies involved — manufacturers, insurers, distributors, suppliers, pharmacies — treat their costs as trade secrets.

The closest anyone comes to disclosure is found in the lists of "usual and customary" (U&C) costs. But no drug price is really usual or customary — partly because no two companies agree except by coincidence, but mainly because almost nobody ever actually pays it. Nobody with insurance does, because their insurance plans have negotiated a reduction. Nobody who signs up for $7-a-year discount programs does either, because that's the point of the discount.

And, in fact, the "U&C" charge is not anything close to an actual cost — the prescription I got for $10 had a U&C cost of $175!

That's the killer — and, for people who struggle to afford healthcare, it's a literal killer — the purported cost is not the actual price of providing a service (or its value to others), but rather a negotiating tool to fool others into handing over more money.

Companies like Hannaford can upend this system, not by taking losses or writing checks they can't cash, but by telling customers the truth — how much they really need to charge to make a bit of a profit.

Naturally, Matt Paul, a very friendly and helpful spokesman for the Scarborough-based Hannaford Bros. company, was reluctant to give any details on how much profit the company actually makes. But he would say that instead of the insurance company setting the profit margin for its prescription plan, Hannaford was calling the shots on the costs in the Healthy Saver plan.

It's not enough to make healthcare affordable on its own, but it's a big start.

Stuff you really should know (From a guy who learned it the hard way)

Published in the Portland Phoenix

The biggest - and hardest-to-follow - rule in homebuying is that friendly real-estate agents and mortgage brokers don't actually work for you, no matter how much they act like they do. They work for themselves, and they earn money based on the prices (and interest rates, for brokers) at which the deals close.

This means the real-estate agent wants you to buy a house for the highest price she can talk you into accepting, and the mortgage guy will give you the highest interest rate he thinks you'll agree to.

But if you spend all your cash on the down payment, and lock up all your monthly income in a mortgage payment that's too high, you'll become "house-poor" — you'll have a house, but no money to improve it or fix anything that might break, and you'll risk being unable to make the payments if unforeseen expenses crop up.

So, buyer, beware - and be patient. Don't let other people pressure you into something you don't want, and when you find something you do want, bargain with them to get the best deal for yourself.

Your real-estate agent will ask what your price range is. And then she'll try to show you houses with asking prices "just a little more" than that. That's her upsell trick - if you fall in love with a house that costs more, your emotions might take over, and she'll make a bigger commission - for ignoring your initial request.

Once you've found the right house, your agent will start negotiating for you. She'll probably ask "How high are you willing to go?" But your answer is not just giving her information that can help her make a deal on your behalf; it's giving her tacit permission to set your highest price as the final amount (which makes her a better commission). Just tell her what your offer is at that moment.

If a counteroffer comes back, consider it - on your own. Multiple rounds of offers and counteroffers are quite normal - though your agent may push you to make big concessions to close the deal (so she gets paid sooner, and for less work).

Mortgage brokers will pull similar tricks, trying to get you to take a higher rate - which gets them better pay. If you want something lower, keep pushing, and keep waiting.

Above all, remember that right now, houses aren't moving. Agents and mortgage brokers are sitting idle, hoping to close deals to get some income for themselves. So drive a hard bargain - even with the people who are "on your side." If you make it clear that your offer is your offer, and you're not moving, your agent will work really hard to close the deal. If you are unambiguous about wanting a lower interest rate or better terms, your mortgage broker will step up to the plate for you. But you must make it plain that you know the market favors you, and you're willing to wait.

Media discussion on MPBN's MaineWatch

Aired on Maine Public Broadcasting Network's MaineWatch

Press releases: Confusion and upset

Published in the Portland Phoenix

The big Maine media news is that Central Maine Morning Sentinel executive editor Eric Conrad fired reporter Joel Elliott on January 26. (Disclosure: Elliott is a friend and a fellow member of the Maine Pro chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists.)

Since then, Elliott (who had been at the paper since June 2005) and several Maine-media watchers have criticized Conrad's action.

There appears to have been longstanding trouble between Conrad, a former managing editor at the Portland Press Herald who left briefly in 2006 and then returned to take the helm at the PPH's sister papers, the Morning Sentinel and the Kennebec Journal, and the career-minded Elliott, who used a personal "vacation" last year to report from Pakistan for the New York Times and the San Francisco Chronicle.

The dispute ultimately comes down to whether Conrad is too milquetoast or Elliott too aggressive. Elliott says Conrad used complaints from sources to justify disciplinary action, suspending him repeatedly over the past year and ultimately firing him.

The three main complaints relate to a May story in which Elliott quoted the Waterville police chief disparaging Colby College's student-discipline practices, which the chief denied saying; an August story in which he quoted a special assistant attorney general saying something she later claimed was off-the-record; and a September story in which he quoted a Colby College guest speaker saying something a Colby public-relations official suggested could have been interpreted as disparaging the people she was talking about — who had no connection to Colby.

Elliott, who is challenging his termination through his union, says the stories were accurate, and the paper has so far taken no action to suggest otherwise; the stories in question have not been retracted or corrected, online or in print.

He says Conrad should have supported his reporter, but instead sided with powerful local interests — the Waterville police chief, a state official, and the college.

In the Colby situation, unnamed college officials asked Conrad not to assign Elliott to write any stories at all relating to the college. While that in itself is a remarkable request — and even more remarkable for Conrad's mention of it in Elliott's termination letter — Elliott makes two noteworthy accusations.

First, he observes that Conrad's wife works for Colby, which could suggest a conflict of interest — pitting Conrad's obligation to serve his readers against accommodating his wife's employer. (Not to mention, of course, the standard pressure to "play nice" a heavyweight non-profit institution can put on its local newspaper.)

Second, and most powerful for non-conspiracy-theorists, Elliott notes the bizarre timing of the request. The last piece he wrote about Colby was in mid-October, a full three months before Colby asked Conrad to bar Elliott from covering the college. As it turned out, there wasn't much danger of that: a week later, Elliott was fired.

Conrad declined to comment on any aspect of the situation, citing privacy concerns (even though Elliott has repeatedly waived confidentiality — including once allowing several newsroom staffers into a disciplinary meeting with Conrad).

Conrad's reluctance to talk about Elliott is reasonable; but his failure even to directly refute the charges laid against him only serves as fodder for further questions. By failing to explain his actions, Conrad, whose newspaper promotes transparency and accountability in those it covers, appears to be putting himself in a situation that — if not compromising — is certainly uncomfortable. And as most in the media realize, impressions often assume a reality all their own.

Judge dismisses RNC protest case

Published in the Portland Phoenix and the Boston Phoenix

Portlander Paul McCarrier, an activist with the Black Bird Collective and the North East Anarchist Network, Bostonians Molly Adelstein and Kate Bonner-Jackson, Drew Wilson of Worcester, and three others were among roughly 20 people arrested September 1, 2008, at the intersection of 6th and Wall Streets in St. Paul, Minnesota during the Republican National Convention. Police alleged that they had participated in a roadblock four blocks away, and charged them with unlawful assembly, impeding traffic, disorderly conduct, and obstruction of a legal process.

The defendants — who became known as the "Wall 7" — were in St. Paul during the RNC because, as Wilson puts it, "we think that our government should be held accountable for the crimes it has committed." They weren't released from jail until the last day of the convention.

Along with many of 800 others arrested (including journalists, a convention delegate, and a convention security guard), faced misdemeanor charges, 40 percent of which have since been dropped. More than 20 people — including the "RNC 8" activists who coordinated protests and protest support — face felony charges.

The Wall 7 were offered plea deals — the chance, says Bonner-Jackson, to "plead guilty to something you didn't do" — but, unlike many others, didn't take them. With legal advice and support from the National Lawyers Guild, Minnesota activists Community RNC Arrestee Support Structure (CRASS) the Seven, relative strangers, demanded a collective jury trial, which was scheduled for January 20, inauguration day.

But the case was doomed because the Wall 7 and other RNC protestors had demonstrated wearing masks, helmets, and padding for both protection and anonymity — the familiar "black bloc" protest tactic. As a result, witnesses couldn't identify who had done what in the streets of St. Paul, and the judge dismissed all the charges.

"Police had no basis for the vast majority of arrests made during the RNC," said defense attorney Jordan Kushner said in a press release after the trial ended. "The judge in this case decided there wasn't even enough evidence to require the defendants to put on any evidence and allow the case to go to a jury."

Bonner-Jackson (who works with Boston's Food Not Bombs group) is "kind of disappointed" their day in court didn't include the chance to explain what they were doing, but she's "not arguing" with the ruling.

"We did nothing wrong. We went there for good reasons. We did something right," says Worcester community activist Wilson.

The Wall 7's victory is significant in that it opens the courtroom doors for other protestors who've declined plea bargains. CRASS, meanwhile, is now organizing arrestees to sue authorities for wrongful arrest and use of excessive force.

Self-discovery
What the Wall 7 learned in Minnesota

The Wall 7 learned a few things for their next protests, too:

During protests, they should pass out flyers and talk to passers-by about what the protest is about, and why the demonstrators are dressed in protective clothing.

Creating positive community-support structures works: activists set up health clinics, hot-meal services, Internet access, legal observers, street medics, bicycle sharing, and shared housing during the RNC, and community support for those on trial afterwards.

Sticking together really helps, while being arrested, when in jail, upon release, and during the trial.

Hugging irritates jail guards, who say it's not allowed, and call it "stupid."

The public at large is willing to accept a startlingly high level of police brutality toward citizens.

Being arrested, even when it includes being pepper-sprayed, isn't as bad as they thought it was.

Turnpike tolls go up - again

Published in the Portland Phoenix; co-written with Katrina Botelho

As if living in Maine wasn't expensive enough, on Sunday, tolls on the Maine Turnpike will increase for the second time in four years, and a year earlier than originally planned.

So prepare to pay more, or drive slower. The Maine Turnpike Authority (MTA) is pushing you to buy an E-ZPass. Their campaign includes TV ads that describe the program as "too good to pass up" and suggest that people who wait in line to pay cash at toll plazas are lame losers. (Naturally the commercials don't mention the public-transit options, which cost even less, and lower your carbon footprint to boot.)

The pay-as-you-go (cash) toll rate will be $1 at every exit where the tolls are now 60 cents (a 67 percent increase), $2 at the York plaza (up 15 percent from $1.75), $1.75 at New Gloucester (up 40 percent from $1.25), and $1.25 at the West Gardiner interchange between I-95 and I-295 (up 25 percent from $1).

If you want a discount, you'll have to open your wallet before you get on the highway. First, you'll have to buy an E-ZPass device, which costs $25. You can then choose to pay the commuter rate, a flat quarterly fee for unlimited travel between any two exits, or front the system at least $20 in toll pre-payments at a discounted rate per toll. You pay in advance, but you pay less than you would if you used the cash lanes.

The MTA adopted this fee structure in preference to an alternate plan that would have been more expensive for commuters and might have pushed more drivers to public transit — for example the ZOOM bus, which runs from downtown Portland to Saco and Biddeford.

Surprise: the MTA didn't want to encourage that; they need the money. This toll increase is projected to raise $20.1 million, ostensibly to be spent on highway and bridge repairs. But be skeptical. The MTA faces skyrocketing maintenance costs (for example, road salt costs 83 percent more than it did four years ago), and needs to come up with $12 million in cash by November to offset a recent drop in its credit rating.

Little wonder, then, that the MTA decided to reschedule the toll hike for this year, rather than 2010, as originally planned. But they might get what's coming to them if drivers decide they've had enough, and decide to leave home or work earlier instead of paying to rush.

Turning off the Pike might be even easier than it seems. The trip from Saco to Portland is the same distance, though admittedly nine minutes longer, if you take Route 1. But if you save the dollar, you're effectively paying yourself $6.67 an hour for driving. Sounds like a pretty good rate.

Fretrosexuals: Reconnecting can be fraught with peril

Published in the Portland Phoenix, the Boston Phoenix, and the Providence Phoenix

Some people really enjoy the potential of reconnecting with folks from the past, and I'm usually one of them. Through the wonder of the Internet, old friends and I have found each other. When I see such a request in my inbox on Facebook, I almost always immediately click "Confirm." Of course, those reunions haven't been sexual — just friendly. But the prospect of a reconnection with one person has left me conflicted.

More than a decade ago, my relationship with "Anne" ended. Ours was the longest either of us had been in to date, and we had seriously contemplated our future together (marriage, kids, house, all that stuff). Ultimately, though, it finished badly.

While from time to time I have wondered about what ever happened to her, I've never tried to get in touch with her, and she has never contacted me. We have a few friends in common, from whom I have heard ultra-brief updates every few years — "Saw Anne the other weekend" or whatever — and maybe she's gotten the same about me. But that was the extent of our "contact," if you can even call it that.

Then last fall, thanks in part to those friends in common, Anne popped up in my "People You May Know" box on Facebook. Of course, I looked at her profile: she's married, living near Boston, and her photo shows her with a big grin amid a group of friends. All that's great: time has healed many of my wounds (though, I find, not all). I don't wish her ill. I might even have a drink with her if we run into each other somewhere, to catch up. But I'm not proud of how I behaved all those years ago, and I don't want to revisit those times.

Beyond that, I don't suffer from the illusion that we have much in common any longer. (Apart from our memories of what happened between us, which are probably more similar than either of us might ever admit.)

Too much time has passed, and what I did in the years since would have happened very differently, if at all, had we stayed together. While I've now settled down and gotten married, the person I am today owes more to the fact that things ended with Anne and I got on with my life than to the fact that we ever were together.

So if we did run into each other again, and caught up over lunch or a drink, I wouldn't expect us to stay in touch, much less to become friends. And I (and our respective spouses) sure would be nothing less than astonished if we wound up in bed together.

Given all that, Facebook is more of a get-in-touch-and-stay-in-touch kind of site. Privacy settings aside, anyone who is a "friend" can see my status and other information as I update it. Distant though it is, I'm not sure if that's a level of connection I want with Anne.

So I decided not to initiate contact. After about a week went by, I assumed she had seen me in her "PYMK" box and made the same decision. Not so. Another week later, I got a friend request from her: a short, friendly note ending with "It's been a looooong time . . . "

Waiting game
That was at the end of September. It has now also been "a looooong time" since her friend request, and I still haven't clicked "Confirm" — or "Ignore."

But this dallying has only made matters worse. Every time someone sends me a friend request, I have to face Anne, lined up first in the "Friend Request" queue. And all the well-meaning friends I already have on Facebook deluge me with kajillions of pokes, thrown sheep, drinks, and other application requests — never knowing that every time they do, I have to face Anne then, too.

(Almost) every time I see Anne's request, the debate begins again. If I click "Confirm," then she'll be able to see photos, videos, notes from other friends, all kinds of stuff that I'm not sure I want to share with someone who's not, technically, a "friend."

On the other hand, if I ignore her request, then I'm putting up the Berlin Wall, severing completely a chunk of my past that, while hanging on only by the barest tendril, was still somehow a connection.

Then again, by virtue of the fact that I've taken this long to make any decision at all, Anne probably thinks I've long since clicked "Ignore," and has written me off. The terrible irony is that, as a result of Facebook, I've thought about her more — and more often — in these past few months than I had in the last decade.

One last wrinkle: if you're wondering whether my wife knows about all of this, the answer is yes. She actually brought up the bizarre topic of what do to about old loves in new media because she was wondering if an ex-boyfriend was ever going to show up online. To date, she hasn't had the pleasure.

Press Releases: Kill your antenna

Published in the Portland Phoenix

Listen, TV broadcasters: I've had enough of your pleading with me to call for a coupon to help me handle the "DTV transition." You're wasting my time — it doesn't affect me. And I have lots of company — though president-elect Barack Obama has asked for a delay to make sure everyone can participate, the change (shifting TV transmissions from analog to digital signals, requiring an antenna adapter) will affect only about 15 percent of Americans, according to government stats. (Everyone else has no TV or a digital TV, or gets their TV programming over cable, satellite, or the Internet — none of which will change one bit.)

But still, TV stations need all the viewers they can get, to keep ratings up so they can charge advertisers more money. And the public owns the airwaves, meaning we need to know how to access what's being broadcast over them.

Most of the purpose of this whole crazy undertaking is to use the airwaves more efficiently. Compared to digital signals, traditional analog transmissions consume more of the broadcast spectrum for an equivalent amount of information, so converting to digital gives us, the public, a net gain of available airwaves. From that surplus, the government has kept several frequencies to itself for emergency broadcasts, but sold most of the rest to private companies for a total of $19.6 billion, which funds a lot of government communications-infrastructure efforts. (A few spare "white spaces" in between allocated frequencies are also available to any user, which provides room for experimentation of the sort that launched the Wi-Fi revolution.)

A lot of those re-allocated airwaves will soon be used to provide long-distance wireless (or cellular) Internet access that can efficiently reach rural areas. It is already happening all over northern and downeast Maine, and it's a great way to bring far-flung parts of the country into the 21st century.

We should do more of this, and we know how to. Let's get all the spectrum back from TV broadcasters.

Face it: broadcast TV is hardly the way of the future. TV itself is fine — tons of people, including me, watch TV all the time. But we are not using our airwaves to their best, highest possible purpose. We could be using them — and the money made by selling rights to them to private Internet providers — to give Internet access to every American, everywhere in the country. We could subsidize Internet access for poor people, ensuring that they can participate fully in our economy and our society.

But of course the broadcasters want to hang onto their one-way communication monopoly. They definitely don't want a completely level content playing field, in which video producers tiny and huge would have equal access to every household. But they are our airwaves — not the broadcasters'. Let's use them for something real.

Press Herald Watch
Sale postponed The financing the prospective purchasers had hoped for has not yet come through. There is speculation in some quarters that they are waiting for a real fire-sale price before closing the deal. Maybe that's true, or maybe banks just aren't that excited about lending money to a questionable business model in a terrible economy.

Arbitration delayed Because the sale is postponed, so is arbitration in a dispute the Blethens have with their employees' union, over whether a new owner must continue to honor the existing union contract.

New free daily paper The owners of the Conway Daily Sun in New Hampshire have announced that sometime in the next few weeks there will be a new free daily paper in our town, the Portland Daily Sun. It will circulate about 5000 copies, have a news staff of two reporters and an editor, operate out of Wi-Fi-enabled coffee shops and a Munjoy Hill apartment, and print in Conway.

Entertainment on the cheap: Where to go without breaking the bank

Published in the Portland Phoenix

You've paid your rent and your tuition, and bought your books and groceries. Yes, you're broke. But that's no fun. Now what?

Fortunately, Portland is rife with budget-friendly activities and events. Some places have weekly specials — we've compiled a bunch here — and there are plenty of others, as well as venues with occasional deals. Here's what to look for, and when.

Look your best
JONATHAN DOUGLAS SALON AND SPA (345 Fore St., jonathandouglasspa.com) has $99 "economy crunch packages" combining several services for one price. Choose "The Feel Good," with a basic manicure and pedicure, shampoo, haircut and style, and a brow wax, or unwind with "The OohLaLa," a one-hour Swedish massage and a "Get Acquainted" facial.

O2 SALON AND SPA (605 Congress St., 02salonandspa.com) has "recession packages," too, including a 30-minute massage and a pedicure for $80 (a $10 savings).

STUDIO ONE LTD. (151 Middle St., studioone-portland.com) is giving new clients 15 percent off services by Kate and Robin.

Each week GOODWILL STORES (244 St. John St., in the Union Station plaza; find others goodwillnne.org) mark many of their clothes and accessories (and other items) as half-price with special tags.

And on Wednesdays, the SALVATION ARMY STORES in Portland (49 Alder St. and 30 Warren Ave.) have half-price specials on marked items.

Refuel the engine
For a quick pick-me-up, grab a "recession special" coffee at FREAKY BEAN COFFEE COMPANY stores in Westbrook (855 Main St., freakybean.com), Scarborough (264 US Route 1, and 2 Cabela Way), and South Portland (740 Broadway) — it's 99 cents for a small drip coffee and $1.99 for a small latte.

Also calling its deal a "recession special" is BRIAN BORU (57 Center St., brianboruportland.com), which offers lunch for $7. That includes a soft drink; if you want to upgrade to a local draft beer, add just $2.95.

O'NATURALS in Portland (83 Exchange St., onaturals.com) has specials just about every night, under their "economic bailout plan." If you work at nearby businesses, stop in on Mondays for 20 percent off (show your business card, nametag, or pay stub); Tuesdays they give 20 percent off with a college ID. Wednesdays are family night, with a free kid's meal if you buy an adult one. Thursday two guys can go in and buy one meal and get a second free; Saturday the same is true for two women. And Friday is "date night," when any couple gets 20 percent off.

On-the-go diners will want to stop by the new JOE'S NEW YORK PIZZA (420 Fore St., joesnypizza.com) to check out their slice-salad-drink combo deals.

At ANTHONY'S ITALIAN KITCHEN (151 Middle St., anthonysitalian.com) you can buy one dinner and get the second at half price on Friday and Saturday nights.

Westbrook's Italian-cuisine standby, Casa Novello (694 Main St., 207.854.9909), has two-for-one entrees on Mondays and Tuesdays.

Back in Portland, SHAY'S GRILL PUB (Monument Square, shaysgrillpub.com) has a $4 quesadilla special on Mondays.

Every day is special at the EMPIRE DINE AND DANCE (575 Congress St., portlandempire.com), with a $6 burger deal that includes fries. Bring a friend — it's two small burgers, not one big one, so it's perfect for splitting.

There's always free popcorn at ROSIE'S (330 Fore St., 207.772.5656) and THREE DOLLAR DEWEYS (241 Commercial St., threedollardeweys.com) — though the management obviously prefer if you order something to eat or drink with your popcorn. And if you order a drink at the ARMORY LOUNGE (20 Milk St., theregency.com), you get free snacks.

The MAINE SQUEEZE JUICE CAFÉ (5 1/2 Moulton St., 207.775.6673) sells 16-ounce containers of really yummy soup for $3 (and, while this is moving into the next section, amazing flavor-explosion smoothies for $5).

Quench your thirst
The WHITE HEART (551 Congress St., thewhiteheart.com) has your back when it comes to drinking on the cheap. Every night they offer Portland Phoenix readers' favorite drink special: $4 for a PBR pounder and a shot of Evan Williams. Mondays are half-price wine night, when certain bottles — not glasses — are discounted. On Wednesdays, get $3 well drinks, and on Thursdays pay $5 for a PBR pounder and six wings.

The GREAT LOST BEAR (540 Forest Ave., greatlostbear.com) has "short" beer nights on Mondays and Tuesdays — get a 22-ounce draft for the price of a pint. And on Thursdays, selected pints are $2.50 between 5 and 9 pm.

At MESA VERDE (618 Congress St., 207.774.6089), Thursdays bring $6 margarita pitchers — which are nicer when it's warmer, we'll observe, but are still pretty good in wintertime.

On Mondays and Tuesdays at the DOGFISH BAR AND GRILLE (128 Free St., thedogfishbarandgrille.com) has $2.50 drafts from 4 to 7 pm.

If you're up late, CHEF ET AL. (408 Forest Ave., chefetal.com) has you covered. After 10 pm, appetizers are half price, and drinks are $1 off with a college ID. (The discount is also available to teachers and restaurant workers, regardless of student status.)

And UNA not only offers $5 specials on beer, wine, martinis, and other cocktails from 4:30 to 7:30 pm every day, but extends the deals all night long on Tuesdays. And on Thursdays there are even more, with $3 beers.

Catch a flick
Look, we all know about Hulu.com and the various TV shows and films there for free viewing (with just a few ads). But if you, like us, believe that it's better on the big screen, Tuesday's your day at the NICKELODEON (1 Temple St., patriotcinemas.com), with $5 admissions all day and all night to every film.

And if the film you want is no longer in theaters, it's certainly at VIDEOPORT (151 Middle St., 207.773.1999), which has daily rent-one-get-one-free deals: Mondays you can choose your freebie from horror, incredibly strange, sci-fi, thriller, or Japanimation; Tuesdays pick an action or classic film; Wednesdays pick comedy or foreign; Thursdays get a free film from any category; and on Saturday and Sunday, rent two and get one free from any category. (Also, on Fridays, you can get a kid's video free without even renting another film!)

Dance it up
Fridays are "college night" at the HIDDEN DOOR (the nightclub inside Styxx, at 3 Spring St., thehiddendoorportland.com), with no cover if you show your college ID. Also, there are 50-cent drafts until midnight, and a not-to-be-missed human disco ball.

There's tons of no-cover karaoke all over town. For just one example, head downstairs at the ASYLUM (121 Center St., portlandasylum.com) on Wednesdays. Thursdays, the downstairs club at the Asylum has a retro dance party with no cover.

Another no-cover spot with lots of variety (stand-up comedy, live bands, and an acoustic open-mic) is SLAINTE (24 Preble St., myspace.com/slaintewinebar), which also has half-price glasses of wine on Mondays and Tuesdays, and beer specials Monday through Thursday.

And don't forget...
If you'll forgive the shameless self-promotion, we suggest you don't miss OUR LISTINGS — every week, we compile everything that's going on in greater Portland, southern Maine, and seacoast New Hampshire, complete with times and costs. To stay current, pick up the Portland Phoenix every week and choose your favorite activities!

Exploring deep within

Published in the Portland Phoenix

Hannah Holmes, the Maine-born, Portland-dwelling science writer, naturalist, and friend to all animals has turned her lens deeply inward in her latest book, The Well-Dressed Ape: ANatural History of Myself. In the process, she not only reveals more of herself than perhaps might be generally considered polite (describing the color not only of the "fur" on top of her head but also elsewhere) but also uncovers deeper truths about all of us.

As much memoir as biology, Holmes compares her interactions with other humans against the ways other animals interact. We are, it turns out, definitively animalistic in our tendencies toward territory (whatever we have, we protect, protect, protect) but at the same time bizarrely unique (what we consider desirable in a location is not based on food productivity or defensive characteristics, but some external message of "status").

It is definitely fascinating — and amusing — to have the human animal explained in the detached, clinical prose of science, but most interesting, and in excellent supply from Holmes, is something we can never get from other fauna: the information from within the brain and the senses and the body of what the life of one of those creatures is actually like.

The Well-Dressed Ape: A Natural History of Myself | by Hannah Holmes | Random House | 351 pages | $25

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