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Sunday, March 29, 2009

Back to the future







A few weeks ago I attended a Newport city council meeting, held for the purposes of reviewing the Historic District Commission’s task force recommendations on how best to improve &/or streamline the city’s historic preservation procedures. During the course of the discussion, several of the participants expressed concern about new preservation guidelines potentially impacting owners of non-historic properties, which as near as I can tell gets defined around here as being anything built after 1940. Why, it was asked, should the owners of undistinguished, dated buildings like 1950’s ranch houses be subjected to the same preservation standards as the owners of important historic Victorian or Colonial homes? Why couldn’t they be exempted? Why did they have to suffer the same amount of fuss and expense and oversight that dogs the owners of more historically prestigious buildings?

A couple of days later, by chance, I had to go see my dentist, whose office is over on Gibbs Ave. He’s a smart man – film buff, Buddhist, Obama fan - and I always enjoy talking to him, even if it is usually just about my teeth. Anyhow, on my way over, I noticed some construction taking place a few doors down from him. For as long as I’ve lived in Newport that particular lot has been occupied by a large, low, clean-lined and expensive looking brick ranch house. Now two new bombastic, view-blocking McMansions were rising up out of the dirt instead. Too bad, I said to him, that they had to tear down that house on the corner. He laughed. Oh, it doesn’t matter, he said, it was just a 50’s ranch.

Does nobody in this town GET that today’s 50’s ranches are tomorrow’s historic properties? Today’s present is tomorrow’s history. We are tearing down the future’s past. Fifty years from now these buildings will no longer be ranch houses, they’ll be Ranch Houses, and people will be snapping up what few are left standing and restoring them to within an inch of their lives. Not to mention selling them for a lot of money. The 50’s ranch speaks to and is expressive of its own historical moment as surely as Colonial houses represent the 1700’s or Victorian houses reveal the 1800’s.

The pattern of architectural destruction is dismally predictable…Throughout the 19th century Colonial buildings beyond number were torn down because they didn’t conform to the new aesthetic standards of the Victorian era. Then the Victorian buildings got torn down because they didn’t conform to the more modernist standards of the 20th century. When I was a child I used to hear otherwise intelligent & sophisticated people speak approvingly about tearing down those “hideous old Victorian piles”. Down with the Victorians! Down with the Colonists! Down with the past! Then when I got to Newport in the late 1970’s, the old workers cottages of the early century were the excrescence requiring immediate removal. Now the mid-20th century buildings are what’s being torn down. Meanwhile, the buildings that have managed to survive this ongoing architectural auto-de-fe are being breathlessly restored and preserved, from whence they will be traded on the real estate market with the kind of fervor inspired in children by Pokémon cards. It makes my head spin just to think about it.

Because the bottom line is this: the vast majority of these “historic houses” – whether Colonial, Victorian, or Early 20th – have no actual intrinsic historic value other than the fact of their survival of the wrecking ball. They are significant only in that they managed to escape the destruction that eliminated so many of their peers. Most are not architectural masterpieces. Washington didn’t sleep there. They were homes built by and for tradespeople, the middle class, the everyday Joe. They were small shops, farms, schoolhouses, vacation places. The vast majority were not designed by architects, but were simply erected by builders and carpenters with absolutely no artistic agenda in mind, just a job to do. A great deal of what we are so frantically trying to preserve is nothing more than the vernacular architecture of previous eras. Indisputably our sense of our own past would be immeasurably poorer without these buildings. So why are we so determined to deprive the future of us?

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Friday, March 27, 2009

My Inheritance

One of my most precious possessions, what I call my inheritance, is a recipe written in my Nana’s own, European handwriting, for a cake with chocolate frosting.



A simple, not too sweet, Swedish cake (the sesame seeds give it away) and the chocolate frosting, homemade and yummy but what would now be deemed gourmet. No mixes or additives to make it big and puffy. Just really good.






Ada Helena (my namesake) and Knute Salem came to the US through Ellis Island with their firstborn child. Eventually they made a life for themselves with five children. All served in the Navy during WWII, even my aunt. She was a Wave. And my father was quoted several times in the book ‘Flyboys’ by James Bradley. I have my father’s Medal of Honor (awarded for personal bravery) and Distinguished Flying Cross (awarded for extraordinary acts of heroism while in flight). If you read the book, he is Robert ‘Swede’ Akerblom.

But look at this. In my Nana’s recipe, one of the directions is to ‘beat while you sing three stanzas of “Seeing Nellie Home”. Not beat 3 minutes or 200 strokes. No MixMaster or Cuisinart, just your own voice and timing and voila! The cake of your dreams. Try it! (I don’t actually know that song, but I keep meaning to look it up)



If that isn’t the sweetest thing ever, I don’t know what is. Jag Alskar Dig, Ada.

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Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Only in Rhode Island



"Only in Rhode Island”

A couple of weeks ago, one of my associates in the Narragansett office told me that her husband had just purchased a new vehicle and that it was “loaded” with top of the line features. Shortly after buying the car, he was playing around with some of its many features. When using the GPS system, he pressed the “home” button, curious to see if the previous owner might have plugged in a home address. Turns out, he did. The husband made note of the address and later “Googled” it. The search results brought him to the Lila Delman Real Estate website.

It turns out that the previous owner of the car is one of my sellers! Only in Rhode Island!!

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Sunday, March 22, 2009

Staying Centered

What keeps us centered in a shifting world? What are our escapes? And can we still go there?Radio and Newspapers are filled with the bad news, but they are also powerfully comforting resources.
My constant escape, and where I find my extra boost of daily comfort, is WGBH public radio in Boston. Years ago, I began to listen to morning pro musica host Robert J. Lurtsema, the birds! his voice! his long pauses! Now, The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor (weekdays at 8:55am) is my morning pause, for these five minutes, just following the school drop-off, is topped-off with the Poetry Foundation's poem of the day, this 5 minute program is completely blissful.
Sunday afternoons with Sound & Spirit weaves history, myth, and spiritual traditions together with music to take listeners on a journey around the world and through the ages. Great adventures are in store with Marco Werman's THE WORLD program, a joint production of BBC and WGBH.
Finely textured and woven together, GBH is all about outstanding programming that somehow has a power that keeps me centered, no matter what time of day, no matter what is happening.

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Monday, March 16, 2009

Little Known and Liking It

While doing some research recently, I came across this great article in the New York Times Escapes section all about Tiverton.




Tiverton is one of those towns that is easy to miss or dismiss because it is not on the 'island' and often takes a backseat to its neighbor, Little Compton. Yet it has the same rolling meadows, historic stone walls, sparkling salt water beaches and thousands of acres of conserved land like the Pardon Gray Farm,
Ruekers Audubon Preserve, and Weetamoe Woods.




There are only 4 stoplights in all of Tiverton! You can spend a whole day just browsing the shops and art galleries in Four Corners. Then get an ice cream cone at Gray's. You won't be sorry.

Tiverton is less than 30 minutes to both Newport and Providence. And highway access to Boston is right off Main Road and you can be in Boston in an hour or less.



You can find houses in all price ranges. Even if you are not thinking of buying a house, I would recommend you spend a day in Four Corners and see what a treasure it is.

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Friday, March 6, 2009

A Rising Tide



One of my favorite truisms is the phrase 'A rising tide raises all boats'.



Just think about it - if your neighbor has good fortune, be happy! because in the great scheme of things,
his good fortune will eventually reflect on you. Did your neighbor sell her house and yours is still on the market, how great! Our economy is getting better! Did your neighbor get a great job, and you are still unemployed, wonderful! Your turn will be up very soon.



There are many examples all around us of positive things happening in the world. Babies are being born, people are getting married,
people are buying houses they love, and life goes on. Spring is coming and if you look under the snow, like in my yard, you will see
the daffodils and tulips already making their way into the world just like they do every spring. How beautiful!






Don't give up - and a rising tide does raise all boats - because we really are all in this together.

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Sunday, March 1, 2009

Instant Karma



This is just a little story but it is absolutely true. Sometimes things happen in life that reinforce what you already know to be true.

When I was a young woman living on the East Side and putting myself through college, taking classes at RISD and URI, I spent a lot of summer days at the beach. Although I am a Narragansett Beach person through and through, when I lived in Providence I used to go to Horseneck Beach 3 or 4 times a week. At the time, there was a $5 fee - worth it for such a pristine, beautiful spot.



I was living paycheck to paycheck, I had no money saved and was down to my last $5 bill. What to do? Go to the beach and have no money until payday or save the fin and buy food and be responsible.


Back and forth I argued with myself and in the end, I decided one glorious day at the beach meant more to me than 3 or 4 days of mediocrity.

This is the part that always amazes me when I think of it – I got to the beach and waded in to the waves, and I swear to you a five dollar bill came towards me on a wave! My mouth dropped open, I grabbed the fin and KNEW I had made the right decision. Always follow your heart.



This image is always top of mind with me but I was thinking of it in particular because during these somewhat difficult economic times, it is easy to forget that we have to give back to the less fortunate. Don’t forget to feed the birds, donate to the needy and share whatever you can.

I promise, it will all come back to you!

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Photography by Dallas Molerin

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