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Delmarva Review: Tidepool Strata Near Half Moon Bay by Judith McCombs


Tidepool Strata Near Half Moon Bay

I was there at first light, in the minus tide,
picking my way across weed-strewn strata
risen from sea. Wave crests, far out;
white gulls at the edge of a bay revealed,
shore beyond shore. A grey shape lifted
from hidden fissures, heron, great blue,
pterodactyl beak gliding and stabbing.

Fault lines of granite angled me out:
at my feet a skittery n
ew-winged cloud
of insects risen from chasm. I saw
how barren the channels where alien landwater
ran undersea; how fierce with life
the crevices, hollows, inlets where waves
surged and withdrew, flotsam and foam.

I stepped between weed-mounds, myriad black snails
coiled in their pearl, small anemones shut
to the air, fisting their grit-studded muscle.
I bent to the tidepools where sculpin hovered,
the sidelong hermit put forth its black limbs,
and the great anemones opened their ancient
animal flowering, corolla and mouth.

I gave thanks for the ancestors, foam cell and breath,
for the bones and the softness; for the deep flood-tides
of the young, the slowing blood-tides of the old.
For the lessons of stone, breaking down, and of water,
flowing on. For the unseen life that feeds,
and the seeing. For the great primordial light
that pulls the tilting earth; for the lesser
light pulling and heaping the seas. For all this,
and the salt in my mouth, the sea in my hands.

By Judith McCombs

Maryland poet Judith McCombs has been published in numerous literary journals. Her fifth book is The Habit of Fire: Poems Selected & New. She has held NEH and Canadian Senior Fellowships and won the Maryland State Arts Council’s highest Individual Artist Award for poetry, in 2009. She teaches at The Writer’s Center.

The Spy is pleased to reprint Ms. McCombs poetry from The Delmarva Review, Volume 8 (2015). The literary journal is published by the Eastern Shore Writers Association with additional support from private contributions and a grant from the Talbot County Arts Council. Print and digital editions are available from libraries, local bookstores, and For information, visit:

So Totally Great: The Mainstay & Garfield Join Forces to Host PigPen


The very hip and popular PigPen Theatre Co., the theatrical indie-folk favorites from New York City, will be in concert presented by “The Mainstay at The Garfield” at The Garfield Center for the Arts on High Street in Chestertown, Maryland on Saturday August 27 at 8:00 p.m. Admission is $15.

Tickets are available at The Garfield box office, 410-810-2060 or can be purchased online at

Pigpen theatre co 3For more information you can call the Garfield or The Mainstay at 410-639-9133. Information is also available at the Mainstay’s website

Calling themselves “A Band of Storytellers,” PigPen Theatre Co. blurs the lines between acoustic indie folk-rock and ensemble theatre. Their imaginative writing, gorgeous vocals, irreverent humor and their creative theatricality have built them a strong concert following and gained them enormous popularity in the NYC theatre scene.

In addition to new covers of old favorites and songs from their recent recording “Whole Sun”, their concerts this summer have previewed five songs-in-progress for their new theatre piece “The Hunter and the Bear” which opens in New York in December.

The group began creating their unique brand of theatre, music, and film as freshmen at the Carnegie Mellon School of Drama in 2007. They have since produced their original plays in New York City and toured the country – earning them critic’s picks from The New York Times, Time Out New York, Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, Boston Globe, and many more.

PigPen’s debut album, “Bremen”, was named #10 album of the year in The Huffington Post’s 2012 Grammy preview. Following that, they went on tour playing to sold-out crowds across the country. American Songwriter premiered their follow-up EP, “The Way I’m Running,” in 2013 while the band was playing a series of concerts that became one of the most popular residencies of the past decade at the legendary Schuba’s Tavern in Chicago.

In 2015, PigPen released their sophomore album, “Whole Sun” and performed at Mumford & Sons’ return to the Gentlemen of the Road Festival. They also made their feature film debut last year in Jonathan Demme’s “Ricki and the Flash” starring Meryl Streep and are working with Writers House, one of the world’s leading literary agencies, to develop their debut children’s novel.

“The Mainstay at The Garfield” is a new arts partnership in Kent County. Rory Trainor, Executive Director of The Mainstay says “The Mainstay at the Garfield brings two important arts organizations together and allows them to bring new and exciting works to Kent County.”

Tess Hogans, Theatre Manager for the Garfield spoke glowingly of the band and of the partnership that is making this concert possible, “This is absolutely fantastic. Not only do we get to partner with The Mainstay, but we are bringing this incredible, Brooklyn-based group to Chestertown! I was able to see them a year ago in Annapolis and they completely blew me away. I knew we had to try to find a way to bring their unique sound and perfect harmonies to the Eastern Shore.”

Get a Life by Al Sikes


We live in noisy times.

Network connectivity is virtually universal and each day we seem to do less and the applications (apps) more. Bots organize our affairs, global positioning guides us, and we can connect with our friends without leaving the house.

I too let ingenious apps lessen my time spent with newspapers, maps, and telephone calls among other activity. But, what I don’t do is stay inside.

Outside, this summer, was special. A friend and I camped along the incomparably beautiful Smith River in Montana, pushing off in a raft each morning to fly fish for brown and rainbow trout. My wife and I hiked along and fished the Beaverkill River in the Catskills of New York. We especially enjoyed brief but memorable sightings of bear and wild turkeys and the swift cool waters of the river were a relief on hot days.

When was the last time you were thrilled by an unexpected encounter in nature?

Most people today would have to say “never,” as they don’t camp or hike mountains or seek intimacy with nature. Fortunately, for me my experiences began early and then became an essential part of my life.

When my age was still in the single digits, I was thrilled by the hard pull of my fishing line. My Dad had taken me to fish for crappie on Kentucky Lake. It was, for me, and I suspect for Dad, a very special moment.

A few years later, walking behind my Dad, I watched bird dogs point a covey of quail and then was awed by the covey rise. I was so awestruck that the shotgun stock never touched my shoulder.

My life has been filled with moments that touched the spirit. Moments that pulled me about as far as a human can retreat into the deeply meaningful world of nature. When I worked long hours each day in Washington, my weekend retreat was the shores of the Chesapeake Bay. When my wife and I left Manhattan for the weekend, we headed for the mountain streams of the Catskills.

Somewhere along the way I began to realize that only immersion in the natural world, an intense appreciation of God’s gifts, could center my life. And the more I got caught up in the aggression of the power cities, the more important those retreats became. My immersion in work had to be experienced in a more sublime framework.

Last week I kayaked the East Branch of the Delaware River, a beautiful swift stream. I rented the kayak and enjoyed the opportunity to visit with Al Carpenter, who owns the rental business in Downsville, New York. I asked Al about business and he lamented that as his older customers move on they are not, in sufficient numbers, being replaced by younger ones. I am afraid that concrete, a variety of electronic distractions, and fear get in the way.

As a boy I could ride my bike to where I first fished — the last half mile was on a dirt road. When I left home there were no video games left behind. Also, my parents were not flooded with warnings about the dangers I would face, or if they were, it was not apparent to me. Today natural settings are often freighted with warnings about poisonous this and that. Better, it seems many parents feel, to shuttle the kids to soccer camp where encountering poison ivy or ticks or whatever seems unlikely. Trophies of metal have replaced the satisfactions and insights of field and stream.

Nature’s lessons are often profound; sporting technique not so much. I wish for a countervailing trend, one in which parents and children get to know nature’s neighborhood. And, by the way, that knowledge will include learning how to avoid bites, unanticipated thunder storms, falls and, of course, what to do if they occur.

Al Sikes is the former Chair of the Federal Communications Commission under George H.W. Bush. Al recently published Culture Leads Leaders Follow published by Koehler Books. 

Low Tide by Jamie Kirkpatrick


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A rising tide may well float all the boats in the harbor, but a falling tide reveals some important truths, too. And when that falling tide ultimately reaches its nadir, then, as in the looking glass, we may see ourselves as we truly are; we may in fact see ourselves face-to-face.

Take the current Presidential race. (I can hear the Borscht Belt comedians already: “Please take it!”) No matter you’re political persuasion, you have to admit: it’s as low tide as it gets. All the ego, bombast, name-calling, schoolyard bullying, vulgarity, and witch hunting: the muck along the shoreline of what was once reasonable political discourse just stinks! But it’s not just the stench of the current race that bothers me. The real problem with low tide is that it reveals our true nature and makes us vulnerable to its truths. What we thought was hidden in ourselves suddenly becomes visible. What once protected us now exposes us. At a higher tide, we might have sailed confidently into the future, but instead, we seem to have succumbed to the darker forces at work in the universe. Wait. What was that noise? I think I just heard us hit bottom.

It really doesn’t matter if you’re backing a donkey, elephant, or some other third party animal in the race. This just isn’t pretty. That cartoon cover of The New Yorker a few months back hit the nail squarely on its head. Not that JFK, FDR, Honest Abe, or even old George himself were saints, but they each had their fair share of memorable high tide moments: “Four score and seven;” “Ask not what your country can do for you;” “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Compare those ringing statements to the sound bites from this year’s candidates: the invective, the ad hominem arguments, the calls to violence (sarcastic or otherwise), the lies and half-truths, the outright misogyny would be the stuff of an Emmy-worthy episode of “All in the Family” were it not so tragic.

We may think we deserve better, but the record lowness of this tide suggests otherwise. This is exactly who and what we are when the waters recede and we’re left to stare at the rusty shopping carts, broken bottles, and old tires left behind. Maybe we thought there was plenty of water under our collective political keel, but guess what, folks: there wasn’t. Without really trying, we’ve managed to build an electoral process based on money, shallow thought, sound bites, and negativity—each and every one a jagged rock just below the tide line of our better nature.

Usually, low tide is just a passing phase and high tide will be back in a few hours. But something seems fundamentally out of balance this year. Instead of the regular breathing of the lunar cycle, we seem to have become stuck in the ooze of an ebb tide that stretches on and on into November and maybe beyond.

I really don’t like being stuck in the mud. I sure wish someone would come along and float my boat.

Jamie Kirkpatrick is a writer and photographer with homes in Chestertown and Bethesda. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Baltimore Sun, and the Philadelphia Inquirer. “A Place to Stand,” a book of his photographs, was published by the Chester River Press in 2015. He is currently working on a collection of stories called “Musing Right Along.”

Mid-Shore Health Future: Maryland Rural Health Workgroup Director Ben Steffen


In many ways, Ben Steffen seems like the perfect person to head up a work study group on the future of Maryland’s rural hospitals. While he certainly has the professional experience to carry out those duties, including his current role in running the Maryland Health Care Commission, his most unique qualification is the fact that he grew up in the isolated farmland of Northeastern Iowa. It was in that kind of health care environment that Ben experienced first hand the special requirements of rural health care and the complexity of deliveries those services.

Now he is faced with the extremely challenging task of managing a state task force to decide what Maryland needs to do for the rural hospitals in towns like Chestertown and Cambridge to meet those special needs. Over the course of only one year, he will need to share with his 36 member committee the extraordinary data collected on these health care centers as well as guide them through a decision-making process to develop long-term recommendations for the Mid-Shore.

In his Spy interview, Ben talks about the Maryland Health Care Commission’s interest in rural hospital issues, the process of the workgroup, and his thoughts about rural hospital solutions, including “critical care” models and transportation challenges.

The first meeting of the workgroup will be held at Chesapeake College August 30th from 1pm to 5pm.

This video is approximately fifteen minutes in length 


A Show of Hands for St. Michaels by George Merrill


I live just a mile or so outside of center St. Michaels. In summer months, driving through St. Michaels I see tourists everywhere. They appear like ants at a picnic.

They cover the sidewalks. Families spill over onto the streets like flowing lava, intimidating drivers and grinding traffic to a halt. They ignore the pedestrian crosswalks and dart out from between parked cars putting themselves in jeopardy and giving drivers a heart attack. Parking becomes a nightmare and judging by the vehicles filling all the parking areas, it seems as if our out of town guests cannot get by without driving SUV’s as large as dump trucks. I have regarded tourists as a subspecies of the vulture. They descended in droves landing where the sale items outside shops stand ripe for the picking. Tourists overrun the landscape, forage for a day or so and then return to their nests far away, leaving behind them the effluence of their presence; water bottles, paper cups and plates, plastic bags, promotional flyers and newspapers floating in the wind. On Mondays, the parking spots at the Acme, occupied only the day before by herds of SUV’s, were now liberated and available again to residents.

Since I’m a resident of St. Michaels, I groused to my wife, Jo,, one day about our weekly invasion of aliens. She remarked, “It’s sweet to see people holding hands.”

I’d never noticed. Wherever I looked, I now saw people holding hands. My eyes were opened, and I began viewing our little town differently. I’d assumed that only young lovers held hands in public. Not so here. Couples well up in years, their silvery heads glistening in the midday sun, like mad dogs and Englishmen, shopping bags in tow, were walking hand in hand. They enjoyed being in St. Michaels and being with each other. I saw spouses, children, and parents, and a gay couple all holding hands. I discovered the magic St. Michaels manifest in its happy visitors.

Regarding tourists, I’m now a kinder and gentler man. On weekends, now, I look for these tender expressions of affection and on a quick drive through downtown one day I counted no less than fifteen couples handholding.

If St. Michaels can encourage such affectionate demonstrations in today’s harsh world, I say “so what” if I must park a half a mile from the Acme to get milk or wait a few minutes for a family to cross the street in undesignated areas.

Sad to say, touching each other has earned a sinister connotation these days. We need touch to survive just as we need touch to nurture mutual affection. Monkeys know this and after a fight hold hands as a sign of reconciliation. Holding hands immediately comforts children and in hospitals, as soon as the nurse touches her patient, blood pressure drops, and the patient feels safe.

Science has been studying the act of handholding. Tiffany Field, director of the Touch Research Institute at the University of Miami, observes, ” Based on what we’ve seen, when we get more physical intimacy, we get better relationships.” Stephanie Rosenbloom, writing for the New York Times has investigated hand holding among college students and says: “ . . . There seemed to be two universal truths: that hand holding is the least nauseating public display of affection and has become more significant than other seemingly deeper expressions of love and romance.” One student allowed, “It’s a lot more intimate to hold hands nowadays than to kiss.”

Holding hands requires certain skills. In the case of my wife and me it means, literally, managing the long and short of it. Jo has longer legs than I have and stands a hair taller. I have a long torso but short legs. As they hang at our sides, our hands do not meet naturally. To further complicate the matter, she prefers holding hands with her knuckles facing forward. So do I. To make the handholding a mutually satisfying experience requires a trade-off. I will take Jo’s hand the way I prefer, and shortly after defer to her preferences. It helps to regulate our differences by conscious choices. Long legs make for greater strides, and it may take me a couple of steps to catch up with her. I try to regulate the speed with which we cover distance by tugging on her hand as if it were a bridle. Most times it works, and we walk in synch.
Regulating differences is one of human kind’s greatest challenges. Our survival depends on it.

In this troubled world, St. Michaels deserves a show of hands for inspiring expressions of affection in its visitors. And yes, for also inspiring kindness in one of its grouchier but now more enlightened resid

Spy Excursions: Baja California Sur


In May 2016, after the San Diego celebration of daughter Katy’s marriage to Ali, Jane and I headed south. We flew Alaska Air from San Diego to Los Cabos at the southern tip of the Baja California peninsula. May is not quite the high season in Baja California Sur. While Cabo San Lucas seemed about as crowded as it could be and San Jose del Cabo was also pretty busy, we got discounted hotel rates in Todos Santos and La Paz. Their high season is months earlier, when whales are giving birth in the warm waters.
La Paz is not nearly as big a tourist destination as Cabo San Lucas or even San Jose del Cabo. At restaurants in the city, many or most of the other guests are likely to be Mexican, and you’ll see few gringos at the beaches north of town. Souvenir shops are few and far between, even along the waterfront. For some people, La Paz may offer what seems like a more “authentic” Mexican experience, while Los Cabos has an international ambiance. There is no subtlety in Cabo San Lucas: the focus is on booze, sun and separating visitors from their money. Parts of Cabo San Lucas, with its Luxury Avenue mall and stores like Cartier, could be mistaken for Miami. San Jose del Cabo is more charming, but almost all the people shopping, eating and drinking are from El Norte.

The rooftop pool and bar area at Hotel Guaycura in Todos Santos. The house margarita (a classic lime margarita) can be recommended.

We picked up a rental car (be prepared to pay for mandatory insurance in Mexico even though the rental company may not tell you about it in advance, as well as to have as much as a 2,000-U.S.-dollar hold placed on your credit card) and drove the hour or hour and a half to Todos Santos, where we stayed one night at Hotel Guaycura (click HERE for its website) in the central historic district. Guaycura also has a restaurant and beach club a few miles away on the Pacific Ocean.  We had our first dinner in Mexico at La Casita (click HERE), a few blocks from our hotel. We can heartily recommend the ribs if not the cactus quesadillas. On the way back to the hotel we stopped for a drink at the Hotel California, which is much more touristy than the Guaycura.

Early morning on a Monday found the streets of Todos Santos very quiet.

Todos Santos is a picturesque small town that seems totally dependent on tourism. Lots of shops and places to eat and drink. The Pacific beaches a short drive away are said to be nice if not terribly safe for swimming, but we didn’t get over to them. After one night in Todos Santos, we drove northeast to the Gulf of California (Sea of Cortez) side of the peninsula and the city of La Paz, the capital of Baja California Sur. La Paz, which has more than 200,000 residents, is on its own little peninsula, jutting north into the Gulf of California, giving the city a west-facing waterfront and nice sunsets despite being on the east side of Baja.

We stayed farther north on the Pichilingue peninsula at a sprawling resort called CostaBaja (click HERE). It’s a golf, sailing and fishing destination (we do none of those), but it’s also an excellent base for exploring the beaches even farther north as well as going back south into the city. We stayed there three nights, had two dinners in La Paz, and spent two days visiting the beaches at Balandra and Tecolote, the latter of which has a great view of Isla Espiritu Santo, a desert island known for its sea lions, other wildlife and many bays. Boat excursions to Espiritu Santo are popular, but we settled for a distant view.  In La Paz, we had one dinner at a lively tourist place on the waterfront called Tailhunter (click HERE), where anglers are invited to bring their catch in to be turned into dinner. The second-floor balcony has a great view of strollers on the Malecon (seaside promenade) and sunset views of La Paz Bay.  A second dinner was a few blocks from the waterfront at Las Tres Virgenes (The Three Virgins; click HERE), a fine-dining establishment that serves probably the best food in town and offers a lot of Mexican wines, many from the celebrated Guadalupe Valley.  Our third and last La Paz dinner was at a sushi restaurant at CostaBaja.

The hotel building at CostaBaja. The resort, just north of La Paz on the Pichilingue peninsula, includes an 18-hole golf course, a shopping area with several restaurants, a beach club, a marina, condos and private homes. In May 2016 our large room with  a balcony was only 95 U.S. dollars a night, and the  hotel seemed almost empty. It’s a short drive from here to nearly deserted public beaches.


Balandra Beach has no food concessions, just beach umbrella and kayak rentals. Tecolote Beach, above, has a handful of restaurants. We had lunch twice in the largest one, whose high thatched roof is visible here. Like Balandra, the beach was nearly deserted midday on weekdays in May. At Balandra, the water is amazingly shallow (like six to 12 inches) for maybe a hundred yards out into a cove. At Tecolote, the water gets deeper much closer to shore, and there is a view of Espiritu Santo island. Balandra, where no food is sold, has a much cleaner beach; Tecolote has more litter, though the water itself seems just as clean.


Walking in the warm and shallow water at Balandra where we rented kayaks for an hour of paddling around the cove. One attraction here is a large rock
that the sea has eroded so much that it now resembles a mushroom. We saw it from our kayaks, but it can also be  reached by walking around a rocky headland.
That’s the Luxury Avenue mall on the left, overlooking the marina at Cabo San Lucas. The marina is surrounded by a promenade lined with bars, restaurants and tour
companies, all of which seem to have people accosting passers-by with sales pitches. There’s probably as much English spoken here as Spanish.

We had driven mostly on Mexico 19 from the airport at San Jose del Cabo, to Todos Santos, and then all the way to La Paz. That route took us west and along the Pacific before crossing the peninsula. Our next destination was San Jose del Cabo and we mostly took Mexico 1 along the eastern side of the peninsula. GPS  and most guidebooks will tell you to take Mexico 19 again; the reason is that Mexico 1 is a serpentine mountain route with hairpin turns and low speed limits. Nonetheless, it was nice to see new scenery.  All of Baja Sur, by the way, is pretty much desert. Loads of cacti, dry gulches and dead-looking weeds.

Rooms at Casa Natalia in San Jose del Cabo overlook a courtyard. Farther down the courtyard is a small but pleasant swimming
pool. Between the street and the courtyard are the hotel lobby and its bar and restaurant. Tip for getting a room here: ask
for a room above ground level for a good bit more privacy.

In San Jose del Cabo, the last two nights of this trip were spent at Casa Natalia (click HERE), a charming inn on the town square. The location could hardly be better, though it required finding street parking for our rental car.  On our one full day in Los Cabos, we drove over to Cabo San Lucas (via the “corridor” of resorts that connect the two towns) hoping to rent kayaks to paddle out to The Arch, a rock formation at Land’s End, but the kayak rental person said the harbormaster wasn’t letting kayaks go there because of high winds. If you want to browse souvenir shops for items you might also find at Pier One or Amazon, or if you want to drink yourself into an early-afternoon stupor, San Lucas is the place for you. We headed back to quieter San Jose.

Both of our two dinners in San Jose are worth mentioning. One was at La Pesca (click HERE for TripAdvisor listing), a fish restaurant a short walk south of the square on Boulevard Antonio Mijares, the same street as our hotel. We shared a tuna tartar appetizer (sauced tuna chunks and pineapple; absolutely excellent) and a red snapper that was roasted in savory sauces. Again, wonderful. Our other dinner in San Jose was at La Lupita Taco and Mezcal (click HERE), where a long list of interesting tacos are offered individually. Not surprisingly, there’s also a good list of mezcal-based cocktails along with a longer list of mezcal brands.  The evening we were there, a band was setting up in the open-air garden, though when we left around 9 the live music still hadn’t started.  Still, a lively and pleasant place and, as at La Pesca, very good food.

There’s more to Baja Sur than the ostentation and alcohol of Cabo San Lucas, the cafe life in San Jose del Cabo, the charming streets of Todos Santos and the beaches around La Paz.  It’s the climate. It was hot and dry while we were there, and it was cold and rainy at our home in Maryland. For my money, that’s the best reason to visit.

    Steve Bailey of Tilghman formerly worked in various editing positions at The New York Times, The International Herald Tribune, The Baltimore Sun, The Chicago Sun Times and other newspapers. He and his wife, Jane, travel widely and he writes about their travels at

Create: A New Model for the Business of Art on Cross Street


Chestertown exists in the eye of the beholder. A history enthusiast can touch the spine of America’s colonial legacy. A naturist, enthralled with our river life has been known to return and pack up for a move to join us. Someone with a taste for art will always be surprised at the level of fine arts available, from our International Music Festival and Garfield Theatre shows to the Artists’ Gallery, SANDBOX Studio and River Arts  and the many festivals the town has to offer.

Chestertown’s reputation as an arts community was enhanced recently with the opening of Create, a gallery for fine arts and crafts. But it’s not just for the caliber of the art that’s noteworthy—it’s how they are operating their space. It’s a unified effort undertaken by each artist, and they are on-premises daily to offer visitors a glimpse into the artistic process and even discuss custom designs with clients.

Carla Massoni, owner of Carla Massoni Gallery, and long-time advocate for a strong arts presence in Chestertown recognized an opportunity to change how art was presented to the public. Already, there were internationally known artists working in the community, each with their own studios and who have banded together in the past to advertise and attend prestigious art show like last year’s American Craft Council in Baltimore.

Why not showcase them together and have the gallery run by the artists themselves and let them talk one-on-one to visitors about the process of art?

While core partners are Rob Glebe, Patti and Dave Hegland, Bob Ortiz, Marilee Schumann and Faith Wilson display and work the shop, other highly respected “guest artists” have also been invited to show their work in the gallery. The aesthetic bar is high, but Create would quickly show well in Georgetown and Manhattan.

Here, Carla Massoni talks about Create’s inception and how the project came together.

This video is approximately five minutes in length. Find out more about Create here
 113 South Cross Street


Making It on the Shore: Alex Haschen and IAMBOOST


There may be a website out there that is dedicated exclusively to kids from age ten to fifteen on their physical health, but Alex Haschen hasn’t found one yet. And as a result, and many years of other research, the Easton-based personal trainer turned on last month as a web extension of his local work with young people.

In his Spy interview, Alex talks about his business model and the potential market of working with parents and children on fitness through video and quiz programming. Another example of making it on the Shore.

This video is approximately four minutes in length