As promised / threatened on Friday, I’ll be squawking a bit less while the missus and I are enjoying a long anniversary weekend in Maine. I’ve never been this far north, and haven’t been in the state for a few years. I realize we’re not seeing all that Maine has to offer — or really, very much of it, since the goal is to have as lazy and relaxing a weekend as possible. That said, I’ve drawn a few conclusions. In other words:
“I think I saw a chipmunk. But it might have been a leaf. Or a rock. I didn’t have my binoculars in hand to verify. Also, I was a little drunk.”
Things That I Feel I Can Safely Extrapolate About the State of Maine, Based on One Night in Our Hotel Room:
1. Based on the view (pointed toward some pretty but unpronounceable bay), Maine — like humans, light beer and most of the rest of the Earth — is roughly ninety percent water. The rest is a thicket of trees and dark wooded islands stretching off to the horizon.
2. So if I’m not drowned or eaten by a coldwater shark, the bears and moose are going to get me. Or Dr. Moreau.
3. No actual bears, moose, sharks or mad scientists have been witnessed from the room — yet. I think I saw a chipmunk. But it might have been a leaf. Or a rock. I didn’t have my binoculars in hand to verify. Also, I was a little drunk.
4. Based on the toilet seat, people in Maine have backsides about twenty percent smaller than the typical American ass. The chairs appear to be normal-sized; maybe they sit in them two and three at a time, for fun. Or to huddle for safety, when the sharks are prowling.
5. Privacy is also not a concern in Maine. They have window blinds, but you can’t pull them down. Rather, you can pull them down, and then they smugly roll up to the top again as though you’ve offended their honor in yanking them toward the floor. Which is a natural reaction, I suppose. I just didn’t expect it from a window treatment.
6. I can only assume that these “Maine blinds” lead to all sorts of wacky adventures, neighborly drama, and the development of the friendly, close-knit society that I understand is present throughout the state of Maine. There are no secrets here, and they seem to accept that.
7. I’m now going to spend the rest of the week trying to avoid showing my junk to the chipmunk when I get out of the shower.
8. And not getting eaten, drowned, or experimented on. And practicing a new sport I’ve invented called ‘precision pooping’. Yay, Maine.Permalink | No Comments