Bristol Mills

Has the Round Pond Independence Day Parade Gone Poli-tick-ly Correct?

2007-07-04T15:41:00.000-04:00

Every year I fight the traffic to go to the Independence Day Parade in the village of Round Pond, Bristol. It has always been known as the politically incorrect, quirky, outrageous, full of fun parade, and to me it epitomizes the freedoms of our country. No president, politician, or anything making the news has ever been safe from some local group taking it on and satirizing it. With all that's going on in the country and world at this time, I was expecting to see some real jabs. Imagine my disappointment when that didn't happen.

I did have to laugh at the poli-ticks group, though. It was good, but not really poking fun at anything, it was just a general statement about politics sucking you dry. Most of the parade was pretty much old cars, which while nice to see, weren't really decorated or anything. Come on people! What happened? Has Bush's restrictions on our personal freedom gotten to you? An example of what freedom of speech really is has been muzzled? And where was the Bristol Fire Department? Last year there was some controversy generated by the town as to whether or not they could participate and help out. This year, nothing in the papers, or even whispered about their participation. Usually they assist with parking, put up yellow tape for no parking, and ride in the parade itself. Not a single sign of them this year.

Well, I will admit, there were two other parade entries that were pretty good, just nowhere near as good as in previous years. I wish I had gotten a rear shot of this photo, showing the guy in the Dick Cheney mask, referring to himself (on the sign) as a "dick." The darn dog chose that moment to pull my arm away to "show her muscle" at another dog and the shot was ruined.

Also, another did have a Bush carrying a fish, in reference to the recently completed "Lobster Summit," where Bush XLI and Bush XLIII treated Vladimir Putin to some local fishing on Daddy's boat, Fidelity. I'm surprised no one added the story about the anchor coming loose from the boat, with George LXIII casting his line as the divers were trying to unsnag it.

And then there was the group pushing for world peace. I mean peas. A little take off on the "Visualize Whirled Peas" bumper stickers that are so ubiquitous on cars. Usually Volvos. They were carrying giant pea pods, and cheering. Kind of cute, but no "punch" to it.

And the one with the people dressed as lobsters sitting inside a lobster trap, calling their float the "Tourist Trap." But where are the jabs at the state of our world today? I was really really disappointed in the parade this year. Next year, I just may stay home instead.

Happy Independence Day, America. May we have 213 more years of freedom.

Newcomers to become the majority in midcoast region

2007-06-11T14:04:00.000-04:00

Saw this on the Boston.Com site.

Huh, why doesn't this surprise me. Although I'm a newcomer and transplant, I certainly relate more with native Mainahs than this group, the over educated, over wealthy, the "quality of life" people.

These are the ones giving transplants a bad name.

They are the ones who move from the city and look down on the locals. The ones who buy homes next to a railroad track and then complain that the trains "spew out diesel fumes hurting the quality of air," while at the same time driving their own diesel volvos or whatnot.

They are the ones that buy property adjacent to conservation easements, and then take chainsaw in hand and cut down every tree that is blocking their "quality of view" from their home, violating the shoreland zoning rules, trespassing, and then say, "Oh, it was only a couple of small saplings."

They are the ones who successfully mount a campaign against Wal-Mart, because it "will impact their quality of life." Well, what about the working person's quality of life??? I have to shop at Cant-afford (Hannaford) with their high prices (it's all organic, you see) because I don't have a nearby Wal-Mart supercenter. And Reny's, who sells more Chinese imported junk than Wal-Mart (but used that in the campaign).

They are the ones responsible for buying up the oceanfront land and blocking access to traditional use, leaving Maine with only 20 miles (half of which is privately owned) of its 3,000 mile coastline for access to traditional use, as it "will interfere with their quality of life."

Okay, rant ended for today.

Osprey Causes Power Outage

2007-06-02T14:28:00.000-04:00

I had to laugh when I read that headline in last week's Lincoln County News. Actually, I laughed more at this photo of the osprey that ran with the story. Sure does look like he was "electrified," doesn't he? A friend of mine back in Michigan, who used to lose her power very often, claimed a "dog must have peed on a telephone pole again" whenever it happened.

But I wasn't laughing when I woke up on the Saturday in question and we (and 8100 others) didn't have any power. What made it even worse, when I called in to CMP to find out what was going on, the recording said that there was an outage affecting Bristol, Bremen, South Bristol and Damariscotta, and the crews were out patrolling the roads looking for the problem.
Huh? Say what?? Isn't this the 21st century? Isn't it computerized, so if there is a break in the grid, wouldn't it be easy to spot? Apparently not.

The utility companies in this area are somewhat behind the times. I swear the local phone company, Tidewater Telecom (which we refer to as Bilgewater) was probably the last phone system on earth to provide caller id with name. They had it with number, but name didn't come in until just a couple years ago. And even though McDonald's Restaurants will take a debit card, Bilge, I mean Tidewater won't. And you have no option to pay online, of course. And yet they offer DSL??? Of course, theirs was the worst deal around. You have to purchase their proprietary modem (for $200) and then pay $50 a month for the "blazing" speeds of 256 kbps. And pay surcharges if you exceeded their bandwidth limits of 128 kbps.

It's actually not all that surprising. Tidewater used to be GTE. And I had GTE in Caseville, and you couldn't call anywhere but Caseville and Elkton with them. And who was there to call in Elkton?? It wasn't even contiguous with Caseville. And when we installed a phone in the cottage in 1985, we got a party line. There was no way you could have a private line, you were put on a waiting list. After five years, we finally did get a private line, but a recurring nightmare of mine was that I needed emergency service,a dn couldn't get through because someone was on the line.

One good thing here in Maine, the Public Utility Commission forced the phone companies to expand the calling area to be local calls rather than long distance, to all neighboring exchanges. When I first moved out here, all you could call with the 563 exchange was another 563 exchange, South Bristol and New Harbor. Now we can call Waldoboro, Wiscasset and Whitefield, also. Michigan could learn a few things from this PUC; in Holly, our local exchange would only call Holly and Fenton.

A Celebration of Alewives

2007-05-16T19:58:00.000-04:00

I just read in this week's Lincoln County News that there will be a "Celebration of Alewives" in Damariscotta Mills this upcoming Saturday, May 19. The fish ladder near the dam on the Damariscotta Lake will be inundated with transplants and visitors from away to watch thousands of the little silvery fish try to climb the ladder for the purpose of spawning. While watching them is certainly an interesting sight, I cannot help but think of what alewives really are to me: Garbage Fish.

Let me explain...

Although alewives are native to the ocean, they do spawn in fresh water, and as such can live without the salinity of the ocean with no problems. This has allowed them to invade the Great Lakes through the St. Lawrence Seaway to colonize in the fresh waters of Lakes Huron, Erie, Ontario and Michigan. I don't believe they've made it into Lake Superior, though. They were one of the first of many invasive species that have contributed to the ecosystem changing, and not for the good. Now, back in the 1960s and early 1970s, there were massive die-offs of these little silver invaders, and the beaches would be covered with dead, rotten, stinking fish. The beautiful white sands of the Michigan shoreline were literally covered with them. You couldn't walk down the beach due to the smell, and forget lying on the sand and enjoying the hot summer days. The only ones that enjoyed them were the dogs, since dogs absolutely LOVE to roll in the smelliest, stinkiest objects they can find. In fact, I think my current Lab isn't happy unless she's doused with Eau de Skunk.

To actually sit on the beach, you had to take a rake and shovels and spend a good part of your time raking up the area and burying them, all the while swatting at the flies that were mad at you for taking away their breeding grounds. I will admit, you were ready to dive into the water as soon as you were finished with all that work. So, while alewives may have been important to the local economy in the past, to me they are nothing but trash. Smoke them and eat them? No way!

I will admit though, that they are actually an invasive species that had some benefit in the Great Lakes. They became forage fish for trout and walleye, who previously fed on yellow perch. With the abundance of alewives, the perch were relieved of the pressures from bigger fish, and exploded, so much so that a couple hours of fishing would produce stringers of a couple hundred perch, all of them of a delicious eating size of twelve inches. Those days are gone, though, as the perch fishing pressure along with the other invasive introdutions (zebra mussels in particular) have changed the Great Lakes forever.

Another Reason I Don't Miss Michigan

2007-05-10T13:33:00.001-04:00

I have to say, sometimes the news stories around here in the papers are so boring. Some days the biggest news statewide is about birdwatchers. So I read that, and think, "And this is news??" Then I'll read the online newspapers from Michigan, and read of stabbings, drive by shootings, murders, and the corrupt cops in Detroit, and think to myself, "Gawd I'm glad I live here."

So with that, I present to you a video of "Cops: Camden/Rockport Style." Enjoy.

Black Flies Soon

2007-05-04T10:28:00.001-04:00

That's another of the signs at Spear's Greenhouse in Warren. Gotta love it, succinct, yet gets that point across. It lets you know that early summer isn't all it's cracked up to be. Anyway, got a story here...

A farmer got pulled over by a state trooper for speeding, and the trooper started to lecture the farmer about his speed, and in general began to throw his weight around to try to make the farmer uncomfortable. Finally, the trooper got around to writing out the ticket, and as he was doing that he kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing around his head. The farmer said, "Having some problems with circle flies there, are ya?" The trooper stopped writing the ticket and said, "Well yeah, if that's what they are, I never heard of circle flies." So the farmer says, "Well, circle flies are common on farms. See, they're called circle flies because they're almost always found circling around the back end of a horse." The trooper says, "Oh," and goes back to writing the ticket. Then after a minute he stops and says, "Hey...wait a minute, are you trying to call me a horse's ass?" The farmer says, "Oh no, officer. I have too much respect for law enforcement and police officers to even think about calling you a horse's ass." The trooper says, "Well, that's a good thing," and goes back to writing the ticket. After a long pause, the farmer says, "Hard to fool them flies though."

We had black flies in Michigan, but we called them biting flies. And not so much in southeast/central Michigan where I lived, but further north. They never bothered me too much, nor do they here. But both my husbands seemed to attract them. Wonder if it was pheromones? What used to get me were deer flies. We have them here, too, but they're not as big. I swear they were four times as big in Michigan than here. And they lived on the beach. You'd go in the water, they'd follow you. Take the boat out, and they'd follow you. They were some dedicated biters, let me tell you. We spent a day on Charity Island once, and the four of us went through three cans of Deep Woods Off and they still ate us alive.

What did get me here were some ground bees. We were taking care of the lawn, me on my riding mower and the hubby with the weed whacker, and one of us disturbed the nest. I felt some stinging, so did he, and the next thing we knew we were being attacked. We beat feet for the house, bees in pursuit, me trying to brush off mine and the dog's bees, since she was out with us. Inside, we started killing the hangers-on, and eventually got them all. I was covered in bites; good thing I'm not allergic. Talk about painful.

The funny thing is I went to work on Monday, and told my buddy what happened. His jaw dropped open and said the exact same thing happened to him and his dog. But he had a better way of dealing with it. After they settled down, he went out, placed his lawn mower over the nest, started it up and sprayed bug killer down the hole and stood back and watched while they came out and got "whacked."

He didn't get mad, he got even.

Tourists Coming

2007-05-03T13:19:00.000-04:00

That's the content of a sign that used to be posted at Spear's Farm in Warren every Spring. I used to get a chuckle out of it every time I passed by. I have to say, it's so Maine. Terse, yet gets the point across. The Town of Bristol has put up its huge sign at the junction of Rtes. 129 and 130 that directs the traffic to Pemaquid Point Lighthouse Park. It means increased traffic, inflated prices, rude people who think the local residents are dumb and insignificant. Yet the economy of Maine is driven by these "summah complaints."

A few years ago I was complaining about all the traffic on the road, and how hard it was to get out of the driveway. My youngest son came up with a great comment. He said, "Mom, I know how to get rid of all the traffic. Just put up a sign saying "Free Lobster" with an arrow pointing down Rte.129." Well, I haven't done it yet, but maybe this year I will. I can see it now, screeching brakes, a quick turn around, and they're off to South Bristol. Oh, maybe I'd better not. My driveway is already used as a turnaround for people that miss the turnoff, so I'd better think twice about this, or my driveway will be clogged completely!

Although today feels more like an early April day, my forsythia is blooming. I worry about it now, because for the past two years, it's bloomed in May AND in November. I have never in my more than half century on this planet seen this happen. And now two years in a row this has occurred! Is this global warming? I was always under the impression that paradoxically this area would get colder under global warming, but who knows. The photo to the left was taken in November of 2005. And I wasn't the only one I knew that had strange things happening with the plants and flowers. Roses kept blooming well into December. Other plants were budding. It kinds of makes you wonder, doesn't it. Whether you believe people are responsible for the weather patterns changing or not, something is going on. The past couple of years there has been a dearth of snow around here, which caused me to lose my job (snowplow manufacturing) due to lack of work. Spring has virtually disappeared, or comes so late it's gone in a blink of an eye. But at least the peepers and the wood frogs haven't suffered. I love the night chorus. And the redwing blackbirds appeared on time, although they got slammed with the Easter snowstorm and then the Patriot's Day northeaster.

Well, off to plan the yard sale route for Saturday. As I said, hope springs eternal that this is Spring, even if it's cold.

You Can't Get There From Here...

2007-04-30T14:28:00.000-04:00

But just exactly where is there? Learning to pronounce some of the names of the places you're trying to get to can be daunting, unless you've grown up around here (or there). Being "from away," some of the new place names are hard to say. Or, because there are certain towns in common between Maine and Michigan, their pronunciation may be different, even though the spelling is the same. Case in point: Presque Isle. Around these parts, it's pronounced Presk Isle. Back in Michigan, it's Presk-EE Isle. Dead giveaway as to where you're from, the Great Lakes area or New England.

Some other place names I've noticed people having a hard time getting their words around is strangely, Wiscasset. It seems easy to me to pronounce, but I've heard it called Wiss-Cassette, Wise-casset, and more. That town actually never gave me a problem. Now, ask me to say Piscataquis, and I'll have trouble. Maybe not so much anymore, as I'll say it every now and then, just to have it roll around on the tongue. Lots of places and names are like that. Passamaquoddy, although not a place, certainly qualifies, as do Passadumkeag (Pass Ah Dum Keg), Mattawamkeag (Mad Uh Wum Keg), Carrabassett (Care Ah Bass Ette) Valley and Damariscotta (Dam A Riss Cot Ah). Of course, anyone that's grown up with place names like Tittabawasee, Quanicassee, Ontonagon and Shiawassee shouldn't have too much trouble with those names. Those were my favorite "tongue rollers" in Michigan.

Where Are All the Garage Sales?

2007-04-29T11:08:00.000-04:00

Moving to Maine, I had to leave an awful lot of furniture and the accumulation of 25 years of married life behind. Not to mention I had two households (a regular home and cottage). Not a problem, right? There are always yard sales. I was known as the person who went to an auction and got two couches for one dollar back in Michigan, so I should have no problem out here, right? Well, not exactly. The "yard sales" around here consist of one or two tables put out for three hours on a Saturday morning, with a few bottles, maybe a couple small appliances and a scarf or two. I don't know how many I've gone to, but I've checked out many, and very few are worth my time.

In Michigan, garage sales started Thursday morning and ran for three days, all day. I was doing ambulance duty on Thursday mornings, and we'd take the truck around to check them out when it was quiet, which it usually was. In fact, the garage sales had to have a permit, and since the then police chief in out town was responsible for checking them for compliance, we'd follow him around, since he knew where they all were. Actually, he was buying at them also.

One good thing about the yard sales though...it's allowed me to get a handle on streets and roads. We don't need no stinkin' map...all we need is a list of yard sales! One time in Michigan, our EMS training officer was studying the map on the wall. I asked him what he was doing. He said, "learning where the new roads are." I just sighed and said, "Roger, all you have to do is go looking for yard sales. You'll learn all the new roads in a hurry!" So on my quest for "home decor" and furniture, I certainly learned the roads around here.

I can't say they're all bad. I did hook into a couple of good ones. In fact, I found two twin beds, a dresser and two nightstands for $50. It might sound like a lot, but these were made by Moosehead, and neither of my boys had beds at the time (just cots). Another good one got me a radar detector for only $1 dollar. Plus a whole bunch of other good stuff at the same one, including two barstools my hubby was looking for for his model railroad group. I've found some good Halloween stuff, especially one that had several great latex masks. I'm into Halloween, put out a big display on the roadside, and am always looking for cheap free stuff to turn into props.

That reminds me of one other thing I miss...Spring Cleanup Days. For a two week period, anything could go to the curb and it was guaranteed to be picked up. And not necessarily by the Department of Public Works guys. People could drive around and get a lot of great stuff. I know a lot of people got our stuff before the regular pickup, and we got a lot of stuff in replacement. Recycling at its best. We call it "shopping at Curby's." I know a few towns around here used to have something like that, Rockland for one, but most have been cancelled. Heck, you can't even go dump picking. And that's a shame, because I want your used wood, your PVC pipe, your Stuff, so I can make my props cheaply! Be sure to check out my place in October. Or take a look at it on the web, Roadside Haunt.

Well, one good thing I have to look forward to is Miles Annual Rummage Sale. It's huge. I told my work buddy about it (he's the biggest yard sale afficianado I know...he even had to rent a storage space for all his buys) and even he was impressed, although he complained about it being too big (?!?!?). I can see his point, though. Seven tents and the outdoor area does make it hard to find stuff. But it's pretty well organized. What's good is it happens in August, which is about the time I'm seriously thinking about Halloween and at least have a list of what I need.

May is almost here, and yard sales should be starting up soon. Hope springs eternal, and maybe I'll come across one or two this year that are "the way garage sales should be."

More translations (and home building)

2007-04-25T16:57:00.000-04:00

The other day the cat was playing with something on the floor, and the hubby got it from her. When I asked what does she have, he replied an elastic. Once again I had to do a quick translation. "The waistband from my pants?" No, a rubber band. Another of those little quirks I've discovered in Maine talk. The first time I encountered that term was when I was working in the Regional EMS office in Union. The office manager would refer to elastics, even though the bag wass clearly marked rubber bands. Maybe elastics are a better word, though. I remember when I was a little girl, my mother had a rubber plant. She once glued a bunch of rubber bands on them in an attempt to convince us (her kids) that that was where rubber bands came from.

Ah, and building a home here in this lovely state brings more new words to process. One of the biggest being stick built. I'd never heard that phrase applied to any type of house before. I've heard of capes, saltbox, ranch, split level, but never stick built. Oh wait, that means constructed rather than manufactured. Phew, okay, we were going with manufactured anyway, since they're probably the best deal around. We were offered some land, a nice five acre parcel of property that was to be developed. Unfortunately, the owner never had time to get the road in, never bothered getting the permits in place, so here we were, sitting around with a manufactured home on order and no place to put it.

Well, there's more land around, right? Well, yeah, but some of them come with restrictions. We actually found a lovely piece of land, bordered with a small stream, put our deposit on it, and then just before closing, found we couldn't get title insurance. There were ancient covenants in place, and these were brought up in the title search. Talking with the original owner of the land, he stated when the covenants were written he never meant to exclude doublewides, especially since they're much better looking than some of the stick built ones in the subdivision, and he'd sign off on it if the majority of the landowners would go along with it. Too much hassle, though and we regretfully had to pull out of the deal.

So, now the home has been delivered and we have no land. Everything land-wise was unsuitable for some reason or another. Finally hooked up with one of the local developers and he had a good sized piece of property in Bristol. So we grabbed it, especially since he could develop it and promised to have us in by Thanksgiving (it was now September).

Now we learn about new names for wells. I know shallow and deep. Around here they're drilled and dug. Okay, we're getting a drilled (deep) one anyway. Things progress fairly smoothly, even though there were some glitches, mainly with pouring the foundation. We had a specially reinforced double wide mobile home, so it could go on a full foundation (aka basement).

A quick factoid: Did you know Mobile homes are so called not because they can be hooked up and moved (they can't, not easily), but because they were invented in Mobile, Alabama? It's a geographic desciption, not a reference to their mobility.

And that's another new word: daylight basement. I've always referred to them as walk-out basement. But then, I also refer to the area outside the front door as the front yard, to go with the back yard and the side yard. Around here it's your door yard.
Anyway, the land was ready, the septic and well were in, it's time to set the house on the foundation with the crane. One half went on no problem. As they were preparing to move the crane to the other half, the engine on the crane blew. Arrrghh. It took a week for them to get a new motor there, replace it and start it up again. We were the talk of the town for a while. But finally, in the end, all was good, we moved in Thanksgiving weekend, in fact we had Thanksgiving dinner at the house.

he biggest holdup ended up being Central Maine Power. Because of the distance of the house from the road, we would have had to pay an extra $5,000 dollars to set a pole. We came into this after the power companies were deregulated, and instead of them paying us to bring the lines in, it's the other way around. So, we went with underground lines, and got the phone company and our electrician there at the same time to run them through. Only thing is the cable company never responded to our calls, so they never got to go underground. No biggie, we haven't lost the cable, but we do lose the power. The Patriot's Day Nor'easter left us without power for four hours the first time, and 24 hours the second time. But we were lucky, many didn't get power back for a full five days.

Till next time..

Can Drivers Be too Polite?

2007-04-10T15:08:00.000-04:00

People around here consider the citizens of Massachusetts to be the worst drivers. Well, I beg to differ. Michigan has the worst. A recent news story out of my former state tells of one lady, who was apparently stressed out (according to her attorney) pulling out a gun and shooting at the tires of a tailgater. While that is so wrong, I can relate to her doing it. I know I used to have fantasies about things like that...maybe not pulling out a gun and shooting at them (supposedly she cut him off, but he pulled in front of her and slammed on the brakes), but definitely of wishing I had a monster truck and driving over the tops of the offending cars, thus crushing them.
Here in Maine, though, politeness rules. While there is occasionally an incident of road rage, they are few and far between. One I remember is that of a truck ramming another with his plow blade. Something like that would never be reported in Michigan. It's just not news. But the drivers here frustrate me nevertheless, as they are sometimes too polite.

Can you imagine driving down a very heavily traveled road, at 55 MPH, and suddenly having to slam on your brakes because the person in front of you has stopped, dead in the road, to let a vehicle out of a crossroad? You just don't do that! But it has happened to me. And no one else was coming, I was the only other car on the road and if the lady in question had continued on, the person waiting to pull out wuold have been able to do so as soon as I was past. Too much politeness can casue accidents.

Learning to drive, I was taught how to make a left turn out of a street. You wait until traffic is clear both ways, then pull out. Hopefully, if traffic is busy, someone will stop and let you out. I'll do it, but only if there is a line of traffic behind me, and the person attempting to pull out doesn't have a chance. But here, too many people will stop and let them out, even if there isn't another car in sight. Not right. And when someone does it for me, I'm at a loss, because I'm willing to wait my turn. I do pull out and give them the "thank you wave," which around here is de rigeur, but I still feel guilty.

Life is slower here, and even I have eased up on my lead foot. Michigan is the only place where you can pass a cop doing 85 MPH and he'll ignore you, because he's waiting for those doing 100 MPH. Of course, the speed limits on the expressways are 70 MPH. Which is another beef of mine...getting onto the turnpike. I was taught that the entrance ramp to an expressway (we have no turnpikes in Mich., all the roads are free), is an acceleration lane, you speed up and MERGE with the traffic. And that's what the signs say...MERGE. But here, the signs say YIELD as you enter the turnpike. But wait, on the other side of the ramp, it says MERGE. So what do you do? Gaaa...Slow down, speed up, Yield, Merge? Help!

I've read that some Michigan cities and towns are looking to put in roundabouts. Geez, please don't do that. The question has come up in Newcastle, and Damariscotta, too. Oh, please don't. Those were invented by someone who had way too much to drink, and got together with the highway planers and said, "Let's confuse the h*ll out of everybody." I've been here for eight years now, and still can't figure out the proper way to use them. Like, what lane do you get into? Why have two lanes if you're just using it to get from point A to point B? Is it because of the Maine saying, "You can't get there from here?" Well, that's exactly how I feel about it. At my former place of employ, we had a driving instructor who worked part time with us. I broached the subject to him, and he tried to explain it, but it still made no sense to me. He also told me that his kids loved driving on them. Well no wonder, it's like a race track.

Back to over polite drivers...Maine has a law that you must stop for pedestrians in the crosswalk. Okay, no problem. However, drivers tend to stop for them no matter where they are. My attitude is, if you're not in a crosswalk, you're fair game. And I have a point system in place on you pedestrians!

The Maine legislature at one point introduced an "Act to Protect Vehicles from Dangerous Pedestrians." It never passed, but it did have its merits. It's frightening when these people, often with little kids in tow, jump out at you from between parked cars without even looking (!) and expect you to stop for them, crosswalk or no. Doesn't anyone stop and look both ways before cautiously crossing the street anymore? At times it seems not. I am honestly surprised there aren't more collisions. But then again, if I drive faster than 10 MPH on Main Street, Damariscotta, I feel like I'm speeding.

Let me leave you today with the Rules For Driving in Detroit. And let me tell you, too, that I don't miss them one bit. I like the slower lifestyle here.

Rules For Driving in Metro Detroit

Start your engines!

A right lane construction closure is just a game to see how many people can cut in line by passing you on the right as you sit in left lane waiting for the same jerks to squeeze their way back in before hitting construction barrels.

Turn signals are just clues as to your next move in road battle so never use them.

Under no circumstances should you leave a safe distance between you and the car in front of you no matter how fast you're going. If you do, the space will be filled in by somebody else putting you in an even more dangerous situation.

Large SUV drivers think they're immortal (especially if they have 4WD); don't succumb to the temptation to test this theory.

The faster you drive through a red light, the smaller the chance you have of getting hit.

Never get in the way of a car that needs extensive body work (Remember no-fault insurance, he might not have much to lose, you do).

Braking is to be done as hard and late as possible to insure that your ABS kicks in giving a nice relaxing foot massage as the brake pedal pulsates.

Construction signs tell you about road closures immediately after you pass the exit before the traffic begins to back up.

The new electronic traffic warning system signs are not there to provide useful information, just to make Detroit look high-tech.

Never pass on the left when you can pass on the right. It's a good way to scare people entering the highway.

Speed limits are arbitrary figures, given only as suggestions and apparently not enforceable in the metro area during rush hour.

Just because you're in the left lane and have no room to speed up or move over doesn't mean that a Detroit driver flashing his high beams behind you doesn't think he can go faster in your spot.

Please remember that there is no such thing as a shortcut during rush-hour traffic in Detroit.

Always slow down and rubberneck when you see an accident or even a person changing a tire. It might be more interesting than the articles in last week's National Enquirer.

Throwing litter on the roads adds variety to the landscape, keeps the existing litter from getting lonely and gives the Adopt-a-highway crews something to clean up.

Everybody thinks their vehicle is better than yours, (especially pickup truck drivers with stickers of Calvin peeing on a Ford, Dodge or a Chevy logo).

Learn to swerve abruptly. Detroit is the home of high-speed slalom driving thanks to MDOT, which puts potholes in key locations to test drivers' reflexes and keep them on their toes.

It is traditional in Detroit to honk your horn at cars that don't move the instant the light changes. This is a drag race isn't it?

When the light turns green, put the pedal to the metal; gas is cheap in Michigan, pollution is a myth, and this is a drag race isn't it?

Seeking eye contact with another driver revokes your right of way.

Never take a green light at face value. Always look right and left before proceeding.

Remember that the goal of every Detroit driver is to get there first, by whatever means necessary.

Also remember that the number of idiot drivers on the road impeding your progress is inversely proportional to the amount of time you have to reach your destination.

And here's an additional driving pointer...

You know you're in Hamtramck when all the streets are one way and people are driving backwards down them because they are lost.

The Way Life Should Be?

2007-03-30T14:32:00.000-04:00

Why do so many Michiganders that move to Maine stay for only a little while and then move back? I've known a few that came out here before I did and moved back home within a year's time. I know I get homesick, and want to be back in my home state every now and then, but what I think I'm homesick for is my memories. Not the state. Although every spring I get an urge to want to be back where the temperatures are warmer than here. Or when I walk into our local grocery store and can't find decent prices on food. Or that all the produce comes from Peru. And we wonder why there are so many instances of food borne illness. Yeah, I miss Michigan fishing, food you can't get out here, summer in Michigan, and I especially miss the Great Lakes. But I know it's all different now. So I quell my urge to be back home and remember I like a lot of things about my adopted state.

So how does one successfully adapt to Maine? I hang out with many Mainers, who forget I'm "from away." I'll catch them asking me, "do you remember when such and such was there in Rockland?" At which point I remind them I'm not from around here. One former boss told me, when he discovered I was from away, that he'd thought I'd been living in Bristol all my life. I take it as a compliment, as Mainers have a very well developed "pride of birth," second (maybe) only to Texans. Speaking of Texans, I remember one time we were in Dave's Restaurant in Thomaston before it was torn down having a lunch. A couple from Texas walked in, sat down and looked at their menus. The man, with his big booming Texas voice and ten gallon hat, loudly asked the waitress if the lobster on the menu was real, because he didn't want any fake lobster! Stifling a chuckle, the waitress reassured him the lobster was real lobster. And he proceeded to chastise her, saying it had better be, because he didn't come all this way to get fake lobster. Hello, this is Maine. Maybe the low price for the lobster dinner is what threw him off.

Speaking more of Texans, I believe it was a Texas couple, driving their motor home down Route 1 near Rockport a couple of years ago, who lost their car. Yep, they were towing their car behind the bigger-than-most-houses motor home and it came loose and crashed into a field. Not too much damage to the car. Unfortunately, this clueless (or oblivious) couple didn't even notice their car was gone until they reached Damariscotta and a cop managed to catch their attention long enough to get them to stop. They'd driven about 35 miles without being aware their car was gone! Talk about idiots. But driving in Maine, especially on Route 1, is a whole 'nother topic.

Back on topic now. While I can understand missing the home state, Maine is a great place to live, and Mainers are a great bunch of people. Maybe too many have read Stephen King's novels, and feel the "natives" here are closemouthed, aloof, and don't like strangers. I really haven't found that to be the case. Like anyone, they don't like being looked down on, and too many people that come up here, whether for a visit or to live, tend to do just that. The reputation of "Dumb Mainahs" obviously persists in other states. I have found more idiots here that are from away than the natives. You cannot move here and bring your big city ways with you. It's a different world out here. Sometimes it may seem backwards to the clueless newbies, but it's just the way in this state. Yes, I agree some areas need improvement, but you can't bull in here and change things to they way you grew up. If more people realized that, I think those Michganders that gave up and returned home would have stayed and learned to appreciate the people, the ways, the life.

Voting and Town Meetings

2007-03-29T21:31:00.000-04:00

One thing I've had to adjust to in Maine, and found I absolutely love, is the way voting and voting registration is done here. In Michigan, you had to register six weeks before the election, and if you missed the deadline, you were SOL. Here in Maine, you can walk into the polling place on Election Day and register on the spot and vote. I think it's wonderful. And absentee ballots are so easy to get. You can get them up to the day before the vote. And you can have someone else pick them up for you if you can't get to the town office. And probably the best, is that even if you are in jail or in prison, you can vote. In a lot of states, if you have a felony, you're not allowed to vote again, ever. You are disenfranchised even after you've paid the price and done your time. Other states reqire a waiting period after you've been released. Only Maine and Vermont are far-sighted enough to let those who are paying for a mistake retain their voting rights. And I think it's great. This is one of the best things about Maine.

Town Meetings. Like the orange signs limiting heavy traffic on local roads, every March means Town Meetings begin. This is participatory democracy at its finest, even if the actual meetings do sometimes get contentious. In Michigan, you'd elect your council people and mayor, and then they'd do whatever they wanted. That's why there seemed to be so many recall elections. People shouldn't be governed like that. Oh, the townships had an annual meeting, but there was no voting by the citizenry. It was informational only. Here, every line of the town's budget is scrutinized, and debated in open forum, maybe modified, and then voted on. And anyone can grab a petition form and get enough townspeople to sign requesting something be placed on the ballot. Just get it back in time for the report printing, and it can go up for a vote.

Unfortunately, a lot of towns in Maine have chosen to go to a referendum type "meeting," where voting takes place in the privacy of a voting booth. Supposedly it's to get more participation. But the more towns go that route, the less oversight of our elected selectmen will happen, because amendments can't be made in the voting booth, and open discussion on the pros and cons of line items can't be done. To me, it'd be a sad end to democracy in action if town meetings end.

Most meetings are held on Saturday mornings, and refreshments are provided. My town's in on Tuesday night, which has precluded me from attending since I worked nights. And the one time there was a petition to change the meeting to Saturday, no one that could vote for it could attend because the meeting was Tuesday. A Catch-22 situation if I ever saw one. Needless to say, it was defeated and Bristol still has theirs on Tuesday night.

Election of the selectmen and other officials is held the day before, with regular voting hours, so at least shift workers can vote. But as we see in too many elections, it's the same old people running unchallenged over and over again. There's always write-ins, though.

Town reports (actual softcover books) are printed, and available beforehand, with all the warrants, town department reports, and the entire tax roll, including the delinquent ones. These books are beautifully done, and are a great history and reference of the town. Even though I usually can't attend, I do make it a point to get my copy of the town report. It makes good reading material, especially when you find out your neighbor, with the beautiful cape cod home with two fireplaces, attached garage and more (way more valuable of a house than you own) is listed as a parsonage and pays only half the taxes you do. Gaah!

And digressing from local government, our elected senators and representatives are way more accessible than any in Michigan. Here they're listed in the phone book, they return calls and emails, and even the Governor of the state is easy to talk with. I've been places where the governor was a guest of honor, and he'd sit down and talk with you, trade jokes and just generally shmooze. Try that in Michigan with the governor there and see what happens. You'd be arrested.

Learning new ways, and laws and words and all the other things you go through when you move away from what you've grown up with is hard sometimes. But if for no other reason I am happy to be here in Maine, what with putting up with the low pay rates, the high cost of living, the ridiculaous taxes, it's because here, I really do get to have a say in local government. It's grassroots democracy at its finest.

Time Zones and Daylight SavingTime

2007-03-27T14:23:00.000-04:00

Eastern Time. Same as in Michigan and Maine, right? Well, yeah, but not exactly. When you go from the far western part of the time zone to the far eastern, it's like changing to a different time. In fact, at one point there was talk of putting Maine into the Atlantic Time Zone. That didn't pan out. And parts of Michigan belong to Central Time.

After eight years, I still have trouble getting used to it being dark at 9:00 EDT in midsummer. I don't even notice the other end, though. Usually the only way I see a sunrise is to stay up for it. Being a night owl, with my usual suppertime around 7:30, it really makes it hard to grill in the dark. Especially on Independence Day. I have to hoover down my supper then I have to rush off to get into town to see fireworks. And by that time, it's too late to find a good parking spot, usually.

I'm going to veer from the usual to rant about the new Daylight Saving Time dates. They are stupid. I've never liked Daylight Saving Time to begin with, but extending it from the second week in March to the first week of November really makes no sense. Particularly here, where we might as well be in the Atlantic time zone. It's too darn dark in the A.M. when kids are going to school. And although it won't affect me too much, my hobby is Halloween. I do an awesome display (see Roadside Haunt) even though I don't get too many trick or treaters. But for those that do, trick or treating will be held in the daylight. And that is just completely wrong. It doesn't save energy. It never did, and never will. It just moves the clock around unnecessarily. Write to your senators and congresspeople and let them know your thoughts.

Dirt and other Scents

2007-03-26T14:32:00.000-04:00

I noticed the last post on the Michigan Native blog (another ex-patriate) mentioned missing the smell of Michigan dirt. That certainly got me to thinking about smells I miss. It's said that scents can bring a flood of memories back, and that is so true. Once in a while I'll catch a whiff of the water in our secondary bathroom, and it brings back floods of memories of our iron-enriched water in Caseville. But getting back to the smell of Michigan dirt, I certainly can relate to that. The smell, and the feel. Out here in Maine, we certainly don't have what you'd call good old-fashioned dirt. It's more like finely ground rocks. It's not anything like the rich, peaty, earthwormy, fertile dirt back home. Farmland...ah, how I miss you. And yes, even the smells of the "organic" fertilizer.

Growing vegetables is hard out here. Even along the coast. There's just not enough time between frosts to get some good home-grown tomatoes. And the sweet corn, while it does grow out here, is a very short season, and just isn't as sweet. Of course, the only way to do sweet corn is to have the pot of water boiling before you pick the corn. Husk it as you bring it back to the house, and drop it in the water just long enough for the water to come back to a boil. It's like eating sugar when you cook it that way. I've known people to boil the piss out of it. And that just ruins it. Best summertime lunch I've ever had? A sweet, juicy homegrown tomato sliced on homemade white buttered bread, a little salt and pepper on your tomato sandwich, and sweet corn cooked like above, dripping in butter.

This last month, we had to dig up our septic tank, as it was frozen. The local septic service that came out to thaw it recommended we put some hay over it to help prevent freezing. They just happened to have a bale to give us. As I was separating the flakes, I couldn't help but stop and inhale the aroma. I love hay. I just stood there for several moments with the hay to my face, taking deep breaths. I got the eye roll from my husband, but he doesn't understand. And it's not just me. The dog went nuts over it, too. She's a Michigan gal also, so she knows. Actually, that was kind of funny, she just stood there doing the exact same thing I was, inhaling the scent. And now if she goes outside, she just lies right down in the center of it. I don't go that far, but I do grab a handful and inhale as I go past.

Cities and Towns

2007-03-23T12:50:00.000-04:00

Living in Michigan for most of my life, I carried a map with me everywhere I went. My right hand. If someone wanted to know where a city or town was, I could point to it with my left hand. It even worked for the U.P., if you squished your fingers together and stuck up your thumb. Here, I have no reference point. In fact, that has been a big stumbling block in "orienting" myself here in Maine. I like to visualize on my "inner map" just where a particular city or town is in relation to where I'm standing. Hard to do that here. I've tried making a fist with my left hand, but have found no way to simulate the many peninsulas that just out from the coast. Or the islands.

One other thing I've had to get used to is the structure of towns here in this lovely state. There are no townships. Well, there are, but they are unincorporated, and have no government. Michigan has townships, all laid out in a nice straight square (except where they jut out into one of the big lakes) starting from Baseline Road (aka 8 Mile Road)and are a seat of government for the various towns and cities. We paid our property taxes to the township (and village or city).

Now here, the towns are analgous to the townships back home. I've had people ask me while at docent duty at Pemaquid, why the lighthouse is in New Harbor, but it's listed as Bristol. The best thing I can tell them is think of Bristol as a township. It's the overall government of this piece of real estate, but in that town, there are little villages, each with their own post office. In Bristol, we have Bristol (the main one in the Mills), Round Pond, Pemaquid, New Harbor and Chamberlain. But some towns don't have villages within, they're just one big town, such as Damariscotta. Or Wiscasset. Or Rockland and Warren. It just depends on the size, the way the town has grown up, and if it encompasses the entire boundary.

Another thing I have to be careful of, is the distinction between towns and cities in Michigan and towns and cities in Maine. They actually share quite a good number of place names. So I have to be specific. Some names in common (which is by no means complete):

Albion

Argyle

Auburn

Augusta

Bangor

Bath

Brunswick

Chelsea

China

Detroit

Eastport

Ellsworth

Falmouth

Farmington

Freeport

Goodrich

Houghton

Lewiston

Litchfield

Lincoln

Monroe

Newport

Northport

Oakland

Oxford

Portland

Presque Isle

Rockland

Rockwood

Warren

Washington

Waterford

Wells

Weather Thoughts

2007-03-22T13:28:00.000-04:00

The calendar says Spring, but here in Maine it's still winter. This is late March, and my Michigan biorhythm says the temps should be in the mid 50s or more. Looking at the Weather Underground site, I see there are severe thunderstorm watches in Michigan. Temps are in the 60s there. Here, we have lots of snow on the ground, and temps are "seasonable," about 40. I won't see a thunderstorm here until maybe July. If you can call it a thunderstorm. They're kind of wimpy around here.

Don't get me wrong, tornados and severe thunderstorms are devastating, but if you've grown up with them, you do tend to miss the wild weather conditions that can precipitate them. I've been through some devastating weather in Michigan, but fortunately never bad enough where I've been to damage any of the houses I had. We had a few bad ones in Holly, which was in Michigan's own tornado alley. Livingston, Sounthern Genesee, Northwest Oakland, Southwest Lapeer Counties seemed to get some wicked storms.

My youngest boy's earliest memory (according to him) is of a tornado in Caseville. No basement, so we were standing in the hall. The rain was coming through the doorwalls (locked) and it was as black as night in the afternoon. The tornado came ashore about a quarter mile from us, so our only damage was no power. Fears aren't a good thing, so to combat the fear of tornados, every March I played the "tornado training tape" for the boys, so they could understand that not every thunderstorm means a tornado is imminent.

I certainly do miss good thunderstorms. There was nothing quite like sitting on the beach watching the storms roll in. And the lightning show...nature's fireworks. It was beautiful. I do miss that, and the viewing of the aurora borealis. Of course, the best ones I've ever seen were here in Maine. But I can only imagine how they looked in Michigan, with a much more open view of the northern skies.

What happened to party stores?

2007-03-21T15:13:00.000-04:00

One of the other things I've had to adjust to is that there are no party stores here in Maine. Here we have convenience stores. And they're not quite the same thing. For a party store, think 7-11 stores. We do have 7-11s, but here they're convenience stores.
Back in Michigan, Party Stores sold beer, wine, perhaps liquor (another liguistic difference: it's called Package Liquor stores in Michigan, here it's Agency Liquor Stores), snacks and maybe gas. A few (very expensive) groceries like milk, dog food, juice, eggs might be thrown into the mix. Now here, at your local convenience store, which just might be in a converted old house, you can get real food. By real food, I mean homemade hot or cold sandwiches, homemade (not frozen) pizza, breakfast sandwiches, and more.

I'm fortunate to live near to a convenience store, and the spicy chicken sandwich rivals Wendy's. Their hamburger sub is nothing to laugh at, either. And the meatball sub, it's enough for two people. Another convenience store in Cooper's Mill has what they call a hoagy, which is a toasted roll with ham, cheese, bacon, mustard, heated in a toaster oven. Heavenly.

Speaking of roll, that's another difference. Maine doesn't have buns. It's a roll. Hard to get used to. I send someone to a store for hamburger buns, and the only thing there is hamburger rolls. And then there are hot dog rolls. And frankfurter rolls. There is a difference. Hot dog rolls are sort of like the hot dog buns I'm used to. Except they're usually not sliced. Frankfurter rolls are, well, different. Unlike the other, it's more like a piece of white bread folded in half. That's the best I can describe it, but by no means am I complaining. They are good. I usually buy those over hot dog rolls, because I can't stand having to slice them!

But getting back to convenience stores here in Maine, one other thing great about them is they're a place to hang out and talk to others. See what happens if you try to do that in Michigan: you'll be chased out for loitering. Not here. It's encouraged to hang out. Some convenience stores even have sit down tables or booths for eating. Yes, there are some mighty fine things about this state.

Food Translations and More

2007-03-20T15:19:00.000-04:00

So after learning a frappe is a milkshake as I know it, I had to learn some other food names. One wass chop suey. To me, chop suey is a Chinese meal, with rice, bean sprouts, water chestnuts, some type of meat (my mom used to use tuna) and an oriental sauce. Not here, though. Order chop suey and you'll get what I call goulash. Tomato sauce, hamburger, onions and elbow macaroni. Huh? An oriental name for a non-oriental dish? Well, when in Rome (or Maine in this case), do as the Romans do. I still call it goulash at home, though.

Another thing is a hot dog covered with a chili meat sauce and onions (and mustard). That's a Coney Island or Coney dog, named after the island in New York that popularized it. Order one of those around here, and you get a blank stare. It's strictly a chili dog. Often with cheese. The only onions are generally in the chili, which has beans in it!

Now an Italian. That's very specific to this region, although an Italian sub can be had back in Michigan. It's just made different. Here they put black olives on it. Otherwise, it's pretty much the same thing.

One thing I do appreciate more now is seafood. Back in Michigan, if you bought haddock at the store, it was in the frozen case, in a big frozen square block. After thawing, it still looked like a big frozen block, and smelled worse. Here, fresh haddock has become one of my favorite dishes, especially since I can't get any perch or walleye. Sweet, tender and delicious oven fried or baked and stuffed. And Maine shrimp. Heavenly. Back in Michigan, all shrimp (other than the very expensive fresh in the deli), was frozen, heavily battered, and nasty. Anyone who hasn't tried Maine shrimp is missing out on a taste experience rivalled by nothing.

Moving to Maine...It Gets Lost in the Translation

2007-03-20T00:28:00.000-04:00

Now that I've been in Maine for almost eight years, I can look back on the language translation problems from Michiganese to Mainese with humor. One country, one language, right? Well, not exactly. I didn't realize how much difference there was in regions of the country until I moved here. Even as recently as a couple of years ago, I'd still get the "huh" look on my face when I heard a word I'd never heard before.

Let's take a nice simple term, like the word for a refreshing carbonated soft drink. To me, it's pop. Here it's soda. That was a hard thing to get used to, since I bake with soda, and drink pop. Pop seems to be a Midwest/Great Lakes term, and I still think of it as such. I'll write it on my grocery list as pop, and that's what it is, period.

More words to translate, though. Frappe. Pronounced FRAP here in Maine, unlike the dictionary pronunciation, which is FRAP-PAY. This is what I have to order if I want a milkshake. If I order a milkshake here, I'll get a very think, watered down version of mostly milk. Not what I want. Even going to Dairy Queen, I have to specify I want a thick, frappe-like milkshake, because otherwise I'll get the watery kind.

Even more recently, my son was always talking about ice fishing traps, of which I had no clue as to what he was referring. I envisioned something like a lobster trap, but couldn't figure out how you'd get it through the ice. We just happened to be in Wal-Mart one day, and walking through the sporting goods aisle, he said he'd like an ice fishing trap like that particular one. I looked over, and it finally hit me. It's a tip-up. I glared at him and said, "Talk Michigan please." And you don't fish from a smelt shack. That's really an ice shanty. Sheesh, the kid's been here in Maine for too long.

Speaking of smelt, I guess that's about all you can fish for during the winter. And the smelt out here don't taste quite as good as they did back home in Michigan. There isn't any panfish to speak of around here. No bluegills, no yellow perch, no crappies, none of those fun (and delicious) fish. And forget walleye. And whoever heard of catching smelt with "traps" in the winter, anyway? That's a spring ritual to me, dipping for smelt. If the smelt are running, the perch can't be far behind. I remember getting a postcard every year from a restaurant in Caseville, which we'd fill out the year before. When the perch run began, they'd send them out, so we'd know when to head up.

More on translations next time.