Category: Commentary

I suppose that there is nothing quite as dreary as a long drive back home after a picture perfect vacation spent in Maine. When the time came to leave our nest in Brunswick and say goodbye to our granddaughter we felt a reluctance to put the little slice of heaven that we had so enjoyed into our rearview mirror. Sadly reality was calling and we knew it was time to go.

It was raining rather heavily as we began to retrace the miles that had brought us. We sped along through Maine, then New Hampshire and a bit of Massachusetts. At a stop in New York state we were serenaded by a man with a surprisingly good voice and a very kind heart. He wished us godspeed and we set out for one more drive across the George Washington Bridge, a challenge in any kind of weather even for people like us who handle Houston traffic like professional Nascar drivers. Luckily we once more made it into New Jersey without incident even if the process of doing so was nerve wracking. 

From an area near the Newark airport we had a glorious final glimpse of the massive New York City skyline. It was a beautiful sight by any standards. I had to laugh because the owner of an art shop in Portland had told us that in spite of all the wonderful paintings that he had for sale, it was a pen and ink print of the Big Apple’s skyline that was the most popular. I totally understood why that was so and wished that I too had purchased one of the prints that so reminded me of what we saw as we moved along the highway.

We had gone many miles for many hours so we stopped a a Service Center along the New Jersey Turnpike that was as good as the Buccee’s that we have in Texas (and now in many other parts of the South). The bathrooms were huge and impeccably clean. The food options were numerous. We chose Prêt and enjoyed lovely ham and cheese sandwiches on croissants. It was just what we needed to push on with our journey, We were feeling refreshed and ready to complete the last leg of the day.

As we drove along it occurred to me that we were close to Princeton University, so in the spirit of visiting as many centers of higher education as possible we briefly detoured just to walk around the campus for a time. It was as beautiful and awe inspiring as I had imagined. It reminded me of an American version of Cambridge. I recalled reading in Michelle Obama’s autobiography that  her first reaction upon arriving at the campus as a freshman was stark terror. She wondered how it was possible that she had ended up there and felt an urge to bolt but knew that she had to push herself to demonstrate her mettle. Of course she was more than worthy and successful. The road to her amazing life was well on its way.

I have a cousin who once played football for Princeton. He is a tall strong handsome fellow who as a young man we lovingly called Superman/Clark Kent because he was both powerful and humble at one and the same time. I was glad to finally see where he had gone to college and felt even more admiration for him than I already had. 

Because of our deviation from the original travel plan we ended up heading back to Delaware by way of Philadelphia. There was no time to stop there, but I had visited before and smiled at the thought of the Benjamin Franklin Museum, Betsy Ross’s house, the stairs that Rocky used to train for his fight, and Independence Hall. It is a great city with so much American history that it takes days to see it all. I truly believe that every single American should visit there and read about our Founders who launched the dream of a new kind of government of the people and for the people almost two hundred fifty years ago. 

Those brave and intelligent men stunned a world order that did not believe that their experiment would be lasting, and yet here we are. I thought of the warnings they gave us about preserving our nation and realized that our government is not just a given. We have to work hard as citizens to ensure that it continues. Right now we are in an unusual place but also one that those brilliant men feared might one day come. It will be up to us to be sure that we do not let their dream die.

From Philadelphia it was a short hop to Delaware where we once again spent the night. I hate to admit that nothing about Wilmington spoke to me, but I was still glad to see it and add it to my list of cities that I have visited if only briefly. I realized as I counted Delaware it among my states that I have now seen every one of the fifty save for Idaho, Iowa, Oregon, Alaska and Hawaii. I suppose that my next journey needs to be in a westward direction through Iowa, Idaho and Oregon where I might also pick up Alaska with a cruise. Then I’ll only need to find a way to get to Hawaii and my state collection will be complete, a goal that my father was close to realizing before his untimely death. It would be up to me to secure his dream with a couple of extra places that were not part of our union back in nineteen fifty seven.

For the time being, our plan was to spend most of the following day seeing more of Virginia and traveling to Monticello to visit the home that it took Thomas Jefferson more that forty years to build. I suppose that he was a bit too busy doing other things to put it together quickly or maybe he was like my maternal grandfather who put together his home room by room until he had what he wanted. Whatever the reason, I was quite excited about finally viewing a place that had interested me for many years. 

Because they say that one picture says more than a thousand words forthwith are some scenes from Maine that may explain why I love it so much.

I selected only a few from dozens of photos that I have of Maine. I now understand why Stephen King loves it there. It is little wonder that the Bush family meets regularly at Kennebunkport. Maine is a wonder, a lovely state jutting out into the Atlantic Ocean with miles and miles of coastline. It is a train ride away from Boston or a half day drive to New York City. With all of the heat and frustrations of climate change it was an oasis in the middle of August and all of the towns are well prepared for winters. In my mind it is a wonderful place to visit, attend a world class college or settle down with living. If you have never been there I urge you to make a plan to do so. It is a wonder just waiting for you to come. The people are friendly and the food is delicious. Give it a try.

We wanted to visit Portland while we were in Maine in spite of our daughter’s comment that it was not worth the effort. Instead after enjoying another yummy meal at Wild Oats we drove south and soon were walking through the downtown area and beginning to think that the critique had been somewhat accurate. There really was not much to see there so we travelled down to the the port which was buzzing with activity and way too many tourists for our tastes. It was great to see but we had become accustomed to the slow pace of Brunswick, Topsham, Freeport and other enchanting areas and somehow did not find all of the commotion to be enticing. 

We decided to instead to head over the the Portland Head Lighthouse. It was also filled with curious travelers, but the fantastic views of the ocean made the crowds more bearable. We walked around a bit and took several photos before heading over to Falmouth where Mike’s favorite professor and mentor, Dr. S. Henry Monsen, had once lived. It was a beautiful area boasting lovely homes and stunning seaside views. It was also the location of Town Landing Market where we had once enjoyed incredibly delicious crab rolls with our friends, Egon and Marita. 

The place had hardly changed and the tastiness of the crab roll was as delicious as ever. There had been a short rainfall just before we arrived but we still found an outside table protected under an overhang. We enjoyed our luscious meal in a quiet and serene atmosphere watching the people who walked or drove by. It was an idyllic scene that made me want to enquire about homes for sale in the area. 

I remembered how relaxing the evenings with Dr. Monsen had been in our previous visits when we sat outside sipping on wine and listening to Hank entertain us with his outlooks on the world. I thought of how wonderful it would be to spend just one more hour with him for old times sake. Instead we simply drove around on a tour of the little town and then headed back to Brunswick satisfied with our brief visit to days gone by, 

We agreed to meet our granddaughter a bit later than usual on our final day in Maine. She had some business to keep her busy during the morning so we instead drove to the area where we had seen an old cemetery. We have a tendency to walk around in such places to get an idea of the history of the area. This one was particularly interesting because it was in a field next to a still active church that was established in the early eighteen hundreds. Many of the folks resting for eternity there had been born before the American Revolution. Their stories engraved on weathered headstones spoke of faith and hardships. The saddest among them were those dedicated to women who died from complications in childbirth and those of babies who lived for only weeks or months before succumbing. It was quite humbling to think of how difficult the times must have been.

On this adventure we also encountered a cattle pound created out of local stones during the seventeen hundreds. The circular enclosure was used to round up stray animals that were wandering about the town. It was secured by a locked gate so that nobody would be able to help themselves to the livestock without first proving ownership and then paying fines and fees for the care and feeding of the creatures. 

A little farther down the road we saw a delightful sight. Colorful quilts were hanging on a clothesline marked with a sign that they were for sale. We only stopped long enough o take a photo of the lovely creations even though I wanted to know more about the person who had created them. I suppose that Mike was holding his breath lest I suggest finding out how much they cost and then insist on buying one. 

We picked up our granddaughter around lunchtime and headed to Harpswell again where we indulged in more seafood at The Dolphin, a restaurant with yet another amazing view of the ocean. We sat outside at a wooden table taking in the glories of the area. The scene was breathtaking and the food was outstanding. My order of haddock came with a complimentary blueberry muffin that put every other one I have eaten to shame. It was so wonderful there that I was reluctant to leave. I again found myself imagining what it would be like to live in Maine full time, but I’m not so sure I would take to the winter weather. 

Our time in Maine was coming to an end. We helped our granddaughter run a few more errands before we were scheduled to leave. A visit to Target and a late dinner at Panera Bread closed the chapter on our visit. We had hoped to try a Colombian restaurant called Maiz but unfortunately most of the locally owned places were closed on Monday. We would have to return one day to fulfill that experience. Perhaps we will be back when the time comes for her to graduate from college. I’m more than ready to put that date on my calendar and make reservations for another beautiful visit to Maine. 

One more night at our quaint motel and a good night’s rest readied us for the two thousand mile journey back home. In spite of loving my everyday life in Texas I was not yet ready to say goodbye to Maine.

We picked up our granddaughter early on a gloriously sunny and cool Saturday morning. She recommended that we start our day by visiting a local eatery called Wild Oats located in one of the many nearby towns that dotted the area. The drive through the countryside was worth the trip, so it was an added treat to find the incredible variety of food at the huge complex. 

It was difficult to decide whether to get a breakfast sandwich or just try the many enticing pastries on display. There were even huge containers of soups of every kind and salads that appeared to have been prepared straight from a garden. I felt like a kid in a candy story as I tried to decide what I wanted to eat. A conversation with a couple who were in town for the Bowdoin College International Music Festival convinced me that I had to taste “the world’s best” mushroom soup. Since they were filling several one quart containers to the rim I felt that the soup must be quite special, so I dove in without hesitation. 

At first we sat outside to enjoy the pleasant seventy degree weather, a welcome change from the unremitting heat of one hundred degree days back home. A busy bee determined to invade our space drove us back inside. I did not mind the inconvenience created by the bee because I am allergic to that insect’s stings. Besides my mushroom soup was as heavenly as the people had described. Nothing would have been able to ruin my delight. I found myself wishing that I had purchased more of the yummy concoction like the people who had recommended it to me had done. 

We made one more trip to gather more of my granddaughter’s belongings that were locked away in a storage unit. We made quick work of getting everything in her room and then headed to Freeport, the mecca for those of us who like camping and the outdoors, also known as the headquarters of LL Bean.

The town of Freeport is lovely and a kind of village has built up over the years around the LL Bean complex. We parked near a British store and then leisurely walked through the many shops leading to our main destination. Just as we were about to enter one of the many LL Bean stores we were approached by a friendly fellow who asked if we would like to be VIP guests at the concert scheduled for the evening. 

At first we were not sure if we were about to be entangled in a scam, but we soon learned that the invitation was legitimate so we registered for the event. We were presented with lanyards declaring that we were LL Bean VIPs for the day which made us mini celebrities wherever we went for the rest of our time in Freeport, especially inside the LL Bean stores 

I have been a huge fan of LL Bean for years. I get one of their live wreaths every Christmas and sometimes send them to friends as gifts. Their flannel shirts are the best and I find myself purchasing at least one of them regularly as well. In fact I had Mike take a photo of a new pattern that I would like to receive for Christams or my birthday.

Walking through their big store was like a fairyland for me. It literally took hours to see everything and I made notes of many items that will be on my shopping list this fall. I found myself wishing that it is actually cold enough to use all of the wonderful things they have to offer in the place where I live. I don’t know if the LL Bean products are of a special kind of quality that lasts forever or if they do so for me because I use most of what I purchase only a few times each year in my almost tropical town. 

Mike found a light jacket to wear when there is a chill in the air in Texas. Our granddaughter wanted a pair of soft pajamas and I found some fabulous sweatpants on sale along with an adorable pair of winter slippers. Of course we had to get some blueberry jam as well because blueberries are the special fruit of Maine. I also made a checklist of comforters and sheets that I plan to purchase once I returned home.  

We were happy with our finds but quite hungry so we found a pub that was bustling with people which is always a good sign. The food was as excellent as everything we had already sampled in Maine. As a Houston foodie I was never once disappointed by the culinary delights that we found. 

The weather was becoming chilly as the sun began to set so we made another trip back to LL Bean to purchase a warm throw to keep us from getting cold while we watched the concert. With our VIP badges we were ceremoniously led to the front of the outdoor seating where each of us received an LL Bean bag with a cap and a very nice aluminum water bottle inside. We really did feel special and continued to marvel at our good fortune. 

The event featured Shawn Colvin and Marc Cohn, two Grammy winning songwriters and performers. None of us had heard of them but as soon as they began to perform we knew that we were in the presence of incredibly talented professionals. For an hour and a half plus an encore they kept us spellbound and tapping our toes. Not even the coolness of the night could dampen our enthusiasm. We felt as special as LL Bean had hoped we would. We went back to our motel room excited about what we might see next and one hundred percent in love with Maine. Given an opportunity I do believe I would move there in a heartbeat. 

Maine was originally part of Massachusetts with settlement by colonists as early as the sixteen hundreds. The relationship with Massachusetts lasted for almost two hundred years but the citizens in the area that would become Maine often felt neglected by the state government. When Massachusetts left the coastline unprotected during the War of 1812 the citizens began to lobby for independence. That break came with the Missouri Compromise when Maine became a free state to balance the slave state of Missouri. In 1820, Maine was officially named the twenty third state in the Union.

Before meeting up with our granddaughter we struck out on our own taking in the glories of the countryside. There is water everywhere in the form of lakes, creeks, rivers and the ocean. The land itself is filled with ancient trees and lovely flowers in the spring and summer. Signs of history as far back as the beginnings of our nation abound. There is a find of unspoken reverence for the preservation of both nature and historic places in the area. 

We were stunned by the presence of so many older individuals and would eventually learn from our granddaughter that an aging population is actually a major concern of the state. The majority of residents are retired and growing older creating problems for the workforce and housing. There are not enough locals young enough to fill the jobs and those who choose to live in Maine find it difficult to find affordable housing. Leaders worry that not enough is being done to encourage younger Americans to embrace the state. 

Bowdoin College is at the center of the town of Brunswick which had been our destination. Its massive campus and student houses dominate much of the main street in the town. Founded just after the American Revolution, it has been a center of education for famous authors, politicians, and entrepreneurs. It is consistently ranked in the top five of liberal arts colleges in the nation, presently at number three. Known as a “Little Ivy” it is home to some of the top students in the country. Only five hundred young men and women are chosen to enter the freshman class each year. The competition is fierce with applicants from all fifty states and from around the world. 

When students arrive for their first year they sign a book that also contains names like Longfellow, Franklin Pierce and Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, a hero of the Union Army during the Civil War who received a Medal of Honor for his actions at the battle of Gettysburg. Chamberlain would eventually become president of the college as well. 

The time honored traditions at the school continue year after year. All two thousand of the students feast on lobster at the beginning of a new season of study. There are fall athletic competitions between other “Little Ivies” like Amherst and Colby. The faculty members make it a point to get to know each of their students and to guide them on their educational journeys. The school offers opportunities for internships, job placements, and admissions to graduate programs that are unparalleled with a near perfect graduation rate.

Once we met up with our granddaughter we spent a great deal of time exploring the buildings on campus and learning about the school followed by a quick trip to the Giant Steps in Harpswell, one of Maine’s many coastal towns. It was a quaint village nestled on ancient rocks including those that appear to be a stairway for a giant person. The waves crashed on the formations and boats dotted the water in the distance. It was a breathtaking view that I will never forget. It contrasted with the seeming serenity of the white houses on the cliffs that were festooned with summer flowers. No postcard could have better captured the essence of Maine. 

The rest of our day was dedicated to moving our granddaughter’s belongings from her internship apartment to the house in which she will live this school year. Given that we filled the back of our truck four times and made multiple trips up and down the narrow stairs, we were glad that we had decided to come help her. I can’t even imagine how she would have accomplished this alone with only a bicycle to carry her back and forth. 

With group effort we knocked out the work quickly and decided it was time for dinner. She recommended a place called the Salty Dog which was packed with hungry revelers.The menu was massive with a variety of seafood, sandwiches and burgers. I decided to try the shrimp which was quite good while Mike, chose the haddock which was out of this world. The ambiance was lively and lovely with a spectacular view of the river. We enjoyed learning all about the area from our granddaughter and watching the people as they passed by our table. We realized very quickly that the folks in Maine are incredibly friendly. 

We were all tired from the exertion of moving our granddaughter from one place to another so we departed and headed back to the motel to rest up for the coming adventures. We happened to see that one of our favorite movies, Jeremiah Johnson, was showing on television so we of course had to watch it even though Mike had viewed it so many times that he was quoting lines along with the actors throughout the film. Somehow we felt that it had been a perfect day.