Maine Dew,
near Trenton, Me.
Sepember 14 2005

Our re-entry into the states has been damp. Alternating between dew, fog, rain, dew, fog, rain, dew, fog, rain, dew, fog, rain, dew, fog, rain, dead skunk in the middle of the road, dew, fog, rain, dew, fog, rain.



Short wait at the border crossing,
Calais, Maine











At times, even the most mundane, malodorous object can become compelling. Break that monotony.

The three days in St. John were so damp and now the stay in Maine promises the same....a remnant from a hurricane and tropical storm system that has besieged the North Carolina shore, Ophelia. I was honored to be selected as chairman of the journal committee, so the last few days will be somewhat hectic, wrapping the final chapter for distribution at the final banquet. I had also volunteered to do a warm-up routine for the emcee, John Wittman. I'm going to fry some of the caravanners, but in a light, non-libelous manner. Hell, nobody knows my home address, so I should be able to pull it off.


We are nearing the end and I'd like to share with you what has developed into a caravan "rhythm". With little variation at each successive stop, the advance team (the parkers) prepares for the troop arrival. It begins innocently and slowly, a few large trailers, a steady stream of motorhomes as large as buses with shiny new cars in tow, vans and trucks packed full of eager and hopeful faces, pouring past the park gatehouse. A small, private, empty campground can erupt into a suburban development gone mad, new neighbors moving in every minute.





Found adhered to the side
of a 1964, 19" A/S,
Trenton, Maine







Dr. Seuss would have loved it. They come in every imaginable contraption, motors revving, brakes squeaking, as they search for their numbered piece of paradise. Husbands yell at wives as they manuever their homes on wheels backwards. Motorhomes are leveled, awnings stretched, electric jacks whine, hitches unclick, tarps and welcome mats laid, extension cords, hoses strategically construed to define each homestead.

Check your antenna, your
step, and your navigator.












Satellite dishes emerge, set-up, aimed, re-aimed in a choreography resembling a tribal dance. Away from irritating trees, atop picnic tables, anchored on tripods, the musical score of beeping signals resonating 200 channel success from the southwest sky. More of a performance than work, every task a collaborative effort in its execution.

I've been reading "Walden", by Thoreau, and he observed that our luxuries have burdened us to the point that we are slaves to them. Not machines working for men, but men spending their lifetime working for machines. I often wonder. How did he know that ? Was he watching the Discovery Channel?

Recently I read of an affliction, "affluenza", that suggests what many of us suffer from, the viral burden of too much affluence. Think about it.

Finally, as if to signal the end of it all, lawn chairs begin to snap to attention as they stop and sit for a moment, satisfied, content, able to get away from it all. An interesting phenomenon occurs when people are gathered together. Some begin to spend time looking at one another, wondering what the others must be like. That is what happened here...slowly recognizing the importance of each individual, if only on the surface, then disembarking in seventy two hours to begin the process anew.

The irony is the fragile thread that brought us together. Listen carefully to how preposterous the attachment might appear to a casual objective observer.....you all own the same brand of RV ? That's it ?? So. Would you gather with people who owned the same brand of automatic washer (Maytag, Kenmore), same brand of underwear (Munsingwear, Hanes) or take the same brand of antidepressant (Zyprexa, Zoloft) ? Hardly. A stretch when examined as a rational behavior, but it does seem to work.














On a sunnier day, near Peggy's Cove,
This was the best fish and chips,
ever. Fredie was truly fantastic.









Charlie and who else,

Fredie.








The department of tourism might describe today's condition as mysterious, moody, or even mystical. I'm going with foggy, wet, and cloudy. The answer my friend, is written...........