Pet Peeve

One of the great benefits of an extended vacation in a place like Maine is the opportunity it provides for uninterrupted reading. I read every day, thirty minutes here, an hour there. But up here, I can read like it’s my job. So far, two novels completed, half way through a third. If you think that’s a lot, Kaitlin is on number six! 

A quick word and one pet peeve about one of the books I’ve read...

Back in 1999 a guy named Andre Dubus III wrote a novel called House of Sand and Fog, which became a National Book Award finalist and was later made into a movie starring Ben Kingsley. I found it in the book case downstairs, read the reviews and said, why not?...Ok, Dubus can write. Really well. But, never perhaps in the history of literature, has so much exquisite prose been wasted on so vile and pointless a story. Without knowing it, he wrote a novel that, if anti-government folks actually read, they would have hailed as their manifesto. Of course, this notion would never have occurred to Mr. Dubus who, no doubt, is most likely a raging leftist. Neither did it occur to any of the reviewers of this work who spent all of their time gushing over its empathy and longing. Here’s the problem...caution: spoiler alerts follow!!!

Kathy is a troubled young woman who cleans houses while living in the one thing her father gave her upon his death, a bought and paid for house in California. Colonel Behrani, is a former official associated with the autocrat, Shah Rena Pahlavi of Iran, who has just been overthrown and murdered by the radical mullahs back home. Behrani and his family had to flee the country because to stay would have meant execution. The trouble is, the Colonel is having a hard time adjusting to his greatly diminished life in America, where he works a series of odd jobs while living beyond his means to keep up appearances and to assuage his crushed ego. Lester, is a police officer with the local county who serves an eviction notice to Kathy in the first few pages of the book, for unpaid taxes. Of course, he falls for Kathy, out of the aforementioned empathy. Kathy is thrown out on the street despite claiming not to know anything about any back taxes. Meanwhile, the good Colonel, out of desperation to restore his family name and fortunes, decides to buy a house at auction with what remains of his nest egg, fix it up and sell it for a hefty profit. Naturally, his first auction yields him Kathy’s house, which he purchases for a mere $40,000. Immediately, he moves his family into the house that Kathy has been kicked out of. Like night follows day, Kathy ends up shacked up with Lester and thus begins the tragic downward spiral which ultimately results in the following:

- the murder/ suicide of Colonel Behrani and his wife

- the death of their son from a gunshot wound administered by a county policeman

- the incarceration of Kathy and Lester for the rest of their miserable lives

Halfway through the book, we discover that all of this Greek tragedy has been set in motion by the feckless and incompetent county government of San Mateo, who had been sending delinquent tax notices to Kathy’s house because of a spelling error. In fact, Kathy owed nothing to the county. Therefore, not only was she evicted illegally, the ensuing sale of her house at auction to Colonel Behrani was itself illegal! No where in this story does the county government suffer any consequences for their bureaucratic bumbling. In fact, their coffers were enriched by $40,000, and one of their employees killed a teenage boy as a bonus! Mr. Dumus doesn’t even make an attempt to address this outrage, since he’s so fixated in examining the cultural clash involved. 

Isn’t this always the way it goes in life? Some pencil pushing functionary down at the county can’t spell, and before you know it, three people are dead and two others get life in prison! But, guess who gets off Scott free? That’s right...our public servants. Like the apologists for the Soviet Union used to say...if you’re going to make an omelette, you’ve got to break a few eggs.

End of rant. No more literary criticism. My next blog will be back to vacation news. Or maybe I’ll follow my daughter’s advice and give the people what they want..a blog about Kaitlin! 

Here Comes The Sun

On the fifth day of our vacation, we finally got to see what the lake looks like in the sunshine. Yesterday was pretty much perfect. The sky became crystal clear and bright blue around 10 o’clock in the morning. The high temperature topped out at 80. Kayaks were deployed early and often and there were a couple of paddle board sightings. By late afternoon, the floats finally made an appearance. But mostly, we all just hung out on the dock reading and talking, interrupted only by either the loons or the arrival of a dog at the public boat landing a few hundred yards down the shore from us. By the time the dock was in the shade, it was a mess. We hardly had room for the cheese tray...

Since yesterday was Patrick and Sarah’s last full day with us, the plan was to cap off this wonderful day with a campfire and s’mores around this great fire pit...

But, just about the time I was about to light the fire, we heard thunder off in the distance. After consulting the weather radar, we discovered a large and menacing storm mere minutes away. No fire. But, one thing I’ve learned over the years about women, Dunnevant women in particular, is that once the idea of chocolate enters their heads, no thunderstorm in the world will deny them. So...

Yes, that’s us...toasting marshmallows over the blue flame of a gas stove...just like the pioneers used to do it! Behold the newest member of the family, unwilling to even put down her skewer while enjoying her s’more, afraid that someone will take it from her!!

So, this afternoon, I will take Patrick and Sarah to the airport, their two week honeymoon nearly over. They will fly home to Nashville to begin the rest of their lives together. Hopefully, they will always recall the time they spent here on this lake with fondness. 

This morning, we are headed in to Camden for blueberrie pancakes at Camden Deli, a morning of walking around this beautiful town and probably some ice cream at Riverducks.

We Actually Have A Plan Today

We have been in Maine now for almost three days and have enjoyed maybe six hours of sunshine. The rest of the time it has been a cloudy, fog shrouded mist-fest. On the positive side, no rain, it hasn’t gotten out of the 70’s, and no biblical plagues seem imminent. Despite the disappointing weather, yesterday was a delight. There was kayaking, the reading of books and solving of world problems down on the dock, a fantastic dinner feast featuring Paula’s wicked good campah chicken, an after dinner trip to Round Top ice cream, and a slideshow of pictures from Patrick and Sarah’s California honeymoon. Oh, and this morning...

Ok, in sharing this information, I run the risk of revealing that I have run afoul of some obscure Maine environmental regulation. If so, I’m sure my Maine buddy, Alan, will let me know all about it! Anyway, when I was out on the kayak yesterday I saw this beautiful lilly pad in the next cove over. So, I picked three of the prettiest blooms to give to the three lovely ladies in my family. Somebody put one of them in a martini glass, whereupon it almost immediately shriveled up into a green oblong shell which made it look exactly like an olive. Cute. Only, this morning, when I came down to make my coffee...

I take this as a sign. Today will be a sunnier day.

Today actually has a plan, of sorts, on the agenda. This afternoon, we will make our first run into Camden. It is 35 minutes away, the farthest we have ever stayed from this marvelous village. We will putz around in the shops, make a visit to Riverducks ice cream, and spend entirely too much time in The Smiling Cow. But, the real reason we will have come to town is to see a performance of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, performed outside in the beautiful amphitheater of the Camden Public Library, overlooking the harbor.

After the show, we will have dinner at one of the great restaurants that offer stunning views of Penobscot Bay and all of the stately triple masted schooners that are scattered around the harbor among the yachts, great and small. If we are lucky enough to get a table at Waterfront, we will get to see people walking their dogs down the boardwalk right in front of us. And if the moon comes out, this will be our view...

But, hey...I don’t want to give the impression that I’m living in some fantasy world where all of the stress of life has somehow vanished. Nothing could be further from the truth. Why, just yesterday the reel on my fishing pole broke. Now, I’m going to have to traipse all the way into Damariscotta and buy a new one. Oh, and there are three separate recycling bins in this house!! So confusing. Plus...the nightcrawlers I bought at the general store yesterday seem listless. Listen, people...all God’s children got problems, am I right?

A Very Cool Twenty Minutes

“We made it all the way to Maine because somebody promised us a free vacation, but nobody is here to pick us...no wait, there’s Dad!!”

Yesterday, something amazing happened. All four of my kids made it to Maine, with their luggage, with virtually no delays, cancellations, or invasive body cavity searches. We made it back to the house by 11 o’clock. It was nothing short of a travel miracle. At 7 am, all of them are sound asleep. For the next six days, we will all be here together. At this moment, we have nothing scheduled. Each day will be dealt with on its own terms. The weather will determine how we spend our time. If the forecast is to be believed, the next couple of days will involve a lot of indoor activities. But, yesterday’s forecast ended up being wrong, when the sun came out for four hours in the afternoon. So, who knows?

Yesterday morning, I experienced an amazing twenty minutes. For reasons that escape me, I woke up at 5:30. There was no point in fighting it...I was up. So, I brewed some coffee and slipped downstairs to walk down to the dock. When I emerged from the sliding glass door, I looked up and saw a magestic deer standing next to the Adirondack chairs, no more than 100 feet from me. She lifted her head, turned toward me and froze peacefully for a brief moment, her huge, dark eyes locked on me. One of her ears twitched, then she sprang off gracefully into the woods, disappearing in an instant. As I walked down the lane towards the dock, I heard the loud squawking of birds in the trees to my right, loud and frantic. The instant I stepped on to the dock, a bald eagle swooped down towards the lake in a majestic wide arc, as if he wanted to make sure I knew who he was. After passing right in front of me, he changed direction and headed around the bend. I thought...wow. Ten minutes later, a family of ducks swam by, paying me no attention whatsoever. As soon as they were out of sight, I heard my first loon call.

It was as if they were all saying, welcome back, human...welcome back to Maine.

Arrived

In the old days, when Pam and I were horrible parents, we used to lay the kids down in the floor of the van in their sleeping bags...with no seatbelts...while we made the 13 hour drive straight through the night. When we made our first stop on the New Jersey turnpike for gas, they would sit up briefly, bleary-eyed, and ask...Are we at Maine yet?

Well kids...yes, we are at Maine...

The green iron bridge over the Piscataqua River which greets you at the border was obscured by a blanket of fog and a light drizzle. Despite this dreary reception, the two day drive up this year was as uneventful a trip as we have had in quite some time. No long delays, no backups, and for thirteen hours on the road, we never saw a single accident...a first!

The weather forecast around here looks bleak for the next several days, something about which we can do absolutely nothing. The lake was fogged in yesterday, so the pictures I took outside don’t reveal much. I can imagine how delightful this property will be once the sun comes out...

It’s all there, waiting for the sun.

The house is another story all together. The downstairs looks and smells exactly like a Maine lakehouse, which is to say...perfect.

  

The upstairs is like a completely different house, decorated and appointed to within an inch of its life...

  

The bedrooms are huge and beautiful...

...with bathrooms you could double park a pickup truck in...

   

So, our home for the next three weeks will do quite nicely. Today will be a busy one. After breakfast, Pam and I will make the arduous 4 mile drive into the Damariscotta Hannaford’s for the initial grocery run. This is a very big deal, and something for which my wife is ideally suited by education, training and experience. She has her grocery app filled out, her iPad fully charged, and has that I’m on a mission, get out of my way look I have come to know and fear. By the time we are done, you could drop open any Julia Child cookbook to any random page and we will have every ingredient needed to make whatever dish happens to come up.

This evening, I will be driving into Portland to pick up Jon, Kaitlin, Patrick and Sarah who hopefully will have all landed without delays from Columbia and San Francisco. By the time we fall into our beds tonight, all six of us will be together, and at that point if it’s raining outside, it won’t matter.

Today’s To-do List

THINGS TO DO TODAY

- record compliance approved away message on my office phone

This is sort of a big deal. Whenever someone in my line of work is going to be away for any protracted period of time (two or more weeks), this must be disclosed fully to clients. You must reveal exactly how long you will be gone and give instructions for how you can be contacted in case of emergency, and also provide a back up contact. What follows is what I would like to leave as my away message:

Ok folks..for the next three weeks I will be away on vacation. You can leave all the messages you want, but I won’t be returning any calls until I return. I mean, I love you guys and all, but if you need to take ten grand out of your account so you can go to Atlantic City, you’re just gonna have to figure out how to do it by yourself. If the market happens to be in free fall, what in God’s name would you like me to do about it? I’m in Maine. Just chill out until I get back. Peace out.

My actual away message will be the picture of professionalism, and any actual emergency will get a prompt return call...cellphone service permitting...cough, cough.

- pick up life sustaining prescriptions at CVS

- cut grass

- pack for trip

This is a little harder than it sounds for two reasons. First, three weeks is a long time, and second...it’s Maine. Even though it’s summer, you just can’t throw a bunch of shorts and T-shirt’s in a suitcase and be done with it. When you wake up in the morning and it’s 52 degrees out, you’re gonna need a little something more than your Bank of Dad...a lending institution since before I can even remember...T-shirt. No, you’re going to have to pack for sunny day Maine and cloudy day Maine which means plenty of jeans and long sleeve shirts. The hardest part is deciding which outfit will be the designated camp fire outfit. That’s the one outfit you wear every night around the fire. That way, only one outfit ends up smelling like Smokey Bear after he hasn’t bathed in two months. But, as thorny as this can be for me, it’s a tedious ordeal for Pam. She agonizes over each and every outfit, every accessory, like its project runway or something. Of course her attention to detail pays off because she always looks great...while I try to explain to her why this striped polo shirt goes quite well with those plaid shorts.

- get haircut

As my Dad would have said...Actually, I think I’ll get all of them cut!

- workout

- get car detailed

This is an old habit of mine that makes zero sense. Before leaving on any road trip, I always take the car to a car wash and give it the works. I just like hitting the road in a sparkling clean vehicle. What I should do, of course, is wait until I get where I’m going to get it cleaned. Old, unproductive and illogical habits are hard to break.

- go by Hand and Stone for my monthly massage

In a master stroke of meticulous planning, I scheduled my monthly deep tissue massage for 4:00 in the afternoon of the day before a two day road trip. 

- just before drifting off to sleep tonight, whisper to Pam...Were goin’ to Maine, we’re goin’ to Maine.

Pam’s Birthday

Today is Pam’s birthday. It’s getting lost in trip preparation. She has firmly informed the family that there will be no gifts this year, no hubbub. All she wants for her birthday is for us to be together in Maine next week. Several times in the history of this blog I have published testimonials to her virtue on this day. I will refrain from such wife-bragging today. Instead, I decided to search through a thousand or so photographs to find my two favorites of her, which you see above. A word of explanation...

The first one was taken on the occasion of my 50th birthday trip to the Cayman Islands. We were on a thirty minute boat ride across the bay, headed to dinner at some restaurant on a smaller island when somebody volunteered to take this picture. I’m not sure if she has ever looked more beautiful. Maybe it was the sun, or that dress or her tan. She looks like a movie star.

The one on the right is a completely different story. This one was taken several years ago at one of her favorite places in the world...Riverducks Ice Cream. It’s a little hole in the wall in Camden, Maine that serves 12 different Maine-inspired flavors of ice cream. Each year, she makes it her goal to try all 12 before we leave for home. This was Sarah’s first trip to Maine. We were all so relieved that she fell in love with Maine, because if she had hated it, Patrick would have been forced to dump her. Anyway...just look at my wife’s face. Look at that smile. That is the smile of contentment and complete happiness. She is surrounded by everything that she truly loves in this world...and just about to devour a double scoop helping of Megunticook Mayhem.

Just a few more days, sweetie.

Happy birthday.