Maine: Day 1:July 22/Getting There

Settle in. This was a well-documented trip!!

My original plans were to drive to Denis's on Monday night and avoid the flutter and bustle of getting to Atlanta during morning rush hour as our flight to Portland left at 10:25, but a tremendous thunderstorm of biblical proportions (lightning, hail, torrential rain) descended around 8 just minutes before I was ready to leave and thwarted my plans. I kept waiting for the deluge and its accoutrements to subside, but it was having none o'that, so at 11 I decided I would indeed embark with sun's rise. And what a sun rise it was! Here's a shot of that situation taken from the gas station where I'd stopped for an injection just a wee ways from my house. I took this as a good omen.


On about the last six or seven flights I've been on, I've not had a window seat, a situation that sent me into paroxysms of agony, for I do love my view. And yes, I try to reserve a window seat THAT IS NOT OVER THE WING, but have waxed unsucessful for too long. The last flight, I was plopped down in mid-plane and declared to my travel companion that I would deplane the next time I got stuck like that! I like to throw a little spoiled diva fit every now and again, just for fun, see. Ain't nothin ever come of em....

So, determined to get what I want through sane avenues, I notice on the Maine flight that my assigned seat is OVER THE WING, meaning I won't see doodly, so I shift it to the last row on the plane, triumphant with victory. Which was short-lived. Here is my view:

"What in the HELL is this aqua thing blocking the window?" I ask Denis as we take our seats. "Is it going to STAY there the WHOLE FLIGHT??"
"Uh, that's the engine," he says, "and I really do hope it stays."

Oh, wait, look. I was able to see a sliver of sky:

In addition to this ill-advised seating change, we were in the midst of a screeching circle of woe consisting of badly-behaved urchins and the parents who brought them into this world only to drive others batshit. No attempt to discipline, to quell the misbehavior, nothing. I'm sympathetic toward parents who are TRYING to make the kids behave. Those types appear to have passed out of currency.

But we landed eventually, procured the rental car (a Dodge Avenger, which I didnt think much of, frankly, after driving it a bit...zippo pick-up and almost impossible to see out of when backing up, changing lanes, etc. FYI) and were soon on our way to our rented cabin on the coast in Trenton, Maine, some three hours north of Portland.

Maine has its themes, for sure: lobsters and blueberries, for toppers. Many references for, of, to, and about these products. The roadsides held mostly Queen Anne's lace and lupines. Here's a view of coastal bucolia somewhere along the way:


And another:

I took this photo on the Penobscot Narrows Bridge outside Bucksport:

Don't give up! A cloudy day can turn sunny on up the road a bit:

Finally, we get to the cabin (known as McGraw Cottage) about 7:30. After settling in and speaking to the owner, who was there to welcome us, we, being starved, drove back down the long rutty road (almost all roads in Maine are bad, that I saw) into nearby Ellsworth to the fabulous Lobster Pot.

Another view of the sunset through the trees, looking out from the deck of the cottage:

my rave review:kissing through the bars of a rhyme

Mr. Button and I went to a FANTASTIC concert last night: Mark Knopfler at Chastain Amphitheatre in Atlanta. Sometimes Chastain can suck as a venue, not because of the place itself but the tables down front and picnic-basket atmosphere tend to draw a crowd more interesting in socializing than listening to music. However, Mr. Knopfler appeared to have drawn some serious fans to his bosom, of which I was one, so the two hours he played made for one of the best concerts I'd seen in a long time.

A guy with an Alfred Hitchcock voice (if not body) opened the show by announcing that no videotaping of any sort would be allowed as it had become distracting to fans at the shows. I really love coming home from a concert and finding footage from it on youtube within the hour, personally! And I find loud conversations between boors during quieter parts of songs and drunks stumbling back and forth in front of me much more distracting than the taping. But after assuring the crowd that Security would be escorting offenders off the premises if they were caught, Al Hitch welcomed Knopfler and his band onto the stage.

Within seconds of the first notes, camphones and other recording devices sprung like glowing doves into the hands of many in the crowd, and Security was plucking the miscreants out of the crowd like pieces of lint on a jacket. I, of course, was all over this new development and intensely interested in Who Would Be Caught Next and What Would Happen to Them.

Which, of course, was REALLY distracting!

Mostly, the perps appeared to receive a stern scolding, but they did make one guy delete in front of a couple of security guys what he'd recorded. I thought the point was not to record, but here it was appearing to be not to HAVE. Plus Knopfler's web site prohibits only LARGE recorders, not those like small digital cameras and cell phones. I know Chastain doesn't prohibit (or didn't about three weeks ago) because I recorded two entire sounds at the Emmylou Harris concert. So really the recording ban had a rather Draconian feel to it.

Anyway, as a consequence, only one contraband video of one song (Sultans of Swing) has been posted from the Atlanta show so far. I really wanted to relive "Romeo and Juliet," and perhaps I'll be able to do so soon. But for now, this live version below recorded at Berkeley in 2006 has excellent video and audio, and appears to be pretty much the version he played for me.

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[okay, as happens about half the time, the vid doesn't want to post, so if it suddenly appears about 15 times duplicatedly below, please stay calm; there is no need for alarm.Panic only serves to exacerbate unpleasantry. Do not pass go, collect two hunnert dollar, bend, fold, mutilate, staple, spindle, crush, chew with your mouth full, litter, or pick at bumps.]

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Thanks for your patience, folks



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Coming up: Maine-iac Diary

HB, Little Blog

I was in Maine last week while my little blog here turned one year old on July 26th. I hope you'll join me in wishing it many happy returns.



And I have officially returned.





Brace yourselves, bitches.

Leftover Weekend

The weekend at the beach turned out to be incredibly hot. No, I don't mean just kinda warm. I'm talking about hovering near 100. Relentless. Stultifying. And then there's that old joke about the humidity, i.e. "It's not the heat in the South that bothers me; it's the stupidity.") So let's call it a really really stupid weekend. Back home in Athens saw even worse temps. Snap was home trying to keep my sad plants alive (which, incidentally, had been revived and were flourishing mightily due to several days of rain last week; alas, hopes were dashed with temperatures around 100 for a couple of days). Despite said heat, on Saturday Mr. Button and I rode around Jekyll Island a bit and stopped at a driftwood beach, seen below. Can you see the heat???

Here we have a pelican in flight.

He looks hot.
Is this a crane? I assumed as much, but when I looked him up to ascertain that my suspicions were correct, I was rendered more uncertain. The photo that seems most closely to ID him as a member of the crane family is that of a Siberian crane, a bird that does not appear to inhabit the barrier islands of south Georgia. In the photo, he looks more like a long-legged duck, but he did not in person,...er bird?


He takes off for the marsh nearby.......

.....which looks like this.

Here's the fishing pier near the driftwood beach. Gad. I'd hate to stand out there fishing for hours. But I appreciate those who do. And even more those who see fit to fry, saute, or broil the catches and sell them in nearby restaurants.

Nearby was an oyster bed from which folks were trolling. It looked SO NASTY!!!!! But I don't eat those dirty sluggy-looking pieces of filth, anyway, so I didn't take it personally.

After dinner on Saturday night, the sky looked as if it might threaten a storm and perhaps bring some cool, but 'twas a false alarm. Here's the sun peeking out, promising to be back in full regalia on the morrow, which he was.

I love the dappled look of sun through trees. This photo didn't capture the beauty very well.

Tomorrow Denis and I leave for the Maine coast! We've procured a cabin in Trenton, Maine. Where it's 71 right now! Mid-day July! Nearly 30 degrees cooler than here! Wooohoooo!

But then again, there's Tropical Storm Cristobel, due to hit Nova Scotia a few hours after we land.

Whatever.

BeachWeekend

high tide at Jekyll

HB, Mr. B!

Today is Mr. Button's birthday!

Below, you'll see him being honored with a party in an early birthday shot. Guess which one he is. The well-behaved little gentleman in the middle?

Nooo, guess again.

Is he the quietly mirthful young master to the right?

Nooo, guess again.

Why yes, that's right, he is the rather demonic little urchin on the left, the one wielding a celebratory sucker and grimacing at the camera like something feral. What do you want to bet that sucker ended up stuck in his hair, or ear, or on the seat of someone's pants?

Here we see the young Mr. Button on a family trip to the lake cabin. He seems to have a good haul. He'll know why I chose the Fish Theme. (wink wink)

And here he is, posing rather angelically, before he morphed into Impish Terror No. 5 (see top photo).

Hurrah for Cosmetics???

Ready, Aim, Fire

http://www.theonion.com/content/video/tiny_dog_has_been_barking_nonstop

Smoke-Break Nuptials

I pass by this Awful House every time I go to Atlanta!

Be sure you click on the slide show at the bottom.

I wish they'd provided a link for the public with information on procuring the tee shirts some members of the wedding party are wearing!

http://www.gwinnettdailypost.com/print.asp?SectionID=6&SubSectionID=84&ArticleID=16944

Note that the bride and groom have been together since they were both 14......They've been trying "for years" to get married ceptin she hadta work ever July fourth.

oh and ps this wedding took place near where another did not--this Waffle House is close to the home of the Runaway Bride.

RIDDLE

What can you sit on, sleep in, and brush your teeth with?

Com-plane-ing

British Airlines can kiss my ass.

I HATE the way they advertise a SUPER CHEAP flight and then add a million dollars on in "taxes and fees," rendering the flight SUPER EXPENSIVE. Who falls for this shit?

Boycott 'em, I say.

Tell folks you WOULD be sitting over tea and scones in London right this second, but your conscience just won't allow it.

more kvetchin': oh great now images won't show up!

UPDATE--Oh look! The picture is showing now. Can you see it? Stay tuned for further disappearances and disappointments in this world of impermanence.

Miss Ann Thrope and Her Daughter Visit the Fishies

This afternoon Snap and I went to Atlanta to finally visit the Georgia Aquarium, which we've been meaning to do since its opening. Due to ThisnThat, we didn't actually arrive until nearly 2, and I was starved. We got a couple of cold sandwiches, a cuke salad, and beverage at the restaurant inside for just $38!! What a DEAL. Snap opted for the tomato/basil/mozzarella sandwich, but I had to go with the tuna salad because of the simple and beautiful wrongness of the whole thing!

Here's Nico, the beluga whale who, as of this afternoon, was still alive.

The picture shows Nico at the bottom and his reflection in the surface of the water on top.

We saw fish...

...and more fish....

Here, a couple of yenta African penguins gossip in private about a recent scandal involving an otter.

Here's the sea otter under discussion, protesting his innocence, denying wrongdoing, working to clear his good name. When he sees that it's no good, he says under his breath, "Why I otter......"

(if my family reads this, they will groan SO loudly: one of my fave jokes, and I use it as often as is feasible. Maybe more so)

And say, did you know that the sea otter has the thickest coat of ANY mammal? Nearly a million hairs per square INCH!

Here we have jellyfish, or sea nettles.

They move up and down in slow minor scales.

Hey, where's the fire, guys?

In the arms of anemone.....

Ultimately, neither Snap nor I found the Atlanta aquarium nearly as impressive as the Shedd in Chicago, but we both enjoyed the underwater exerience.

What we did NOT enjoy: THE PEOPLE. It's not merely the crowd but the fact that honestly I think I was the only female on the premises who was not pushing a giant stroller. I suggested to Snap that we commandeer one, and she could scroonch in and set up a wail at the top of her lungs like the rest. I understand wanting to take your children to the Aquarium, sure. But if they're in a stroller, are they really able to comprehend or remember the experience? Of course not. Get a sitter and bring the ones old enough to walk through on their own.

And whole families who just PARK in front of the small viewing windows as if they're the only ones in the place. Talking among themselves, not even looking at the fish.

And rude children who push you down to get to a sight first and will crawl between your legs to get in front while their parents watch approvingly.

Ack. People!

!!!

Talk about a FUN WEB SITE! WOW! This should provide hours and hours of fascinating entertainment.
http://www.painintheenglish.com/index.php

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More English teacher fun follows.

After being reminded of one of my favorite New Yorker cartoons recently. I unsucessfully tried to purloin the image from the web. No go on that particular theft, but the cartoon is simple to describe. The caption reads JAMES JOYCE'S REFRIGERATOR with a drawing below of, yes, a refrigerator, on which is taped a to-do note with the following list of items:

1. Call Bank

2. Dry Cleaner

3. Forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscience of my race.

4. Call Mom.


I love that!

LATER--uh, do y'all notice something like molasses or peanut butter or maybe goopy rust oozing out the bottom of that fridge door?

LATER STILL--Alert Reader Denis has brought to my attention that a penguin sits atop this fridge. He posits that perhaps it was a masterfully planned seque into the aquarium post. How I wish to claim such organization as my own. But alas!

Moment of Silence

Let's all wish Olive well as she travels homeward to that Big Blog in the Sky!

World's Oldest Blogger Dies at 108
AP
Posted: 2008-07-14 12:22:19
SYDNEY, Australia (July 14) - A 108-year-old Australian woman who was promoted as the world's oldest blogger has died two weeks after making her last post about "singing a happy song," her great-grand son and her online forum said.

Olive Riley wrote 74 entries in her blogs, firstly www.allaboutolive.com.au and later http://worldsoldestblogger.blogspot.com. A friend introduced Riley to blogging early in 2007, and was hooked.

Riley "passed away peacefully on Saturday, July 12," a posting on her Web site said. No cause of death was given. "She will be mourned by thousands of Internet friends and hundreds of descendants and other relatives."

She entered a nursing home in Woy Woy, 50 miles north of Sydney, last month, from where she blogged about having a bad cough and feeling weak.

In her last entry, on June 26, Riley thanked supporters for "a whole swag of e-mails and comments from my Internet friends" and described meeting a new friend in the bed next to her.

Latter Day Sinnin'

Been avoiding the Mormons when they come to your door? Do you run inside and pull the shades and sit in the dark when you see them biking through your neighborhood? Well.! You might just want to reassess your position......

http://www.mormonsexposed.com/

More of that Old Time Religion

Do you ever get so sick of crazy you could puke? This group beats the Klan and Skinheads to HELL and back for hatred. Check out especially the "Sodomites Can Be Saved" link.

http://www.sonsofthundr.com/

Wow. I mean, like, WOW.

Check out these statistics:

"Two and eight-tenths percent (2.8%) of gays died violently. They were 116 times more apt to be murdered; 24 times more apt to commit suicide; and had a traffic-accident death-rate 18 times the rate of comparably-aged white males."

Gee, might those violent deaths have ANY connection to attitudes like the ones on this horrible web site? Suicide likewise.

And when is the last time you had a traffic accident and had your sexual orientation factor into ANY aspect of it whatsoever?

==================

Here's a strange coincidence. As you can see, the Hatemongers are hailing from Primrose, GA, a community with which I can thankfully say I am not familiar. So, looking for some irony there, rather than the flower itself being used for some ignoble connections, I looked up "primrose" to find that it was, indeed ironically, grown in "temperate" zones and is a member of the family Magnoliophyta. Fair enough. But what's really odd is that Little Miss Button called this morning to ask if I was familiar with the word "sakura," as one of her friends had a shirt on sporting that word. I was not but, true to form, got my google-fingers to do the walking, only to find that it was ALSO a flowering plant that claims membership in the division Magnoliophyta!

What are the chances?

So let's think about these pretty flowers, then, shall we, and put those hate-filled Baptists far from our hearts:

In Praise of Magnoliophyta:

hit it, george

This was my favorite song in high school when Bread sang it. BuT BG does it total justice!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKJSqAnyt4E

Love

A Few Yesterdays

The wind went out of my blogging sails for a few days. But looks like I'm back. Hi.

Flathead Lake, Montana, August 07

We had a rather quiet fourth, as is our wont. Not for everyone--some folks really bang it out.... But I sorta hate the fourth of July, frankly. Well, okay, that's not altogether true. I hate it vehemently passionately wholly totally. It's not for me. I just wait it out.

***

When I die, I want to come back as one of my cats. Which might not work? Belonging to someone dead? Who would feed me? But you get the idea.

Cheeba and Ruby, 7.4.08

Cats love to go undercover, and Cheeba is no small exception. Here he is, doing some detective work for a huge covert operation for which he freelances occasionally.

***

Saturday the fifth Mr. Button and I traveled Alabama-ward for my high school reunion. I took no pictures of people, really, because getting folks to pose was such an ordeal. There were professionals on site snapping candids and group photos to be mailed on a CD, so I'll have those. Impressions:

1. the food was heavy hors d'oeurvres, and HORRIBLE.

2. over the years, I've felt that I've changed a great deal. However, I'm basically the same person inside as I was in high school. oh, sure. I have more confidence, and don't worry over silly stuff like who likes me and what did that look mean, etc etc. But I basically interact with people in the same way, and I noticed that almost everyone else did as well. The people who were crazy and wild in high school still are, and the observers, like myself, still do.

3. with that said, all the stupid dynamics of high school are thankfully gone. Everyone interacts with everyone, which isn't really true in the set-in-stone society that is the hell of high school. I had conversations with people I'd never talked to (and do allow me to point out that the reunion included not just my class but the two classes below mine as well, so that explains some of it).

4. most people looked MUCH better than I expected. It's been a while, dawg, ya know? And WOW some of these people could REALLY still dance. I don't dance myself. Observer, see?

5. I hate chitchat so much that it's practically pathological. Where do you live now? What do you do? Kids? Sure, those things tell a bit about who we are. But in a noisy setting, with a band playing, etc., it's really difficult to go much into detail. I'm more of a one-on-one gal in a quiet setting. So what's the answer? Go up to someone and yell, "What makes you really happy? What's your darkest secret?" ell frickin oh ell

6. Be careful what you Google. You might just get what you ask for. To wit: The person with whom I spent the most time talking lives now in Connecticut. She talked about living in NYC and how much she misses it, etc etc. Later, I googled her and came up with nothing. But the reunion has a website and she'd filled out info, so I googled her husband. Here's what I found out:

Memberships:
American Red Cross Board of Trustees, Greater New York

Bush-Cheney '04

Committee for the Preservation of Capitalism

Council on Foreign Relations

George W. Bush for President

John McCain 2008

Romney for President

Straight Talk America

Bush Pioneer 2000

Bush Pioneer 2004 Ranger
President George W. Bush nominated [BlahdyBlahdy Blah Mr DooDah Republican] of Connecticut as a member of the Board of Directors of the Overseas Private Investment Corporation. The same name showed up on a list of stalwart Bush supporters. Mr. Republicanfuck even achieved vaunted Pioneer status in 2000 and Ranger level for 2004. How much business can XXX steer Credit Suisse First Boston's way in his new role?

(The later was from a web site criticizing people who donated tons of money to campaigns because the campaigns benefited him or her personally).

Oh dear. Committee for the Preservation of Capitalism? Are you KIDDING ME?

7. A CD was available that a photographer classmate had put together with photos from the past, most of which I'd never seen. I'm suspecting, as he was the photographer for the annuals (and a professional now) that he had some old negatives he'd kept from years past. As I was flipping through the 500+, I almost didn't recognize myself in this tenth-grade pose:

This was a skit we'd put together for some show, a parody of the old Gong Show, for anyone old enough to remember THAT. I came out and screeched out "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on violin. By the looks of the sign, my act was "____ ? Duke and Her Magic Fiddle." I find the violin a cruel instrument and cannot play it to this day, but for anyone who can, you will note that my positioning could not be more wrong. I'm just saying that THAT, at least, is deliberate. Oh, and the fabulous creature in the background (uh, yeah, I'm the one in overalls, though whose they are I don't recall as I didn't own a pair) is a woman (she was never a child, I don't think) named Molly. She was six feet tall by high school and always had this sangfroid about her that I couldn't begin to effect if I had to. Fortunately, she was incredibly sweet and down-to-earth.
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Late on Sunday a little storm brewed, and then gave off my favorite light in all the world: dark with the sun coming through.

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Home again, home again, jiggidy jig. My driveway.