She's Maine, 11 months now, being part of the world, laughing at me as I flip-flop through resume and cover letter. Ha ha look at you, nothing to do. Ha ha ha look at me, sitting under bald eagle pathways and canoe sunset vistas. Hee Hee Hee, she says, I know, drinking Casco Bay Riptide and tasting an Atlantic breeze. It's the smile, I suppose, that makes her one of them, one of us, one of everyone. Maybe it's all the beers, though. 11 months almost gone already.
Being Maine is like being Bangladesh, or Caracas, or take your pick.
She told me once…ah, look at me, nostalgic already, already anticipating another night with Rico and the goat. “What shall we try tonight? Germany? Whales? Oregon?” She told me once…that’s okay, she’ll tell me again.
But look at her write. Inspired, for sure. Kicks my ass into gear, for sure. She’s Maine, now, but not the Maine they show on the Travel Channel. No, not the Maine in the history books. (We all know what the history books say.) No, this Maine is something different. Something I can’t describe, because the only Maine I know is channel 52, 11pm - Wonders of the Northeast.
No, this Maine is different. A new existence being created before our eyes. Is anyone watching?
