MaineCourse

Maine Event

Dan Downing

It takes a long lever to move me off my long-post-empty-nest butt. But how enjoyable, once forces conspire to do so (yet how quickly inertia sets in again). But the bonds strengthened and the territory explored make a repeat of this weekend a must.

Picked up Jim at Alewife Thursday eve, enjoyed a Linda dinner of pork tenderloin, and retired early. We rose by 6 the next morning, and by 7, with fresh-brewed Starbucks in hand, were off to Stow Acres for an 8:05 tee time with Irma and Beth.

We relished the glorious late-Summer morning, encouraged each other, swung those clubs way too many times to bother counting, and let several groups play through our beginners’ slow pace. Then a brief stop at home to scarf some lunch, pack a few clothes, bag some food for Remo, and off to pick up Greg in Somerville.

By four we were headed north for the main event – father-and-sons -- and-dog --getaway at Boothbay. A first; spontaneously planned; the stage sparingly set for improvisation.

The three-plus hour ride began with catch-up talk on current events: Channel1’s dialup customers transitioning to Earthlink and Greg’s subsequent job-hunting; record quarterly sales at Jim’s Starbucks and his overcoming store politics to train managers for a new store; my Tufts project signaling a long-awaited upturn in the computer consulting business; movies in the “fuzzy reality” genre that we’d recently seen and had puzzled through to understand (Mulholland Drive, Memento, Swimming Pool).

Conversation gave way to Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits as we hit the Maine Turnpike, triggering reminiscence of songs and concerts long enjoyed, as interpersonals settled into a welcomed comfort zone. Greg’s Robin Williams Live found its way into the car stereo as we hit Falmouth, comedic commentary spiked with laughter filling our mobile private world.

Pulling into Hannaford Foods and letting Remo out not a moment too soon for a long pee and dump on a wooded trail at the edge of the parking lot, we provisioned for the weekend: Fresh shrimp, Bombay Sapphire, tonic water and limes, for cocktail hour; ice cream to cap our anticipated lobster dinners; bagels, OJ, fresh ground Starbucks, and half-n-half, for breakfast; two bottles of wine for the next evening.

Five minutes later, Remo was happy to be back on the ground as he jumped from the car one last time at the new-yet-familiar-smelling 148 Atlantic Avenue cottage.

We settled in and repaired to a round of G&Ts and shrimp on the front porch, with the tranquil bay at high tide in the distance. The conversation flowed into more personal territory as dusk settled and appetites rose.

From: “Why do gays universally love celebrities like Cher and Bette Midler?”

Answer: “Because they’re ‘right out there’ with their stuff -- and this speaks to gays’ more flamboyant personalities.

To: “ Greg, ever think about what your ideal job would be?”

Answer: “ Really can’t say…I guess I’d like to be doing something I’m good at…in a small homey atmosphere…you could say my two years at C1 have been my ideal job”.

And then: “Is there anything you feel passionate about?”

Answer: “Well I used to be about writing…but I stopped after concluding my stuff just wasn’t good enough”.

That subject would be pursued deeply on Sunday morning.

Dusk led to twilight which moved us to dinner. We walked down the hill to the Lobster Dock and traded cousin Marjie’s gift certificate for two lobsters and a crab roll, two beers and a coke. Greg has never liked lobster, but agreed to forsake fried chicken for a different shellfish. We cracked and chomped and washed down, conversation meandering in and out of inconsequential side-dish topics.

An uphill walk, and ice cream, followed, and for me, shortly thereafter, sleep.

Saturday was made for the outdoors. We clambered about the unequivocally-Maine, seaweed-laden rocks at Lobster Cove, where Remo took a couple of assisted dips into the high-tide water. We reminisced of a Summer long-passed, when the kids were little, on one of our many family mini-vacations, which Jim, at 21, had only recently become part of. Linda had brought a blow-up shark, and I taught Sarah, Greg, and Becca how to jump off the big rock with the shark tucked under their legs. And how Lucy, our water-loving lab, intent on “saving” the children, would swim out to them and unwittingly to scrape them up with her splashing front paws, with ensuing screeching and a round of band-aids and hugs to soothe all bruises.

Our second adventure was more strenuous: a boat trip to Squirrel Island, a two-hour hike along the 5 miles of paved and wooden walk ways and trails that encircle this exclusive but uniquely New England Summer community. We picnicked on the ocean-facing north side, a rocky ledge shielding the hot sun, not twenty feet from the crashing breakers, in direct view of the dozens of sailboats tacking for position for the afternoon regatta.

Shopping, naps, then JimK’s favorite Pinot Grigio with chips and dip on the same porch followed our return. More conversation about work: the engineering desk job options that JimK is looking at for his next Coast Guard assignment. St. Pete, Miami, Virginia beach, Boston, or Portsmouth, in that order of preference. The Jims have had enough of this ‘going to sea’ six weeks out of every ten. Stressful way to have a life together.

Appetites pulled us off the deck and back into the car (Remo unhappily staying home again), but before dinner, a ride out to Ocean Point. Jim shivered in the brisk breeze while we three scampered about the rocks as far out as we dared to where the Bermuda storm surge was spraying.

Heading back to Lobsterman’s Wharf in East Boothbay, we ended up making a couple of circles, finding that retracing our steps in the dark was trickier than it seemed. The restaurant was busy – a good sign. As we slid into the only empty table, Jim and I were already coaxing Greg into trying a new fish. He evidently felt adventurous and did -- broiled cod (he liked it!).

Between slurps of my lobster bisque and Jim’s morsels of Salmon, we discussed the challenges of moving to a new city. How lost you feel at first, not knowing where to go for the simplest things, like mailing a letter or getting a haircut. Having moved once, though, and succeeding at making new friends and establishing a new life, how empowering. You feel you could do it again, no prob. Ann Arbor to St. Pete…and now to…?

“One thing that would be hard, though, is re-adjusting to cold weather, if our next move is to Boston”, Jim mused. “But on the plus side, we’d be close to you guys”. “On the minus side, I doubt you could afford to buy a condo in Charlestown”.

Stuffed, we paid and drove back to the anticipated Scrabble board. I started with a seven letter word: S-T-E-A-M-E-R – that opened up the board, but dimmed Greg’s hopes of beating me. We talked, appropriately, about the meaning of words, about what happens when you use a “big word” in a context where few understand it, about the effect on the reader when used incorrectly. This – and the discussions about Mike’s web log -- may have sparked Greg’s The Power of Language.

Two games later, and another night of deliciously refreshing sleep, perking Starbucks roused us all, and a misty morning soon found us again on that porch, armed with juice, bagels, and Remo’s breakfast bowl.

“So exactly why did you stop writing, Greg?”

“I guess it was the criticism from people whose opinions I cared about. I couldn’t seem to get my meaning across without someone misunderstanding.”

Earlier conversation threads came together over the next two hours, as we considered:
- How good Greg is at writing, and how many of us wished he hadn’t stopped
- Thinking about who your audience is for a given piece
- How much of your stuff do you reveal – and to whom
- The art of writing concisely
- Being clear about what your message is.
And finally, taking a writing course, and talking to Mike about his. “He can give you good advice about writing”.

All this must’ve dislodged a boulder, as Greg ran inside, found some writing paper, and proceeded to write “The Rantmaster’s Rebirth”.

The ride home found us exploring our likes and dislikes in reading.

Greg’s: “Fantasy explores the eternal struggle of Good and Evil more starkly than in real life, and how heroes use their special powers to defend Good. It makes me think about how I would use special powers.”

Mine: “I prefer reality writings, how real people relate and deal with real issues; what I can learn about how to live my life better. How I can be a hero in perhaps unglamorous but plausible settings”.

Remo was clearly unhappy at being abandoned in the car while we three lunched at Sarah’s Café just over the bridge in Wiscasset. Enough fish for the boys; they had burgers. I stuck with chowder.

On our return, Remo showed his displeasure by refusing to move out of the passenger well, and snarling as Jim tried to help him out. We let him out a bit later on the first Rte 95 rest stop. He peed, then deciding it was okay to drop his attitude, resumed his co-pilot position in the back with Greg, paws perched on the front console, apologizing to Jim and me by kissing us, and drinking some water from the cup we’d brought him.

The ride home was dominated by light: light banter, light snoozing, and, thankfully, light traffic. Whew, enough heady subjects, already.

Greg asked to be dropped off rather than coming back to Lincoln. Jim and I arrived home to enjoy yet another lovingly-prepared meal, debrief with Linda, and sharing some people-food scraps with Remo. I again was off to bed early, sugar plums of father-sons weekend lulling me to sleep.

Let’s definitely do this again, I thought, after dropping Jim off at Logan the following noon. It was energizing, all the way around, I think.

Remo said so.

"Let’s definitely do this again, I thought, "
Amen, bro, where is chapter II?

Loved it. Felt like I made the trip with you. You captured Son # 2 with his first line of dialogue, "Really can't say... ." I've heard those three words many times. But I have one quibble. I might even follow this advice, and that is to explain in a little more detail who these people are. All your friends know, but there are literally hundreds of readers who don't. And that leads me to Chapter II.

What was it like for you, emotionally, traveling with your two grownup sons? I know about the games you play and conversations you have, but how about some private thoughts.

Posted by Michael.

What a fine story. Made me miss Boothbay with your reminders of dinner for the senses, the feel of the ocean in the cove, the taste of the lobster on the dock, the sight of the calm bay from the porch; I would only add the briny smell. And the sound, of course, was the important element, the conversation, close, positive, paternal. I could hear you speak.

Posted by lobsterlover.

MASSIVE dam-breaking outpouring! Really well told, loving attention to detail, conversation captured naturally. Glad there's this much of it.

I agree with Michael, more of what was going on for you, mentally and emotionally would ice the cake. But as my grandmother used to say about National Geographic, "I love to travel and let them show me the world." Thanks for taking us all to Boothbay!

Posted by transported.

Well, Dad, you didn't want to be embarassed by my calling you on the carpet for your memory, but you did miss detail. ;)

We didn't actually listen to Robin Williams on the way up to Maine. After Billy Joel, it was actually Lorenna McKennit. But it's an easy mistake, because one of the conversations we had was about the Robin Williams DVD I'd lent you, and that Jim had also watched. As I recall, the conversation was about the kind of humor that Williams used in his performance, and how it was a little off-putting to you.

I encourage anyone whose interest was piqued by my father's plugging of my new blog to come read. An essay is upcoming to explain further about my love of Star Trek, most recently...

Posted by Rantmaster.

Gosh, I know nobody from this blog, and I loved it. I think most of us can relate to a marvelous getaway with close friends, including in your case children as friends (how fun), a 7 letter scrabble word (I've done that only once...p-e-o-n-i-e-s...funny how those things stick in our minds) and of course the wine and lobster. Other than listening to Billy Joel (sorry) it all sounds quite perfect. I'm envious. And I love Remo. And Lucy too. More, more.

Posted by riveted.

Dear fans,

Fan Club Manager, Michael, has been urging me to respond.

To Michael: Emotions ran the gamut from 'anxious' ("how well willwe three do in close quarters for 3 days?"), to 'relaxed' (as family bonds managed to breach disparate worlds), to 'energized' (we contributed to each other, and had fun).

To Lobsterlover: Thanks for adding 'the briny smell' -- a most unifying sense of the place, being everywhere. And also for your noticing the 'sound' as the unifier among us three.

To Transported: For the 'literary kick' delivered by your own 'Flasback' piece.

To Rantmaster: Now you know why I called you twice to tap your near-perfect memory. But glad you recogized how my flawed one captured the spirit -- if not the letter -- of our weekend conversation.

To Riveted: Thanks for your generous and motivating comments. How about an entry on your own, especially now that we're getting to know your precocious son?

(Btw, You and I met in your shrinks office in Hahvad Square about 5 years ago, when you were entering text for Michael to help create the next iteration of my company's website).

Posted by Dan.

Dear Dan...I remember. For clarity's sake, we didn't meet in "my" shrink's office per se (!), it was where I worked, which was at a shrink clinic. That clinic is still there though at a much less desirable sight (the basement of what was Sage's). Fortunately, I left before being relegated to the basement. And I remember well working on the Mentora website. As for an entry of my own...see if you can't get the Rantmaster to post one of his own (loved his website) and then maybe I'll give it a go.

Posted by Riveted.

It was a dark and stormy night when the car reached Boothbay Hahbuh. A small light shown from Owah Lady of Peace onto the still waters creeping in on little cats feet when...

Posted by Gator.

Suddenly a lobstah scuttled across the road followed by a roll, butter dish and a pack of mussels and clams. I jammed on the brakes but it was too late, the car slud sideways into the Coop. I was knocked unconscious and woke up in the lobstah pond where I could hear ominous clicking noises. I opened my eyes and was horrified to see.....

Posted by Gator.

Gator, please continue with your story...I am in suspence awaiting what happens next!

Posted by Bemused.

Nice blog ! This is my blogs urls business for sale Direct url is http://search-business-for-sale.car-home-homeowner-health-insurance.com/san_diego_business_for_sale_427.html or business for sale Direct url is http://search-business-for-sale.business-for-you.org /charter_business_for_sale.html or business for sale Direct url is http://search-business-for-sale.business-for-you.org /software_business_for_sale.html or business for sale Direct url is http://search-business-for-sale.car-home-homeowner-health-insurance.com/las_vegas_business_for_sale_844.html or business for sale Direct url is http://search-business-for-sale.car-home-homeowner-health-insurance.com/ottawa_business_for_sale.html or business for sale Direct url is http://business-for-sale.business-for-you.org /business_for_sale_in_cornwall_645.html or business for sale Direct url is http://search-business-for-sale.car-home-homeowner-health-insurance.com/web_business_for_sale.html or business for sale Direct url is http://business-for-sale.business-for-you.org /business_for_sale_kansas_city_496.html or business for sale Direct url is http://business-for-sale.mortgage-quotes-online.org/business_for_sale_greece_809.html or business for sale Direct url is http://business-for-sale.business-for-you.org /business_for_sale_queensland_946.html or .Thanks.

Posted by business for sale.

Good Point. Anyways, this was where i met her. You can join for free as well www.redtricircle.com

Posted by click here.

Very interesting stuff written here in your blog! I enjoyed a lot reading the content that you've wrote. consolidate debt

Posted by consolidate debt.

Posted by Dan at September 28, 2003 04:20 PM