May Postings, 2013

Thursday, May 30, 2013

 "Did You Run Away From Home"

Two young boys, well-groomed and polite, showed up in the coffee shop this morning. They ordered breakfast sandwiches and took them over to the counter facing out toward the street to eat them. The older boy, I’d say, was probably in the 4^th grade, and his brother was about two years younger. 
 

Out came an I-Pad (the older), and an I-Pod (the younger) and a request for the Wi-Fi password. They munched their food and gave full attention to the tiny screens in front of them. 

We hardly ever see unaccompanied children in the coffee shop. “Did you run away from home?” was the first question I asked them when they turned around to leave.  “No”, the younger one replied, “we’re here until Tuesday.” It reminded me of the line many stand-up comedians use  – “I’m here all week” - to entice customers to return and spend more money. Their names were Oscar (older) and Wyn (younger).

A very polite conversation continued from there. Wyn did most of the talking, and when he was stumped for a reply, would turn to Oscar, and he would speak… almost like an attorney silently telling his client it was OK to open his mouth without incriminating himself. 
 

They were from King, NC, a suburb sixteen miles northwest of Winston-Salem. They were here visiting their grandparents, who live around the corner from the coffee shop. “We’re old enough to go outside on our own,” mentioned Wyn, in a proud, boastful voice. 

School got out last Friday, Wyn informed us, and then they came here to their grandparent's house. “When do you have to go back to school?” I asked. “In August,” Wyn told me with a mournful reply, “when it’s kinda hot.” I’m not sure if his gloomy look brought thoughts of a steamy, classroom, or he just didn’t like entertaining thoughts of schoolwork so soon after getting out.

They come to visit their grandparents in Searsport every other year. We explored the reasoning behind the “every other year” routine, but gained no insight. “Will you visit your other grandparents next year?” we inquired. “No”, Wyn said, “We’ll go visit them after we leave here. They live in Sunset Beach, (NC).” 

We did find out, however, that yesterday they went to The Forks… a small town in the western mountains of Maine... to go looking for moose. "What's happening today?" we asked. “Today we’re going to Acadia National Park,” Wyn replied. Oscar contradicted him and Wyn gave him “a look”, and Oscar decided not to press the point. It was easy to see who the “power broker” is in their relationship. 

Will they come back tomorrow? I certainly hope so. They were delightful to talk with, and after all, they “will be here until Tuesday.” Come to think of it, as the old Maine saying goes, “The good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise”… so will I.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

"Tenting In The Old Campground"

I’ve never tried to bring a pup tent through U.S. Customs, but I found out this weekend that it can be done… and quite easily, too.

A lovely young couple from Bordeaux, France, arrived in the coffee shop. They spoke hardly any English, but the shop’s co-owner, Karen Dumont, is fluent in French, so she spoke with them.. They are on a three-week vacation in the United States, and they are camping their way from Acadia National Park to the White Mountains of New Hampshire.

They flew to the U.S. with just their smiling faces and their backpacks stuffed with camping gear, including a pup tent. They rented a car and drove straight to Acadia National Park. They have no set itinerary, but spend each day as it comes, and they hope to make it to the White Mountains before their three weeks are up. Then they will return the rental car and fly back to France.

They were a bit disappointed they couldn’t get into the Acadia National Park campground, and had to camp nearby. You  need reservations to camp inside Acadia, and they didn’t have any. Campgrounds in Europe are not that way. Only a lack of camping space keeps you out of most European campgrounds.

Our campgrounds are also quite Spartan compared to what they are used to. In Europe, campgrounds are like little cities. Grocery stores, bakeries, even libraries, are known to be part of the campground experience. But, they didn’t come here to critique our camping accommodations, but to enjoy the scenery… and so far, they like what they see.

To me, spending all that time in just a PUP TENT, is amazing. I did a fair amount of tenting in my younger years, but my tents were large, expansive things… like a mini-cabin… not a small, slanted piece of canvas. They arrived on their third day in the U.S., and it had been our third consecutive day of rain. In my olden days, spending ONE RAINY DAY inside a tent… even a large tent… was excruciating… but they seemed none the worse for wear.

Ahh, I guess love really does make the world go round… and makes the ground inside a pup tent seem dry and comfy.

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

"The Wedding"

I love hanging out with young people. Their zest for adventure is infectious… but I’m getting ahead of myself.

May has not been a terrific month in Searsport – weather-wise. I always say that as long as it isn’t snowing the weather is fine with me, but days of below normal temperatures, blustery off-shore winds, and dreary clouds can get to you.

It was Saturday, May 18^th, and the day was starting like all the other days… chilly and dreary. We were playing cribbage at the coffee house when a group of young men came in. Being naturally shy (sic) I asked if they were from “around here?”…  “Houston, Texas,” they replied. “Well,” I said, “what brings you all the way to Searsport?” Instantly, three hands appeared and pointed to the fourth person, “He’s getting married today.”

The wedding was scheduled for 4:00 pm, at a place called French’s Point.  I had never heard of French’s Point, but I didn’t want to appear ignorant to these nice young men so I vowed to look it up later. It turns out it is a mansion in the next town over  – Stockton Springs – and is used for weddings and special events. It overlooks Penobscot Bay and the internet pictures made it appear quite nice.

We made jokes about the final hours of his bachelor-hood, newlywed stuff, and then switched to sports and other “guy” topics. When I left I wished he and his bride well, and hoped the weather would get better for their special day.

Around noon, I noticed a couple of friends heading into the coffee shop, so I followed them in to see how they were doing. When they asked, “what’s new”, I told them about meeting the young groom that morning. Instantly, I heard a voice from the table behind me say, “That’s MY wedding.” The bride, and four of her friends were in the coffee shop having lunch.

Well, since I now knew all about French’s Point, I was able to get all the details about the wedding straight from the horse’s mouth (just an expression – the bride was really quite lovely). She, too, was from Houston, and had ABSOLUTELY NO TIES TO MAINE. Amazing. She had wanted a destination wedding and picked out French’s Point simply from the web site, and several phone conversations with the manager.

The wedding guests were coming from Texas, California and Georgia and none of them had ever been to Maine. “Wow,” I said, “That’s a pretty big leap of faith to take for such a momentous occasion.” She looked me squarely in the eyes, paused for a brief moment, and then  said, “Well, maybe sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith and trust that everything will work out.”

She did confide in me that after she flew in on Friday afternoon, the first thing she did was do a “drive-by” of French’s Point, and in “real life” it looked as good as it did on the internet.

Later that day, around 4:00pm, I thought of her and her groom.

The day had turned out quite nicely for a wedding. It was the warmest day we’d had so far, there was NO breeze off the ocean, and the sun was shining brightly. Taking a “leap of faith” had really worked out well for her… and maybe there’s a lesson in that for all of us.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

"Fancy Meeting You Here"

This is a blog about the "goings-on" in the village of Searsport, Maine. It centers around the summertime activity at the Coastal Coffee Shop on West Maine Street.

We get to meet many interesting people as they travel through our little town, and this blog is an attempt to share some of their "interesting-ness" with you.

I hope you enjoy them. Here's the first one.

Whoever said "It's a small world" was right.

It happened two weeks ago on the 4th of May. A nice Saturday for Maine, but a tad chilly. Two middle-aged gents were enjoying their coffee and talking about the antique tools they had found at the tool shop in town. They seemed intent on talking "shop", so we let them chatter away and didn't disturb them.

In came a young couple, with "him" needing crutches to move around. Naturally we inquired how he came upon the crutches and he told us he had a nasty fall on a bike... the "non-motor" variety as opposed to the "Harley" type. They said they were coming to Maine to take a look at Acadia National Park in Bar Harbor before the "seasonal" folks started crowding-up the place.

"Where from?", we asked. "Chicago" they replied.

The "Tim the Tool Men" guys came alive. "So are we" they exclaimed. After a little chit-chat between them it turned out they live within a few blocks of each other.

WHO KNEW?

Of course, they each had to travel 1,153 miles to meet each other, but then, what else are small-town coffee shops for?... LOL