walking in a [lounge] wonderland

to all my friends, both near and far, new or old, in real life or digital, i hope you're having a wonderful holiday season and anxiously looking forward to an exciting new year!

previous cards:

2015

2014

2013

2012

2011

2010

2009

2008

2007

2006

a mainers christmas

twas the night before christmas, and all through downeast,
not a lobstah was stirring, all boiled for the feast;
the wool socks were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that l. l. bean gift cards soon would be there;

mainers were nestled at the snug and not their beds,
while visions of whoppie pies danced in their heads;
and mamma in her bean boots, and i in my flannel,
were drinking pints at the bar, watching the sports channel.

when outside door, i heard spreading sand,
and checked my phone for the parking ban.
cars were all covered by the new-fallen snow,
making it easy to spot the ones to needing to tow.
when, what to my frozen eyes should appear,
but a delivery truck and eight kegs of beer,

a grizzled old driver, only 'bout four feet high,
i knew in a moment it was the craft beer guy.
quicker than the patriots, the barrels they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"now, ALE! now, PALE! now, PILSNER and PORTER!
on, BELGIAN! on AMBER! on, LAMBIC and LAGER!
to the top of the draft, from the windows to the walls!
now drink away! drink away! drank away all!"

he was dressed like a brewer, from his hat to his socks,
and his clothes, how they smelled of barley and hops;
a bundle of growlers he had in the back,
along with hard to find beers and holiday six -packs.

the lagers -- how they twinkled!  the porters so merry!
the lambics tasted like roses, just a hint of cherry!
all the bottles were wrapped with a bright pretty bow,
and the froth from the head was as white as the snow;

there was a pipe in his mouth, he started to toke,
taking advantage of maine's latest vote;
he had a broad little face with an extra long beard,
combined with a trucker hat, his face disappeared.

of course he was chubby, on account of the carbs,
and nights spent at rosie's and ruski's and other maine bars;
a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
made me love this wicked good giver of liquid bread;

he spoke not a word, but went straight to his tasks,
he checked all the lines; and connected the casks,
then giving a chuckle with a hint of a snort,
he walked outta the bar and into old port;

he sprang to his truck, and gave the ladies a nod,
and away he drove like a shoal full of cod.
but I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
HAPPY CHRISTMAS YOU MAINERS, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

snap[chat] out of it

being away from your home for a long time is a strange feeling.  going back home is a strange feeling as well.

for the first time in nine months, i traveled back to kansas to celebrate thanksgiving with my family.  the minute i was in town, it felt like nothing had changed and this whole [portland] thing had been a dream.  making the rounds to my favorite spots, i was recognized and greeted by friends and people who knew me.  a feeling i hadn't had in a while. from bars and restaurants to shops, i constantly ran into wonderful people who had been a part of my life for a long time.  after being in a desert of anonymity for the past nine month, i was flooded with the feeling of being recognized.

i can't lie, it was a wonderful and warm feeling i missed.

i cherished every minute spent with family and friends. a perspective you only get after months out of eyesight from them.

days later i returned [home] to maine and slowly got back into my routine here. i found myself  looking back through my snapchat memories and the whole wichita trip now felt like its own dream.

and that's a thought i'll hold on to.  i'm lucky enough to be between two dream worlds.

here are a few of my snapchat memories, in their wonderfully raw quality.

 leaving the northeast

 airplane sketches

 

arriving in the midwest

 

wichita airport

 

 friday night crew

 

 friday night standard order

 

 board games

 an ace player

 kansas running

 pho sure

one of my favs

[so] goes hojo

before the days got shorter and summer officially ended i took a long trip to visit the second to last howards johnson's restaurant in its final days of operation.

my love for anything and everything dealing with roadside america is what led me to the decision to wake up early one saturday and drive two hours to pay homage to this diner deity. being from the mid-west, and born in the 80's, i missed the golden era of howards johnson's when there were thousands of restaurants across america and hence had never had the privilege to eat at one.  

i didn't go for the food, i went for the memory.  living in a state were everything is new to me, i wanted to part of its history.  over the course of my life i had visited nearly every place in wichita.  i could partake in conversations where people would ask if you remembered "that old place" or "this old restaurant" and i loved knowing those forgotten places.  secretly i went and ate at the howard john sons because i wanted to be able to say,  "yeah, i remember that place...such a shame it closed." now, some of you may say it was cheating to eat at a place five days before it closed after being opened since 1966, but the brief memories i made while there could have been made in any of those 50 previous years.

i ordered a burger and fries from kathe, a lady who had been working there since the day it opened.  she was sweet to me and made sure everything tasted alright.  she easily could have served me my food and not cared how it tasted since the whole place would be closed soon, but i appreciate the fact she probably treated me the same as any customer who had sat at that counter in the last 50 years. as i ate my burger and gazed at the mid-century time capsule i was in, the guy next to me started chatting.  as it would turn out, he had installed the equipment in the restaurant when it opened and had been a regular ever since.

as friendly as everyone was, there was a solemn feeling in the air.  it felt a lot like a funeral and in a way it was.  we were all there to pay our respects to a way of life quickly disappearing.  a way of life where your car was your freedom and the road was an adventure.  a way of life nestled in between the days where all meals were home cooked and picking up your dinner through a window. the era of family drives and vacations, and memories made under an iconic, roadside attracting, orange roof. walking around the restaurant you could feel the memories of thousands of families who had stopped here for a nice meal before heading on their way to the woods of northern maine.

as in any memorial service you remember the good times and to that i'd like to raise a cup of coffee and thank the bangor howard jouhnsons to a very memorable lunch, and helping me feel apart of maine history. 

[autumn] attire

it's a fact.

i look better in fall clothing.

i love shorts...i enjoy wearing them...i enjoy being comfortable in them when it's hot.

i don't however enjoy being seen in them. (i have weird legs)

that all changes in the fall however.  put me in some jeans, boots, a nice button up, and a light jacket, and you give me a chance to hide my "fat" a little better.  also, there's a good chance the temperature is cool enough that i wont be sweating like i just thought about jogging a quarter mile.

if i have to meet someone, for the first time, i'd prefer it be in the autumn months.  the way i look and dress in the fall is a way better first impression then i could make in shorts and flip flops.  you never want to have someones first impression of you to be,

"whoa, those are some weird legs"

This is why, no matter what the temperature is, as well as general professionalism, i've always worn jeans or slacks to a job interview. i'd much rather the interviewer see me sweat and curious if i had just run a marathon before our meeting, then burn into their brain a vision of my weird legs.

i feel like inland maine and i are very similar.  since moving here, the majority of my exploring has been on the coast.  i haven't traveled "into" maine much.  last sunday is decided to change that with a quick trip around sebago lake.  the trees were at peak foliage and the reflections off the lake were amazing.  i drove completely around the lake and spent two hours in awe.  i'm not sure i would have had the same feeling if i would have seen sebago lake for the first time this summer.

i might have noticed weird "coves" or something.