Who's Behind the Door?

In late 1996, I kept thinking about what my father would have been thinking about the last 7 days of his life.  It was all I could think about, so I finally had to put it to paper and let it free.  I know what he had basically done during those days and what he might have been feeling seemed to be floating in the atmosphere all around me.  You may wonder how I could really know the subliminal feelings that my father may have been experiencing during this time.  All I can say about that is that, when I read these words, I keep hitting spots that resonate like a guitar string struck that is connected between my core and running out millions of miles away to the other end of the universe.  This is my attempt to put it into those feelings into thoughts and ultimately, words.

Who's Behind the Door?

Monday

By Mike Jackson

      The day is humid.  The salt is in the air.  It has been there for sixteen years now.  I do not wonder for how long more it will be there.  Should I?

      The morning sun warns of it's forthcoming anger as I open to door to my old truck.  I turn the key.  The engine answers, just like always.

      Is there a shadow?  Somewhere in the great depths of my existence? Do I comprehend that this is the last Monday there will ever be?  My heart is so full of memories.  My dreams are nothing more than foolish recollections.  It might surprise anyone to learn of the simple things that I have dreamed of in recent days.  So long ago I lost the sunshine that could live alone inside of me.  Only those that I love more than anything else could carry me now.  No!  Love or no love, no one carries me!

      Am I insecure?  I have not allowed the time to consider this in this lifetime.  What is a lifetime? 

      Do I somehow see beyond the curtain and down the road?  There is a man waiting just down around the bend that I have always known.  I have laughed at him a thousand times, no, a million times.  Do I know that he is now waiting for me laughing, knowing I am coming down the path?  In a momentary flash I see him from the corner of my eye and I turn to see him gone!  Echoes of my soul play on like a symphony.  From somewhere without noticing, I collect all that I am and I place it next to the window that overlooks the edge of forever.

      I do not know why I feel this way except that it is Sandy's birthday.  It always leaves me unsettled.  Like an eclipse, there is a shadow I cannot deny.  The icy fingers of time burn my skin, my soul as each second passes on the clock that strangely, but all so familiarly makes that subtle growling noise on the wall.

      I just don't know...

                        I just don't know...   

                                          I just don't know...

Tuesday

By Mike Jackson

      Tuesday.  It is my Saturday.  I journey into the city, today.  Just like every time, I will drive there again.  The city so full of life.  Many stories can be told within it.  Many of these stories about me about Brooke, Mike, Amy, Ma, Dave, Sandy, Brian, Phyllis, Jeri, Charlie.  Today, I am alone.  I was alone last month and the month before that and for many more times than I care to think of.  Engine purrs.  Transmission growls.  Radio whistles.  Shadow lurks.

      Running down the long road the memories flood in.  I used to have ideas, now I have only yesterday.  I have waited so long. 

      STOP!  Why can I not shake this feeling of dread!?  I shake my head and loose myself in the social world that I am so engulfed in these days.  The radio is on, but behind the voices, I hear music.  It is a music that I have never heard.  I know what it is, but I just do not know what it is right now.

      I can hear the footsteps so so far away.  They are so soft yet have a power never seen by anyone.  The terror this power can bring cannot be comprehended.  I stand.  Firm.  Wind, tidal surges and all else are no match for my lack of fear.  I do not fear. 

      As the wind blows off the Gulf on this hot South Texas afternoon there was a whisper that chilled me.  I must have imagined it, I had to have imagined it.  The lack of sleep has brought me to a point of recession from the dimension of reality.  I am who I always was, but exhaustion has brought a stranger into my life.  If I could be, I'd be amazed at the bottom line our existence, but I am just too tired. 

      The things that make me who I am are packed in three packages that sit by the door.  I just don't know it yet. 

      Despite this twilight consciousness, I carry on like always.  I may be tired, but I'm still laughing.

Wednesday

By Mike Jackson

      No rest.  I do not sleep anymore.  Days off from work are days to be reminded of where I am.  Over the years I have been an artist in the "All-nighter".  Now, I have no choice.

      Defiantly, I look to my future.  My existence as I have molded it goes on.  There is tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.  I feel like I will always be.

      Dammit Tom, I just don't feel well.  I feel like I'm coming down with something.  I've felt like crap all day.

      The music slows, the lights go out on Wednesday.  I am at home.  It is dark.  Do I know that this is my last night home? 

      The piano, barely audible plays it's low key tune.  I begin to recognize it even though I've never heard it's melody before.

Thursday

By Mike Jackson

      The sun is out.  The sky is blue.  All is as it should be on a warm Port Aransas day.  My faithful old truck carries me to work.  But something is wrong.  I feel like I am drowning.

      I would never be a bother to anyone.  People see me but the reality is, I feel like I'm drowning and when they look into my eyes they know that something is amiss.  I really don't want to burden anyone, but MY GOD!  I'm DROWNING!!

      I reach out for sympathy in a most uncharacteristic effort.  My friend knows there is some sort of danger, but he cannot believe that I can be vulnerable.  Moments later the hammer drops like we all know it will someday.  I make eye contact with the old man down the road.

      I fall.  Let me just go away.  I can heal my wounds in seclusion.  But all of the time I wonder if when alone should I just fix it for good.  But no.  A very dear friend tells me the way to go.  I am vulnerable as people labor over and around me.  This is it.  I have kept all this pain hidden for so long and now, foreclosure. 

      In a hospital bed I contemplate the future.  I still believe there is a future, but as I stare at the ceiling, that old familiar music plays and somewhere deep inside I know I can never go home.

Friday

By Mike Jackson

      Hours seem like days.  The reality of the setting sinks in.  I am here.  I have now heard all they have to say.  I learned to fight when I was so young and I've known nothing but since those days.  Today however, the fight is over.  Knowing what I now know, I must draw all to a close, I know what must happen now.

      The crystal ship.....Oh!  How it used to just wash over me.  I know deep inside that although this is the end of the fight, there is one great battle yet to fight.  In my heart, I know my children will always be on my side.  This I am certain of just as they are allies among each other.  This is the result of the love I have given to them.

      My daughter looks to me with all of the conviction that I have ever had and tells me that I must continue to exist.  I explain to her, this pain can no longer go on.  This is the end.  I give all that I am, all that I was to my children.

      I keep my promise to Mike that I made years ago to tell him that I am dying.  I tell him in one sentence that all those things he never told me, I already know.

      I tell my other daughter that although our paths will part today, we will again join each other.  I tell her this because I know this is true as I know my own name.

      I receive their blessing and their support.  And if I awake somewhere else in the great after life, I can tell them that I truly know what love is, because just as I have shown it to my kids, they have certainly shown it to me.

Saturday

By Mike Jackson

      Days now seem like years.  I honestly don't know how long I've been here.  I receive word through the gasps for breath that Mike and Amy are coming.  I can see them once more.  I can wait a lifetime if I must.  Against the odds, against the wind, against the pain.  No matter what you do to me, I can wait for them.

      Dear Brooke.  You are my angel.  You stand by me, watching all around me as angry nothing growls at me from the edge of the fields.  You watch over the sky for the storms and protect and shelter my life.  Just like me, you cannot be taken down today.  We are an extraordinary people.  Your determination is remarkable.

      I wait.  Eternity passes.  I wait.  My entire life plays by.  I see my hometown.  I see the green hills behind the park.  The power lines cut through the trees of the mountain.  I see my Father go to work to never return.  I see my lust for automobiles all over again.  My friends.  Some of them dead for 25 years now are here.  I marry Sandy and a child is born.  I am yet wild.  I am unsettled.  I see it all and anger comes about.  WHY!?  But I know that I can do nothing to change this.  Another child is born and then another.  But trouble lurks and I am cast out alone.  Alone.  Just like I always feel.  Alone.  Alone yesterday.  Alone today.  Alone tomorrow.  Life in the north I live an easy life.  But my heart leads into dangerous territory and I cautiously step away.

      The system is rigid and I embark on a journey to take me far away.  In the gulf stream I take refuge, finding the finest place I have ever known.  Yet I am unsettled.  I am wild.  No one I love is here until one day Mike appears.  My world changes.  I am really no longer alone.  Together we build the best relationship that two friends could ever have.  Brooke joins us too.  We are a family.  I feel more alive now than ever before!  For some time we are a solid family, very certain, very sure.  Amy come to visit and still yet more family members.  I haven't felt so good in years.  But slowly things changed.  Mike answered the call to his wanderlust and Brooke got married.  Alone again, just like I always knew I would be.

      Time passed, days seemed like years.  The pain crept up during these years.  No one has known how bad it has been.  Aging sucks.  And voices call at me over and over again.  Someone stands holding the door for me, but Brooke's voice tells me Mike and Amy are coming.  I am not listening to the one holding the door, he's just going to have to wait for Joe Jackson.  He says I have to go, it is time.  But I tell him as I always have told so many, "I don't have to do anything."

Sunday

By Mike Jackson

      How much longer will I be here?  I have no longer a concept of time.  My perception of everything has changed.  Time ticks away but so much slower now.  I drift out of reality because I am tired of laboring to survive.

      "Joe!  Wake up Joe!  Your kids are here to see you."  I know I heard it.  In my mind, all is clear but I cannot outwardly communicate.  It is so frustrating.  I reach deep within and draw strength from where there appeared to be none.  I greet Mike and Amy.  I am so happy that they are here.  I know that there is nothing compared to being with people who love you.  I at this moment have the clearest understanding of priorities in life.  It is a stark realization of how wrong I have been, how wrong the world has been!

      In one last battle my children finish the fight for me and show me that I no longer need to fight, that I can certainly trust them to carry me away.  I say good-bye the best that I can to Michael, Brooke and Amy.  You are the finest people I have ever known.  You have made being a father an absolute honor.  I will always love you.Thank you for understanding. 

                                    Love Dad

First Trip to Phippsburg Maine August 2009

First trip to Meadowbrook. Liam was 6  and Noah was 3. I used to journal all of our trips and now I am so glad that I did.

August 17, 2009,  we rolled out of Ascutney around 3PM finally.  It was a Monday, but we were finally on vacation!  Just as we got onto North St in Claremont, the oil light came on  the van.  Great!  I pulled over and checked the level.  Full.  Seems to be a low RPM/low oil pressure problem,  I decided that this was not going to interrupt our vacation.  Too many things were threatening to prevent this.
We made a usual stop at the Mc Donald’s in Warner at the drive thru.  They were offering Lego cars which for the first time in a long time were actually a useful and not cheap pathetic toy substitute that is guaranteed to break about 2 miles up the road resulting in lengthy periods of crying.  When we crossed into Maine impatience was running high.  We suggested that the kids play “Chopped.”  This is a homemade game that we created that is closely modeled after the TV show Chopped on the Food Network, in which 4 chefs compete by creating a delicious appetizer, main course and desert, by utilizing all of the mystery ingredients in the basket provided.  The game begins with the person whose turn it is.  That person says, “Chef!  Open your baskets!”  Then that person lists 3 or 4 ingredients that will be used in the recipe.  Then we tell everyone what we will make with the mystery ingredients and how it will be presented.  Sometimes we get silly and use items that cannot possibly work together, such as, “Sardines, Chunky Peanut Butter, and Corn on the Cob”.  This pacified them for a while and we tried very hard to keep the flow of travel up so that we could set up in the daylight.  This effort was derailed when Liam decided that he HAD to go pee in Brunswick Maine.
We arrived in Phippsburg, ME right at dark.  It is our trademark to absolutely NEVER to set up when it is still light out.  We got our site at Meadowbrook Campground.  It always seems that whenever it is a site in the woods, we always seem a bit disappointed at first.  I started to situate the camper, Donna and the boys were on the picnic table out of the way while I did this.  I noticed out of the corner of my eye Noah fell off the table in between the bench and table.  It seemed like a nasty fall.  He split his lip open, poor little guy!  Donna took the van with the boys and went down to the office to get some ice for Noah’s lip.
I set up in the dark and found it to be very easy.  By the time Donna and the boys returned, Noah was already doing better and the camper was set up and functional.  Usually when we first arrive Donna takes the boys to see the playground and other amenities.  They set out and I continued working.  I decided to get a fire going and start a charcoal grill for some ribs.  We had not eaten since Warner Mc Donald’s.
We enjoyed the fire and the ribs and turned in for the night.  It was midnight when we finally went to bed.  Pretty typical for the Jacksons first night anywhere.

Tuesday August 18, 2009
Morning coffee in the stainless Coleman pot, thank you Tabby.  A half a dozen trips to the bathrooms too!  I bought the Wi-Fi for a few days only to realize that our bank account was overdrawn!  This makes the 2nd year in a row in which we spent the majority of our vacation with a negative balance.  Grrrrrrr!
The neighbor woman walked over and introduced herself as Willow and her 7 year old son as Kazden.  She said how nice it was to have children next door that were the same age and that unfortunately they were leaving the next day.  She and Kaz were extremely nice.  They came from Washington, CT.  Her Husband Rob and their 2 girls Sagelee and Emily were soon back at the site.  The whole family was warm and friendly.  It was a joy to have such nice neighbors.  Rob and I displayed similar ideas and ambitions which was comforting and amusing.  When the wives and kids returned from the pool and the playground Rob and I had talked intensely for over an hour.  He was telling me about how they used to have a Sienna Van.  The camper was pushing it to the limit.  So they went out and bought a full size SUV, which I believe that in this economy they are giving away at the grocery store when you purchase more than $100.00 worth of groceries.   Now they pull the camper and all the bikes easily and actually get better gas mileage because the vehicle is not straining.  While I was talking with Rob, a couple of people from the campground drove up on a golf cart and asked which one was Mr. Jackson.  I told them that I was and they mentioned that for the 8 dollar internet fee that I purchased my debit card was still declining.  Nice.  They were nice enough about it, but, I thought that with Rob standing only a few feet away they could have really put the icing on the cake by handing me a tube of preparation H, Bottle of Geritol and a package of Depends.
When both families were together my conversation with Rob continued.  He mentioned that he and Willow actually sleep on opposite bunks in the pop-up with their kids since it is just a tent that they are sleeping in and someone could undo the bottom and slip a sleeping child away.  We were amazed and impressed.  We do this too.  We proudly admitted this to our friends.  These parents really watched their kids, it was refreshing.
We found that we were lacking some things, so when Donna took the boys to the pool, I went to find a Hannaford that I could get a few things and write a check for OVER.  I found one down in Brunswick.
When I returned, we visited with the Brenner’s some more when I realized that Rob also makes his own fire starters too!  It gets stranger all the time.  Much to Donna’s dismay and prediction, my one moment trip to Rob’s site next door, turned into about 35 minutes.  I had to ask him about the fire starters.  He made his with dryer lint and old candle wax.  Since dryer lint is the most flammable substance on earth they could burst into flames by merely looking at them too hard.  I made mine with wood shavings and paraffin wax.  I like the lint idea, this puts to use something that up till now serves no useful purpose.
Then we went to Popham Beach and the kids had a great time.  Asa did very well and kept fetching a stick in the water.  He was very well behaved except for all the terrible pooping!  I grabbed a doggie bag at the beginning of the trail so that in case Asa pooped, I could pick it up.  We are in favor of this.  It is responsible.  What we did not realize was that we actually needed a roll of these things and a gold sifting pan too and a set of elbow length rubber gloves and possibly some incendiary devices for a diversion.  He went like three times on the ground and 3 times in the ocean.  I was carrying a Maxwell house coffee container that I had no choice to use to collect this festival of poop!
We got back and Noah was out, Liam hung in there in anticipation of seeing his friends.  We ate streak tips and scallions, and then Liam and I visited with the neighbors.  We sat around the campfire talking about Indian gardening techniques, wine tasting, Beatle records and many other things.  It was a good night.  In bed shortly after 11:00

Wednesday August 19, 2009
Another very beautiful summer day here in Maine.  We knew that this was the day that we had to watch the Brenner’s leave.  It would seem empty at our site after that.  We decided to not go anywhere until they were gone so that Liam and Noah could enjoy playing with Kazden, Emily and Sagelee as much as possible before they left.
Rob and I exchanged more research on state parks that we had qualified info on.  Our families said good-bye and I watched as Liam stood in the middle of their site and took it in that they were gone.  The Brenner’s went by on the lower road on their way out of the campground and Liam and Noah stood on their former site and waved as they disappeared from sight.  I watched Liam as he walked around their empty site, his sadness was so expressive that I had a lump in my throat just watching him.
We all went to the pool for a few hours and the boys played like crazy.  We got out of the pool with Liam screaming and crying half way to the site. We made dinner, grilled chicken and corn on the cob.  This was very good.  Donna called it the best meal of the vacation so far.  She was right.  This was some chicken that we boiled in a stock pot the week before.  We added homemade bib sauce and apple cider vinegar and brown sugar and salt in the water.  Then when we cooked it, I added apple juice and ginger ale to hickory bbq sauce.  I took a shower then we headed into Bath.  The boys were very impressed with the cranes and the cut away view inside of the ships that were being built or un-built.  You never know in this economy.  I cannot imagine anything being built at this time in history.
I went to Shaws, since this was nearby to get a couple of things such as the much needed tongs.  Up to this point I had made a small pair of tongs out of 2 lost tent stakes and I also carved a set of chopsticks out of pine sticks to work as tongs.  Unfortunately I also wanted some cash back for ice cream.  But since My Shaws was in Vermont, I was only able to write an exact amount check.  So with tears in our eyes we went to the Mc Donald’s drive thru for dollar menu treats.  Noah missed out on this because when I got out of the store he was sound asleep.
When we got back, we decided to watch Race to Witch Mountain.  It was a nice calm night.  Liam and I walked to the Bathrooms around 11 and came back and went to sleep.  I lay awake for a little bit of time.  When I was young there were 2 Witch Mountain movies that has just as much action as algea growing in slow motion. Today you would actually need prozac IV drip and 3 certified mental health specialists present so as not to harm yourself during watching  those movies.  But the names were nicer, like "Escape to Witch Mountain"  "Return from from Witch Mountain. The most boring movies ever but when your a kid in the 70 s and you love Kim Richards and don't know that someday she'll be on " Real Housewives of Some Town I Don't Care About".   But now in the new millenium, it is RACE!!!!  Like racing into the sun or a firey volcano.  "There is BAD stuff out there and we are RACING HEADFIRST into it!!!"  "We have a guy named the ROCK and we will use him if we have to!"  I wonder if in 30 years the title will be even more edgy like; "Vaporize Witch Mountain with Stolen Former Soviet Nuclear Missiles and Laugh while Eating HAPPY MEALS".

Thursday August 20, 2009
We awoke to still yet another beautiful sunny day!  They just keep on coming.  This is really a first.  The boys found the 2 boys that they met at the end of day yesterday.  I did not mention these boys, because in comparison to the Brenner's, there was nothing to tell.  These 2 boys were camping in a popup down below us and were never around, obviously site seeing etc by day.  One was 9 and acted 6 or 7 and the other was 6 and acted 3 or 4.  The contrast to Liam and Noah was amazing.  One of the greatest irritants was the younger one was making this disgusting noise that one does just before one spits.  He would not stop that ridiculous noise!  I was happy to see them finally leave.
Liam, Noah and I took Asa for a walk and then we went to the playground.  I noticed that the seasonal camper right next to the playground had an F250 parked on the site, with Florida Plates on it.  There was also a generous slide in camper on the site on the lift stilts.  Reading between the lines, these people must have a camper seasonal in Florida too and use the F250 with the slide in for the migration.  I kind of envied them because in the back of my mind, winter was silently stalking.
We then headed down to Popham Beach.  It took a while to get a parking space, but once we did we were all set.  I took the boys into the fort, they were very excited.  This simple fort to them had all the excitement as a tour of the Kennedy Space Center to them.  I love stuff like that with them.  They had the same reaction to seeing the cranes over Bath.  Liam conveys his excitement with things with very animated descriptions of what he sees.  Noah has this absolutely adorable voice that he shouts in utter excitement.  There is something in that little voice that has this irresistible tone that is not unlike one that Donna uses when she tells you about something that someone else said.  I don’t know how to describe it, but I suspect she used it to tell Brooke and Amy about how I said I missed them the day they left our house during Brooke’s last visit here.  I know this because a few days later, we were at a picnic at my Aunt Diane and Uncle Tom’s house and suddenly both Brooke and Amy walked up to me on the porch, took Noah from my arms and kissed me on the cheek and said they loved me.  There is only one force in the universe that has that power.  It is that special voice that Donna has when she repeats what someone says and makes it sound even better and more endearing that it was. Yes, I digress, but that is how Liam and Noah regarded the Fort.
We found Donna just barely on the beach.  We settled there while the boys played in the sand.  Donna walked up on the rocks and Liam followed.  So began the great Crab Hunt.  Liam and Noah began to catch crabs and put them in Liam’s sand pail.
After much coaxing we got the boys to forget about the crabs for now and walk up the beach.  The tide was going out and it got better and better by the moment.  Up at the point there was a nice sand bar and people were walking out to the island where there was a house up on a hill.  At first we were worried about walking out there because the water was thigh deep going out.  But as time passed definite sand bridge showed itself and it was clear that the tide was still very much headed out.  The boys had such a great time.  They picked up a couple million shells and they also wrapped long strands of seaweed and wearing them all over them.
We went back to the rocks and set the crabs free.  One died in the bucket unfortunately.  We got back in the van and headed back.  Asa was in the camper at Meadowbrook and we realized that this was the longest we had ever left him in the camper.   He was fine of course.  Shaded area, windows open and fans on.
We headed up some left over’s and made ribs and pork tenderloin.  The tenderloin did not cook well enough so I put it on again.  It was still not done, so I put it on again.  Liam, Noah and I walked around at dusk to find marshmallow sticks.  We came back with some.  Donna asked me whatever happened to the tenderloin.  There it sat, low and slow on the smoker.  I took it off and put it in the fridge.
We sat by the fire making smores.  The boys loved it.  Liam made one for Mommy too.  Then we all took a walk down to the bathrooms.  When we got back we put Mr. Troop Mom in on the laptop and watched.  Noah fell right to sleep.  Liam will always stay up late, fighting sleep every moment, like me when I was his age.
At 11 Liam and I walked to the bathrooms again.  I love the one on one conversation that come at times like these.  To sleep we went till 4 AM when Noah, who never wets the bed, wet the bed.

Friday August 21, 2009
It sort of began at 4 AM, when Noah wet the bed.  I could not get back to sleep right away.  I had checked the weather on the net to make sure that it was ok to keep the window open.  I drifted off here and there with strange dreams of moving into broke down houses, walking on the edge of steep bridges crept in.  In all, they seemed to be a magnification of the uncertainty of my precarious employment situation that has shadowed this vacation.
We got up and had coffee.  Noah and I walked down to where Donna and Liam said that there was a dock and a pond.  We ate breakfast and then headed down to the General Store down on Route 209.  I could write pages about this place.  I believe that even nuclear destruction would leave this place unchanged, except that there may be a small section dedicated to radiation suits and ultra sunshades.
With a fresh bag of ice for drinks we went down to Popham Beach.  Unlike yesterday, there were at least 6 places to park because of the fog.  You could not see 10 feet in front of you and the tide was high.  All of these factors make the beach not as attractive to the general population.  It was still very cool.  The boys loved it and as Donna had pointed out, we have never seen Noah run so much as he has on the beach.  We were very careful to keep the boys up from the water because at high tide there were many spots where it drops off fast.
We walked all the way down to the point and the waves were coming in from 2 directions at once.  This was interesting but scary with the boys so we moved on further north.  We found a spot on the beach for them to play.  First they found a disassembled Lobster that they reconstructed like a crashed airliner.  I thought it was pretty inventive.  They played in the sand for a while longer and then we began to walk back.  The sun appeared to be peaking through the thick mist.
We headed back up 209 and went to a small seafood shack to buy the makings for dinner.  Mussels and Clams is what we were thinking.  They did not take ATM cards so we went up to the General Store to access the ATM.  While I was there I wanted to get Liam and Noah some hot dogs.  The steamer was not on so I walked further down into the lower additions of the store.  It was a strange set up.  First you came into the store and walked around the register island.  Then you walk down some stairs and you are in the bait and tackle section.  Then you walk further and you are in the coffee and pizza on a warmer section.  Then you walk further and you are in the deli-Kitchen area.  Then further and you are in the wine and whole sale beverage section.  And finally you open the glass door that warns you that there are cameras always on and you are in the state liquor store section.
Across from the very dirty deli kitchen, there was a wood screen door with hardware cloth over it and a very large metal stand up fan from the 1950’s blowing air at the kitchen at approximately the same velocity that it takes to get a small commuter plane off the ground.  Funny thing is that as I walked in front of the fan and felt the air on the edge of the kitchen, I imagined that it was still not enough.
The girl between a counter of clutter and a pizza over made to order 4 hot dogs for us.  It took her forever and watching her with the knife, I began to wonder if she had ever seen a knife before this moment in her life.  She was very nice and even toasted the buns in the pizza oven.  As hot dogs go, these were exceptional.
As I stood there for what seemed like 40 minutes.  About 40 different people came and went.  Most of the men in shirts so dirty you would think they entered through the chimney.  This did not seem to faze the employees of the store and they were definitely on first name basis with all of them.  It was actually easy to see who was local and who was not by the level of cleanness of the people.  Obviously, those men, in the middle of their work day, were in the fishing trade.  I sort of imagined that those locals would look at the tourists with some sort of notice that I could discern.  But I saw nothing.  Obviously, these days they know that these passers through are NEEDED to make the businesses work.  They were cordial, maybe just one click above one driving around a 2 by 4 piece of lumber that falls out onto the roadway.
When I returned to the van, my wife had remarried thinking that she would never see me again and Liam and Noah had children of their own.  Just kidding.  It certainly was the longest I had ever waited for 4 hot dogs.
We went to the campground that was by now buzzing with Friday afternoon business.  We had new neighbors on our right and new just below us.  The Brenner’s site remained empty.  Good I thought. No one could live up to that.
Our neighbors on the right were 3 people from Quebec 2 young girls and 1 man and a mid size dog named Paco.  They seemed very nice.  Down below our neighbors had a couple of young boys that were evidently allowed to climb that HUGE pine tree out back without any supervision.  As a bonus they were also permitted to climb on top of their high conversion van and stomp around on top of the fiberglass roof. Great!
We put the boys into the van as a possible storm threatened.  We went to Shaws in Bath.  Noah and I went to get our seafood and Donna and Liam went to the Good Will.  When we returned we put our laundry in the washers and went back k to the site to cook dinner.  Thunder rumbled everywhere, but it never rained.  Our dinner was exquisite!  The mussels were sweet in the garlic onion and wine sauce.  Dipping them in butter was just too good for words.  The clams were great, but the best was mussels.  Corn on the cob to top it off.  All good. All awesome.
I cleaned up while Donna went down for a shower with Liam.  She was very mad at him when they returned because he had taken off and was scaring some older boys.
We settled in with the Pink Panther 2 movie.  Both boys fell asleep quickly thoroughly tired from the day’s activity.

Saturday August 22, 2009
Out of bed and coffee started, no one else was up.  I took Asa for a quick walk and so far, the sun is shining and the day is beautiful.  It has not rained at all this vacation.  This must be a record for us!  We decided that we would get the boys up and Donna would take them to the pool so that I could break the camper down.  When everything was complete, I walked down to the pool.  There was a rec hall with a small restaurant in which Liam and Noah were having personal size pizzas.  I stayed with the boys while Donna went to the showers.  It sure was hot inside that rec hall!
Just after check out time we left Phippsburg Maine headed for Kittery to the outlet stores and then home.  While this was shorter a mid summer vacation than what we wanted or are used to, it was certainly a sweet one.  Last year, at Grand Isle State Park in Northern Vermont we were rained on many times and had to move the camper 4 times!  I liked not having to move so many times.  I love that our boys get to experience so many new places and yet they almost have a routine that they know about what we do and how we do things when we camp.
While Noah and I sat in the van in Kittery while Donna and Liam were in the store I asked Noah what he liked most about his vacation, he told me that he liked the swimming the best.

Staring Down the Barrel of Another Winter

September happened.  I am another year older, a spring and summer have passed, the brilliant bright green leaves that were so new on the trees only seemingly seconds ago have hardened to a callous veteran status and with one free fall of the mercury, will yeild to color too spectacular to imitate. What do I have to show? Not as much as I would like. Back in May on a rainy Saturday, Donna, the boys and I crossed the Pemigawasett River in the White Mountains. The feeling was amazing. It felt like we were really doing this. This was only the beginning and here we were now, off to a good start.

Mt. Flume and Liberty was just too much for us and we could have had a better hike had we done better research. I. We  turned around when we realized that we would be walking for hours after dark, on steep slippery ridges in wind driven rain. We told the boys it was “Cheeseburger time” a famous saying of our YouTube friend Shawn a.k.a. Sintax77 when he finishes a hike. We told them that the first good (by which we mean not Mc Donald’s) burger place we find we are eating at. It was fun, but sad too. We so wanted to sleep in those hammocks that we almost hiked all the way up Flume with.   When we were back down on the trail alongside the river, we noticed a couple of hikers walking around gathering firewood. What this means is, out of sight the required amount away from the trail, there were people camping in the woods just like we wanted to. But, when you raced down a mountain in anticipation of a big hearty cheeseburger that no longer seems like an option. So we went and had our burgers. 

 It was memorial day weekend. Anyone who is been in the White Mountains knows that on holiday weekends nothing is cheap, nothing is available. We called a couple of hotels but they had jacked up their rates four hundred percent of course which made no sense. So late, late at night, we drove all the way back home. On the way home, extremely hard rains pressure washed us.  When we arrived home we put on the television, YouTube, and watched other people successfully do the hike that we just trying to do. It was clear to us, had we continued, we would’ve been in a world of trouble. 

The Long Trail

We still pressed on.  So we decided to try the Long Trail.  If you don’t know what the long trail is, it is a trail that was established around the beginning of the 20th century. It is the trail that inspired the Appalachian Trail. It runs 272 miles from the Massachusetts state line and ends at the Canadian border. 

 The hike we planned seem pretty simple. We would start from the trail head on route 103 in Wallingford. We would hike out past the Minerva Hinchey shelter, summit Bear Mountain, cross route 140 and end for the day at the Greenwall Shelter. This was about 9 miles of hiking with two significant climbs (for us anyway).

One of our biggest failures as a family is not being prepared for these hikes.  As a result of this we ended up leaving the house way too late that day. We knew for sure we would not get as far as we originally intended. However, it was a beautiful 74° day. We made it to Minerva Hinchey As the sun was setting. We got to talk with some through hikers, some flip-flop hikers, long trail hikers. Just as we arrived 15 other people were arriving at the same time. We decided that it was pretty urgent now that we find places to hang our hammocks.

Liam Ended up using a privy that was in the woods all by itself. And at 2:15 in the morning an animal was scraping and clawing up that privy trying to get whatever smelled in there.  It sounded huge to us, but likely was porcupines trying to get it. We will not know because we did not wish to shine a light down there just in case it was actually a bear because we did hear some noises of beers too. In fact, the nighttime noises were so intense it was like Mutual of Omaha‘s Wild Kingdom out there.

Here Comes Green River

My wonderful niece Melissa goes through a great deal of work and problem solving each year to give our family a truly unique outing. There are not many families that will ever experience something like this. So we got ready.  Opportunity always seems to knock in the form of investment, by which I mean 50% money and 725% ingenuity and hard work. This year it was in the form of a rowboat that was for sale for $100 on Maple Avenue in Claremont. The rowboat fit easily in the back of the truck could carry lots of cargo and people and would be a great thing to have at Green River. Besides how hard could it be to fix a rowboat?

We got to work. Patching and sealing and taking apart and scraping and painting. I also decided at the same time it was time to resurrect the old truck cap  that we had, so we started scraping and painting and sealing that as well. Then I realized that the oars that came with the boat we’re not what I would consider to be worthy and started to try to find those too. What I did not realize it was as I was working hard on this boat my YouTube friends the Crawford family were hiking up through Vermont in the hottest summer in a while and on Fourth of July a Wednesday that I had off, they were over in Clarendon gorge dipping into the cool freshwater. They crossed Route 103 and hiked up the next mountain and spent the night with Peewee another friend of ours and had nothing to eat except Ramen noodles that night. 

 Since these hikers had started last winter down in Georgia it was always my intention to meet with them when they got into the Clarendon area to feed them and to congratulate them on such a wonderful job well done. And I missed it. 

Green River started out rough. There was three hours of actual rowboat paddling which left my hands full of blisters, a trip to the emergency room in Morrisville with Noah who got a fish hook stuck in his hand and he wasn’t even fishing. Missing out on a great first meal and of course having to set up our hammocks  in the dark.  Thankfully, the rest of the weekend was wonderful. 

We're on the Road to Nowhere....Haa!

My friends, family and co-workers alike have asked me for years when I would or if I would open a restaurant.  I have had very good advice from people close to me who owned restaurants.  The bottom line is, you become a restaurant owner because you love to cook.  You love the ideas, creativity, the execution and finally the reward of diners pleased with what they paid for.  I got that.  I can do that.  Much better than many. I mean no arrogance here, I just know.  But the issue is, a restaurant is a business, it has employees and it needs them to make it work.  Human Resource attention is needed, an accountant is needed.  No fledgling restaurant owner can just hire people to do those things, they must do it themselves.  So while you are handling those administrative "departments" someone else is doing the cooking that YOU thought you would be doing.  Do they share your dream and vision for what should be on each plate.  I really know in my case, absolutely not.  So you get it, restaurants are not in the plan.

Food trucks are a much better way to go, but do require an up front investment.  So after going back and forth with some folks at the City of Claremont NH, I became a vendor one Saturday in July, cooking and selling Southwest Egg Rolls.

The reception from customers was excellent, and if I had a Saturday morning to give each week, I could see the real opportunity of real momentum that could lead to a food truck.  Claremont is tough, their farmers market is still in the stone age.  Nothing wrong with that, they all had to start somewhere.  But in September I went to Londonderry Vermont, THATS a farmers market!!!

Goodbye, Farewell, Amen

In July the time had come to say goodbye to my cousin Tom. The previous March, Tom died at his home in Nebraska from the flu. He was only 56. A service had been held in Nebraska back in March, but for those of us on the east coast, a celebration of life was held in Danbury CT.  There was no way that I could not speak in honor of Tom.

Tom was 4 years older than me, yet he always gave me a chance before anyone else ever would. He was like my brother. We became friends in the late 70s and by the early 80s we had become best of friends. So many deep conversations were had and they always came so easy. Tom taught me how to play guitar. Tom’s life had dealt him some tough circumstances as the years progressed, certainly none that he deserved. You always think you have more time, but then in just one moment....time’s up. He was in Connecticut in 2016.  At that time of course, there was much happening in my life to find a moment to get down there.  I am sad that it meant that not finding the time, meant that I would not have one more visit with him.  He was really a great guy, good person and a true friend.

Back to the White Mountains...well for the day

"Was there a family of 8 here that are hiking the Appalation Trail, kids ages 2-17?"  I could not help but ask one of the attendants at the White Mountain Information Center.  "Yeah, there was, a couple weeks ago I think.  They took a picture over by that moose." (Stuffed moose).  Yup, missed them again, but I knew that.  Ben Crawford, the dad in that family had messaged me and told me they were in Maine and we probably had missed an opportunity to meet, but he thanked me for sharing my "story of change" and for the support.

We wanted a hike.  We asked a woman at the counter what would be a good hike that would take just an afternoon but allow us a nice summit with nice views of the Whites.  She suggested Hedgehog Mountain, which is just up beyond Hancock campsite, on the Kancamangus Highway.

It was a wonderful hike but it did take more time than the woman said, we came out right at dark. There is a youtube video of this hike posted in this blog.

First Vacation in Two Years

Moose Hillock?  It is a campground in the White Mountains.  It is resort like, has all the amenities, yet sites that are not on top of each other. This is still not the type of camping that we do, but I was plotting in my mind that, we would get the kids to go to a campground that has all the attractions, and we can hike the Whites.  This campground would be more than I have ever paid for a campsite, but hey, if you are the best.  No regrets, right?  Well, then there are these pesky little things called "reviews".  The more I read, the worse it got.  It seems that Moose Hillock was in a tailspin, and we were not going to be spending $72 a night for such a regrettable experience.  So Saturday of vacation, I am directionless. The next thing I know we forgot the camper and we booked an AirBnb in Sevierville, Tennessee.  Oh boy!  The AT in the Great Smokey Mountains.  Yes it would be rural, and the kids might be disappointed that there is nothing to do there but hike.  

Pidgeon Forge and Gatlinburg Tennessee turned out to be as Ben Crawford says, a cross between 1980s Las Vegas and something else. So the kids were not interested in hiking.  A YouTube friend was very helpful in suggesting things to do. We did get to cruise Cade's Cove and go to Clingmans Dome. An expensive vacation complete with 2 stays in the same Ramada Inn at Strasburg, VA, that could be a great set for a post apocalyptic movie.

Inevitably....Autumn Arrives

September arrives, three seconds after the end of May.  Another summer season over. We had a weekend booked at winhall Brook in South Londonderry Vermont. I love this place and I also love the farmers market in Londonderry Vermont that has such wonderful Vermont charm oh, there is no other place like it. Well there we met some mushroom growers. From them we bought some maitake mushrooms and some lion's mane mushrooms. These were amazing and we made crab cakes out of the lion's mane.

On Friday I had the opportunity to hike the Appalachian Trail from Route 11 to the Bromley Summit it was a beautiful day for a hike.

The Universal Antagonist

There is an underrated movie from 1967 called “The Presidents Analyst”. It tells the story of a presidents analyst who cannot talk with anyone about what he knows. This creates more anxiety than he can deal with. It leads to catastrophic paranoia. In the meantime, various government agencies are trying to kill him. The phone company (a unit with the same power as Facebook, google, and other large personal data collecting monsters) wants what he knows to further their cause of power. He ends up being  protected by a suburban “Liberal” family that has more guns the the “right wing wackos” they are protecting themselves from. With many crazy mind bending plot twists  that were  common in the movies of the late 60’s, the kind that Austin Powers liked to spoof, in the end, the main character realizes the “it’s the phone company” behind all of the evil in their lives, behind all the evil in the world.

Hollywood was serious about their message in an insane package. This movie was destined for greatness, but gathered the attention of J. Edgar Hoover and somehow disappeared from the box office.

 I have recently located my universal antagonist. Before I say what that is, I will mention that in the past, I have identified a direct connection between how cluttered my garage was to being able to carry out large and important projects with my vehicles, my yard or inside my house. It has been the vapor lock on my ambition and self esteem. I know this sounds silly, but there really is a demoralizing effect about it.

This week, while Donna was on a family trip, I set up certain rules of my own design for my son’s to follow. The one most renegade, maverick, and provocative idea was to empty the dishwasher when the dishes are dry. Because the unit is then empty, we can put dirty dishes into it, as we are done with them.

I know I am sounding ridiculous here, but I have a right to be elated here. We have developed a bad habit from when our kids were babies. When the dishwasher was done, we left the clean dishes in it as we added dirty dishes to the sink in various stages of rinsed and not rinsed condition.  So when I am in Market Basket, there is still a glimmer within my soul to be creative and make something for dinner that makes you feel thankful to be alive to experience tastes.

The reality is, you get home and  have to carry in the things you bought (5 minutes), put everything away (15 minutes), empty the dishwasher (12 minutes), rinse, sand and chisel the crap off the dishes in the sink and load into the dishwasher (18 minutes), then wash anything that might not have fit into the dishwasher. It is this soul-sucking series of events that reduces me to the creative excellence of producing a bowl of Lucky Charms. It’s degrading!

This week, employing all the soft, sweet mannered loving direction of Hitler, I convinced my sons to NEVER PUT ANYTHING INTO THE SINK when they are done with it. It was difficult, but with my fine resolve to be annoyingly persistent, they did well. The most outstanding side effect was that my ambition to cook was not stolen from me.  We made burgers with Korean toppings, hand cut fries cooked in cast iron, chicken broccoli casserole, Asian dumplings and spinach artichoke dip. Not only did I put everything into the dishwasher after use, but I think I actually looked forward to the running and unloading, making everything a new again.

I know that the days ahead will be difficult, but the payoff is immense.

You try to appear to fit in but not too much, because then you don’t.

It is funny how airports can bring the humanity of humanity to the surface, but also pretend that it is not really there. There is a feeling of aloneness while being immersed in a sea of other people. I feel other people’s emotions without even trying, so this is a very serious thing I experience. It can be hard to sort out, but just like everything else I remember that each of them has their own brand of trivial stress. The trivialness is temporary because when sitting in an airport waiting for a flight, certain daily concerns peel away like an onion skin. This is because mortality gets sprinkled onto our essence like a deep savory spice. It’s just enough to make you appreciate you daily life.

I can’t tell you how many times I have looked around at the people at my departure gate and thought, “if this were the series LOST, what roles would each of us take should we end up on that island." Searching faces, I perceive where they fit into the story. This is what happens when you accidentally add too much seasoning, and I am ALL about this.

Yeah, the lines intersect all over the place for me. I passed up a wonderful breakfast buffet at the Gaylord Opryland Hotel for an airport breakfast. At the airport bar an almost 60 year old woman pounding down margaritas talking with the younger woman, and then later 2 men. Even though she says that she is on an upside down schedule today, hence the drinking, I can feel that this is only said for her to fool herself about fooling us. The breakfast consisted of 1/3 random yellow rubbery strips containing no actual food product, but having a hint of genuine fake egg taste.

That was Nashville. This is Baltimore. This airport has many times been a connector in my travels. I thoroughly got myself over the idea that I was going to get anything beyond a mediocre famous Maryland crab cake in this airport. Tried the Silver Diner's crab cake sliders last Sunday. They fell very short of how I remember them. 

 If you want to know who has the best food according to airport patrons, it is the one with the line that is far too long for my “used to Vermont/New Hampshire butt to be standing in.... by which I mean ChickFilet.

I walked all of BWI and in the end, reluctantly and silently kicking and screaming in my head, ordered from the Asian food counter..........that had no line. (No Actual Line, No Actual Food). 3 cream cheese wontons that surprisingly did not have cream cheese in them despite the words being in the name. 1 atrocious chicken egg roll that has me fearing for my life.

But the reason for this post is that woman. Somehow she is the impossible girl of air travel. I’ve seen her on many flights over the years. She has dirty blonde short straight hair. Maybe 102 pounds. She has a tan face and is definitely in her 50s although she could pass for mid 40s. She acts like she flies all the time. She pays no attention to anyone and at times you may think that she is talking to you or someone else, only to realize she is talking on the phone. Even if everyone were to vanish from the planet Twilight Zone style, she probably would not notice.

Who is she? It’s like this. When I was truck driving I would use the CB radio to navigate the challenges that awaited me out there on the highways. There was ALWAYS this voice, a booming mans voice with a strong and bold southern accent. I swear, no matter where it was, it was always the SAME GUY! Chicago, Connecticut, Texas, Pittsburgh. It did not matter, it was him and he was everywhere. She was like that, everywhere!

Somehow the perpetual air traveler woman has managed to smuggle an entire meal onto the plane and is eating it while she still talks on the phone into her headset. She does not care if her brazen attitude annoys or offends you, she owns everything here.

Until next time, impossible air traveler girl.

About Memory Pegs: The Dukes

It started out on a winter night in January of 1979. The preview just before the show, the Dukes of Hazzard looked very gritty and dark.  I was at my Grandma's house on that night and there was sort of an air of, "should this be on?" Black and White TV and all.

It did not take long for this show to be the family fun Friday night, sort of a Brady Bunch caliber of a deep South show with complications. The antagonist, Boss Hogg, was just as persistent as any villan in the old 1966 Batman series. Mad Magazine aptly pointed out that the plot lines consisted of Boss and Roscoe planting moonshine in the General Lee for episodes 3,5,7,9,12,15,18,21,23 of any given season.

 First peg: That statement from Mad has defaulted my mind lifelong to the expected length of a television season, by which I mean, 23 episodes,  period. I also have to say there is an image in my head from that same magazine in which the Duke boys go to California. Even funnier they are united with Ponch and Jon from Chips (the motorcycle cop show on primetime back in those days) and while in a major California highway traffic jam the Duke boys show Ponch and John how to get through traffic by using dynamite armed arrows to blow cars out of the way so that they could get through.

Somewhere between 256 and 321 "General Lee" cars were created and mostly destroyed during the series. Less than 20 in various states of disrepair still exist, according to IMDB. I remember reading a story in a magazine back around 1982 in which they got so desperate for Dodge Chargers that they started putting notes on people's windshields at shopping centers offering to buy them from the owners.

The Dukes of Hazzard was a fun ride through the teenage years. When we were fourteen years old riding our bikes and making jumps it was customary to yell yeehaa!!!!  as we flew through the air with our bikes. Because of this I can still recall in the summer of 1979, the poor little girl next door named Brenda would get spanked by her mom because she would not stop yelling yeehaa! Being the age that we were we thought this was pretty funny.

My friend Nick and I used to sort of poke fun at how television pop culture had sort of infiltrated our own personal history. But as we move forward into time, it  has become even crazier where social media has trivialized or shall I say glorified trivialization. So music and television is woven into who we are when we make references. Our goal is to not be so cliche because everything is cliche now.

I've come to realize that experiences like the Dukes of Hazzard is nothing more than impact on us from a temporary family situation built to generate money.  Somehow this  ended up becoming endeared to us. For the actors as well whom had built relationships among those people that will never go away. Whether it is the Dukes or my recent reading about one of my all-time favorite shows, Northern Exposure, the people that were involved saw it during those days as a job. And now for all of them it represents one of the most amazing experiences ever. A privilege. The best days of their lives.

What the heck am I talking about this for? Because, yes it may be a way for someone to sell paraphernalia in this case Ben Jones, AKA Cooter Davenport. But the fact that after eating dinner last night, I walked two doors down and so enjoyed looking at the General Lee and all of the other vehicles and pieces and souvenirs and pictures that were in this  museum, it became  more evivident that this was much larger than I had expected it to be. My visit was really about paying respect to an amazing moment in time and how it impacted the people that actually worked in it. But I also paid tribute to the effect it had on each and every one of us. The Dukes of Hazzard was going to be a quick and temporary fill in show for 9 weeks. "A three hour tour" if you will.

I have an associative memory, which means different things (acting as memory pegs) cause me to remember other things and in many cases they are not even related to each other. So there are many things but the show represents that take me back to moments when I was 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 and so forth. And if something can do that, if you can be brought back for just a moment for just one memory, you might remember something else you have not thought of since then.

 The human mind is wonderful and allowing yourself an indulgence like this can open up doors to memories that seemed to be gone like lost photographs that you wish you could see one more time.  But, are you ready? This is where it gets interesting. It's different for each of us! I actually learned today from a very amazing woman named Poppy Crum that this is a very big thing!  We all have very different experiences coming from the same information. Not only cultural differences but the fundamentals are shaping who we are and how we interpret our environment.  We are constantly changing. We experience things differently from one person to the next. What does this little memory gem bring back for you?

This post got a bit deeper than I expected. Fascinating.