A tailor near me in long branch

I have to admit that I was a little bummed taking that ascending staircase out  of Cloud Nine these last few days.

  Last week we were experiencing one of the happiest days of our entire marriage at the "Front Porch" in Ogunquit, Maine, as we gathered around a piano with all the revelers, some who sang off-key, some who sang like superstars, most who knew every lyric to "Bohemian Rhapsody."

 The crowd was delirious with a contagious  joy, and that was only ONE highlight of our blissful vacation.

I can still still hear the laughter coming from the patio as we all got drenched during the sudden storm: how everyone pitched in with a rousing chorus of "f*ck it!" as we pointed out how the rain affected us individually.

Yeah..that vacation was hard to beat, but you know something??

Despite all the mail that needed to be sorted and the mounds of laundry, all the reminders of reality,  this has been a really sweet homecoming.

It's like we're still on vacation.

My brother and sister-in-law brought their grandchildren here on Tuesday to use the pool.

 Regular folks would pay good money to hear those kids talk! I see stand up careers in their not so distant futures.

Like little E, who insisted that "Michael Jordan is our President" and when Evan corrected him by telling him "no, it's Joe Biden", he responded with:  "Well..if it's not Michael Jordan, it SHOULD be!"

Or..when asked what he wants to be when he grows up, he answers, "a security guard in a museum because they make a lot of money by sitting around all day" (remember..he is FIVE!!) or.."I'd like to be a judge, but not the kind who gets a lot of homework in law school.  The kind of judge who holds up numbers  and tells dancers whether they're an eight, nine, or ten"

That helped me get through the potential  end-of-vacation blues..he was as funny as any comic we paid to see!

The only downer about our Maine getaway was the realization that our favorite restaurant, "The Steakhouse" was closed on Sundays, and we had been waiting eighteen years to return to it..

Tonight, we recreated something even better than that..Jim randomly chose a restaurant near the Long Branch theater and it was the best restaurant we've ever eaten in here in the Garden State.  Our friends Suzette and Allan concurred:  This meal was superb!

Creamy tomato bisque served with scrumptious strips of a homemade grilled cheese sandwich...and I had a steak that rivaled any that I missed out on in Maine..with a delicious au poivre peppery sauce.

  And those creamy sweet potatoes!

 And the most luscious piece of Key Lime pie we've ever shared.

It's like we had an unexpected add on day of the vacation..just a week later, a bonus day but  in a different state.

Locals:  Check out the elegant ambiance and mouth-watering menu found at Squire at Branches in Long Branch, New Jersey.  Don't even wait for a special occasion--go NOW, before too many people find out about it.

We then took the short drive to our favorite local theater, New Jersey Rep in Long Branch.  The parking lot and the theater itself were packed because of all the great reviews of "The Tailor Nearby" has received in all the local papers.

It was a wonderful ninety minute character study(no intermission) and was written by "LA Law's" Michael Tucker, starring  two of my favorite TV actors, James Pickens Jr. (Dr. Richard Webber from "Grey's Anatomy") and Richard Kind. (From "Mad About You" and "Spin City")

The theater is small and intimate and you can hear every word.  There isn't a bad seat in the house.  I've missed chunks of Broadway productions because of seating that made dialogue inaudible, but tonight I heard every hilarious and poignant word of this wonderful story.

And even saw Dan Lauria(Jack Arnold from "The Wonder Years") talking to fans in the lobby.

It's been one of those weeks..just a happy, end of summer week that makes you almost want to forgive August for being in such a hurry to clean up and end the party.

I'm even enjoying streaming TV..especially all  the cliffhangers from  the penultimate episode of .."and Just Like That"

Sometimes life gives you lemons..other times, it's a warm chocolate chip cookie with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream, just there for your enjoyment.

Just begging you to sample and indulge.

Life is for the living..even in a rainstorm. 

 Even on a cloudy day.

Even when your fabulous vacation ended..but it didn't actually end.

Counting my blessings every day.

Oils well that ends well..

I'm all set to describe more of my day when I realize I just blogged about..the weather!!

Isn't that the dreaded small talk I'm constantly complaining about?

Next I'll be telling you about returning tea towels to Target.

We started our day bright and early, walking the Marginal Way, Ogunquit's most famous attraction.

The ocean is shimmering..the rocks are inviting, and the path can be steep in places but there are plenty of benchs to rest on.

Benches with affirmations printed on them like "Be Kind" and "Love Humanity" and "why'd you wear those shoes?  You're going to get a killer blister"

We were dressed for light rain and wound up in a not so light sweat, but I've always considered a walk on the Marginal Way a "must do" for anyone visiting Ogunquit. 

We started the trek at the Sparhawk Hotel and ended at the renouned Perkins Cove, a quaint little village peppered with boats and shops and Labradoodles.

The little gift shop  we used to go to is gone. 

My favorite memory of it was when I pointed to a tote bag that I wanted that was secured to the high ceiling, and when the clerk said she could "get it down for me" I asked, "so how much will it now cost?"

(I got the discount and the bag that I still use)

The shop was replaced by a terrific place called "Maine-ly Drizzle" that sold essential oils.  It was one of the most fun things we've ever done under the umbrella of shopping.

Carla ,the owner ,gave us several samples in tiny paper cups of oils that tasted like tangerine, or coffee, or vanilla. 

 Everything was delicious and we bought two TSA approved bottles.  

I can't wait to use them and set the house on fire.

Don't tell Evan, but we may sneak a little of that espresso oil next time we grill the london broil he enjoys when he stops by for dinner..

Carla told us that Bette Davis loved Ogunquit too..she lived nearby, and was hired as the first female lifeguard on Ogunquit Beach.

I can hear her now on the megaphone:

"Fasten your seatbelts..It's going to be a bumpy night with torrential downpours that'll make you laugh yourselves silly"

It wasn't even noon and we had already walked the Marginal Way, drunk in nature's beauty with a great appreciation, and sampled a bunch of oil.

We had lunch overlooking the sea at "Jackie's Too"..one of our favorite spots in Perkins Cove. A seagull stared us down from a nearby rock.  I'm guessing he comes daily, but he was not getting any of my lobster roll, or the best fries I've ever tasted.

We were not on the beach yet we were having the time of our lives!  We had done so much and it was just a few minutes after noon.

We visited the famous Perkins Candy, where Jim got a bag of unsweetened coffee beans, and I got a square of peanut butter fudge that was probably not a good idea.

We then made the spontaneous decision to board a lobster boat, run by women, and it was great fun.

Heather steered the boat while Marie explained all the sights, using a mic that made her a little inaudible, even 'though there were only like twelve passengers, and we find out that a few of them lived just around the corner from our home in New Jersey.

Marie described what to expect from the tour while Heather drenched her hands in fish guts that smelled worse than my t-shirt. 

Or maybe it WAS that t-shirt that I was smelling.

Karen, Calm Down.

They explained all about lobstering, how males have meatier claws but females have meatier tails.

I bet there are other ways to tell the males from the females.  I bet the males demand a little male lobster man cave.

 Maine produces one hundred million pounds of lobster a year(did I get that right?) but a lot have to be thrown out for being the wrong size.

(Like me that time I tried to get into Studio 54)

They told us that the smart lobsters know how to escape after eating, exiting through the kitchen and parlor, but the dumb ones get caught and eaten.

(According to fishery experts from New Hampshire who set up cameras..I don't know how I'd personally decide if a lobster was dumb or not.  I might ask them if they ever watched "Jersey Shore" and get my answer)

Heather dropped her stick in the rocky waves..the stick that holds up the lobster trap she's trying to host up--but the gal has abs of steel and quickly retreived it.

There was a five year old on our tour named Nico who asked fascinating questions about marine life.  He was there with another five year old, Dante, who was only interested in where he could throw up.

(I was sympathetic.  I felt like a lot of fish and/or birds were going to get some of my lobster roll from lunch after all)

A bird flew onto the ship's bow that Marie and Heather called Jonathan, as in Jonathan Livingston Seagull.  An aggressive grey bird  also flies onto their boat almost daily.  His named is Steven Segall.

Why do birds..suddenly appear..every time..guts are near??

(I thought they should change the name of their ship from "Finest Kind" to "Sylvester Stallone" because it was so Rocky.)

Ba-da-dum!!

Seriously, I highly recommend taking a lobster cruise if you're ever in Maine. Especially if a bright kindergartener is along for the ride and asking scientific questions while his friends sleeps off the urge to vomit..like a  true Housewife on Bravo..

I just can't believe how GREAT this day was and we didn't even get on the beach!

I'm usually only happy when I'm wet, but we did a lot!

I sat on benches with daily affirmations, I dabbled in oil, I scolded a seagull, I had some peanut butter fudge, I laughed with my husband and learned about lobsters and how to catch crabs, something I wasn't interested in when I went to college.

We sought shelter and we made friends and we laughed and sang and filled our glasses with freshly squeezed lemonade and our hearts with joy.

We're going to a very special restaurant tonight in Cape Neddick, recommended by a total stranger we met for five minutes in a parking lot but recommendations from strangers is my jam.

The restaurant sounds like a place to go to if you want to impress a first date.  But don't date the kind of men my cousin did when she was single.  She was talking to a blind date over the phone, before their first in-person meeting, and when she told him she was a paralegal, he wanted to cancel, saying "I don't think your wheelchair will fit in my car"

We fly home tomorrow, but part of the reason I wanted to come to Ogunquit Maine in the first place was to recreate some of the magic we shared in 1988 when we first vacationed together.

I wanted to capture all that wonderment and the laughs and the joy and the young love.

I think I accomplished that goal.

F*ck it!

You KNOW you've picked the perfect place to vacation when even something  usually considered a bad part of your trip becomes a  FANTASTIC, almost religious, experience.

It was mid-afternoon, and we  had just gotten off of a lobster boat(more on that later) and Jim was annoyed at my snail's pace, which made us miss the first trolley to the beach, which inspired us  to stop at Barnacle Billy's for drinks until the next trolley came.

This turned out to be very fortunate, missing that beach-bound trolley.

Missing the trolley prolly saved our lives.

There's a nice looking couple sitting around a shaded table with their pretty thirty something daughter and their two hyper dogs. 

The guy sees my  "Karen..Calm Down" t-shirt, which should been laundered days ago, which  I only wore to get attention  from my gays on the Marginal Way walk.

 (I'm not homophobic.   If it's okay for Kathy Griffin to to talk about "her gays, " it's OK for me too)

I thought we would do nothing else  but take the winding footpath above the cliffs because of the rain that was supposed to hit us in the morning. That rain would have been soft and pleasant. That rain would have been expected and accepted.

The guy hears me order lemonade and tells me he'd add some of his vodka to it if I promised to "calm down, Karen "

I lied and said he could  spike my lemonade if they let us share their table in their  highly coveted spot.

The guy, Rich, was here with his nurse wife Debbie, and their thirty-something daughter Melissa, a first timer to Ogunquit, even 'though they all live in Rhode Island, a relatively short drive. 

Not sure where in Rhode Island they're from.

 I'm guessing it's Quahog and they personally know the Griffins.

Peter, Lois, Meg, Chris, Stewie, Brian..and Kathy.

They're telling us about all the walking they had to do because they couldn't leave the dogs unattended, and they're perfectly pleasant people, when all of a sudden, we hear the loudest sound we've ever heard-- even louder than  me when I have Taco Bell.  

This wasn't just a clap of thunder..this was freakin' apocalyptic, and the loud boom was followed by scary thunderbolts and torrential downpours. Tables and small dogs were violently shaking. 

Sadists were cheering and laughing.

The dogs were flipping out, even  those in their thunder jackets, but we were all kind of calm..looking at it as.. an adventure.

An unscheduled but super fun activity!!

There were like fifty people on that patio, and somebody points out what was happening on the overhead bridge..an entire bridal party dressed to the nines  that were posing for pics.

They were soaked to the bone, and Melissa advises the bride to "jump into the water and not go through with the wedding."

The Mom complains about the wind that resulted in a brutal soaking, the dad was finally cooled off, but everything , including his cell phone, was drenched.

At first, it was only OUR table yelling out random things like, "these napkins are unusable..FUCK IT!"

"My designer bag is ruined..FUCK IT!"

"My dog needs immediate psychiatric care..FUCK IT!"

Soon, EVERYONE on that patio was yelling out what the sudden storm did to them personally, and everyone in the crowd joined in with sympathetic choruses of "FUCK IT!"

This is the same  restaurant frequented by George and Barbara Bush, who must have been rolling over in their graves from all the profanity(incited by me) that came from  unhappy  wet guests  at their favorite haunch.

The rain stopped and we took a short trolley ride to our car in the lot.  I wanted to go to the beach, but the weather gods told me not to.

We came back to use the hotel pool, and a woman sees me hesitating to go in, but assures me it was safe because the thunder sounded miles away, and she'd let me know when it became unsafe when  I saw her "running and screaming"

I'm not capable of running and screaming, but the poor lady did once witness someone get struck by lightning on a ball field as a child , so I can see where she's coming from. 

Her  family had been stuck on the beach when the warning first came, and told us that lifegaurds used their megaphones to basically intruct people to "run for their lives."

I wonder what those poor zhlubs did that had to disassemble beach tents that took hours to erect?

Or..if I had been on that beach... just ONE order to "toss those Dip n Dots and run like hell, lady!" and I'd finally find out what the "ice cream of the future" was all about, because I'd have no future.

I just realized that we have almost three hours until our dinner reservation, and it's still pouring..("FUCK IT!") and there's not much to do("FUCK IT!") and Jim is napping..("FUCK IT!") so I'm breaking a little rule of mine by breaking this Facebook post/blog into two parts.

"Karen..that's not okay!" you say.

And I'll respond.."Stay tuned.."

or.."Fuck it!"

Day by day bi-son

Day by day... this vacay.. keeps getting better.

And of course I made a geeky reference to "Godspell" (and it's most popular song) because we just returned from a hokey production of the show in the town of Berwick Maine, at a theater in a barn called something that sounded like "Big Mac Attack."

The emcee told us the stage was built on his grandfather's farm, and it was "either going to be a church or a theater" which "explains why we've shown "Godspell" here so many times."

The emcee/seat usher  greeted us at the door, with an entry of wobbly flatstones, wearing suspenders and carrying a wicker basket stuffed with programs.

Before he even verified our name, he asked if we wanted to see the roaming bison and the piglets in the back.

I told him we did not, but it was a funny coincidence that the exact same question was asked by the usher who showed us our seats in a 2016 production of  Broadway's "Hamilton."

And of course I'm joking.  

You think we could afford tickets to "Hamilton"  that year, when they were selling for way over a grand a person?  

We needed that  kind of money to save up for beach fee parking here in Ogunquit.

The last time we were at this Big Mac Attack barn was in 2005 with Evan and his friend Jimmy, and there were no roaming buffalo but there was a semi professional production of "Seussical" staged there.

I think the books of Dr. Seuss have equal credibility to the books of the bible depicted in "Godspell" but that's because I'm a woke Democrat.

Tonight it's all about Judas, tomorrow we'll try to find a drag queen show,  for balance, which should be much easier to find in Ogunquit Maine than a parking space.

The barn had a nice breeze and the actors had good voices, but once the emcee/usher/preacher did his thing, I was already checked out.

"Jerry Falwell", I whisper to Jim.

He didn't respond.

"The Righteous Gemstones?"

He replied this time with "STFU..I LOVE "Godspell!"

This show had a lot of updated schtick involving Will Smith's famous slap and the Kardashianas, and we laughed and we liked it.  

Especially the travel  to get there, on a totally deserted winding rural road.

Enough "Godspell" for now, I'm barely awake and I want to describe the rest of my day, even 'though nothing can compare to the euphoria of last night's contagious camaraderie with the Piano Man.

We breakfasted at our favorite old haunch, "The Egg and I" and I got a lot of attention for wearing a "Karen..Calm Down!" t-shirt.

There were signs all over the restaurant saying "Be Nice" which I read, in my semi-woke state, as "Bernice"..and I wondered if Bernice was going to be the "I" in  "The Egg and I."

I got the wordle on my second guess!!

Oh, who cares about that? 

 You want to read more about buffalo and piglets, even 'though that ship has sailed.

I finally got my beach fix!

We were back at one of my favorite places on Earth, Ogunquit's Main(e) beach, where the water is a shimmering pearl green and the waves are gentle.  You won't find rocks(like at Wells Beach, a few miles North) or shells or medical or animal waste.

But what you will find is beach camaraderie akin to the revelers at the piano bar, who set up extravagant tents, but I didn't care that my view was blocked: nobody smoked!

I don't know if there's a town ordinance that forbids it--it's been eighteen years since we've been here..but what I DO know is that we spent forty dollars to rent beach chairs.

Totally worth it.

We started to fret around three, but we had at least five hours of quality beach time by then..and Dip n Dots, "The Ice Cream of the Future" that I first discovered here in 1988.  

I'm wondering how the manufacturers define the future?? Shouldn't it have been here by now?

It was such a great day, with plenty of surf and sunshine, with a guitarist serenading us with Paul Simon songs from the seaside eatery, and seeing all the vegans envying our hot dogs.  

In the past, we used hot dogs as bait to catch crabs with, but eighteen years later,  as woke adults, we're no longer interested in catching crabs.

Jim thought the walk back to the hotel was a nice, leisurely stroll, which translated into a need for oxygen for me, so we decided to hop on a trolley, even 'though our dinner reservations were less than an hour away.

This was NOT the Ogunquit we're used to, where trolley fees were a dollar a pop(now they're five dollars a person for a one way trip) and the cars came frequently and the drivers weren't intoxicated.

Our driver left to "get an ice cream" and gave us no idea when he'd return.  Jim was willing to eat the ten dollars he had already paid, when he realized he couldn't easily walk  up the mountain that lead  to the hotel to get the car..because we were LOCKED in this trolley!

He started freaking out but the driver eventually returned, and Jim parked me at a bench that smelled like rotting garbage, but he got the car and we had plenty of time to shower and dress nicely and make fun of each other's craziness.

The dinner was superb(he had lazy lobster and angel hair pasta, I had prime rib and a popper) and the setting was elegant, with twinkling lights and a romantic ambiance.

This vacation keeps getting better and better..day by day...hour by hour..minute by minute..the magic is always there.

The front porch

OMG!!!

I normally do not sacrifice sleep for a Facebook/blog post.

I barely sacrificed sleep when I had a newborn baby, but if I don't type up my thoughts while they're this fresh, I'm going to explode, and that would be extremely messy.

I've had a lot of memorable days in my life..days which could easily compete for the title of "the best time I ever had."

There were  those big events, like the day I became Jim's wife or Evan's mother.

The time I won $1,100 (AND A MR. COFFEE!!) as a game show contestant.

Look at all the Woodloch memories I've shared..the Club Med trips, but on a scale that measures pure happiness...inexplicable JOY..well..nothing that's not  permanently life-changing compares..to what I ..what we.. have just spent the last few hours doing.

It's Reid and Joni's last night in Maine, and they suggested we go to a piano bar that they frequent often.

It meant no time for  a real dinner, it meant scaling a steep and narrow staircase , and it meant being packed like  intoxicated sardines in a very crowded bar, but  they  had already secured seats for us by getting there extra early.  High stools that surrounded the piano, where the music was so loud you couldn't hear anyone even think.

You couldn't even hear my loud grumbling stomach.

I quickly scanned the crowd and decided I did not belong in a bar like this..where bachelorette parties had been drinking ALCOHOL since the middle of the day; where buffed gay men clinked their glasses and shared private jokes.

I must have walked by this place, Ogunquit's famous "The Front Porch" dozens of times since we first came here in the summer of 1988.  It's situated at the town's busiest intersection, and never going inside was always  fine by me--I had no intention of ever stepping foot in there.  I'd listen to the plinking keys of the piano wafting from a window two stories up and say a private little prayer, thankful that I wasn't one of those poor sheep waiting to get in, in a line that snaked around the corner.

They would never accept me anyway, I thought.

I'm too frumpy: too chunky: too poorly dressed,  I'm under accessorized. I can't sing or even  hoist myself onto a bar stool.

I looked at myself as a big hunk of boring white bread, although my gay male friends reading thus far might disagree and call me one of their favorite fruit flies.

So my skepticism and hunger were as high as the bar stool, and "The Front Porch" was loud, and it was crowded, and it was..one of the happiest nights of my entire life.

All my cynicism flew out of that second floor window when I saw the first performer wearing  a rainbow t-shirt with the word"Stonewall" printed in dozens of rows.  He played a few notes of recognizable pop and Broadway songs, and everyone sang along, knowing every lyric; knowing every dance step; even when the pianist cracked gay-friendly improvised lyrics to songs from "Grease"..they danced like Sandy and Danny were there in person, and all us revelers were judging their important dance off.

The piano was was surrounded by business cards and Venmo instructions for placing requests and tips in a large inverted glass top hat, and we couldn't stop making requests.

The lit  partiers lit up the room....and lit me up  as well, when  pianist Robert Dionne sang the first few notes of "Something from "Hairspray", requested by Karen from New Jersey" and everyone seemed to love substituting  "Good Morning, Baltimore!" for "Good Evening, Ogunquit, Maine!"

(At least, all the well-dressed singers within ear shot.)

It was a sing along like nothing I've ever experienced before.  The camaraderie was palpable.

Multiple generations of all sizes and shapes and genders were joining in, knowing every lyric to "Bohemian Rhapsody" or the greatest hits by the King. 

 (And Jim was smart enough to wear his "Graceland" t-shirt!)

It was a rolicking, roaring, raucous, incredibly good time..a religious experience with a joyful crowd who could stand in their high heeled shoes for another five hours if need be.

Yes, even the women.

Words can't describe just how wonderful life is....when you're ..being serenaded by a pianist and his followers, singing our wedding song, Elton John's "Your Song."

Our actual anniversary isn't until  November, but I wasn't going to disappoint that crowd or myself. by revealing that.... a crowd who cheered wildly to celebrate Karen and Jim. A crowd who enthusiastically embraced us.

Joni calls "The Front Porch" her "happy place" but happy isn't even a strong enough adjective.

It is joyful..magnificent...the best thing you'll experience all year; the reason you need to book a trip to Ogunquit Maine as soon as you can.

A half a dozen semi conscious members of the bachelorette party looked like they were willing to give us a vital organ in exchange for our prime real estate  bar stools around the piano/table, but we were actually  a little bit hungry for something more substantial than love by this point.

We walked across the street to a perfect little spot, buzzing with activity, as we shared some tantalizing small plates and laughs and almost cult-like appreciation for what we had just experienced.

Sing us a song, you're the piano man..sing us a song tonight!

Beautiful place in need of a traffic light

You know how much I try to avoid cliches like the plague, but lazy writing be damned..this place is a little slice of heaven with a cherry on top.

While I had a restful morning, Jim had a busy one, an amateur photographer's dream as he took a long winding path that led to the beach, sipped coffee on a bench overlooking the cliffs, where the waves were white with foam, and just drank in every ounce of beauty. 

 This place isn't called "Beautiful Place By the Sea" for no reason, although maybe that SHOULD be the official name, since it's easier to spell than Ogunquit. 

 If I were in charge of renaming this town, I'd call it, "when-are-you-getting-a-traffic-light?" but that is a mouthful, and besides, I know about the town ordinance that forbids neon or any kind of light besides those  twinkling ones decorating a porch, so asthetics must come before common sense.

It always does.

I fret about the stupidest things, like how I have no lipstick(I eventually found a tube buried deep in the crevices of my pocketbook) and how much I spent on a leg waxing, and you can still see faint traces of light blonde knee hair if you're directly in the sun.

I can have arms that should, according to physics, allow me to take flight at any given moment, but nope..I only care about an unwaxed three centimeter section on an ankle or a possibly toxic tube of aged lipstick.

I was preoccupied with a sticker that totally blocks my view of the road, an issue that perplexed Jim who is doing all of the very stressful driving.

"What do you have to see from the passenger side?"

"What if you miss a moose in the road?  A bear?"

"is it too late to add the phrase, "as soon as possible!!" to your "Karen..Calm Down!" t-shirt??"

We had another wonderful day with our cousins, as they regaled us with amusing anecdotes and Joni displayed an array of funky hats. She must have over a hundred.

I just found out today, after knowing her since the mid-seventies, that her given name is not Joan or Joanne.."Joni" is what appears on her birth certificate, which will make for an interesting fun fact in my upcoming paragraphs.

We explored the flat beaches of Wells and went  into the ocean about thigh high.  There were a lot of rocks and some interesting avian friends who stopped by, but the water itself was not as cold as it is reputed to be.

I'd rather be refreshed while greeting the waves in southern Maine than swimming in the lukewarm water tea water that is otherwise known as the Florida coastline.

We had a fabulous lunch overlooking the water..some kind of dip that had lobster, spinach, artichokes, cream cheese, garlic..and probably some unknown quality like a baby unicorn because it was that good.  

Great service..great company..great food..great cliches.

It's all good.

It's all great.

We returned to their deck, overlooking the ocean as the tide came in, and played a rousing game of " Catch Phrase" where I was partnered with Joni and Jim and Reid were our opponents.

(And here's where a previous paragraph comes into play)

I describe a name that popped up on my screen by saying, "she's a wonderful Canadian folk singer who shares your real name!!" and she looked at me, quizzically, and responded, "Joan-ie Baez?"

That wasn't as hilarious as when Reid prompted Jim with, "it's the place where Peter Pan lived" and Jim answered in the singular, "Never-land?" and Reid prompts him some more, saying, "no..double that!" and you know where my goofy husband thought Peter Pan and the lost boys lived??

"Never-LANDS??"

Oh, he's a funny one ..him and his with his pluralization!

Pluralizations.

It was a great afternoon and we came back to our hotel to enjoy the pool and hot tub, and get tickets for tomorrow night's performance of "Godspell" which is playing in a barn that's about a half hour away, which means we should get  there in time for the evening performance if we leave now.

We're overstuffed from lunch so we'll spend our last night with our cousins(who head back tomorrow for Massachusetts) in a fun bar with a pianist and folks who love to sing along to show tunes called "The Front Porch."

Maybe we'll have a little nosh or two.

There's rain in Sunday's forecast but we don't care.  

The rain in Maine stays plainly on the terrain!!

...I like the idea of walking along a hilly pathway when it's drizzling.

In fact, I like.. I LOVE..everything about this beautiful state.

A return to paradise

"I miss Duane!"

... is what my nephew ,Scott ,said in 1992, when he was six, and  was coming to the Pine Tree State for the first time.

Duane, for the curious, was the name of our server in a long-forgotten restaurant in Saco, Maine, outside of a waterpark we had just visited. 

Scott said  this within hours of returning to our rental home,  and we've been quoting it ever since.

We replay a lot of sentences..and memories..and scenarios, and  we do so quite often.

Well..to paraphrase my nephew..

I miss Maine!

Or HAVE missed it, for eighteen years.

We wanted to recreate a short getaway, because it was here in Ogunquit, in the summer of 1988, when we both knew we were going to be in it for the long haul. Love was in the air, along with the smell of saltwater and  the sight of fascinating  tidal pools rife with crabbers and row boats;  the intoxicating smell of homemade fudge from the renowned Perkins Candy Shop, of fresh paint on canvases from inspired artists who set up  their easels all around town.

We smartly flew this time..we were in Portland an hour after leaving Newark, and less than that in the rental car to get here.

"OMG!" I upon seeing the first familiar site, a store selling artifacts and souvenirs.  "Remember when Marissa was holding up everything from the porcelain bin and held the manicured artwork while exclaiming, with sincerity, "somebody lost their hand!!"

I was flooded with great memories of being here with  family and friends, from my late, goofy mother saying "I'll never wash this hand again!" after it was shaken by George and Barbara Bush, frequent visitors to Perkins Cove's "Barnacle Billy's"

(And she never did.  I'm guessing it was HER hand that Marissa found that day)

Or the time we dined there when Evan was a first grader, and the Bushes were seated two tables away.  George had a beer. Barbara had iced tea and carried a purse  that was decorated with  a painting of Walkers Points, their summer home in nearby Kennebunkport.

 I pointed to Barbara and said, "she was the first lady!" and he replied, "no..Eve was!"

(Which is better than saying , with a distainful yawn, "Mom..my crystal ball tells me I'm going to be an adult one day who dislikes the Republican Party with a passion, so don't bother pointing out even the nice ones")

Some of our favorite haunts are gone, replaced by hotels and restaurants we didn't recognize, but it nevertheless felt like a homecoming.

We stopped for lunch at a place called Billy's Chowder House, recommended by cousins Reid and Joni, who  first told us about Ogunquit back in 1988, ("New Englanders don't go to Cape Cod..New Englanders go to Maine!") and..how lucky are we..?..our favorite cousins were available and are sharing  a few days with us while we're here.

We haven't seen them in seven years..and we've been catching up ever since.

Reid works his magic by getting square pegs into round holes, finding last minute reservations, or parking spots equivalent to finding needles in haystacks. (Ugh..that's something I have long forgotten about..the traffic here is obscene!!  We spent a million dollars on renting that state of the art Nissan  Sentra but I think 

we're going to stick with the open air trolleys , because we're not going to deal with traffic jams like that on a Maine vacation.. the only kind of jams we're going to deal with will be found in jars of freshly picked blueberries.)

Our schedule was so tight but Reid makes everything easy..we had a wonderful dinner at one of our favorite places, Jonathan's, where Reid brought an issue to the manager and didn't come across the least bit Karen. A lot of people reading this blog are fans of his political posts, so you'd be impressed with how he handles issues.  This one involved mashed potaoes but that's irrelevant..he gets things done. 

 Without hurting feelings.  

Without writing negative reviews on Yelp. 

(Unless he does..they must make a great read.  Which is what he is. A great Reid) 

He gets things done without having to sample the gross texture of the side dish.

Our server was amused..when we asked him to take a group photo, he complied..but not without secretly taking a selfie.  (He's a handsome guy)

Joni is a pistol too.  Always the teacher.  She is so loved by her students, and by every fashionista in this village.  She could be the wardrobe person from "Sex and the City" or "and Just Like That"..I've never seen so many bright, neon colors..or strappy shoes..accessories and  sunglasses and purses that attract compliments from strangers!  Oh..and don't get me started on her funky hats!  They're awesome!  There was a glare from the sunlight coming through the blinds at the lunch place, and even 'though it's been seven years, I knew my cousins were heading toward our table by that hat.

After Jonathan's, we went to Ogunquit's renouned Leavitt theater and saw four absolutely fabulous stand up comics. Reid got us the best seat in the house..a  ringside VIP table. We see him stop to greet a friend, which isn't unusual when a suburban Bostonian travels to Maine..they always run into neighbors.

But this was no neighbor.

It was beloved congressman Barney Frank from Massachuetts who knows Reid and Joni quite well.  Jim geeked out a little--poltical heroes mean more to him than if he ran into..say..Tom Brady or  fellow Bostonian , actor Ben Affleck....and all he could say to him was, "I like your appearances on the Rachel Maddow Show."

Such a fun night in such a cute town with beautifully dressed visitors, vibrant restaurants, happy dogs on leashes, looking for spilled scoops from Ben and Jerry's, rainbow flags, artists, and just an all around nice vibe.

We're meeting the cousins at their hotel, one town over, with a quieter beach, where we'll brave the cold but calm surf, laugh and reminisce,  play a little "Catch Phrase, and plan another fun evening.

When I took that first succulent bite of my lobster roll yesterday at lunch, or a grilled buttery hot dog roll overflowing with the sweet pink meat, I knew ..I was home.

And it's good to be back!