Signs You’re in Maine
Maine’s got some pretty wild road signs. Some are odd. Well, odd to anyone who lives above the 45th Paralell.
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Tag Archives: Maine
Maine Things: Signs You’re in Maine
3 FebMaine Things: Bargain Hunting
10 Dec
I got really lucky when I moved up to Presque Isle. There was an available, affordable apartment for rent that suited all of my needs spatially.
I’d arrived with only the things I could cram into the cab and truck bed of a Ford F-150 truck, which I am eternally grateful to my older brother for allowing me to lease from him for the time I’m in Maine.
But the apartment was empty. I needed and desired a few things to fill up my space and allow me to live efficiently and comfortably. There certainly wasn’t enough money in the bank to go out and purchase all new furnishings, so I had to get creative.
Chapter 8: Bob Seger Comes to Visit
25 Nov
“I’m at dinner with Emily and her family, what’s up?” Joe said.
I called my best friend and old roommate Joe Sweeney in an emergency. He didn’t answer. I texted him, “Call me back. It’s important.” So minutes later he finally called back.
I hastily explained the situation and he empathized, agreeing that truly was a dire situation. I could only imagine the scene of him returning to the dinner table and explaining that the emergency phone call he just made was about a Bob Seger T-shirt. But this wasn’t just any old T-shirt. Continue reading
Maine Things: Basic Cable TV
11 Nov
As someone who’s grown up with the benefit and distraction of cable TV my entire life, it was certainly a change having my television scope being shrunk from hundreds of channels down to only 18. Like most downsizing adjustments in life, there’s multiple obvious unfavorable outcomes, along with underlying advantages that are visible only to those with the proper perspective, and also speak French.
My Time-Warner cable package here in Maine includes 18 channels: the 4 big networks, the CW, PBS, TV Guide Network, 2 French language channels, CBC, 3 religious channels, 3 home shopping channels, 1 infomercial network and a mysterious channel 8 that is never on air. Continue reading
Maine Things: Fall Foliage
4 Nov
I arrived up in Maine at the perfect time: late August. Late August when daily high temperatures are still hovering around 90 degrees. Late August when you’d rather be outside and feel the breeze and smell red-hot the grills sizzling. Late August when the skies are blue, and the forests are green.
Fall comes here in Northern Maine about three weeks earlier than I’m used to. The leaves on the trees start turning in early September. It’s a slow and gradual process, and because of the climate, the sequence seems to go by so quickly. Continue reading
Chapter 7: Northern Lights, Midwestern Naiveté
28 Oct
“Is this ok to eat?” I asked the chef standing near the grill.
He snickered to himself, and said, “Oh yeah. It’s good isn’t it.”
“Mm hmm,” I murmured mid-bite.
It was terrific. It was salmon. Fresh North Atlantic Salmon to be exact, and it was delicately seared on the outside and raw in the middle. The chef told me that’s the best way to serve it. He could tell I wasn’t from around here, and that I’d been eating less-than-fresh and overcooked seafood all my life. It made the three-hour stop in Portland all the more worth it.
It was the major stop on a six and a half hour drive from Boston to Presque Isle, and just the welcome to Maine moment I was looking for. Although, the billboard just across the border was a tremendous sigh and sign of relief as I entered the Pine Tree State. Continue reading
Chapter 5: Head East
14 Oct
“Have you ever fired a gun before?” Alex asked.
I’d never seen a gun discharged before, let alone held one and unleashed its force.
Hesitantly, I accepted the invitation to head back to the range and fire a few rounds once I reached my cousin Rachel and her husband Alex’s house just south of Detroit. I was to spend the night there before continuing on to Boston the next day. In six hours, I’d be bustin’ caps, as the kids like to say.
That thought wasn’t really on my mind, though, as I began my 3 day 1,400 mile journey from Chicago to Presque Isle. I was more worried about the canvas-covered load of furniture and possessions that was in the truck bed of the Ford F-150 I was driving. I had about 19 bungee cords securing the tarp, so I figured my coffee tables and Rubbermaid containers would be ok. The important stuff I had packed in the cab anyways. And boy was it full. Continue reading
Chapter 2: The Interview
23 Sep
“May I give you a blessing for your travels?” he said.
I was about to embark on quite possibly the most significant trip in the quarter century I’d been alive. I needed all the good graces I could get.
“Absolutely!” I replied.
This is a Cassock
So the young ex-marine-turned Catholic priest from the Order of St. Peter laid his hands upon me in Terminal B of Charlotte’s Douglas International Airport and asked the Lord to give me a safe and successful journey.
I spotted Fr. McCambridge hours earlier in his long black cassock while we were standing in line to board at O’Hare. I didn’t much care that I cut a few folks in line to seek him out. Etiquette be damned, I was on a mission. Continue reading
Chapter 1: Fielding the Call
16 Sep
“Hi is this Jacob?”
“Yes,” I replied in a puzzled half-asleep stupor. I was just waking up and the call was coming from a 907 area code.
“Monte Bowen, KTVF in Fairbanks. I’ve got a couple questions for you…”
“Uhm sure”
What’s going on? Who’s Monte Bowen? Why is he calling me at 11:15 on a Monday morning? Where is the 907 area code? Wait a minute, Fairbanks… Alaska? Holy crap, those were call letters weren’t they. Is this a…
Before I could even grasp what was going on Monte bombarded me with questions. How’d you become interested in Alaska? Do you do sports or just news? Does the cold bother you? When can you move up here? Would you be bringing a spouse, significant other or pet with you? Would you expect us to pay for the move?
Whoah, whoah, whoah, Monte. Slow down. I don’t think you realize that I have no idea what’s going on. Continue reading
Jake Berent 
