Well, my daughter Julia and I just got back from a road trip to Maine. She had to visit a pair of recruits up in Topsham, Maine, which is very close to my old haunting grounds. A little further down 201 from Mount Ararat High School sits the old cabin where we'd spend our summers on the Cobbeseecontee Stream back when I was a kid. By the way, Mount Ararat is a town or two over from the shipyards of Bath.
Watching the lacrosse game was cold, but the reception Julia received was warm. The parents were all very kind. They even offered to put us up for the night. We decided rather to stay at a fifty dollar a night motel and make the rounds of the local night spots. This meant watching hockey and red sox baseball at the Sea Dog brewery sitting by the rapids of the Androscoggin river. Back in the day, this was the location of a paper mill. We also watched Celtics basketball at Joshua's in Brunswick, just a short walk from Bowdoin College.
Though she's twenty-two, my daughter could easily pass for a thirteen year old. We made quite a pair. Still, we both ended up getting hit on by locals. Some half crazed guy who talked to himself approached Julia, while a married little league dad who had imbibed a little too much became unusually friendly towards me. It made for a lot of giggles. We had a great old time.
On the trip back, we made major hauls at the outlet stores both in Freeport and Kittery, coming home tired but with a lot of cool stuff. And now, alas, it's back to the same old, same old.