I met Rhonda Selvin in 1977 when we both worked at the Tugboat Inn. Rhonda was part of a talented restaurant waitstaff and I was the night janitor. Back then the thefood service area occupied the entire length of the building with seating for a ton of people. Also, back then, Tugboat Inn was owned by George McEvoy, Dan Derepentigny and Clem Brewer, an interestingly diverse trio.

Our daughters attended Sheepscot Valley Children’s House on Federal St. in Wiscasset in the early 1990s. That’s where we met (Miss) Ethel Stansfield. Recently we returned to the school, along with probably, at least 100 other folks to pay our respects, honoring Ethel and the gift she gave to us all. Ethel passed in July after some serious health challenges.

From my earliest years here in Maine, Monhegan has held an almost mystical fascination for me and ultimately my family. Every summer or fall someone in our circle of friends, members of our family or visiting guests makes a restorative visit to the island. It’s an almost imperative day trip, overnight, or longer stay.

It was not easy to schedule a visit with Alana LaCourse, recently crowned Miss Maine’s Teen. 

But between her very demanding commitments and my leisurely random sunbathing at the beach, we finally connected during a dance class at the YMCA annex. Unforeseen complications caused me to be a bit late for our meeting. Twenty minutes waiting at a long opening of the Southport bridge was followed by difficult access to the Y Annex while CMP worked on lines. Then I inappropriately walked through the construction site for which I was not awarded a gold star! Finally, I breached the perimeter and entered a large room full of dancing children learning new moves accompanied by famous Bruno Mars “Uptown Funk” music! Alana led the class with some pretty jazzy moves. 

Some of us are old enough to recall the phrase "the bee's knees." It's a comment, as far as I can tell, somewhat related to the little buzzers, but not entirely. There are a variety of explanations available, but the one with which I am most familiar suggests that the bee's knees refers to someone or something that is quite exceptional or very good. In my case, that's the one I'll run with.

Every summer in late July, when I was a kid, there was a county fair in the next town over from where we grew up in central Pennsylvania. It may very well have been the biggest event of the year in our part of the world. A major part of the festivities was the arrival of the James E. Strates Shows, the fourth largest carnival midway in the nation. It arrived by train in the middle of the night, on a railroad track that ran through the center of town. The coal trains that used the line were diverted until all the animals and equipment were unloaded. The empty train cars were set off onto a siding at a nearby rail yard until the end of the fair for reloading. This was huge for me. I got to go and stay with my grandmother for a week and attend the fair several times.

If you were ever even a little bit interested in “the way things used to be,” you really should visit Southport Historical Society’s wonderful collection of unique treasures at their home base museum. The historic 1810 museum building (Cameron House) was moved to its present location at 419 Hendricks Hill Road, from its original location on Ebenecook Road on Southport. The museum is open to visitors from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday in July and August with expanded Saturday hours during September. 

Attendees at the Boothbay Harbor Opera House Tim Sample Show got a good "Sample-ing" of Maine and local humor. According to Mr. Sample, it was the last performance in the town where he grew up. The Opera House was packed, and Tim did not disappoint. Old friends, family and a significant number of “people from away” put aside their cares in the world for an evening of joy-filled stories, observations and occasional music. I was somewhat saddened by the fact that there were no “skidders” parked in the woods adjacent to the Opera House. But that did not impact the clear picture Tim painted from early band performances up Kingfield way! 

For me, Windjammer Days brings back memories from some 50 odd years of witnessing this special event. There have been lots of changes, but fundamentally, it's a tribute to, by and for a coastal community connected to the seas for centuries and an historic tradition. 

Last week’s story about my memory and lost items has yielded some fascinating responses. I guess I’m not the only person with this unique assortment of tendencies. One reaction in particular was so wonderful that I wanted to share before launching into a new tale.