BrilliantEditor and I are on vacation in Bar Harbor, Maine. The licence plates here have "Vacationland" written right on them. And who can argue with a licence plate?
We've been doing very Maine-like things. We've walked around the very cute town, visited the national park a few times. We've been to a museum of crafts of the Native Americans of Maine where we saw beautiful baskets of every imaginable variet, and some unimagined. There was a dog bed, for example.
That would be a lucky dog, indeed.
Of course, since we are vacationing with BrilliantEditor's family, we've had a series of fine meals and adventures. In four days we’ve been whale watching, seen the top of the highest peak on the eastern seaboard, gone on a carriage ride on property that used to belong to John D. Rockefeller, Jr., visited two bookstores, and eaten at four (soon to be five) restaurants. And I've tasted two blueberry pies and consumed a large quantity of Maine blueberries (the little tiny kind).
Maine's really beautiful. I like it here very much. It's beginning to feel very much like autumn, however. More than at home. And that makes me a little blue. I always feel a little blue when I realize that I couldn't really enjoy living someplace.
But I must confess that the blues are offset by the irritated reds. How can there be so many barely mobile old people in one place? A tiny town with about seven blocks of stuff to see plus a few water-front activities is overrun by hundreds of old people and young people and tourists of every shape and size (though noteably of one color—white, if you couldn't guess).
Yes, and the irony of my irritableness is that I am, of course, a tourist.
I put myself on a higher shelf than these goons, these t-shirt purchasing, moose-worshiping, fudge-eating gawkers. I am no goon! I purchase books, not t-shirts! I only adore moose! I eat real food!
And yet, I am a tourist.
Posted by dotty at September 10, 2003 10:20 PM