Tag: America

Dan In Real Life

Helaine got to choose the movie Saturday night. This responsibility used to rotate, but she’s so much better than I am at picking – why bother!

We went to North Haven to see the ‘sneak preview’ of “Dan in Real Life,” starring Steve Carell.

Years ago, a sneak preview was really that – a sneak. You didn’t know what you were seeing until you got there. Not so now.

By and large movie studios ‘sneak’ movies they expect will produce strong word-of-mouth. That’s a good selling point for seeing a movie none of your friends have seen.

Helaine worried the theater might be sold out, so on my way back from Yale, I stopped in to purchase tickets. It was less than half full. She’s better at picking flicks than guessing the gate.

“Dan in Real Life” is an emotional movie. We were primed before it even began. The coming attractions featured a trailer for “The Bucket List,” starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman.

We both cried like babies!

It was only a two and a half minute trailer. I’m bringing a box of Kleenex if I see the full film!

“Dan in Real Life” is the story of Dan Burns, (Steve Carell) a widower, raising three daughters. Family Affair, Courtship of Eddie’s Father, My Three Sons, Andy Griffith, The Rifleman, Bonanza… I’ve seen widowers and their children before.

It seemed like a plot device in those TV shows. It rang true here.

While at a family reunion in Rhode Island&#185, Dan meets Marie (Juliette Binoche). It’s a chance meeting at a bookstore, but there’s an immediate connection.

They part, only to run into each other again almost immediately. She is Dan’s brother’s girlfriend, also invited to the family weekend!

This is a story without a lot of surprises. The kids are cute and witty. His parents are level headed and supportive. Dan’s life, already in emotional upheaval from the death of his wife, is put on a spit over an open flame and turned.

There is little that doesn’t unfold as you expect.

A movie doesn’t have to be surprising to be good. Satisfying is enough. “Dan in Real Life” satisfies.

Carell’s Dan is a man worthy of empathy. Binoche’s Marie was worldly, attractive and cast as a love interest in a movie, without being fifteen years younger than the man the man she’s attracted to. For the record, Carell is 45, Binoche is 43!

Also in the cast, Dane Cook (annoying in this film, as I find him in real life), John Mahoney and Dianne Wiest. It’s a large supporting cast and mainly peripheral to Dan and Marie.

The concentration of sobs per minute was greater in the pre-show trailer for “The Bucket List,” but there was plenty of crying here too. There were lots of funny moments as well.

Good choice by Helaine again. I hereby forfeit my next turn as the Fox Family decider.

&#185 – Amazingly, no one spoke with a Rhode Island accent. In my opinion, it is the harshest accent in America, making Bostonians sound as if they’re from Nebraska.

Plane Talk About The Flight Home

We’re on our way home from Las Vegas. I’m typing this from 39,000 feet somewhere over the vast void that is the middle of America.

Helaine obtained a late checkout, so we left the hotel at 2:30, heading first to refill the rental car and then return it to the “Giant Rental Car Building,” newly opened south of the airport. All the car rental companies share this facility and the shuttle buses that leave every few minutes. This part of the experience, coming and going, was painless.

Oh – there is one thing. Our car had Sirius Satellite Radio. We discovered that sometime around day five and quite by accident. Since Dollar pays for it, and I wanted to use it, you’d think there would have been a placard or sticker advertising its availability. Even when I hit the right button (by mistake) there was only a hint of what I’d unlocked.

We did get to hear a little Nina Blackwood, Martha Quinn, Mark Goodman and former Philly favorite, Michael Tierson. I always had a thing for Martha.

Sunday afternoon at McCarren Airport is a medley of your favorite lines. We stood in line to get our baggage weighed and tagged. We stood in line for security. Helaine stood in line for food. And, of course, we sat in line to get our choice of seats on the plane.

AMAZING, BUT TRUE STORY ALERT: As we checked in, the agent asked for our heaviest bag first. On the scale it went. Southwest only allows (in my family the word ‘only’ must be included) 50 pounds per bag. The bag weighed 49.95 pounds! When the agent put the tag on the bag, the weight rose to exactly 50.00 pounds. None of us had ever seen anything like it.

This was probably the last time we’ll be sitting on the floor, holding our place in line, in the Southwest terminal. Next month they unveil a new, modified boarding system which will reward those who are anal retentive and get their boarding passes within the first few minutes after they become available. The punctual will then get their choice of the best seats!

From the cockpit, this is the pilot.” How many times do you want to hear those words on a flight?

Why ask?

We wanted to sleep. He wanted to speak. “Folks, it’s going to be bumpy over the Rockies.” “Folks, we’re over the Rockies and it’s bumpy.” “Folks we’re passed the Rockies and I’m turning off the seat belt sign.”

There were a few more announcements. I forget exactly what they were, except Iowa City was off to the left during one and “we’re over Chicago,” on the other. The “peddling as fast as we can” line was only funny the first time.

Considering the hour of this flight, I’m surprised the cabin lights were never dimmed. Though, with chatterbox driving, the point was probably moot.

Our flight left Las Vegas 45 minutes late. The plane was there on time, but we waited for connecting passengers from Oakland. Having been on the receiving end of that kind of largess in the past, I didn’t mind being on the giving side tonight.

All Southwest flights are in 737s. It’s funny how times have changed, because Southwest now uses that as a selling point in its ads. You never fly in a little plane on Southwest. A few years ago, when the domestic carriers used wide bodied jets of many more routes, Southwest’s claim would have been laughed off the TV. Now, when the alternative is a 30, 40 or 50 seat regional jet, Southwest has a point.

I have spent much of the last few hours trying to figure out a way to allow fully reclining seats on a 737. Maybe if you remove the overhead bins and create an upper-lower configuration for the seats? There’s got to be a way, and whichever airline does it first, wins.

It’s 1:00 AM now. We’re still in the air. Will there even be baggage handlers when we arrive?

I so want to go to sleep.

Joshua Tree National Park

We had accomplished everything we set out to do in Palm Springs. And yet, we had one more full day. What to do?

I asked Larry in the hotel office. He’s done well suggesting two restaurants over the weekend. He did it again today, recommending Joshua Tree National Park.

We headed east on I-10. Once we passed Indio, the palm trees stopped and the desert became more scrubby and ugly. Joshua Tree was another 25 miles away.

I got off the freeway in Cottonwood, turned north and headed into the park.

Most national parks have a gate you go through… in essence a toll booth where the daily fee is collected ($15 per car). Not here. A friendly sign at the ranger station asked you to turn in and register.

The ranger asked me a few questions and then she proceeded to mark a map with sites appropriate for Helaine and me. Light hiking – OK. Scary heights – nope. Photo ops – please!

First stop was a stand of chollo cactus. These are particularly nasty plants, if you get near them. They pierce the skin easily and hurt like crazy. They’re called teddy bear cactus by some, “But don’t hug them,” the ranger had warned.

The chollo grow in a very compact stand. Where they grow, there are hundreds, but the area they inhabit ends sharply.

The rangers have created a path through the chollo. Lots of photo opportunities for me and an excellent chance to see this species up close for everyone. This was the prettiest part of the park.

Joshua Tree is nowhere near the prettiest park I’ve been in. I still wouldn’t have turned down the opportunity. It features broad valleys and meadows marked with the scrubby vegetation most of America’s deserts feature. The valleys are surrounded by mountains and often rocky outcroppings.

Of course there are also stands of Joshua Trees. From a distance, they resemble tree we might have in the northeast, but up close it’s instantly obvious they’re built for the desert. They grow 30-40 feet tall and can live a few hundred years.

Originally, I was going to drive in the southern park entrance, explore, then turn around and head home. The ranger suggested otherwise. We drove all the way through the park from south to north.

A few miles from the exit, I stopped to photograph some interesting rocks. It wasn’t until I really looked closely that I realized a man and woman were rappelling the rock face!

I moved close enough to hear him shout instructions down to her. Maybe she was his student? This was an interesting place for a classroom and scary enough for Helaine to look away.

If you’re one of the rappellers and somehow find your way here, drop me a line. I’d be thrilled to send you the higher quality original files I have.

We exited the park in the town of Joshua Tree, CA. Without the National Park Service to protect it, the land was speckled with buildings and other artifacts of 21st Century life. It was not pretty at all.

We turned west, headed into Yucca Valley and then down a long steeply descending road into the Morongo Valley. Before long we were back here in Palm Springs.

As a kid, national parks were totally foreign to me. Even if given the chance, I probably would have said no. It takes a certain personal seasoning (in other words, age) to go somewhere and just enjoy those things that make it different and distinct.

That’s what we did today.

Joshua Tree isn’t my favorite national park, but it was well worth our time this beautiful early fall afternoon.

My Presentation

I took my hurricane presentation up to the American Radio Relay League this afternoon. The ARRL is the ‘mothership’ for ham radio in America. It’s located into Newington, under an hour north of the house.

I don’t want to do it too often, but I enjoy the opportunity to present before a live audience. The response is totally different than what you get on TV (obviously).

I have certain expectations. There are times when I hope for laughs, other times when I’m looking for attentive silence. Much of what I do is similar each time. The reaction isn’t always the same.

I used to find that puzzling. What I’ve come to realize is, audiences are different. That’s especially true with school audiences. There is an institutional personality that can guide everyone in the room to conform. That’s bad much more often than it’s good.

Today’s audience was very attentive and kind in their response. A friend in the audience commented later that my presentation didn’t have a tidy conclusion and payoff.

Unfortunately, he’s right. My subject is hurricanes and New England. There’s no neat payoff because a major hurricane up here (ala 1938) would be catastrophic. We’re not prepared in any sense of the word.

My story asks lots of questions but offers few answers.

Censoring The Emmys

I watched the Emmys tonight. Helaine recorded it, knowing we’d be home after 8:00.

Boy there are a lot of people on TV I don’t know!

With the show over, I have two questions. Is Ryan Seacrest the right guy to be host? And, why were there three obvious edits to censor material?

Seacrest first. I remember him on CNet TV. He was a correspondent on the show Richard Hart hosted. He was fine.

Am I surprised he’s hosting a huge, killer hit like American Idol? Absolutely. But he’s fine as a straight host.

No cheap jokes, please.

The Emmys normally have an entertainer as host. I don’t see Seacrest in that role. In fact, as the show opened up, Ray Romano basically took over the host’s job of doing a monologue.

That brings me to point two. Why was Roman censored? This was more than a beep. The full video feed cut away.

I’ve seen Ray Romano in person. He is not a blue comic. Even if he said a ‘curse,’ I’m convinced it wouldn’t have offended my mom or her mom (though it’s a little late to ask my grandma).

The same cutaway thing happened to Katherine Heigl and Sally Field.

Actually, with Heigl they didn’t cut away soon enough and so America got to see her mouth the word “shit.” Crude and inappropriate as it is, I’ve never understood why shit is considered a curse word. It has little to do with the more sexually oriented words that can get a network fined… or worse.

I believe Sally Field got pulled for saying goddamn. It’s not polite to say goddamn. It’s never been my choice to say that word on TV. But it’s Sally Field for heavens sake.

I must be missing something? What could Sally Field possibly say that would injure me?

I believe it was Letterman’s staff who began the tradition of having weird intros to the comedy writing nominees. That’s something I now look forward to. I enjoy it a lot.

I also liked the nice eulogy for Tom Snyder, pieced together from contemporaneous remarks by late night talk show hosts. Tom liked adulation. He would have enjoyed that genuine emotion.

Jerry’s Seniors

It’s after 3:00 AM here in the East, but it’s late everywhere across America. I just turned on the Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy Telethon. Jerry’s nowhere to be found.

Please don’t get me wrong. MDA is a great charity. Helaine makes sure we give every year. But right now, this looks like “Parents Night” at my folks’ condo!

Currently hosting: Norm Crosby. Norm will be 80 in a few weeks.

Ed McMahon is there too. Ed is 84.

They both look great for their ages, but if I see either lick their lips one more time, I’ll scream. They both just act and sound old.

There’s music, but I don’t see any musicians nor Lou Brown, the perennial band leader. Maybe he’ll be on later. He’s 86.

Unfortunately, from a production standpoint, the telethon has a very dated look. It’s as if they haven’t caught on to the fact they’re competing in a 100+ channel environment, reaching viewers with remote controls at the ready. Having this geriatric crew as the face of the telethon only goes to reinforce that feeling.

B.B. King just appeared on a promo. He seemed sharper and younger than Ed and Norm, but even B.B. will 82 in a few weeks.

Year-by-year it’s harder for MDA to do what they do. Stations are reticent to pay to staff, then give away nearly a full day of airtime (and I suspect MDA might be paying to get on in some markets).

Here in Connecticut, the telethon moved from its long time home at WFSB to WTIC. A decade ago, that switch would have been unthinkable. It was a high profile event on Channel 3 with their front line anchors hosting. I suppose telethons aren’t as special any more.

At some point MDA will have to make a decision to go younger. As long as the hosts are getting older, so will their audience. Over time, that becomes unsustainable on both ends.

News Porn

This afternoon, as I got out of bed, MSNBC, CNN Headline News and Fox were all carrying live helicopter coverage of a car chase on I-5 north of Los Angeles. I like to call this kind of stuff ‘news porn.’

The driver of the 1997 Saturn was wanted for suspicion of DUI (or so said the on-screen graphics). The car was doing the speed limit and staying within the lines on the Interstate.

I have no idea how this story ended. Time took its toll and I had to leave.

The story itself is so unimportant that there’s no real need to update America on what transpired. Which, of course begs the question – why cover it at all?

It all comes down to the definition of news. News used to mainly be about concepts and ideas. It is now much more event and celebrity oriented.

Events make for more compelling than nearly anything else… at least while the event’s in progress. Concepts are much more difficult a story to put on TV.

Events and celebrities are ‘low hanging fruit’ when you’re running a newsroom… even one that’s covering the entire nation.

I am sure this unimportant story was a much bigger draw than anything else these three networks could have chosen to run. It will be interesting to see how CNN’s main channel (running CNN International at this time) did in the ratings versus the other three.

I’ll admit, I couldn’t turn away.

How can I chastise these networks for what they ran when it was my own viewing choice? It’s easy to be critical. It’s much more difficult to be angry while they’re being practical.

Continue reading “News Porn”

Ansel – My Hero

After blowing out of a poker tournament, Helaine and I headed to the Strip. We were going to Bellagio where I wanted to see the Ansel Adams exhibit.

I’m with you on this. Las Vegas is the wrong place for America’s foremost nature photographer. On the other hand, I’m here and it’s here!

As a photographer, how can he not be a god to me? His displayed work did not let me down. Not every print was genius, but there were more than enough for a lifetime’s work.

It was interesting to listen to the narration (you are given an audio ‘wand’ to listen to), especially when it was Adams’ own words describing the circumstances of a shot.

I was a little disappointed, because I wanted more technical disclosure. Adams kept notes. I wanted to know if a shot was a 3 second F4.5 or 1/30 F11. Why did he make his choices? How did the darkroom affect his finished product?

Now I’ll go look for that info, because it’s surely on the net somewhere.

Hooked On Consumerist

When it comes to customer/retailer disputes, the customer isn’t always right. Unfortunately, often times he is, after the sale, when consumers have almost no leverage.

Maybe that’s why I’ve become hooked on reading consumerist.com. It’s a guilty pleasure, like reading about Paris Hilton or sneaking a candy bar from the bag left over from Halloween (you think this is a surprise to anyone in the Fox house?).

I am often amazed by the reported (not verified) outlandishly bad behavior of America’s big merchants. And believe me, some of this is pretty mean.

On the other hand, I also see consumer weasels trying to game the system and then getting upset when they don’t succeed. Reading their letters of complaint makes my blood boil. Consumerist often treats them as legitimate complainers, though I wouldn’t.

Business weasels seem to outnumber consumer weasels. Again, remember where the leverage is after the sale.

I am curious how big business looks at sites like this? All of a sudden, the Internet has made one person’s word-of-mouth louder and opened up publishing to nearly anyone. Bad customer experiences trying to cancel AOL’s service, get a cable TV problem fixed, or expose customer neglect by airlines have been well documented with pictures and sound.

Do big businesses weigh the cost of this bad publicity and if so, how much weight is given to sites like this? Is someone from Cingular or Home Depot or any one of the sites often mentioned reading Consumerist as part of their job?

I can tell you from experience, no official has ever responded when I’ve written about a product or service I was dissatisfied with – but this blog gets minimal traffic.

‘Buzz’ has created today’s celebrities. It’s also responsible for web hits like YouTube, Craigslist and MySpace, which seemingly grew without organized promotion (at best with minimal promotion). Can buzz injure established brick and mortar companies too?

Read at your own peril. The site is addictive.

Pi Day

I’ve seen stories on CNN and ABC&#185 and heard a radio piece on NPR’s “All Things Considered” about “Pi Day.” It’s “Pi Day” because today is 3-14 and Pi is 3.14.

OK – it’s really an infinite string of digits, but 3.14 usually covers it.

What surprised me was the multitude of Pi stories on-the-air today. Is there a Pi PR firm? Does Pi have media savvy? Why this year and not others? Has America developed a thirst for math?

I doubt it. It wasn’t that many years ago Steffie referred to the Pi symbol as a ‘foot stool.’

My knowledge of Pi doesn’t go very deep – 3.1415926. Others can recite the non-repeating sequence of digits by the thousands. In this case there’s no jealousy.

&#185 – Bill Blakemore, the ABC reporter on this story, claimed he could recite Pi to 50 digits. It’s no world record, but has to be one for TV reporters.

Idle Time For Idol

It’s possible I’m the only one in America who can say this, but I’ve never watched American Idol! Six seasons, hands down number one show, but no views from Geoff. That I work nights has a lot to do with it, I’m sure.

Actually, Steffie was in the audience a few seasons back and in the first row. I watched some of that show.

Tonight, with the night off from work, I sat with Helaine and took it all in.

This was one of the prelim shows when Idol wannabes audition. I just can’t imagine the winnowing process before they get in the room with the cameras.

I saw some high five figure numbers on the tags they wear. That’s a lot more than Simon, Randy and Paula can see.

I’d heard about the audition shows and thought the people who are really bad know they’re really bad and are just trying for their 15 minutes of fame. Now I’m not so sure.

There were some very sweet people who thought they could sing. They could not.

I also got to see a little more of Ryan Seacrest and was more favorably impressed than I expected. He seems genuinely nice. The entrants find him approachable – a telling sign and valuable for anyone on TV.

Based on what I saw in front of the judges, and the other auditions winners who only got a few seconds on camera, it’s obvious this is a vocal and physical contest. If you’re a good looking girl with a nice body, your chances seem improved.

In that regard, American Idol doesn’t differ from the rest of life. Being attractive helps.

I am impressed with Simon Cowell. Usually, people who are typecast try to break out. That’s doubly true when your fame is based upon something so simple to do.

Not he. Simon seems more than pleased to be dour and spiteful and irritable, even though I’m quite sure it’s mainly an act.

I understand why this show hooks people. It will not hook me. No DVR slot for Idol. I am, however, glad I watched.

PR Coup In The Big Apple

If you believe what was breathlessly reported in the entertainment press, then 20 year old Miss USA 2006 Tara Connor, had been drinking, doing drugs and making out with another woman. Donald Trump, owner of the Miss USA pageant, thought that might be bad for business.

This is the same Donald Trump who’s ex-wife, Marla Maples, said, “Donald Trump is the best sex I ever had.” Now he’s worrying a girl-girl make out rumor might injure his beauty pageant.

Donald? Hello?

Anyway, the original plan was to throw her out. Then, she and The Donald spoke. Today, her repentance was announced at a televised press conference in New York.

This was a PR coup – really! There is no way it could have been calculated to come off this well. This wasn’t turning lemons into lemonade, this was turning lemons into platinum.

Tara cried huge tears and looked innocent and vulnerable. Donald Trump looked warm and fuzzy&#185. It was on every TV newscast in America… quite possibly the world. It will be in every newspaper in the morning.

Watch the Miss USA ratings this year. Drugs, alcohol and the rumor of lesbian romance will erase any drop off in recent telecasts.

There is one part of the story that does bother me – rehab. I’m not saying rehab is a bad thing nor that she doesn’t need it. I have no personal experience, but the concept sounds efficacious.

I just worry rehab has become the last resort of scoundrels – a modern day ‘get out of jail free’ card. Look who’s gone recently!

Are they trying to rehabilitate people or a careers?

&#185 – OK – he always looks a little fuzzy, but this is different.

Rich Little Is Responsible For My Marriage

When I came downstairs this morning, Helaine mentioned she had read my last blog entry. “Rich Little is why we’re married,” she said.

I stopped for a second to ponder that line. Then it hit me. She’s right.

I’m going to try and tell this story, but there is a problem. A really good friend, someone heavily involved in this story, doesn’t want to be mentioned here. So be it.

This friend is a real show biz guy. For decades now, he’s been working with celebrities. If I were to mention the names, you’d recognize nearly all of them.

Back in the early 80s, my friend was producing for a Dick Clark series called “Inside America.” He followed Rich Little to Philadelphia on a promo tour. Rich was promoting an audio cassette – a comedy record. My friend was in charge of a crew taping Rich. They ended up at the radio station where Helaine worked.

Helaine was promotion director at WIOQ in Philadelphia, involved in coordinating Little’s on-air appearance.

Memories are a little hazy now, but somehow Helaine and my friend struck up a conversation and my name came up. I had worked in Philadelphia radio, meeting Helaine just a few weeks before I left.

By the way – Rich Little’s involvement in this story ended a few paragraphs back.

That evening, I spoke with my friend. He told me about this girl in Philadelphia, Helaine, who still remembered me – and he said I should call her.

So that’s how Rich Little put me back in tou… Yeah, OK. I’m leaving something out.

My friend told me to call, and I did. But I called four months later! Maybe four months is charitable. I didn’t call for a long time… a really long time.

Like a typical, foolish guy, I thought there was something suspect about any girl who might like me. I was an idiot. I nearly let her slip away.

In a few weeks we celebrate our 23rd anniversary. Maybe we need to send something to Rich Little and my unnamed friend.

How I Became A Maine-iac

Here’s the setup. I had vacation time I needed to take (and there’s more where that came from). So did my friend Bob from North Carolina. Neither of us wanted to spend much money, but he had a plan.

If we went on vacation to Maine, he could do some work for a radio station that carries his syndicated morning show, and we could visit Maine on the cheap. Anyway, he loves Maine and is very attached to the radio station in Bangor where he’s been heard for 10 years.

We made our plans, such as they were.

We’d drive up to Maine on Sunday and stay until Wednesday. I needed to be back in time to hand off the camera, “Clicky,” to Helaine and Stef who were going to a concert.

In return for Bob’s on-air visit, the station would arrange a place for us to stay. This was the first in what would be a string of incredible luck and good fortune that marked our trip.

Bob flew up from Charlotte, and we left midday Sunday. Though my car’s a convertible, you can’t drop the top when the trunk’s full – and it was full. That’s OK. Our 415 mile, six hour fifteen minute, trip was a little long for that much wind noise. And, as it turned out, once we got to Maine, the top stayed down!

We drove through Connecticut, into Massachusetts and then onto the Mass Pike. We exited near Worcester and then headed northeast into the Merrimack Valley and New Hampshire. From there, we paralleled the coast, without seeing it, on I-95.

Maine is a big state. Once you’re north of Portland, there is little but trees to see. We watched for moose!

Off the Interstate, we drove east toward Mt. Desert Island. It sounds foolish when you first say it, but it’s pronounced “deh-ZERT.”

The topography of Mt. Desert Island was set into motion as the Earth’s tectonic plates collided to form mountains. It’s only in the last tens of thousands of years that the true lay of the land was set by the advance and retreat of glaciers.

It’s an island – you expect to see water. There’s more than you expect! The island was scoured by glaciers, which formed lots of lakes, harbors and Eastern United States’ only fjord!

Our home was in the town of Southwest Harbor. More succinctly, it was on Southwest Harbor.

Because of the shape of the harbor, it has wide tide swings. High and low tide can sometimes be separated by 10-15 feet! For the tidally deprived, that’s a difference in depth. The actual water’s edge can, and does, retreat by hundreds of feet.

Our landlord/hosts were Mary Jo and Rhonda. They own the house we were in, one next door and another home well inland. They could not have been friendlier or more gracious.

Let me stop here and say, everyone was friendly and gracious. This wasn’t because I’m TV-boy, or because Bob has been on the radio for a decade. People on Mt. Desert Island and everywhere else we were in Maine were just nice.

The perfect example came later in the trip. We were on a tiny island – only 75 full time residents. I was in the general store looking for Chapstick. No luck. As I was about to walk out, a woman approached me, handed me one, and said it was in her purse, unopened.

I offered to pay for it, but she said (and this is an exact quote), “It’s my good deed for the day.” To me, that one sentence typified Mainers.

Our house was interesting, in that it was bigger inside than out. Built like a boat, it had slightly low ceilings and no wasted space.Upstairs there were three bedrooms. The two Bob and I used each had large picture windows that opened onto the harbor.

The bathroom was compact as well. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but I’ve never been in a shower so small you had to be under the water at all times.

After unpacking, we headed to Cadillac Mountain. Cadillac is inside Acadia National Park, and at 1,500 feet above sea level, offers an amazing view in all directions.

While we waited for the Sun to set, we looked around. The air was clear and clean and richly blue. Below us were Bar Harbor and a number of coastal islands. Holland America’s Amsterdam was leaving port, continuing its New England/Canada itinerary.

We left the mountain and drove into Bar Harbor. With only 5,000 or so permanent residents, it is definitely a tourist town. However, don’t think honky tonk.

This is Mt. Desert Island. There are no 7-Eleven’s, McDonald’s, Starbucks or any other franchise or (shudder) big box stores. It is 1950s America as depicted on sitcoms – all white (97.88%), all Christian, all industriously hearty.

We had to get up early (for me) on Monday. Bob was going on the radio from a natural foods supermarket over 50 miles away. This would be the beginning of the “Fatiguing of Geoff.”

Getting up early is no problem. It’s the getting to bed early part I can’t hack. Day-by-day that took its toll.

The appearance was Bob’s. I was just an appendage. Still, I was impressed with how he handled himself and the genuine affection of the listeners who came by.

On Sunday’s arrival I had discovered my laptop’s PC card slot was no longer functioning. That meant no Internet! There was, however, an Internet Cafe in the market. This would be my only time online during the vacation.

It’s tough to remember each and every thing we did, and in the proper order, but we visited nearly every inch of the island and its three main towns: Bar Harbor, Southwest Harbor and Northeast Harbor.

We also ate lobster. I’m not talking one meal here. We ate lobster twice each day – lunch and dinner.

Lunch was a lobster roll. Think chicken salad on a hot dog bun, but substitute lobster for the chicken! Dinner was boiled lobster.

It doesn’t take long to understand lobster is a major employer on Mt. Desert Island. It’s not some ‘photo op’ touristy thing. You see men, and at least one woman I saw, scurrying about on stubby lobster boats nearly every time you see water.

Lobster buoys, the makings of the prototypical Downeast Maine photo, are everywhere. Yes, they’re hung on walls and piled on docks, but any stretch of water deep enough for lobsters has hundreds, sometimes thousands of traps marked with buoys.

Though surrounded by water, Mt. Desert Island is not a bather’s paradise. The water is too damned cold, even during the height of the season, when it’s in the low 50&#176s!

Even if the water was warmer, there is only one sandy beach – Sandy Beach! The rest of the coast is speckled with large rock outcroppings, and crashing surf.

We spent part of one afternoon at Sandy Beach and Thunder Hole – both are in Acadia National Park. Thunder Hole is a natural rock formation which, when conditions are right, produces 30-40 foot tall columns of sea spray accompanied by thunderous booms.

Though Hurricane Florence was passing off to the east, and we came before and stayed through high tide, Thunder Hole was silent.

On Wednesday, our last day, we took the mail boat past the Bear Island Lighthouse to Islesford on Little Cranberry Island. This tiny community has a permanent population of 75.

At first, I thought it was neat to be an interloper in their little society. Then I thought, do they feel as if they’re zoo animals on display? Wherever reality lies, I felt welcome and I loved the island!

It is small enough to transverse on foot. Bob and I followed an unmarked road to a lonely stretch of rocky beach. We turned around and walked, cross island, to an art gallery.

It didn’t take long to figure out there was something strange about the island’s vehicles. Most homes had a car or truck parked outside – a very old car or truck.

When the island’s tiny, your car’s engine will never wear out. However, the exterior is another story. Exposed to salt air 24/7/365, the finish dims and sometimes rust pokes through.

This was a great trip with a great friend – a guy I met my first day as a professional broadcaster, over 35 years ago.

The trip itself was better than the sum of its parts. Yes, Maine is spectacularly beautiful – possibly the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.

It was more beautiful because the Sun was strong each day, the temperatures mild, the stars very bright. I might not have enjoyed it as much if it hadn’t cooperated with me. Still, that’s an outcome I didn’t have to worry about.

I shot over 1,000 photos on this trip. Some of them illustrate this entry. There are nearly 180 more in my online photo gallery. I hope you get a chance to take a peek.

Mel Gibson

I am very troubled by what I am reading of Mel Gibson’s drunk driving arrest. The web pages I’ve read, quoting police reports, say he was abusively anti-Semitic.

I’ll let you find the exact text elsewhere. Even in the proper context, I don’t want it on my blog.

Gibson later issued an apology, including this:

“I acted like a person completely out of control when I was arrested, and said things that I do not believe to be true and which are despicable. I am deeply ashamed of everything I said.

Saying, “I didn’t mean to step on your foot,” is one thing. Saying I didn’t mean to say a very specific accusation against Jews is another. And, it would have been just as wrong if leveled against African-Americans, Hispanics, Catholics… any religious or ethnic group.

As I understand it, being drunk&#185 can remove inhibitions. Was this something Gibson always felt, but was usually smart enough to keep to himself? That, of course, is my fear.

I’m not sure how one rehabilitates one’s self from something like this. Maybe you just can’t. Maybe Mel Gibson is done. He’s certainly done to me.

&#185 – Though I know this moves me out of America’s mainstream, I have never been drunk. In a ‘good’ year, I’ll have Bailey’s four or five times. That’s the extent of my imbibing.