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Anniversarah
As of tomorrow, it will be one year to the day since the Special Lady Friend and I arrived in Maine, fresh off our 4,300 mile odyssey, moving back from Seattle. (Although, if you want to be pedantic about it, this is a leap year, so technically today is exactly 365 days. Luckily, I am not pedantic.)
It’s been an eventful year. Since setting up shop back on the East Siiiide, I’ve
- Gotten married
- Changed careers
- Reached the statistical halfway point of my expected lifespan
- Cheered for not one, but two championships by professional franchises from my general geographic area, which of course covers me in vicarious, unearned glory
- Been bitterly disappointed by a third. (Yes, I realize I’m ridiculously spoiled. It’s not as if anyone from, say, Seattle would have any pity for me at all)
- Posted treasonous, objectively pro-Elitislamohomoliberofascist insults of Dear Leader on no fewer than 19 occasions (ok, so maybe that’s not a big change)
After being away from my home state for the better part of a decade, I can say it’s changed quite a bit. I used to curse the place for being too conservative and claustrophobic, but an interesting thing happened while I was gone: Mainers have loosened up quite a bit. There’s state-run health insurance for the poor, every 8th grader gets a laptop, the Green Party has official standing, marijuana laws are fairly lax, and George W. Bush is staggeringly unpopular, even in Kennebunkport.
In fact, given its large size, low population density, large swathes of pristine wilderness, and odd mix of rednecks and hippies, Maine less resembles its urbanized, overpopulated Northeast neighbors than a large, Western state.
Except, of course, that here, the sun rises out of the ocean, instead of setting in it. As it should be.
