Thursday, October 8, 2009

i love maine

And somehow, I have always known that I loved Maine. I just hadn't met it yet.

It was so much. so much

When you first drive into Maine, the AM radio stations warn against venturing out into the great state unprepared, and if you are lost in the wild vast cold overnight, build a fire and shelter where you are.. that way you have the best chance of being found. AM radio in Florida reminds us to be prepared in Hurricanes, here it is freezing to death.

We were far far away from home.

And we loved it.

As I may have mentioned before, our camera was out of juice, so our first stop in Biddeford was not captured. but... it was the best night, the best venue, the best musicians we played with, the best venue owners. Just wonderful and wonderful and wonderful.

Loving Anvil <-- the owner's other store. There names are Coco and Gil and their little girl. They used to have a barn they would host shows in their back yard... it used to be a hogfarm. Now they have another venue in downtown Biddeford

Computer at Sea <-- Amazing circuit bending magician, he played second
Run On Sentence <-- The third act... pure folk amazemnt with spice and spite and love and beats.

The next day we were reluctant to leave Biddeford. We never wanted to leave Maine at all, the winter would eventually force us out, running and screaming and freezing.
So we opted to get more batteries for the camera and hang around for the art festival that day. All the vendors in town have a piece of side walk for which to chalk. Lots of artists and vendors working together to color the streets.

One artist didn't show up, we were the next best thing.

I did my best rendition of an octopus... and friendly spider. While I was struggling with more chalk on my hands than on the concrete, an observer approached. An older gentleman with white hair and strong irish dialect.

He invited us into his restaurant to see a mural he had contracted 16 years ago. We made small chit chat as we was not yet open and not busy. Then he asks us to sketch a shamrock out front of his pub.. and in exchange... a Guinness.

If you look very carefully, you can see the shamrock in the foam. Not just any Guinness mind you. This pub owner... Vince.. or as he is otherwise known by the fair town of Biddeford... the Silver Fox... he is a certified Guinness pourer with awards and a plaque on the wall to prove it. He knows his stuff. He knows that this drink is best served just 2 degrees warmer than normal kegs. He knows the proper pour. He knows that the only way to really taste the Guinness is to drink all the way to the 'draught' in the first long drink you take. (thats the bottom line of the Guinness label). But I didn't know these things, until he told me. Chad had walked out of the room for a minute to wash the chalk off his hands... that is when the Silver Fox emerges.

Now I have never really drank Guinness, Melody bought me one one time. It was good, but kinda thick.. little heavy and dark for me.

So here I am, Alone in the company of the Silver Fox in his establishment, which is well known for the BEST Guinness in the North East... He is watching expectantly for me to take one third of this perfect black beer into my esophagus and stomach all at once.

Bottoms up.

It was amazing.

It was the smoothest deepest drink I've ever had.

And he was right.

The only way you really taste it is to feel it going all the way down.

We had a wonderful afternoon with Vince. When it came time to say goodbye he didn't hesitate to lavish kissed on my cheeks.... that fox.

With our cheeks rosy we wandered to the old mill that is now an art compound.

We found this around the corner through an open darkened door.

Its a man on top of a mountain, jutting through the floorboards, surrounded by trees and birds above

We did have to be getting on our way to Lewiston Maine for a Saturday night show at a venue called "She doesn't like Guthries"

But first we stopped in Portland, the lesser of the 2 portlands.
We were hunting for cheap, greasy, fried seafood. The kind that only a port city can provide... preferably on some kind of windy wharf.

But no such luck. Everything remotely seafood related was upwards of $10 at a sit down restaurant. We left hungry, but just as well. We were fed in Lewiston, a treated to an amazing band called

You can't tell very much from darkened club pictures, but these kids were amazing. We are so happy to share horror stories of the road.

I love meeting these types of musicians. its so important as it is the only community we have... other travelers. Whenever we see their sticker in venues we are happy to know our friends have been here before us. Comforted really.

I hope we see Graph again.

The owners of this venue took us home as well. We spend the night in their HAUNTED BASEMENT!!

All night, unexplained noises and movements kept occurring in the room, waking us from sound sleep. Chad had pretty violent night terrors. (he has these when we are in strange unfamiliar situations, or when he is stressed out about something). He'll wake up (but still be asleep) and start ranting about something, very distressed. Squeezing my arm, sometimes choking, sometimes spitting. He hasn't done it in awhile. But under the circumstances it was understandable. Especially because I would wake up and be scared and just stare at him in the dark... that'll freak anybody out.

In the morning... and this is the best part... I'm just kinda laying around waiting for him to get out of the shower so we can be on our way and our of these people's hair...

When he comes out of the bathroom, he's wearing a towel... the only towel he could find in the house... and he's wearing it on his head.

And i just lose it.

After my stomach stopped hurting from laughing so much we discovered that we had indeed awoken in the fall. A cold and wet day... it would be one of the most beautiful drives as we headed into Vermont toward Burlington.
(that photoshoot will be posted tomorrow... its a great one)

my beautiful wonderful car stopped leaking coolant!

God damn I love Maine.
And as if it couldn't get any better, along our drive, (as we steadily grew hungrier and argued more and more intensely about where we would eat and if you make us go to Subway one more time I'll kill you and so forth and so on... ) it appeared.
Exactly what we had been looking for in Portland.
Fried Mother Fucking Clams!!

And they were actually pretty gross.

Yeay! But it was so much fun to eat them!

Very shortly after we finished our completely fried meal... we went on a diet.

If there was any doubt before it was squished this very minute:

I love this man.

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