Back to school shopping...

   It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that school will be starting up within a few short weeks for most of the school aged children across the country. The kids are complaining about how fast the summer passed. Parents, on the other hand,  are complaining about how long the summer was this year, with seemingly more rainy days than usual and maybe fewer activities for the kids.

   The television air waves, the local newspapers and even my mailbox are filled with back to school advertising. And is the average cost to outfit a kid for 'back to school' actually $300+ this year? I mean really.... how much do a couple of notebooks, a pencil or two and a couple of erasers really cost. But then, back to school shopping has probably changed over the years.

   A small store on Main Street has decorated its front window with a back to school display. The display includes a new pair of jeans, a T shirt with some type of logo on the front, a bright blue fleece jacket, a notebook or two, a laundry basket, some laundry detergent and a couple of boxes of cookies and snacks. A laundry basket! Are kids doing their laundry at school now?

   As a former school administrator one of my favorite days of the year was the first day of school. The kids would arrive at the school yard very early, eager to see their friends and show off their new clothes, new sneakers.and brightly colored backpacks and exuding an excitement and enthusiasm that you wanted to “capture in a bottle” and save for later in the year, like February.

   It was easy to identify the parents of kindergarten students. In many cases the kids would jump out of the car or off the bus and race to the swings while the mothers and some fathers would stand in the middle of the driveway, tears streaming down their faces, hands waving goodbye as if for the last time ever, and the school custodian passing around boxes of tissues.

   All of a sudden, what they had come to realize was that their life and their child's life was going to change dramatically for at least the next twelve or thirteen years. For the first time, their son or daughter's future was now, not only in their hand, but was going to be 'shared' with the teachers and personnel at the school. ( And maybe the most important person, the one each child got to know first in school, the school secretary, of course!!)

   Although it has been many years since I was in school, out of a habit and maybe with a little bit of nostalgia I often will go 'back to school' shopping too. I usually only buy a new pair of sneakers to replace the ones I wore cutting the grass all summer, replacing those now a light shade of green from the grass and caked in mud.

   But 'perspective” and age has given me a somewhat different view of items to be included on a back to school list,  ones you won't find in any Target or WalMart circular. Maybe it's more of a 'commitment list' to insure that a son or daughter, a grandson or granddaughter, or the children in your community  receive the best education possible for the next twelve or thirteen years.

   First on my list is to show support, encouragement and interest each and every day. Like mom or dad going to work each day, your job, as  student, is to go to school and learn as much as you can. And if you don't get it all the first day, that's OK. You go back tomorrow and the day after and the day after.

    As a parent it is important to know that teachers are well trained, that learning is the primary goal for each student, regardless of their individual abilities and that each and every student is treated with respect, regardless of who they are or where they come from.

   As a parent (or grandparent), being involved in school activities, visiting or volunteering at school on a regular basis and talking each night about what happened that day tells your son or daughter that you care about what they are doing. After all, you  only have  the next twelve or so years for thos talks. After that, they  really are on their own.

   Take five minutes away from the television and the news to help solve the math problem. No calculators allowed with this one! So..... this is the new math!

   Find out who the bullies are. We all know schools have them. In fact, bullies are part of every day life, even at the office.Don't they learn that bullying skill in school? (That's a topic for another day.)

   Provide a place, a special place, that becomes their own, to study and do homework. Decorate it with pictures and items that become part of the positive school experience. No cell phones other electronic distractions here.

   And if there is no homework to be done? Fifteen minutes of reading may be a good substitute.

   No question...Back to school shopping can be fun, It is always nice to get new things and show off to our friends. Isn't that why we buy new cars? But the beginning of a new school year is more just about buying things and showing off. Here is a interesting idea and I would challenge any major chain or department store to accept the challenge......

   After mom or dad purchase some back to school clothing and/or supplies at the beginning of the school year, keep the sales receipt.Tack it to the refrigerator.  At the end of the ranking period, go back to the store manager, sales receipt in hand,  with a report card or a good report from the teacher or school, maybe an honor roll certificate. In turn, the store manager gives the student a $20 gift card toward the purchase of additional school supplies for the student and maybe one for the school too. School budgets are tight these days!

   It's easy to sit back now and pontificate about what should be done and not be done. Did I do everything right when my kids were in school? For sure ..NO! But  despite some things I might do a different way if I were to do it over again, each of our daughters has grown up to become very successful in their individual way and my wife and I are very proud of them. By taking an interest in your child's school experience, it  might produce the same results for you. 
   Perhaps the "back to school sales" could  serve as a reminder that while new backpacks and sneakers may be important, so is taking an interest in what goes on in the classroom each and every day.

   Now....... about those new sneakers. I like the red ones!!!!!!

Twelve words you may want to add to your vocabulary...

   What do you get when you combine a bit of British humor and word history? You get some very strange sounding but very descriptive words that may just deserve a place in today's world of fractured and misused American vocabulary.

   I can not take credit for the research of these words as an article literally popped up on my computer the other day under the category of 'Thought for the Day.” But after reading the article, I thought some of these words were worthy of sharing and if sharing isn't communicating, then you can call me a mumbudget.

   Haven't figured it out yet? Someone who might be considered a 'mumbudget' is one who keeps quiet, someone who doesn't talk much, say a great deal or use many words. Now I know that I can be pretty quiet at times, but a mumbudget?

   If someone calls you a fripperer, don't be offended. A fripperer is one who may spend their time on the weekend going to yard sales or at the local antique auctions, buying up old things and making them almost like new. There's about 150 of us, fripperers, who get together on Sunday mornings trying to outsmart and outbid each other for those “must have” items.

   After recently doing some repair to my lawn mower, my wife shouted to me from the basement. “You've done it again, You have another grinnow on this shirt and it won't come out.” A grinnow is a stain that  won't come out and …..yes I'll admit it, I have been known to splash a bit of oil or paint on some of my, hopefully, older clothes. But this one looks like it is going to join the rag pile!

   I had a bit of surgery on my knee the other day. As I sat in the sofa, recuperating from the event of the morning, Lucky, our family dog, knew something was not right. I had not taken him to the park for his afternoon run and I was still feeling a bit loobily. And yes, the word means pretty much how it sounds..... a bit awkward, uncoordinated, just plain loopy,

   Lucky, sensing my somewhat abnormal behavior, decided to snudge with me on the sofa for the remainder of the afternoon, curling up next to me and joining me for an afternoon nap. But he was bound and determined to rest his head on my knee. Maybe he thought it would help take the pain away.

   This little setback has forced me to be a bit flexanimous for the next few days, no biking, kayaking or jogging for awhile. This was an unexpected obstacle, a temporary curve ball you might say. But the key to someone who is 'flexanimous' is their ability to look at the bright side to things. What a great time to catch up on all those television shows we have been recording, and maybe a brief nap or two. And the lawn, it will have to wait a few more days before the next cutting. It will give the neighbors something to talk about.

   While doing a bit of shopping in the local food store, I literally ran into a friend with my shopping cart, a friend I had not seen for a while. As we spoke, he shared with me that he had changed jobs and picked up some extra work to help pay the bills. He had dropped off the social grid, working many extra hours per week, had not been on the golf course this summer yet and was “just plain exhausted. He had become a 'mucker'. Circumstances had forced him to lose his balance in life. Golf, seeing friends and spending time with his family had been taken over by increased work and earning money to insure he could pay the bills. And each morning, he tells me,  he wakes up before dawn and worries, worries about his family, his friends, his job. And the British had a word for that too.....uhtceare.

   Now we all know that through life, there have been people who have tried to undermine us at one time or another, often at work and most of the time we know who they are or were. Maybe they were jealous of something or wanted to make us look bad. But every so often we come across someone who is friendly and pleasant to our face, pretending to be a friend when, in reality, they were actually a secret enemy, a backfriend. Gives a different perspective to the expression that “the enemy you know may be better than the backfriend you don't know.”

   Speaking of enemies, as the summer begins to wind down, the political campaigns are beginning to get into full swing and the November elections are just weeks away now.

   There are some candidates running for office who are argute; meaning witty, sharp and very persuasive and very committed to those they serve. But unfortunately there are others who fall into the categories of shrewd and unprincipled. The early Brits referred to them as snollygosters. These folks, in addition to sometimes being mean and nasty, tend to be those who are constantly giving their opinions and beliefs on subjects they know either very little or nothing about, a practice called ultrcrepidarianism. Anyone you know? My biggest problem with ultrcrepidarianism is.... being sure to spell it correctly. ( Can you imagine trying to text message this word?)

   Over the years, regardless of the language or the country, words and expressions come and go and what we say and how we say it seems to change as often as the Maine weather. And the lesson here for all of us is to be just a bit more 'flexanimous.' Right!

Sometimes it's funny the things we remember.....

   As I was 'cruising' up and down the aisles of an upcoming auction I noticed a trend. Sure, there were the old items, the ones you would expect to see at an 'antique' auction. But there were items that I remembered as a kid, items not dating back to the later 1800's and early 1900's, but instead, the 1950's and 60's . I hope that doesn't make me an antique too. But I was surprised by how vivid and sometimes funny some of the memories were as I looked over a few of the items that would be up for sale.

   For example, there was a small Motorola record player, the one with the special attachment that was designed to play 45 rpm records, the hits of the day. I was not the first in the neighborhood to have one, but I remember I was pretty excited when I got one for my birthday.

   The case was brown leather and was special because, not only could it play 45s, it had a little switch that allowed it to play 33's, 45s and 78s. To this day, I still don't understand why there were so many different speeds. But it was fun to play  the 33s  at the 78 speed.

   I can still hear mother with her words of warning. “You're going to break it,” she would say. But it didn't break and the record player lasted for a few years. Eventually, I stepped up to the 'stereo system', with detachable speakers and all kinds of wires and its ugly white imitation leather case. Who owns a white stereo? I guess I did!

   But in today's music world, it's one size fits all, the CD, and even that is being replaced by downloads from “the cloud” to your telephone. Who knew back then  you would be listening to music on a telephone, a phone small enough you carried it in your pocket.

   Sticking with the music theme for a moment, I remember the first car we had with a radio that was 'factory installed'. Not all cars came with radios. It was a special add-on, just like the automatic transmission. And the car... a 1955 Plymouth station wagon, two tone color, white top and a 'sickly' green body and special bright shinny hub caps. What's a hub cap you might ask? (I think I remember the car having some kind of fins on it too. Looking back at pictures of the 1955 cars, they were really ugly!)

   A few aisles over from the record player was a stack of games. Old games have become popular items these day, especially if they are in the original boxes and in good condition. One of the games in the pile was an early version of a game called “Operation” It may have been one of the first early battery operated games but from the looks and condition of the game and box, someone may have forgotten to change or remove the batteries. Corrosion!

   I don't remember too much about how the game was played and I wasn't sure if the contents in the box was complete, with all the cards, etc, but I wonder how many doctors today got their inspiration by playing “Operation” at the kitchen table, grossing out their younger brothers and sisters. And don't we still have a form of the game 'in play' today? I think it's called Medicare!

   Prompting a childhood memory and still somewhat medically related.. I received a recent post to my Facebook page.....Share If You Remember This....”Mercurochrome”. Mercurochrome was a medicine cabinet requirement of all parents for cuts and other injuries and when applied to a cut, “it burned like hell'.

   Mercurochrome had other popular uses at the time as well. Being red in color, we used it as war paint, painting  our faces when playing cowboys and Indians, a game now consider politically incorrect, but not by everyone!

   I don't think you can buy Mercurochrome anymore, can you? And wasn't there something else called Merthiolate, that, when applied, caused similar pain, it not worse? And it took days and a great deal of scrubbing to wash off.

   Several weeks ago we purchased a box containing an old Girl Scout and Brownie outfit, with all the trimming, the buttons and pins, the hat and beanie. Judging by the age of the dresses, I would suspect that ...yes...today, the original owners of these dresses were probably pretty old, too old to be scouts.

   There was a time when scouting was a very popular activity for both boys and girls. It was a legitimate way to dress up in some type of uniform, memorize the Pledge of Alliance to the flag, sing “God Bless America” way out of tune, learn the skills for surviving on your own in the woods if you got lost and become a expert in sales, marketing and fund raising by selling pop corn or cookies.

   Whether it was Cub Scouts or Boy Scouts, Brownies or Girl Scouts, many of us joined. Even some of the 'cool' kids joined and we hoped their mother or father would pick us up and take us to the meeting so we could ride in their fancy new cars. Those kids always brought the best snacks to the meetings too and besides, it wasn't about going to a meeting, it was about getting out of the house for a while.

   (An aha moment here! The Girls Scout leaders in our town were always the young, good looking moms. I think I just figured out why, on the camping trips, the boys campsites and girls campsites were only a 'stones throw' from each other. Gives new meaning to the term 'naughty' to  troop leader'.)

   It is a bit strange what, where or when something will trigger one of those glorious or embarrassing memories about growing up. There are some we would like to forget and hope never to remember, like the swirly in the boys room for example (not me, of course), but looking back there are some that were quite humorous and can, even today,  bring the hint of a smile or chuckle when we might least expect it.

The beginning, the middle, the end.......

   Most of us probably didn't realize it... July 2^nd at 12:00 PM, noon. At that point in time and space, as in outer space I assume, we had completed the first half of the journey through 2014 and were about to embark on the second half. It was, according to the experts and those who follow some of the more mundane things  in life, the exact middle of the year. Exact? I knew something was up because as I prepared my lunch that day, I could just sense something was different, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Now I know! It was the middle of the year... a special day!

   Many of the things that happen to us in life have a beginning, a middle and an end and often, when we are at the middle, or halfway mark, it can be a comforting to know, or maybe not.

   Take, for example, a trip to the dentist. At some point, after what seems like hours with the dentist having his or her hands inside your mouth, he or she is likely to say...”I'm about halfway done, just a few more minutes.”

   Or perhaps you are in the middle of a well deserved vacation. The anticipation and expectations in the beginning were exciting, but you reach the mid point of your trip knowing that before long it will come to an end and your happiness and excitement is quickly replaced by thoughts of returning home, going back to work or even worse, realizing that it will be another year before you can get away from your crazy boss again.

   I like music but I am not a big fan of the opera. I have all the respect in the world for those who are able to sing and perform at that level, but it would not be my first choice for entertainment, although if invited, I would probably attend. Nothing wrong with a bit of culture I guess.While I have only been to the opera on one or two occasions, it was nice to know there was a beginning to the show, a middle and an end. The intermission served as the reminder the performance might be at its mid-point and would soon be over.

   As I began to put some thoughts together for the post this week, I suddenly realized that we actually learn about the beginning, the middle and the end in school. School for most usually begins in the Fall. The middle of the year, halfway, is sometime in January, although schools generally celebrate the 100^th day, and it ends sometime  later in the Spring,

   But the formal teaching of beginning, middle or halfway and end is usually taught in conjunction with writing and story telling and is called sequencing. I have Mrs. Graham, an elementary school teacher to thank for learning about sequencing.... and for hoping  the school year would end as quickly as possible. “Remember,” she would say, “There is an opening or beginning paragraph to a story, a middle paragraph or the  halfway point and an ending. I learned quickly that October was not halfway through the school year.

   Even in math class we learned about sequencing. Those never ending word problems were designed to help us with sequencing, problem solving in a logical and orderly way. Who among us didn't like those word problems? If a train is traveling 50 mph in one direction and a second one travels in the opposite direction at 70 mph, who gets home first? My answer.... "It depends upon where you live? Duh!!!" I think that may have gotten me a detention and ten more word problems for homework.

   But as I watch others  around me similar in age and watch my mother, who will be 94 on her next birthday in September, I may have discovered that life, and how we live it, is all about a beginning, a middle and an end. A profound conclusion, I know. But when it comes to living a rich and full life, we may not want to know when we have reached the middle, our own, personal July 2nd.

   Each day begins at the beginning, followed by a middle of the day (and perhaps a nap) and concludes at the end of the day, with the beginning, middle and end being unique and different for each of us.

   And like a good book with  a story line that keeps the reader engaged, interested and motivated to finish the chapter and move on to the next, each person has his or her own story to tell too. And what  makes a book exciting  and interesting also makes  life exciting and interesting, with the twists and turns and unexpected plots along the way, you know, the things we didn't see coming.

   One of the advantages of getting older is that it provides an opportunity for 'perspective', a chance to look back at 'the very beginning', consider the events and decisions in the middle and then form conclusions about how we got to where we are. How often have you heard someone say...”If only I had done things a bit differently.” But, in reality, would it have really made a difference?

   For the most part, I like knowing when I have reached the 'middle', whether it be at a really bad movie, standing in line to get into the men's room at the ball park or 200 miles into a 400 mile trip in the car. What I don't want to know, however,  is the day or date of the halfway point of my life. I'm  OK with  not knowing that!

   And July 2^nd.  There are some people who must watch those dates very closely, because......later that same day I saw a delivery truck parked by the loading dock at a local store, unloading some of this year's Christmas items, soon to be placed on the store's shelves. Is it that time already and... OMG.....are those Christmas carols I hear playing in the background? 

Due to increased call volume, your wait time is approximately...

    "Due to increased call volume, your wait time is approximately...90 minutes!” Yikes, 90 minutes. That was the message I recently received in an attempted telephone call to the Office of Retirement and Pensions in  New Jersey. I'll bet it didn't take that long to place the call to 'authorize' the traffic jam that occurred at the George Washington Bridge a few months ago.

   Several weeks ago, I needed to contact the New Jersey Office of Pensions and Retirement with a question about my mother's account, a seemly very simple question. The 90 minute wait time was the message at the first call. 
   Several days later I attempted to call again. This time, the message was a bit more encouraging, only an estimated wait time of approximately 30 minutes. I could do thirty minutes. 
   First, the call was a simple question  and I needed just a simple answer. Second...what was a mere 30 minutes out of my day. I could spare 30 minutes. I was only going to cut the grass. But I didn't want to tell that to the person on the other end of the line. He or she may have wanted to do the same.

   I put the phone on speaker and went about some other activities as I waited. The music was terrible, but the public service announcement every once and a while were even worse.

   I was keeping track of the time and at about 28 minutes into the call the voice of a service agent said....”How may I help you?”

   I explained who I was and the information I was hoping they could provide for me and if not, who I might be able to speak with. “Please hold a moment,” was the response, but with the push of a button the call became disconnected. 
   “You have got to be kidding me!!!” A 30 minute wait only to be disconnected. I could have gone outside to cut the grass. I decided not to call back for fear of what I might say or how long I would have to wait to say it.

   A day later I placed the call again. It was early in the day and the 'wait time' was only an estimated 15 minutes. This time the service representative spoke with somewhat of an accent ( must have been a Southern  Jersey accent) and it was difficult for me to understand, coming from northern New England and all. 
   I again explained the purpose of my call and was placed on 'hold'... and yes, the call became disconnected for a second time. By now, you may be able to imagine my frustration. Did they know I was calling from out of state, from away? Were they told to hang up on people who call  from another state?

   What to do now? I didn't think a call to the Governor was going to help. He was probably out on his "power walk" or tied up in a traffic jam on the bridge anyhow. I was 'kinda' stuck.

   I decided to call the health insurance company directly and avoid the state retirement office, knowing that I was  probably going to be referred back to the retirement office at some point. But it was worth the try. The service agent at the insurance company was somewhat helpful but told me that I really needed to speak with someone at the NJSHBP office. She gave me a special phone number to call and wished me luck. (Was that a laugh I heard as she hung up the phone?)

   I poured myself a fresh glass of ice tea, sat down in a comfortable chair and dialed the number she had given me. “Due to a temporary computer system failure we are not able to complete your call at this time. Please try again later.” Welcome to New Jersey! (To my family and friends who live in New Jersey, I don't mean to sound critical, but.... A quick reminder, I used to live Jersey too.)

   My last attempt to get the information I was seeking was a brief note, tucked inside the monthly bill payment along with the check, asking that someone 'please' call me, preferably a supervisor . To date, I have not received a call, but I did notice the check was cashed. Of course it was!

   I would like to say this has been a learning experience. Unfortunately the only thing it has done is to reinforce my belief that good customer service may be a thing of the past, automation and technology still has its faults and there are some things that just may be too big and do fail and while my experience has been with the NJSHBP, I suspect this can happen almost anywhere, in any state with any government agency and we really have no one to blame except ourselves because we allow it to continue. Perhaps our expectations of good service from our government agencies have become too high or the demands too numerous, even for the answers to  simple questions.

   But on a serious note, all was not lost. I did learn a new phrase to use when those election candidate calls start coming in from now until election day in November. “Due to an increase in the volume of calls from your opponents, your anticipated wait time to speak with me is approximately 90 minutes. Please sit back and enjoy the music."

Is it bigger than a bread box?

   The electric power had been out for hours. No radio or television. It was getting dark and there was nothing to do. I have an idea! Let's play 20 Questions.

   For those of us with a bit of age under our belts, the question of “being bigger than a bread box” may bring back a memory or two.   Long before computers, Game Boys and other electronic devices kids use today, many of the games we played often required nothing more than a bit of creativity and imagination. One of those games was 20 Questions and its popularity peaked in the late 1940's and early 1950's along with a weekly quiz program on the radio, although I admit I do not remember the radio show. (I do remember a version of this game show on the television though.)

   The game could be played in the living room or while traveling in the car and was quite simple. If my memory serves me correctly, one person was chosen to answer the questions. That person would choose an object, perhaps in the room where everyone was sitting, but not reveal what it was to the others. Each would take turns asking questions, which, in its early years could only be answered with a 'yes' or 'no.' To add a bit of a challenge, 'maybe' soon became an acceptable answer too.

   If a 'questioner' guessed the correct answer, that person was declared the winner and became the 'answerer'. If no one guessed correctly after 20 questions, those playing were 'stumped' and the 'answerer' was declared the winner and would continue for another round. (Sounds a bit like one of those college drinking game, don't you think?)

   Lying was not allowed and in today's world, that might eliminate a number of people from participating in the game, those folks needing to find their own games to play for entertainment.

   One of the keys to a successful game was the careful selection of questions. The person skilled in asking the 'right ' questions had a distinct advantage over others and I suspect many of those folks with that skill moved on to become great problem solvers in the world, maybe like attorneys and lawyers. Just kidding. Many probably became teachers.

   Over the years the game took on some changes and new forms, with a more well known version played being “Animal, Vegetable, Mineral.” Even today, classroom teachers may use this game as part of the study of science. For example...”was today's school lunch animal, vegetable or mineral?”

   Cell phones, computers and the hundreds of other electronic devices have changed the way we play, and in so doing, may be slowing changing the way we think. Today it is too easy to move off into the corner of a room, isolated from others around you and playing Candy Crush for hours. I know there are parts of the game that allow you to challenge friends to a game or two, seeing who can get the higher score. But for the most part there may be little actual verbal interaction with anyone else, except when mom tells you that dinner is ready..... and you have yet to finish your lunch.

   For some reason, after doing a bit of research, 20 seems to be the magical number of questions to be asked when seeking information, not just for 20 Questions, but for 'life' questions  too. For example...Interested in dating the new girl who just moved into town? There is a list of twenty questions to ask her in order to get to know her before you ask her out.

   Or perhaps you are looking for a new piece of furniture for your home. There is a list of twenty questions to ask the sales person before buying. And the most important question? Is there a lifetime guarantee that this will not fall apart?

   My favorite list..... twenty questions to ask your local candidate running for political office. And try to get those answers with just a simple 'yes' or 'no'.

   The game of 20 Questions may have done more than just keep us busy when the power went out back in the old days. It made us use our imagination. It gave us  time to spend with family or friends even if we did realize it. It sometimes made us laugh. But most important....it made us think, as silly as some of those questions may have seemed at times. 
   So, anyone up for a game of 20 Questions? And I'll tell you right up front, the object I am thinking about is 'bigger than a bread box.'


    (On these nice warm summer days, last one in the water is.....)

Turn left by the big oak tree and...

   For those of you not familiar with Maine, you can crisscross the state on numerous back country  roads, roads that seem to go no where. For sure, we have the major highways, at least running north and south. But to experience the true character of Maine one only needs to spend a bit of time touring places like T16 R14 or Square Lake (T16 R5) to get the real flavor of Maine. I'm not talking about the sweet taste of a freshly cook lobster or clams direct from the ocean. I am talking about what you do when you are lost and have no idea where in the world where you are or how to get home and need to ask for directions.

   Now before you all suggest that I type my location into my cell phone, I need to remind you that there are still many areas in the back woods of Maine void of cell service and besides, it only works if I remembered to take it off the dining room table and bring it along. And what is that new expression.....'out of cell... out of mind!'

   It started out as a beautiful ride on a cool Fall morning. The colorful foliage provided a fantastic contrast to the blue sky and puffy white clouds. A few left turns here and then a couple to the right and I was deep into the Maine woods. Is this a logging road? 
   As it got closer to lunch time, I decided it was time to head back, but which way was back.

   Here are a couple of things to remember. There are very few street or road signs in most of the Maine woods. Keeps the cost of the state budget down. There are very few houses and not much other traffic. And most important, regardless of which way you turn, everything looks the same...trees, trees and more trees.

   After driving for a few more miles in what seemed like circles, I was surprised to come upon a very small general store. The sign in the window said 'Wilson's General Store' for all you local shopping needs.

   Several men stood by the counter, drinking coffee and discussing the local politics and of course, the weather. The lady behind the counter was rearranging the boxes of shotgun shell and neatly folding blaze orange hunting vests. The vests appeared to be the 'one size fits all' model.

   I wanted to act 'cool' and not seem like someone from away so after pouring myself a cup of coffee and grabbing a Ring Ding off the shelf I casually said....”I spent a bit too much time taking in the beautiful scenery and I am running a bit late. Can you guys give me directions for the quickest way back to the interstate?” I think the word that gave it away was ' interstate.' They knew I was not a local.

   The first to reply simply responded by saying...”turn around and go back the way you came.” That was easier said than done and I confessed I had not really been paying attention.

   The second offered more detail. “Take a left out of the parking lot. Go about three miles to the big oak tree on the corner of the old Warren place. Take the next right. If you pass the dead deah (that's deer for those of you from away) carcass on the side of the road, you've go too far. Turn around and take the next left. Follow that road to the next fillin' station. Then.....

   At this point the lady behind the counter asked...”Which way ya headin' on the interstate, north or south? There's an easier way to get there 'pending on which way you're headed."

   “South'” was my response.

   “Figures,” was hers. “Could tell just by the brand new boots on your feet. L.L.Bean, right ?”

   For the next few minutes the three argued as to the best route to send me so I could get to where I was going.

   The final directions included a turn at the local sand shed, keeping to the right at the twin forks, staying to the left of the old log cabin and keeping an eye out for the horse barn surrounded by the white fence. “When you get there, you're getting close.

   “Need a box of shells?” she asked.

   “Nope. Not this trip. Maybe next time.” Like I could find my way back there!

      I “thanked” them for their help, paid for another Ring Ding and started out on the journey. Much to my surprise, within the hour or so I was back on the interstate and heading for home.

   With the advent of the 'garmin' and cell phones, provided you are within reach of a signal, the need to be able to ask and be given directions is quickly becoming a dying art, especially if the directions include a bit of the local flavor, whether it be a bit of the“down-east' or southern Aroostook county humor.

   And as I climbed into my car, I could hear the three of them laughing. “He probably has never held a shotgun and doesn't even know what a box of shells is used for!! And those boots.....brand spankin' new.Tag was still on um.”