RESURRECT DEAD ON PLANET JUPiTER

Ode to Maine

When you go camping in Acadia and you live in Philadelphia, here’s what you do:

You get in your car in early evening and you drive. You hit North Jersey at the end of rush hour. By the time you leave Connecticut, it’s night. Massachusetts and New Hampshire fly by in a haze of rest stop Starbucks. When you get to Maine between midnight and 1AM, you still have 4 hours of driving to go.

I rarely talk about music here, but I became a Radiohead fan in those 4 hours. I’d put Amnesiac on the pre-Ipod CD changer thing. It came on around 3AM. I was on a small highway in rural Maine. My girlfriend was asleep. I was alone on the road. It was the perfect setting for an alien abduction. It wasn’t my favorite album and it still isn’t, but for that hour it was just about the greatest thing in all of creation.

And then you reach your destination.

You’ll approach Seawall campground just before dawn. Before you get in line for an early morning campsite, pull over just past King’s camp store and walk out onto the rocky beach. Smell the air. Listen to the waves. Watch the stars fade as the sun rises over the ocean.

This time of year I start to crave Maine. I just talked to an old friend up in Portland and she kept bugging me about when I was going to come up for a visit. Sometimes I wonder why I don’t live there and vacation here.

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