Ahh, look at em.....:)
Well, of course, this baby... ...and I detailed its cosmic healing powers here, and here.
Then, there's this.
My original pocket gizmo.
Your basic Swiss pocket knife.
Had it since oh, '94 or '95.
Found it in the parking lot of UNE.
The springy thing on the scissors broke off, and the folding mechanism for the nail file broke, so it swings loosely, and doesn't fold up all the way, and the key ring is gone, and the metal logo thing popped off and got lost ages ago, and it gets a green patina in the hinges that gunks up that I have to scrape out every few months, so, it's in rough shape.
BUT...the knife still cuts packages open, and the scissors still cut pesky bags open, and the nail file works as a good screwdriver for the power screw of my electric clippers, so..I keep it.
I have it in my t-shirt pocket right now.
It's always on me.
It's my main fiddling object.
I have this OCD thing where I like to have an object to fiddle with.
I fold the nail file on it's loose flappy hinge, and the scissors I wobble around on their wobbly hinges.
And I pop the tweezers out half way like they're an antennae of a teeny walkie talkie.
Y'know, something to fiddle with.
I suppose I could get a fresh new one, I looked, and Amazon sells 'em for like...a fucking penny.
Still...I dunno, I've bonded with it, it's mine.
And then there's this baby.
My sweet little camera. What I like to call "my little tricorder".
As you may know, I took most of the pics in the location blogs with it.
If I ever work up the nerve, I'll do Youtube video blogs (or, vlogs) with it.
Just been, well, working up the nerve, and also, trying to think of something worthy to aim it at and blather about.
Not much more to say about it.
It's really fucking sweet.
One thing, would be nice if it had a screen.
But...once you add a screen, then the size and price jump up sharply for some reason.
And this is the latest addition, got it just last week.
A laser pointer with a flashlight, and UV blacklight.
Just about the same size as my pocket knife.
It's my other fiddling object, I keep it right with the knife in my pocket.
Hmm, y'know, if I used the flashlight/blacklight along with the camera, then that really is the tricorder.
I mean, the camera taking the pics as the light exposes invisible objects, that's just like the Trek tricorder getting an extra boost from that pepper shaker thingy.
Anyway, those are my main gadgets.
I mean, yeah, I got my laptop, my PS2, my DVD, my TV, my VCR, my old PC, I got all kinds of larger utility knives, and tools lying around, but for stuff I always have on me, or that have important uses, those 4 are kinda my utility belt.
And that they're little black stick things has a utility belt feel too, y'know?
So yeah, those are my babies.
Oh, and here's the next two....
...a keychain sized universal clicker for messing with TVs and raising hell.
I'm thinking doctor's offices, and waiting rooms mostly, cuz that's right where they leave the TV on complete and utter shit, and hide the remote.
But, good for anywhere where you're stuck watching shit.
For example, Applebees and Uno leave their TVs on insufferable crap like golf all the time.
I never want to be stuck again like that.
When I have this, I'll never have to.
Next up is this.... ...a butane lighter that burns like a blowtorch.
Triple blue flames.
Can melt fucking metal.
Always wanted my own lighter to just have fire as a tool, but hey, why not have it be a kickass one to boot?
Who can pass up a mini blowtorch for 4 bucks and free shipping?
So, yeah, those are ordered, and on their way, I'll maybe do another entry to tell if they turned out as good as advertised, and maybe have some stories to go with them.
I went back to the Full Belly Deli yesterday!
I had the "fall fowl", which is a turkey, stuffing, and cranberry sandwich.
Been craving that for over a year; and I think they have it year round, so you ain't gotta wait for winter/thanksgiving.
Oh, and they also have Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray (celery flavored soda).
They used to have it at a couple of convenience stores around here, but that was like...20 years ago...
Ever since then, I'd seen like one can pop up every 3-5 years.
Well, now I know where to get it year round.
I'm so fucking happy.
I love celery soda, it's way better than even ginger ale IMHO.
60 of the former, 40-something of the latter.
Filled up the whole 2 gigs of the chip.
So, there, all set. :)
Between those, and the tunes, I got enough to keep me going forever.
I got to thinking, man, I wish I'd had this thing during Wal-Mart, might've helped keep me sane.
Would've been a good antidote to all the Limbaugh shit at Hanover too.
I need me a time machine to send it back to myself.
And Zaitlin, needed some good tunes there, instead of the damned 70's station that played the same 10 songs every damned work shift.
Even if I couldn't have played the player on headphones (pretty sure I could've snuck 'em at Wal-Mart, dunno about the other places) having it for the commute would've really helped.
And if it would've helped then, it'll totally help now.
Funny how a simple little gizmo like that can change a life quality wise.
Eh, you rich yuppies take your toys for granted, you don't even know.
Probably had the PS3 on the first day, dincha?
Anyway, 'nother weapon in the arsenal for taking on the awful world.
I'm kinda excited. Read More......
...got no deep connection to these places (Saco, Biddeford) like I do Westbrook, so the trips kinda passed over me with no jarring insight...
BUT, one thing did stand out, was in how relatively relaxed I was driving through traffic that normally jangles my nerves, building up towards teeth gritted hissed cursing, and a throbbing in my head.
My beloved MP3 player.
Popular music on FM radio has been bubbling sewage since the 90's, and talk radio is all Rush/Beck/Hannity/Dr. Laura nightmare lava anus vomit, so I drive in cold silence.
Alone, with my angry thoughts, and traffic.
Having that little magic gum-pack stuffed full of good tunes, and Bill Hicks, really did the trick to medicate me.
What a fucking difference.
Best thing I ever bought in my life, seriously.
Yesterday, I pumped my Weird Al, Dr. Demento, and Bob Rivers stuff into it, and that'll definitely cheer me up even more.
Reminds me of how, at some of my crappy jobs, they had shitty tunes on, and it really does fucking demoralize and weaken you.
Zaitlin had fucking country shit on, and Wal-Mart, they had alterna-crap on, and 8-10 hours of that shit just sucks the fucking life out of you.
Then you drive home, and it's Rush going "blurba-da blurba blurb, drive by media! Blurba blurba bluurrpp!".
So, if bad radio can sicken, sure as hell good stuff heals, and by crikey does it ever.
So, I gotta be pro-active, and stock up on good shit.
I love the shit out of the Bill Hicks/Len Belzer interviews, but only so many times I can listen to those before I burn out.
I'm gonna pump an extra Micro-SD card full of good podcasts.
I dunno what yet, but that's gonna help.
Gonna help a lot.
See, between crap oozing out of the TV, and out of the radio, and then on certain boards (cough!), you start to think the whole world has been totally taken over by stupid assholes, and it tears you the fuck down, and then you think that that's the world you have to take on when you get behind the wheel, and no wonder the road rage tingles start right up.
Least, that happened to me for awhile.
Part of what made me a hermit.
But, it's an illusion.
A VR hologram.
A big smoke puff of lowest common denominator pandering by the marketing scum.
There's good shit out there, by good people.
What a fucking blessing the internet is.
That, and CD ripping.
If tech like this hadn't come along, I think I really would have gone crazy putting up with the moron mass culture, and the horrific shallow selfish attitudes it shills.
Another reason I root for science over superstition.
Another aspect is, assuming a planet full of assholes for a worst case scenario, I at least know the people that made all this music and comedy that has enriched my life are good.
So we start there.
And they make enough money off their stuff to hang around, so they have other fans.
So, I know they must be plugged in, and turned on.
And the people who built all this technology, and wrote all this software had good intent.
And some of them must be fans of the stuff I like.
So, there's hundreds of cool people out there for me to find.
Hell, I know a bunch of 'em on the net.
So, where the fuck are they in Maine?
Howcome I was always stuck with the redneck/Jerry Springer/Rethuglican/sociopath trash?
Where the fuck are my people?
They've gotta be out there.
So, that's the next phase of this "quest for hope", gotta track down, and build a community of like minds.
They gotta be out there.
It can't just be me in a redneck zombie wasteland, it can't be.
I won't accept it.
Tried getting this intersection twice, once on the way to Gorham, and again on the way to Westbrook (which can be gotten to through Gorham), and either the sun, or traffic fucks it up, so screw it, it's a bitch of an intersection to get with my little camera, I've been here, so I'll Google Map it, and get it over with.
Okay, here's 3-D Variety.
They used to have a video store, I think they brought it back, I haven't been back to look.
Anyhoo, rotating to the right...
...is this pesky intersection.
See, you gotta stop about here, and you come up on it in a 50 mph zone, and there's always cars up your ass, and you ain't got much time to fuck around, and if the sun's at the wrong spot, forget it, so, yeah, this why I couldn't get good shots.
S'pose I coulda pulled in somewhere, but...to really nail it, I'd have to pull in to 3-D, then cross the street, and pull in there, but there's no really good way to cross the street with all the traffic coming, so, I'd have to go all around, come back..and ugh...not worth it.
Aaanyhoo...green arrow is where 3-D is for reference, red arrow goes to Gorham, blue arrow is where the next pic will be.
So, rotating again...
...is this little strip...
...and getting out the arrow pen...
Red arrow, this joint has been a bunch of stuff, but once upon a time, it was a comic shop.
Wasn't a great comic shop, but at least it was local.
Used to be one behind Nicely's too, but again..ppt.
Comic shops don't last in the boonies.
Green arrow is where the barber I used to go to was.
Blue arrow is the hairdresser that drove out and replaced the barber.
No barbers anymore, one is forced to go to a hairdresser to get a trim.
She acted kinda contemptuous of me being there.
What, I'm supposed to be ashamed to be alive, hang my head, skulk off, and not get my haircut?
Not like it's verboten for a guy to be there, I walked in on her giving a trim to her son.
And it can't be cuz I'm big and oafish, her kid was as big and oafish as me.
I don't get people.
And when I do I'm horrified.
Best to let it go.
Anyway, she did a good job, and was hella fast compared to the old Navy barber, so, yay.
Purple arrow down thataway spits you back out at the intersection of the smiling church (shown at the end of part 3)
Anyway, turning back around, heading back thisaway...
...ya got Wayne Joy's Motorcar...
...and the Donut Hole Cafe, which is relatively new, and lovely.
...and that's it. That's the last little bit.
Oh yeah, and to bring it full circle with the last entry, keep going thataway, you pop out at the Hannaford.
And this time, they're sullying my state with their feces.
Here's their scummy ad, loaded up with fear and victimhood.
"Wahh! They took away our voice! They're taking away our rights! They're gonna fuck up MY marriage somehow!".
Assholes never see themselves as assholes, always with the whining, and climbing on the cross.
The anti-integration people pulled the exact same crybaby crocodile tears crap.
With the homophobia, it's always a religious group pulling it.
This time it's the Catholics.
There's a big bucket of hypocrisy for ya.
Note among the fear-mongering, somehow, church's will lose their tax exemption.
First of all, how?
Second of all, prove it.
Third of all....tch, GOOD!
You wanna stick your dick in our laws, pay the price of admission, assholes.
And here's the one from the good guys.
Note the opposite tone.
Peace, love, friendship, no fear, no sniveling.
They're just people trying to live.
Get over it.
Well, took these along multiple days along several of the other trips, plus sprinkled in some Google Maps to fill in missing pieces, plus put 'em in scrambled order (to throw off the cyber-stalkers).
So, here we go.
Here's the liquor store/redemption center where I take my bottles back.
Only place left I know of that just takes your bottles back, and hands you a slip.
Everywhere else has this fucking "Clynk", scam running.
What a fucking racket.
You give them your bottles.
They send 'em to a facility.
You get your money in a little auto-teller machine the next fucking day, THE NEXT FUCKING DAY!!
Two fucking trips, more fucking gas burned.
Yeah, there's helping the environment.
Oh, and you just can't give them your bottles, you have to use THEIR bags, that you have to buy!
And of course, they take it out of your bottle money.
And they shave a couple bucks off your total for processing, or some shit, and you don't even know how honestly they counted your fucking bottles, unless you counted them yourself, but who fucking does that?
At least the other way, you can watch them do it, and there's no bullshit, no waiting another day, no burning extra gas.
Clynk this, motherfuckers!
Course, someday, all the redemption centers will die out, and this Clynk shit will conquer the earth.
And on that day...I'll stop taking bottles back.
They'll go to the MERC plant to be burnt with the rest of the rubbish.
On this I swear.
Course, then they'll make throwing bottles and cans illegal.
I hate the system...*grumble*...fucking people...*grumble*...
Okay, 'nuff of that, here's Blast From The Past diner.
Nifty little 50's nostalgia diner.
It's like eating meatloaf, or salmon pie, or a double cheeseburger and fries, except if you were Fonzie!!
And, up the road a helluva ways, here's where the Station House Grill is, which used to be Don's Market, and that's what it used to look like as Don's.
Go to the official site to see what it looks like inside and out as Station House.
Heh, heh, the address is still "donsmarket".
Anyway, food there is awesome, menu is still the same as when it was Don's, but they've jacked the prices up.
They've got literally everything, pizza, sandwiches, Mexican, meat & potatoes type supper meals, pie, cake, you name it.
If it ain't on the menu, they can probably cook it for you anyway.
It's half restaurant, half variety store, I love places that are two things.
If I had a business head, I'd run a variety store, restaurant, pool hall, bowling alley, arcade.
If it were in Nevada, I'd add brothel.
Anyway, up the road a piece, ya got Nicely's Video.
Ahhhh, you served me well over the years, Nicely's, but your time is passed.
So many memories, Toxic Avenger, Evil Dead trilogy, countless Nintendo games, countless shitty cult movies given the MST3K treatment by me & Hyla & Spencer.
So damned many memories.
And it's all fading away.
They became a half & half video and tanning place some years ago, and the tanning part has slowly been gobbling up real estate, and now I hear they're adding a beauty parlor.
It ain't a geek place anymore, it's a bimbo place.
I don't go there anymore.
Okay, so I don't always like half & halfs. :P
Not when one of the halfs becomes malignant.
Anyway, these days, it's easier to Redbox.
Think everyone's discovering that.
And even then, there hasn't been very much the past 5 years or so I was super-compelled to see.
Think I can count on two hands the new movies I've seen in the past 2 years.
So yeah, the Nicely's age is over for me.
Up the road a little bit, we've got Tory Hill Variety.
They've been rebuilt from the ground up, they used to be a rustic little shack.
It had a certain charm, now it's all new and pretty, and ruined. :P
Lol, nah, it's cool, and their menu is improved.
They have a great fish sandwich now.
Haven't tried anything fancier yet.
Ah, yeah, around some corners, and up some streets, is this place that used to be Morrison's Gun Shop.
Been gone for ages, but lotta memories there.
Used to ride up there on my bike as a kid, and buy comics, and candy, and Garbage Pail Kids, and old paperback compilations of Mad Magazine.
Anyway, back on the main path, and up the road from Tory Hill, is this Hannaford.
Nice store, has the Redbox I spoke of previously, but...they have that fucking Clynk racket running redemption.
Y'know what was easier than Clynk?
The self serve machines they used to have in grocery stores.
You shove in a can at a time in the aluminum one, or a single-bottle, or a boss (2 liter) in the plastic one, and it crushed 'em up, and spat out a ticket to cash in, and you were all set.
What happened to that?
What was so hard about that?
Yeah, there was machine maintenance, but nowhere near the bullshit of Clynk.
So, turning off a bit, here's Aubuchon Hardware...
...and up the road a bit, this variety store I can't remember the name of, they used to take redemption, so I just called them "the redemption center", but they stopped taking redemption, so I was like "fuck them", so I don't even go there anymore.
...and right up at the same corner, and across the street, is Low's.
Like Tory Hill, they had a big makeover done.
Little story here, they used to take redemption in the real old days, when I was a tiny little kid, and Dad would always use the bottle money to buy more sodas.
So...I thought the system went, you buy new sodas with old sodas.
So, one day, a dude knocks on our door, and he's on some kind of bottle drive for something, must have been charity, and internally, I was like "holy crap, this thief wants our bottles, without those, we can't get new sodas, doesn't he know this?", so I was like "no 'fanks, we take 'em to the store, and buy sodas wif' um".
So, that idiot/lunatic was fended off, and I felt like I'd saved the day.
Strangers, ain't they something?
Anyhoo, up the road from there, we come back to the actual Tory Hill, and the cemetery there.
This is the cemetery I had in my head when I wrote "Bride Of Ka-Ka Pants", and where the zombies in that story were rising from.
See, you zoom down the hill, and you come right back around to Tory Hill Variety, so, if the zombies did sweep down on the town, Tory Hill Variety would bear the brunt of the assault.
So, the store in the story is a cross between Tory Hill Variety, and Morrisons.
So, there's that loop around, so let's head back, and up the road a helluva ways from Low's, we got the Sur Fine, which used to be Plummers.
If you remember, last time, the road was blocked off, and I didn't have the patience for the traffic. But this time, traffic wasn't as bad, so I grudgingly took the detour, and after some road work delay crap even after the detour, it was smooth sailing.
But FIRST, I stopped off at the Saco Valley Shopping Center again, went back to Nonesuch Books, and got the goddamned Batman book I screwed myself out of last time.
Here's a closer view of Nonesuch...
...here I am creeping right up on it, that hulking, shambling, barely discernible creature in the window is me....
...and here I am inside..and all the interior shots came out shitty like this, aimed at the ceiling somehow.
..except this one of the sci-fi section...
...and here's the goddamned Batman book back at my lair, taken just now, since the damned camera angle wouldn't cooperate at the store.
...anyway, after that stopoff, it was on to Biddeford.
Oh, great, another fucking doomsday deadline for the trinket monkeys to make a cottage industry out of.
This one's three years away, so that's how long I gotta put up with this bullshit, as opposed to the few months in the lead up to Y2k.
Look folks, it's bullshit.
I know you love your bullshit, so it falls on deaf ears, but in the off chance logic might break through, listen, it's another illusion to make you buy shit, that's all.
Please tune it out, and go on with your life.
If you want to buy the trinkets, and watch the movies, fine, I've learned to give in on that one, cuz it's fucking hopeless, but for crying out loud, just don't lose sleep, or try to make anyone else lose sleep.
Sleep deprived fearful people do dumb things.
We need less of that.
Oh, if only things were wonderful, like on 9/12.
Remember the person you were then?
Shitting your pants.
Thinking the next shoe was gonna drop.
Scared to go to your mail box cuz you might get 'thraxed.
Watching CNN 24/7 with a nervous tick in your eyelid.
Remember the beating up and killing of innocent Muslims?
Remember how gosh darned patriotic it all was?
Yeah, cuz it's bullshit.
The flag waving yahoo crap was stupid bullshit then.
I grimly countenanced it then, because 3,000 people just got vaporized, and people needed an emotional crutch for their group PTSD.
It's 8 fucking years out now.
You're fucking done.
The bullshit has expired.
Get a fucking grip on yourselves, or the butterfly nets start going over your fucking heads.
Now shut up, and go open your 9/11 presents, you horrible refugees from an LSD laced fucking nightmare.
As for the dead, remembering them is all we can do.
That's all we leave.
So, if you knew someone, do that.