Dancing in GLORY Alfredo

BAR HARBOR, ME:

Alright. It’s time to talk food.

How much can one properly express their complete lust and adoration for a food? 

‘Food’ is a word that leaves the mouth like a dog crooning for a treat. It does not resound with enough elegance and regality to justly describe Maine Lobster. Maine Lobster should not be called ‘lobster’. Maine Lobster should not be called ‘food’. I propose that Maine Lobster should forever now be called ‘GLORY’. And if I could afford it, I would stuff everything I consumed the rest of my life with GLORY. GLORY stew, GLORY jerky, GLORY mothaclawin’ flapjacks. It’s all glory, baby.

I had an omelet  from this badass place called 2 Cats stuffed with smoked gouda, green onions and GLORY. It was served with hashbrowns, homemade biscuit and strawberry butter. Throw in a tall glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and organic, fair trade coffee and tip, I’m out 25 bucks. But very, very happy. 

Daniel Stevens and Pinchy

At Stewman’s, I discovered the meal I will order my final night on death row:
 - 2 double whiskey-cokes
- cup of best clam chowder ever
- GLORY, crab, spinach and tomato fettucini alfredo
- ‘Whoopie-pie’ sundae
- Other people’s leftover Glory, shrimp and blueberry pie.

$74 later, I was broke, but ready to die happily.


But I didn’t die! And that allowed me to taste the uncontested natural beauty of Bar Harbor and Acadia park. Maine has many bumper stickers with the motto: “Maine, the way life should be.” And it’s hard to argue that point between the breath taking beauty of the trees and water and lobster. Often we’ll drive by trees with orange or red leaves so vibrant that for a second I actually am alarmed that I just saw a tree on fire. I am not exaggerating. I swear the leaves glow in New England. Rosey reds, fiery oranges, beiges, pear, sophisticated light browns, auburns, pale pinks, purples. Have you ever seen a purple leaf? I have. Looking at the ground may give you even greater beauty than looking up because all of the leaves mix and mingle creating smatterings of shape and color coating your path. 

Bar Harbor is definitely a vacation-touristy-town. We were there right at the end of their heaviest tourist season. Lots of people there just to eat, others for tours of the Acadia park, others to participate in the Bar Harbor marathon. Many eastern European immigrate to Bar Harbor to work thru the tourist season. The first day we were there, I ran into more Europeans than Americans.

There is an internet cafe. If you go there, look for the desk with a drawer. There are messages from tourists of the last 15 years in there. We had a similar deal in a very special table at Root Cellar Cafe in San Marcos, TX. 

Our beloved intern Alicia Hynes who worked with us for all of our time in Staunton met up with us and brought Daniel and I to a magical place where you could walk out on to the rocks and see three islands off of the coast. Also the abandoned ruins of an ex millionaire’s house out in the woods. It was very special for Alicia to come out and see the show. 

Oh yeah, we did a show. MidSummer. It was starting to feel more and more like we were on vacation and not so much at work for a little while there. This was the smallest stage we have performed on thus far, and we navigated thru somebody's office to get to our dressing area. There was a girl hired to hang out in the office to make sure we didn't steal anything. I think this is funny because when you are on tour, the last thing you want is more STUFF to haul around. I have discovered that whenever we have challenges that truly make us have to change the show in some way or other, brings out the best in my performance. Adversity solicits magic. Except when I injure the crap out of myself. Speaking of which, my bald head is starting to look massacred from shaving accidents. I will come back from tour with a bass case plastered with bumper stickers and a scalp plastered with "AHHHH!!!!!". 

But anyway, Maine is wonderful and I definitely will be returning. Alicia, we all miss and love you, and I want you to know that people LOVE your stenciled t-shirts.

My only regret is that I didn’t see a moose. I wanna see a goddamn moose. 

GLORY, 

Dola