Thursday, July 26, 2012

Manifold Memories in Maine


The Cliff House, Ogunquit, ME
Finally, finally, we reach "my" state, Maine, where the welcome sign says "The Way Life Should Be."  Indeed. I am posting from a genteel lobby with jazzy standards as background music, atop a 100 foot cliff overlooking the Atlantic Ocean as far as the eye can see. We are staying at the 140 year old Cliff House in Ogunquit, Maine. During my childhood my mother would take me to the sweet old Ogunquit Playhouse to see summer stock, and encourage me to go backstage and get autographs from such luminaries as Peggy Cummings. Then we would have dinner at the Cliff House. I always wanted to stay here. Now I can. And tonight we are going to see Damn Yankees at the Ogunquit Playhouse. It's never too late to start your childhood over again.


Walker's Point, Bush Compound
Yesterday I had the honor of introducing Lina to Margo's Maine, much like Sophia's Roma. We went to Kennebunkport so I could show her Walker's Point. I have always insisted that if I owned that house I wouldn't need to be President of the United States. All my dreams would already have been fulfilled. But some people are just greedy, I guess. 

Our old house in OOB
OOB house "Front Yard"
Then I took her to Goose Rocks Beach where we will be staying in August; and to Granite Point in Biddeford Pool where we spent so many happy hours in the Googins summer cottage; finally onto Old Orchard Beach where I spent my early years in an oceanfront/summer boarding house inherited from my grandmother, full of wacky regular guests such as Madame Beauchamps and her "companion" May; and a hot dog and candy stand to feed the hungry Quebequois who descended on our "front yard," the beach.

The real deal
From there to Camp Ellis where our friends the Wolfes are staying while they handle the press credentials for their client the Beach to Beacon race coming up next week. We ate at Huot's and I got my hands on my first real lobster dinner. Hell on your manicure but heaven on your heart.

By the way, there were hardly any moments of "Non Compass Mentis" yesterday. My primal rat brain kicked in and guided me to all of my childhood haunts and kept me on the Maine roads with hardly a bit of trouble.

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