Just when you’d think I’ve run out of examples
Author: Jnana Hodson
In downsizing to a remote fishing village in Downeast Maine, this eclectic writer feels everything's coming together.
Standing ovations used to be special
Now they’re pretty routine.
Any idea why?
With a Biblical perspective
Esau sold his birthright for a bowl of porridge.
Some Americans, for cheaper gasoline.
My take on the causes of decline
There are many reasons for the closure of the Dover Friends meetinghouse after the First World War, as I note in my book, along with its reopening in the 1950s.
In an even bigger picture, we could argue about the marginalization of religion in American society in general, and then extend our consideration to lessened civic involvement and association.
My short quip is that Friends became too respectable.
For now, I’ll leave it at that – at least here, in a blog post. Many other factors come into play.
Besides, it’s the basis of enough for an entirely new book, rather than the history at hand.
Just what makes us tick, anyway – individually and together?
~*~
Check out my new book, Quaking Dover, available in an iBook edition at the Apple Store.
Welcome to Dover’s upcoming 400th anniversary.
Not a bad way to spend a dark Saturday afternoon
This has the makings of a fine Saturday afternoon tradition through gloomy winter around here. Not that it won’t work on a sparkling day, either.
The local contradance band has another monthly performance at the Old Sow grill coming up, and the previous one, as you can see, was a hoot.
It attracted a handful of sit-in musicians in addition to an appreciative audience that packed the house.
Plus, monthly dances at the arts center are set to resume at the end of January after a long Covid hiatus.
From a coastal cliff trail
With a commanding view of the ocean
Favorite names I haven’t used in a novel
I’m waiting to name a character Sorrell. And Hezekiah is what I would have loved to have named a son, not that I would have found support on that one. Maybe as a middle name?
In a story, I try to avoid using names of people I know, or at least know well. Ditto for close family. So they don’t count here. It certainly narrows the range. On top of everything, after multiple revisions, I don’t always remember what I’ve kept in the end.
Besides, a name should be suggestive.
Now for ten or so more.
- Lane. Or Blaine. Unisex, very useful.
- Perry. Unisex again.
- Majik. Was a fisherman around here but could be unisex.
- Dana. Well, since we’re on a roll.
- Marilyn. Evocative, yet all-American.
- Pierce. I see a cutting edge in his glance.
- Bonita. Could go by Bonnie, too. From the Spanish, makes an alternative for Linda, which I also haven’t used, or Melinda, even better.
- Trent. The family had aspirations and this was the golden boy.
- Berry. Back in unisex, along with alternative spellings.
- Lark. Even Clark. Or Clifford. Or Larkins.
For children, though, I’ve become very fond of handing down family names. Even using a maternal surname. Guess it’s the genealogist in me at work.
We haven’t even gotten to nicknames, which can really pop a character into focus. Think of “Willy” as one possibility.
How ‘bout some suggestions from you?
He’s the face of the town
Fortunately, the fisherman got a new coat this summer, a bright yellow one. Seeing the old one now comes as a shock.
A special kind of humor
Vermont may be renowned for maple syrup and skiing, but Maine lays claim to a very dry humor as well as lobsters. Maybe they’re somehow connected.
When I first moved in New Hampshire, I learned much about the region through the Humble Farmer, Robert Skogland’s weekly hour on Maine Public Radio. But his comedy act wasn’t the only one in the Pine Tree State.
Tim Sample remains the epitome, even though his time was cut unfortunately short.
Another now classic run was “Men from Maine,” a one- to two-minute comedy segment that opened with soap opera organ music and something varying along the lines of, “And now for another thrilling episode of the exciting adventures of Men from Maine. As today’s action-packed drama begins,” which aired on a morning radio show in Boston.
The episodes typically revolved around Lem and Ephus and others in backwoods Maine. While the humor was essentially redneck, it was opposed to that of the American South. Episodes ran all the way from industrial accidents handled in incompetent ways (many residents, including Lem and Ephus, worked in the local sawmill, though the canneries could be equally hazardous), to bestiality, but, as observers noted, the humor always came from the stupidity of the characters and their obliviousness.
After I’d been introduced to the men via Clackity Jane’s show on Eastport’s little FM station, I discovered how much they’re stilled treasured in these parts, maybe because they struck something true.
Laugh on, dude … and dudette.
Jnana's Red Barn 