You can now have a pet hedgehog in Maine; no permit needed
A headline in last Friday’s SJ. Excellent news. I’m tired of sneaking around with my hedgehog.
A photo in the Sunday paper of three men standing at the top of the Basilica spire in Lewiston made me feel dizzy. Whenever I see images of people in precariously high places, I get a weird little tingle of unease in my lower regions. It’s mostly unpleasant, although on occasion, I’ll watch those videos of people climbing cell towers just for the tingling thrill of it. But now I fear I’ve said too much.
Smile and get out of the way
I just set up a dash cam in my car. How excited are you right now? Be honest. Now when I tell you about the many weird things I see in downtown Lewiston, there will be visual proof. We can set up a big screen in your backyard and have viewing parties. It’ll be great. Of course, at the moment all my footage entails me screaming at other drivers to use their blinkers and to stop trying to merge at the last second where Russell Street meets the Veterans Bridge. R-rated for language, not for content. So far.
Early Wednesday night, over the span of about an hour, we had in Lewiston-Auburn: a man reported to be running amok with a shotgun; a man threatening to jump off the train trestle; one man waving around a handgun; another waving around a knife; and a drunken fellow climbing a telephone pole. Sounds like high times for a cop beat reporter, right? I wouldn’t know. As all of this was happening, I was covering a two-hour business presentation on creating collaborative platforms for applying long-term advanced projects to the existing design and development process. That’s no doubt high times for a business writer, but for a humble cop beat guy, it’s like having to go to school on the first day of summer vacation.
On Wednesday, a man who lives in Estcourt Station, way, way to the north, called to complain that I had reported the population of the village as four when, in fact, it’s just one. “It’s only me up here,” the man insisted. “Just me.” A few seconds later, he had to interrupt our conversation to answer a knock at the door. A few seconds after that, boisterous conversation followed as more guests poured into his home. The dude may live in solitude, but he’s got a livelier social life than I do.
My favorite bear
Game wardens are cautioning that wild bears are extra hungry this spring and that they may come prowling for food. Let them come, I say. Did I ever tell you about my favorite bear in the world? He lumbered his way through Lewiston on an afternoon maybe 15 years ago, disrupting a sleepy neighborhood on the outskirts and sending local media into a frenzy. I never clapped eyes on the bear, myself, but I love him anyway. This particular bear chose Election Day to go dancing through area backyards, which totally got me out of a lame assignment covering the polls. I tell you, I could use another bear these days, and I don’t care if it’s a grizzly bear, the Sugar Pops bear or one of the Chicago Bears. If he or she can get me out of a lame assignment or two I will totally help him or her to prevent forest fires.