So, Jared Golden was campaigning in my neighborhood last week and he stopped by my backyard to chat. Now, here’s a young politician who happened to remember my previous week’s column almost word for word. Very impressive. I’m not saying that this has any bearing on the upcoming election, but neither John McCain nor Mitt Romney ever memorized any of my columns and look what happened to them. So, yeah. You think about that.
Halloween riot in Keene
Oh, come now. Haven’t we all, once or twice in our lives, been driven to madness by too much candy corn, popcorn balls and cider? I can’t recall how many times, completely blasted on pumpkin pie, I’ve gone out to overturn cars and set things on fire. They really need to take a hard look at raising the legal age for candy corn. Truly, one is too many and a thousand is not enough.
However . . .
How great are popcorn balls? Moreover, how do they make individual pieces of popped corn stick together like that? The world is just full of such joy and mystery.
I believe that’s the first time I’ve used that word in a professional capacity. Felt good. I think it will become a valuable part of my literary arsenal.
LePage says if Cutler drops out, he’ll win re-election. Michaud camp says it’s unlikely.
That’s a real headline. I feel we are just one or two good weeks from one candidate or the other unleashing the ‘I am rubber, you are glue’ maneuver. Not to mention, ‘I know you are, but what am I?’ and ‘nuh uh.’
Lewiston mulls temporary bike lanes near college
If there was a literary way to snort laughter, I would do it here. The “bike lanes” on Pine Street alone have driven many a good man to drinking hard liquor and gobbling candy corn. It’s like trying to do hard geometry on the run whenever you drive up that God-awful stretch of madness. If you put more of them in the Bates College area, it’s just going to aggravate all those middle-aged married guys out to gawk at coeds along the quad.
Whatever is in room 101 . . .
. . . is the worst thing in the world. I just finished “1984” for the first time since high school and I’m here to declare it the most horrifying novel ever written. You want a good scare for Halloween? Try a little George Orwell. That’s way scarier than a bunch of stupid teenagers hiding in the house of chain saws.
House of chain saws
That’s a reference to a television commercial for (I think) an insurance company. It’s not nearly as awesome as creepy Rob Lowe, whom I’d love to hang out with sometime. That fellow has chutzpah.
So the mystery KC cap dropped off by an anonymous reader last week has two flavors of luck. On Tuesday, I kept it on display on my newsroom desk and the Kansas City Royals lost the first game of the World Series. On Wednesday, I brought it home and the Royals won. Clearly this cap has great powers. I wonder what would happen if I put it on my head.