If only I was a Datsun

Trying to interview some high school students on a protest march last week was an interesting affair, mainly because of the GIANT SNOW BANKS I had to vault in order to talk to them. At one point, my vault fell short so I ended up with one leg hopelessly stuck to the thigh in a limb-eating snowbank. I tried all the methods you use when something gets stuck in the snow. I rocked back and forth. I tried acceleration out of the snowy quagmire. I sprinkled kitty litter under my foot in hopes of gaining traction. No go. I finally had to give up and call AAA, but would those guys help me out of the snowbank. Nah, bruh. Apparently they’re real strict about that middle A.

I didn’t mean it

So, last week, some guy on Facebook was big mad at me after I described people who back into parking spaces at grocery stores as “lunatics.” I feel I was misunderstood here. I only described those fancy parkers in such a way because I personally don’t have the skill to back into a space. I was just lashing out due to envy, is all. Fact is, I am just no good driving in reverse under any circumstances. I want to be one of those guys who backs all neatly into his own driveway but every time I try, I end up parking in the living room. I’m so terrible at it, stray cats and mailmen refuse to go anywhere near my yard if they see those reverse lights on. My shame is great.

Ghost in the machine

So, I’ve been trying to diagnose a weird noise my truck has been making for the past few weeks. The problem can best be described as a haunting “Whooooooo…” sound when I accelerate. Whenever I’m confronted with a phantom “Whoooooo” sound, I think of that guy who went running around Gilligan’s Island in a sheet in hopes of convincing the castaways that the island was haunted. So after ruling out brakes and bearings, I think it’s a good bet that my truck is plagued by ghosts and I best call that little old lady from “Poltergeist” instead of a mechanic.

Those Maineiacs!

I meant to go to a Maineiacs game in Lewiston last week but then forgot all about it. Too bad. From what I hear, it was a game full of brawls and scraps and outright donnybrooks, with several players ejected from the game and scolded for misconduct. In other words, it was a hockey game. There was so much violence out there, the Lewiston mayor has called for a special community meeting to discuss it. Probably.

Mark LaFlamme is an award-winning Sun Journal reporter and columnist. He’s covered the nighttime police beat since 1994, which is just grand because he doesn’t like getting out of bed before noon. He is the author of eight published novels and rides a dual sport motorcycle everywhere he goes. Unless it’s winter, in which case he just sulks a lot.