Central Maine hospitals bought by California group

I mean, isn’t this like that old commercial where a bunch of Texans got all riled when they found out their salsa came from New York City? I may have a wrong impression of California, but I imagine being wheeled into the hospital to find a bunch of doctors in tie-dye shirts and little round sunglasses hovering over me. They’ll describe my condition as “gnarly” and prescribe me 30 days of surfing, vegan food and acting lessons before sending me off into the gridlock. The good news is that I’ll be able to pay my bill with lobster and shotgun shells.

Brrr, I’m hot

The extra warm weather at the end of the week really screwed up my rhythms. I’m used to exclaiming, “@!!#$@, it’s cold!” every time I step out the door. I’m not fooled, though. I know what this is. This is just a short spell to get my hopes up. And as soon as those glossy dreams of spring begin to dance through my head, BAM! Subzero blizzard with reverse polar vortex and advective icicle cyclone! And like that, all my swear words make sense again.

Jamais vu

You know what I can’t get used to? That gargantuan building at the corner of Pine and Bates streets in Lewiston. I know they’ve been building it for a year. I know the Sun Journal has written a dozen stories about it. Yet every time I drive by that monstrosity, I slam on my brakes and gasp (in a manly way) as though the edifice simply appeared there overnight. I find myself tempted to call the PO-leece and report a stray building where it doesn’t belong. I guess if I’m going to make that call, I might as well report that Victor News and Speaker’s Variety have been stolen and removed from the city, too, and it would sure be swell if they could recover them.

Anna who, now?

You know what else trips me up down there? The presence of Ancorum Credit Union at Park and Ash. It’s a new sign on the same building that also announces itself as Five County Credit Union, only the lights on that sign are perpetually messed up so it presents itself as “ive Count redit Uni.” I have no idea what an “Ancorum” is and it’s near impossible to produce anagrams from the word. Best I can come up with is “Man Cur,” but since that leaves out a letter it doesn’t count. So you can kind of see why I rarely go downtown anymore.

I’m sorry, what?

I got a hand-scribbled note in the mail the other day and it’s so dense and esoteric, I haven’t concluded yet what it’s about. There is no start or finish to this note, just a bunch of random comments circled in pen and a few diagrams portraying roads, manhole covers, vents and air flow direction. Amidst all of this is a one sentence command that reads “now do your homework.” And since I suspect that this mysterious message reveals something potentially important, I plan to do just that. I’ll start by showing it to someone much smarter than I is.

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.