My problem with procrastination is that the responsibilities I put off rarely get done. Believe me, I’m comfortable with the waiting part and the not doing stuff part. Those are my favorites. In fact, I would be glad to push things aside more often if… Read More
Last weekend, I sat on the stoop, staring at my perennial bed and the brittle sedum that reached up from the ground like a dying man’s hands. Tulip foliage broke through the leaf-littered mulch, and a sole yellow crocus opened its petals to soak up… Read More
Five years ago, before the world shifted in the face of terrorist attacks against the U.S., it was business as usual for Hollywood. Americans were coming off a summer’s worth of easygoing blockbusters – comedies, light dramas, the occasional remake, the expected sequel. At the… Read More
Editor’s Note: Phil Galucki a Jefferson resident who worked for more than two decades as a Maine Superior Court reporter in midcoast Maine, recently traveled to Poland to trace his family roots and celebrate his daughter Lauren’s college graduation. He never missed a meal. When… Read More
There comes a time in everyone’s life when Christmas – if you celebrate that holiday – sneaks up on you in an unexpected way. I do not mean the rush for last-minute gifts or putting the goose in the oven on time. I mean a surprise: the bell… Read More
WASHINGTON – I was there to work, to report on the trip organized by the Cole Land Transportation Museum to take nearly 140 veterans and community members last month to the World War II Memorial. But standing in the 43-foot Pacific Pavilion at one end… Read More
Less than a year ago my son, Jack, and I visited old friends in New Orleans. It feels now like we must have been having antediluvian dreams. It was October and still too hot for us Mainers. White, heavy heat that could have been worse. Read More
The ebb and flow of the tide is a central image in “The Singing Bridge,” an original opera that has been commissioned by Maine producers and will have a world premiere July 8 at the Stonington Opera House. Additional performances will take place July 9 and 10 at… Read More
In spring, the poet tells us, a young man’s fancy often turns to love. I remain young – at heart, at least – so this spring, my thoughts turned to love, young love specifically, since my daughter and her boyfriend announced they planned to wed. Read More
The 3:45 a.m. alarm hit hard Friday, but I was out of bed and downstairs a few minutes later, just in time to watch the start of the funeral of Pope John Paul II. I had thought for several days about whether I could wake… Read More
The wailing came from MaggieBeth unexpectedly. My 4-year-old’s cries were a sure sign of agony. “I don’t want that man to die!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var new_slot_sizes = []; var has_banner… Read More
Upon parenthood, classical music became cool. First it was the “Mozart for Mothers” compact disc that was included in a baby-formula manufacturer’s complimentary diaper bag given to me at a prenatal visit. The intent was simple – I would play the music to relax during… Read More
I am an accidental chicken owner. Or I should say friend – “free range” and “own” just don’t mesh. A Rhode Island Red pecking about my yard was not something of which my dreams were made. Fresh eggs were not, in my mind, a culinary must-have. I can… Read More
Now that spring seems to be emerging, I have one burning question: What do I do with my stair machine? All winter, the exercise equipment in my home has been my personal connection to mental and physical well-being. But this time of year, indoor exercise… Read More
I once heard my grandmother complain that children don’t know how to play anymore. At the time, I didn’t know what she meant. That is, until I tried to buy a set of tiddlywinks. googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var… Read More
Motherhood, I am finding out, has its moments of truth, periods of time when split-second decisions can change the course of childhood and set a new standard on how to parent. These decisions don’t involve what diapers to buy or what pain reliever to choose… Read More
Each year, right about now, when the thawing odors start emanating from the backyard, I long for a whiff of fresh, green grass. Great literature asks, where are the snows of yesteryear? But I’m done with snow. I want something green. I blame that yearning… Read More
It’s 2 p.m. on a cold Sunday in March. Outside the Bangor International Airport terminal a light snow is falling, but inside a couple dozen friends and I have something else on our minds: greeting a World Air jumbo jet filled with 300 troops back from a year… Read More
It’s an experience you should try, if just once in your life: sleeping on the deck of a tall ship as it rocks gently beneath the star-filled heavens. It clears your mind. It helps you put things back in perspective. It reminds you what insignificant… Read More
“Phil? Phil Connors? I thought that was you!” Remember that line from the romantic fantasy “Groundhog Day”? googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var new_slot_sizes = []; var has_banner = false; for (var i = 0; i < slot_sizes.length; i++) {… Read More
If you have a favorite book that you read every few years or a certain symphonic work that you return to time and time again, then you know great art follows you around in life. It lingers uniquely in your imagination, reappearing occasionally to connect you in ways… Read More
We moved into our West Broadway home in the summer of 1978 and right before Christmas, I was invited to attend the annual neighborhood coffee, hosted by Frances Godfrey and Cornelia “Connie” Russell. I can still remember my apprehension as I rang the bell at the Prentiss Godfrey… Read More
I don’t have my family’s Christmas letter written yet. That comes as no surprise to my co-workers and friends who received my first and only Christmas letter in July of last year. Yes, July. googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var… Read More
Hark now, Hear the angels sing googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var new_slot_sizes = []; var has_banner = false; for (var i = 0; i < slot_sizes.length; i++) { if (isMobileDevice()) { if (slot_sizes[i][0] googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot… Read More
The ingredients in a can of One-Pie are simple: Prepared pumpkin or squash, depending on which variety you choose. But the choice ends there, at least in my family. googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var new_slot_sizes = []; var has_banner… Read More
Occasionally, as the person in a leadership position, I am asked to explain what influenced my development the most. While I can point to people and life experiences, the one activity that always comes to mind is the annual potato harvest, and the leadership lessons I learned as… Read More
The dance. The dragon. The legend. If you had to capture the essence of the National Folk Festival, which exploded 110,000 people strong last weekend on the Bangor waterfront, you could have easily found it at the Kenduskeag Dance Stage or at a parade of Chinese dancers along… Read More
My mother, Paula, has quite a few black-and-white photographs from her childhood hanging up in the spare room of her Bangor home. My sister, brothers and myself have always seen them, but I don’t think we’ve ever really grasped what they truly mean. We just… Read More
So there I was, pacing the lobby of Portland’s Merrill Auditorium early Sunday afternoon, minutes away from a 17-minute encounter with a living legend, Yoko Ono. “All right, everyone, follow me,” instructed Kathy Mills, public relations director of the Maine College of Art, whose 84… Read More
My brothers and sisters tell me Mom was a good cook. In my mind’s eye, I see the five of them, plus Mom and Dad, gathered around the kitchen table. It’s the 1950s and I am not yet born. My mother has on an apron and her hair… Read More
The breathing. That’s what I noticed first when I met George Daniell more than 10 years ago. He was in his 80s and his breathing was labored and thick when he moved. A tall heft of a man, he used a walker to clump from his kitchen, where… Read More
Winter has been unkind to southern Piscataquis County, a part of Maine facing so many other challenges you’d think Mother Nature might be more sympathetic. Perhaps that’s just seasonal affective disorder talking, but it’s as hardened on the brain this year as the frozen ground… Read More
They don’t call this the dead of winter for nothing. Everything that isn’t covered with snow looks gray, shriveled and barren. It seems like everyone – including humans – has gone into hibernation. When it’s this cold out, the idea of curling up and falling… Read More
He comes by sleigh. He comes by float. Once I even saw him arrive by parasail over a Caribbean beach. But whatever Santa’s conveyance or climate, he symbolizes the folk traditions of the holiday season in a big way. Big as in belly, big as in bag of… Read More
In town I’ll soon be known as the Kindling Lady. And with good reason. Even in a coastal Maine community where individuality is revered, I may be going too far. googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var new_slot_sizes = []; var… Read More
The recently issued Ogden Nash 37-cent postage stamp spurred a memory from 35 or so years ago. When I was a seventh-grader at the Buckley School in New York City, Mr. Nash, the light verse master, paid a visit to our English class. He was the grandfather of… Read More
I haven’t been outside in two weeks. I am staying indoors not because I’m lazy or sick. I stay indoors because I’m scared, because I live in northern Virginia. googletag.cmd.push(function () { // Define Slot var slot_sizes = [[300,250]]; var new_slot_sizes = []; var has_banner… Read More
The blue sky of a mild September morning vanished from sight as I climbed onto a chair and heaved my not-so-nimble body into the parking lot Dumpster at the Bangor Daily News. Cruising Dumpsters is not a usual pastime for this 50-year-old woman – at… Read More
If it were not for the Internet, MP3 files and MTV2, the Vans Warped Tour would not live in the minds and desires of the teens of Washington County. For good or bad, the plugged-in experience of even the most isolated U.S. citizen results in a taste for… Read More
A strong front came through last night as expected, pushing out the fog and southwest wind. At 9 a.m., I cast off my mooring line just as the tide turns, and head down Winter Harbor Sound in my Boston Whaler for the two-mile run. The… Read More
When I was a teen-ager, I dreaded St. Patrick’s Day and the inevitable corned beef and cabbage that Dad would boil up for dinner. He’d slice it and I’d dissect it, trying to separate the fat from the meat. (If you’ve ever eaten corned beef, you know this… Read More
I flew out of Bangor International Airport before the sun came up on a cold winter morning. If my mother’s memory is to be trusted – and who else would know better – the 5:30 a.m. departure marked the exact time I was born 50 years ago. Read More
Let me just begin by saying, right up front, that I am in high pout mode. And I have been for the last 20 or so hours. Round about 4 p.m. Sunday, I settled into my recliner, picked up the remote, and discovered our local… Read More
The ball of bright purple yarn grows smaller each day. Slowly, I knit it into 6-inch-by-6-inch squares. It might become, after I put all the squares together, an afghan, a warm weight of wool fabric to lay across my knees like a well-loved pet. Or I might lay… Read More
Our first date was completely unplanned, on the fly, a deep autumn night in Bangor. Meet in the parking lot of the Japanese restaurant, we had agreed on the phone. I got there first but the restaurant was closed. So I waited. Within minutes, a silver Lincoln Continental… Read More
In years past, a trip to New York City the weekend before Christmas usually meant shopping and sightseeing. In December 2001, visiting New York took on a whole new meaning for some people from Maine. We went to pay our respects and witness the aftermath… Read More
You probably love trimming the tree. Wrapping the presents. Putting out milk and cookies for Santa. Getting up this morning with the happiness of the day. These are The Holidays, after all, and you expect tidings of comfort and joy. My expectations for The Holidays… Read More
With roadside stands displaying blueberries, and freezers filling up with the blue beauties, it’s only fair to have a craving for a luscious dessert. In my family, we satisfy that desire with a simple but filling dish, passed down through at least four generations – the Bang-belly. Read More
The ’76 Fiat convertible was bright cherry red and had the kind of leather interior that on a summer day would make a bare leg feel like bacon in a hot frying pan. The entire tiny car would have fit inside the trunk of my father’s beloved, frigate-sized… Read More
Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of education, in the elder, a part of experience. – Francis Bacon, English philosopher Growing up, I often complained of my parents’ lack of interest in Disney World and Hawaii as family vacation spots. Many of my… Read More
I’m going back, going back to my own ones. Back to talk, talk awhile with my own ones. For the world is so cold. Don’t care nothin’ for your soul you share with your own ones. – Van Morrison, “Irish Heartbeat” On a balmy, heavy,… Read More
I first read Antoine de St-Exupery’s “Le Petit Prince” when I was a sophomore in high school, in Madame Labbe’s French class. We read it aloud, in a circle, our clumsy tongues tripping over words we had never spoken. At the time, we were too young to understand… Read More
Poor 2001. No one is talking about it. Even the purists who insist that this is the real turn of the millennium seem to have lost a little bit of fervor. After all the excitation and speculation surrounding Y2K, ushering in this new year seems… Read More
I suppose I must have been about 10 years old. There I was, sitting in an English class, when the teacher – I believe it may have been Mrs. Brown – told our class the news. Standing in front of the milky blackboard, she uttered a statement that… Read More
Fruitcake is the Al Gore of holiday food. No one really likes it. Few even respect it. No one wants it in the house for the holidays. It’s just kind of there. The Cobb Manor Center for Original Thought theory of fruitcake holds that there… Read More