Millennium Bug
Sagadahoc Stories #110:12/23/99
Millennium Bug
Pretty soggy. The glacial outwash clay we're sitting on has soaked rain like a sponge, and crossing the back forty is an exercise in suction. December feels more like October. Maybe we're going to replace winter with six months of mud season.
Before The Florist
The pace of visual change in Bowdoinham has slowed for the season,
although contractors are still out straight on the Gold Coast.
Danny's old garage is gone, and Sam the Florist finally got approval
to build on the site, despite the neighbors' objections. Now there's
a new foundation on the corner of the Brown's Point Road.
The town is renovating the old Central Chemical office building.
Jeanine and Dianne have committed to leasing the building. They
plan to open an antique and garden shop hard by the bridge. The
ladies have been collecting and peddling the good old stuff on
e-Bay, and now want a brick-and-mortar estab. Hard to ship that
antique fire truck.
Before the Antiquarians
After Effie
Houses in the village are changing hands like stud poker. Places
that have been for sale forever because of fanciful prices or
septic problems are being gobbled up. Ron sold the Big Yellow
and moved to Richmond, which hasn't been overpriced, yet. About
the only house not under contract is Effie's place at the top
of the hill. Even at $24,000, it's no bargain. It might take $50K
to renovate to modern standards. When Effie passed away this summer
at 100 the Boston Post Cane was handed down to Edna, who is a
mere 98, and still lunches at the restaurant with a bright smile.
After all the public wrangling over parking by the Abby, an ad
hoc solution has gone down. Boulders blocking access to a pull-off
under the powerlines east of the bridge have been removed. This
will provide enough parking for local use, without inviting a
wave of interlopers. If it stays this warm, the smelt fishing
controversy will be moot, anyhow.
Private Parking
The place is filling up with vaguely familiar faces, as folks
come home for the hols. You should always keep one family member
living in rural poverty so you can have an old fashioned Christmas.
We're flying to the Yucatan to celebrate with Seth, who's lying
on the beach in Tulum after a semester in Belize. We're betting
it won't be a White Christmas.
I wore my old Toymaker hat a bit this season. I had a toy portrait
promised to Mac Gillette, who has been collecting moose by Bryce
since the 70s. He used to run a camp called Moose Cove Lodge,
and every year I would summon up an articulated moose camper for
him. Kayaking, hiking, sailing a Hobie Cat, etc. Now Mac is retired
to Loon Point (I made a loon pointing for him, too), and wanted
a toy portrait of the big moose in repose.
All the figure drawing I've done in recent years has transformed
my animal-cross portraits. This woodland ruminant is nicely anthropomorphic,
lounging gracefully on a chaise. When you wave one arm he turns
his head and brings a glass of vodka to his lips. Sigh. As usual
all portraits are self-portraits: this one's a snapshot of the
Mainer at ease on the beach. Like in Tulum.
Dirigo Rising (Reprise)
Maid and Moose
That other moose, the one with the chainsaw, got hoisted up the side of a building this month. Dr. Bob and Mr. Mann helped me hang the beast, and his mermaid companion, on the wall of Marriner's Lumber in Damariscotta. A classic goat roping on a brisk morning. It took three tries to get it right. The first time nobody was ready at the yard, the second time we couldn't get the cherrypicker to lift, finally we resorted to block and tackle, using Ebba to do the hoisting. Next time we'll know what we're doing. Maybe. It's the perfect setting, two monstrous absurdities against a weathered red wall. We warmed ourselves with soups at Sarah's in Wiscasset.
The warm and cuddly phase of the presidential campaign is upon us, and to celebrate the season I installed three turkeys running on our lawn. Ben Franklin was right about the national bird. We prove that it's the turkey every four years.
Just Ducky
Keeping my promise to recapitulate all the styles I've worked
in, I made a toddler toy for Sophia. A pull "duck". Kind of long
necked for a duck, I say, but Peggy points out that ducks don't
have wheels, either. On delivery I discovered that Ducky has a
long neck so he can be led by the beak at hand height. She's happily
silly, and has other serendipitous features. When she falls on
her face, the pull cord connector protects the beak from breaking.
She waddles fine in reverse. I'm not sure what this symbolizes,
yet.
Concocting Mac the Moose and Ducky showed me it's easy to forget how mechanisms work. I had to saw Mac apart twice to get his rig working, and it took 8 legs and wheels on Ducky before I remembered that a swatch plate runs vertically for an horizontal oscillation. Years of practice don't help, if they were years ago. I'd also forgotten what fun a stupid mechanism can be.
We are riding the stupid mechanisms down to the New Millennium,
hoping they work until the 31st, at least. In honor of the great
divide, I've devised a toy for the New Year's Babe. A MILLENNIUM
BUG. It was designed to be manufactured, but the deal fell through.
Now I can make hardwood originals for this infant era. Turn the
"Glitch that Stole New Years" into a plaything.
Tumble Bug
Hope you tumble happily into 2000.
