Just Lucky
It is Thanksgiving. I know you knew that, but I had to start somewhere. Visions of turkeys at my grandmother’s house get stronger as the smells from the kitchen grow stronger. We sometimes had Thanksgiving at the homes of other relatives, but I only remember the ones at Nana’s. Heaping bowls of buttery mashed potatoes, tureens of gravy, piles of fresh rolls, casseroles of one kind or another involving green vegetables and thus suitable to be ignored by boys of a certain age. In the center, of course, would loom the turkeys. To a kid my age, they were always enormous, a wall of poultry, steaming, savory, the epitome of temptation. OK, this

Terror on Trial: Heart vs. Mind
There has been a lot of talk lately about the decision by Eric Holder, the U.S. Attorney General, to prosecute Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, the confessed mastermind of the Sept. 11, 2001 terror attacks on the U.S. and the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center, among other crimes. The decision to try Mohammed in a civilian court instead of having him face a military tribunal has been greeted by a lot of outrage and hand-wringing. It’s dangerous, some say. It’s what the terrorists want say others, so we shouldn’t give it to them, say others. It could give the terrorists reason to attack New York again, and threaten the court, the jurors, prosecutors, etc… M

A Full Moon Over Gettysburg, and the Confederate Colonoscopy
As many of you already know, I live in the Gettysburg area. My house sits about five miles south of the official battlefield park, scene of the famous July 1-3, 1863 fight that saw the high-water mark of the Confederacy, and the much-ballyhooed turning point of the American Civil War. It was also a portent of great wealth for the Asian manufacturers of little toy rifles and swords with which the darling children and grandchildren of tourists pretend jolly mayhem on one another. Of course, the battle took up a lot more space than just the 6,000-acre park. The road on which I live, for example, was the site of an encampment of troops serving under Union Gen. Abner

Pumpkins, Ahoy!
I suppose it was inevitable, in a way. Look. For one thing, coastal Maine was once famous for its tradition of shipbuilding. In fact, it’s only a short drive to one of the nation’s most famous shipyards in Bath. For another thing, for all the brevity of the growing season, folks in Maine are crazy for gardening. And, as good modern Americans, they are not immune to the outlook that a thing is made better if it gets made bigger. Given all that, I suppose growing pumpkins the size of compact cars and turning them into boats makes all the sense in the world. The Damariscotta Pumpkin Regatta has been held on or about Columbus Day for every one of th

A mini Burger to Go, Oct. 7, 2009
Oct. 7, Wednesday: As promised, a wet morning. I sat awhile by an open window, awash in the very cool air, and not a little of the wet, listening to the rain sighing on the open water, ticking against the glass. Across the harbor, a lobsterman’s boat idled, providing the bass line for the concert, a flock of crows in the trees across the harbor, the chorus. To hear the crows tell it, the performance is a tragedy, German, even Wagnerian, by the sound of it. But then, it is a cold rain, and they are in it.