Vacationland
When you cross into Maine on I-95 you do so over the Piscataqua River Bridge. On that bridge is a sign which says simply:
I love this freaking sign. It is small, simple, unpretentious, and one of the most exciting sights known to this human person.
It would take more than two hands to count the number of times I’ve been to Maine. It was almost always the family vacation when I was little, and then again when I was a little older. I’ve gone with an ex-boyfriend and his family (he wasn’t an ex at the time, but you get it) and I’ve gone to visit my cousin at her college. I’ve stayed at a lake house, near a state park, on various islands, and right on the coast in multiple places. I’ve eaten blueberries (and avoided eating lobster) all over the state. I’ve gone geocaching, hiking, swimming, and written for and appeared in a musical at a summer camp. A trip to Maine always includes eating ice cream, climbing on rocks, searching for seals, trying candy shops, and buying souvenirs. And even when it’s crowded, it’s not nearly as crowded as other vacation destinations. It is one of my very favorite places to be. For some folks Hawaii is paradise; for me it is Maine.
For all of the things I love about the state, the one thing I do not understand is the people who live there. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to live there, but I don’t think I could do it and actually support myself.
Ordinarily I think I have a pretty decent work ethic. It escapes me every now and then, especially after we’ve had a big meal for lunch at the office, but for the most part if I’m being paid I’m going to put effort into the work. But Maine is, as the sign says, Vacationland. You can’t work when you’re in Vacationland. It wouldn’t be right! That would be like going to Disneyland and only hanging out in the parking lot. Or going to Iceland only to complain about the ice and cold. It doesn’t even make sense.
And yet every time I’m in Maine I see people carrying on and working hard at their jobs. This amazes me and begs the question: where do the people who live in Maine go on vacation? They already live in Vacationland…
As much as I love visiting Maine I know I could never live there. I would be a terrible citizen, never doing an honest day’s work unless someone up there was willing to pay me to be a professional relaxed person. I’d overdose every day on caffeine and sugar and fresh air and bug spray. There wouldn’t be enough blueberries in the state to keep up with my demand and probably Rockport Harbor would ban me from their town for showing up every day to talk to the Andre the Seal statue.
There is no conclusion to draw here: Maine is simply the best. I wish I could live there, but that would probably spoil the appeal - too much of a good thing and all. Instead I will settle for visiting regularly and enjoying the hell out of it every time, starting from the very moment I pass under that simple sign which, for me, might as well say, “Welcome to Paradise”.
