We all have various signs that tell us spring is here.
The tax deadline looms, the Red Sox are sputtering out of the gate and the Bruins are wrapping up another early exit. Notice I didn’t mention the Celtics. Apparently they’re going to be visible this spring.
I know it is spring when I’m actually working outside again. Now standing on the side of a snow-covered mountain at the U.S. Alpine Ski Championships at Sugarloaf earlier this month doesn’t quite count. I’ve already covered two softball games outside in the last week and have another today. After existing in stale, stifling basketball gyms or frigid hockey rinks over the winter months, it is nice to see the light of day again. Granted, it can be a bit like roulette. I never know what kind of weather I might get at these early spring games. That’s why I have a whole arsenal of coats in my car. I’m ready for just about any situation. I even have my plastic bag at the ready, which I use to cover my scorebook while covering a game in the rain. Hopefully, I’ll have nothing more than these 70-degree temperatures for the rest of the softball season. I can live with that.
All that aside, the real signs of spring to me isn’t the IRS, the Red Sox or another softball season in Maine. It is the osprey that has returned to Maine and has nested back on Spaulding Island in our cove. It is the eider ducks that swim by, replacing the harlequin ducks that have headed back to New Foundland. It is the ability to drive my car with the window open and the radio cranked. It is my version of driving with the top down.
Then there is Dorman’s. This is the ice cream place in Thomaston. It is a place I’ve gone since I was a kid. The place is even older than me. Yes, it is THAT old. When it opens for the season in mid-April that tells me that it is spring for sure. There have been years where I’ve stood in its gravel parking lot, shivering from the cold April temperatures and ordering ice cream. It was anything but ice cream weather, but Dorman’s was open. Spring had arrived.
I made my first trip back to Dorman’s last week. It is really the only ice cream place I ever go to. I’ll hit DQ once in awhile for a slush on a really hot day, but that may be the lone exception. There are a number of dairy places around home, yet I can count on one hand the total that I’ve been to in two decades here.
Dorman’s is the place that was always a treat to go to as a kid. One trip we’d be allowed to get whatever we wanted (within reason), but the next trip we’d have to settle for an ice cream sandwich or something like it. It is nice to be all grown up (yes, I know it’s a stretch for me to say that) and discard those rules and buy whatever I want. When I won a bet that the Red Sox would be in first place by July 4, the prize was a sundae at Dorman’s. I was young and naïve in those days and would actually bet with my heart rather than my head. Not sure I’d even bet the Sox will be in first this July, but it is looking good. When I injured my knee and couldn’t drive for two months, I celebrated my return to the road with a trip to Dorman’s (after a quick stop at Wasses' hot dogs). My Dad used to pull his car right up to the front of the building. I’d explain to him that the place was not a drive-through. He’d explain that he wanted to see what the flavors were. “Dad, they’ve been serving the same flavors for 50 years!” I’d tell him.
These days, Dorman’s is getting a bit squeezed out by big business, but it still thrives. That strip of Route One is starting to resemble the corporate corridor you see everywhere. The diner (where I ate my first whole pizza solo) that used to be across the street is now a hotel with a movie theater and chain eatery next door. A Lowe's is being built next to them. There’s a new development moving in right next to Dorman’s. They apparently tried to buy Dorman’s out, but Dorman’s held firm. The little shack that has served up ice cream is still going strong after 50-plus years.
Today, I’ve got a softball game in the warm spring sun. I’ll probably drive with my car window down and the tunes arockin’. And, just to make sure it is spring, I’ll stop at Dorman’s on my arrival in the Midcoast.
After all, we should support these small businesses and fight the corporate takeover of our traditions. I’m ready for that battle, with nuts and whipped cream on top.
The tax deadline looms, the Red Sox are sputtering out of the gate and the Bruins are wrapping up another early exit. Notice I didn’t mention the Celtics. Apparently they’re going to be visible this spring.
I know it is spring when I’m actually working outside again. Now standing on the side of a snow-covered mountain at the U.S. Alpine Ski Championships at Sugarloaf earlier this month doesn’t quite count. I’ve already covered two softball games outside in the last week and have another today. After existing in stale, stifling basketball gyms or frigid hockey rinks over the winter months, it is nice to see the light of day again. Granted, it can be a bit like roulette. I never know what kind of weather I might get at these early spring games. That’s why I have a whole arsenal of coats in my car. I’m ready for just about any situation. I even have my plastic bag at the ready, which I use to cover my scorebook while covering a game in the rain. Hopefully, I’ll have nothing more than these 70-degree temperatures for the rest of the softball season. I can live with that.
All that aside, the real signs of spring to me isn’t the IRS, the Red Sox or another softball season in Maine. It is the osprey that has returned to Maine and has nested back on Spaulding Island in our cove. It is the eider ducks that swim by, replacing the harlequin ducks that have headed back to New Foundland. It is the ability to drive my car with the window open and the radio cranked. It is my version of driving with the top down.
Then there is Dorman’s. This is the ice cream place in Thomaston. It is a place I’ve gone since I was a kid. The place is even older than me. Yes, it is THAT old. When it opens for the season in mid-April that tells me that it is spring for sure. There have been years where I’ve stood in its gravel parking lot, shivering from the cold April temperatures and ordering ice cream. It was anything but ice cream weather, but Dorman’s was open. Spring had arrived.
I made my first trip back to Dorman’s last week. It is really the only ice cream place I ever go to. I’ll hit DQ once in awhile for a slush on a really hot day, but that may be the lone exception. There are a number of dairy places around home, yet I can count on one hand the total that I’ve been to in two decades here.
Dorman’s is the place that was always a treat to go to as a kid. One trip we’d be allowed to get whatever we wanted (within reason), but the next trip we’d have to settle for an ice cream sandwich or something like it. It is nice to be all grown up (yes, I know it’s a stretch for me to say that) and discard those rules and buy whatever I want. When I won a bet that the Red Sox would be in first place by July 4, the prize was a sundae at Dorman’s. I was young and naïve in those days and would actually bet with my heart rather than my head. Not sure I’d even bet the Sox will be in first this July, but it is looking good. When I injured my knee and couldn’t drive for two months, I celebrated my return to the road with a trip to Dorman’s (after a quick stop at Wasses' hot dogs). My Dad used to pull his car right up to the front of the building. I’d explain to him that the place was not a drive-through. He’d explain that he wanted to see what the flavors were. “Dad, they’ve been serving the same flavors for 50 years!” I’d tell him.
These days, Dorman’s is getting a bit squeezed out by big business, but it still thrives. That strip of Route One is starting to resemble the corporate corridor you see everywhere. The diner (where I ate my first whole pizza solo) that used to be across the street is now a hotel with a movie theater and chain eatery next door. A Lowe's is being built next to them. There’s a new development moving in right next to Dorman’s. They apparently tried to buy Dorman’s out, but Dorman’s held firm. The little shack that has served up ice cream is still going strong after 50-plus years.
Today, I’ve got a softball game in the warm spring sun. I’ll probably drive with my car window down and the tunes arockin’. And, just to make sure it is spring, I’ll stop at Dorman’s on my arrival in the Midcoast.
After all, we should support these small businesses and fight the corporate takeover of our traditions. I’m ready for that battle, with nuts and whipped cream on top.
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