A Quayle of a Pick

As the radio crackled with static, the NBC radio affiliate broke in with a news flash. John McCain's pick for VP was about to be announced.

Through the white noise I thought I heard the name Palin.

"Wow," I thought. "He picked Michael Palin."

I couldn't help but think about the Monty Python star singing the "Lumberjack Song" at the Gathering of Doom and Evil next week in Minnesota.

Then I saw clips of the actual announcement of McCain's VP, saw the poofy hair and realized it wasn't Michael Palin. He had picked one of the B52's. Okay, singing "Love Shack" at the convention next week would be a hoot also.

Then I got all the facts. It was Sarah Palin. The governor of Alaska. I guess the Dems have to give up on the Eskimo and Polar Bear vote.

Seriously, I remember hearing Palin's name, but I dismissed it. Remember, I had said that my gut felt that McCain would pick a name out of the blue. I wasn't thinking he'd pick one almost out of the continent.

He barely knows Palin himself. I don't know whether it's just his thing for former beauty pageant contestants or whether started to peruse a list of potential state governors and got too tired by the time he reached Alaska.

Palin is certainly an interesting choice. Obviously, McCain wanted to shake up things a bit. Of course, Walter Mondale felt he needed to shake things up and selected Geraldine Ferraro. How did that work out? Ronald Reagan could have run with Bonzo the chimp and won easily. (He didn't run with a chimp, however, but with the father of a jackass).

Palin is newbie governor who is probably a card caring member of the Pat Buchanan Fan Club. She's ultra conservative, bordering on extreme. Obviously, McCain's hope is that Palin will shore up his base and energize the throng of conservatives - also known as the close-minded religious zealots. It's like he picked a combination of Grizzly Adams and Mrs. Ned Flanders.

To do that, however, he has sacrificed his theme of questioning Obama's readiness. He really can't harp on Obama's lack of experience when as Keith Olbermann stated "Palin makes Obama look like John Adams." That was McCain's best argument against Obama. Actually, it was his only argument.

With Palin, he'll now focus on the message of being reformers and mavericks. It will be their counter claim to Obama's change message. But when their politics are so extreme and conservative, I don't know how maverick they can be to independents or anyone else. As Bob Casey said, they're so aligned with Bush and Cheney, they're not mavericks, they're sidekicks.

She softens the appearance that McCain is a rich old crow that is out of touch with working American's. He still is, but she doesn't seem to be. She eats moose for crying out loud.

I don't see what states Palin helps McCain win - other than Alaska (which McCain was going to win anyway). Certainly, she might drum up support in the conservative blocks, but I think Joe Biden's populist message works better in places like Michigan, Ohio and Pennsylvania.

Palin, I think, is a bit of a hail Mary pick. McCain needed something out of the norm. As I said before, I thought McCain would want to find something other than the Pawlenty's, Romney's and typical stiff white Grand Old Party bores. Palin is kind of like a third-down-and-very-long play. It might be a play he felt he needed. The polls already have McCain down by seven or eight points and that was before Obama's speech Thursday. His only hope might have been to change the dynamics and bit. And, I suppose, it might work.

But, I doubt it. I think there might be some backlash from some Republicans. Pawlenty and Romney's people are already miffed. Some are calling this the worst pick since Old Man Bush picked Dan Quayle.

I think her lack of experience will be revealed at some point. Joe Biden will have to be careful against her in a debate (he can't appear to bully her) but he should be able to expose her weaknesses. The fact that McCain is 72 and just picked a VP, who admitted hasn't paid much attention to foreign policy, is pretty scary. I think that won't play well.

I don't think Palin will help draw the Hillary Clinton voters. They're not going to jump on the bandwagon of someone that extreme. If anything, her selection might produce blowback. McCain picking a women looks a little like pandering or, worse, degrading, assuming soccer mom's will just up vote for her because she's a woman.

I think the negatives will ultimately outweigh the positives. I see Palin becoming a bit of a laughing stock, a female Dan Quayle from Alaska. I think her lack of experience will be exposed at some point. Somewhere along the line, I see her being a major detriment - that's saying a lot when McCain doesn't even know Czechoslovakia no longer exists or can't tell Sunni from Shiites.

She has a good story and appears to be a tough and promising candidate, but I don't think she's ready for prime time. The media scrutiny she faces in Alaska might pale in comparison to the national press. Notice I said "pale in" get it?

I think that will come into play and ultimately, this pick by McCain will be a failure. Usually, the VP pick doesn't decide elections, just ask Dan Quayle, but I think if Palin is a bust, it could be significant enough in a close race. Voters will ultimately decide that she is not change that they can believe in.

Of course, if she does a killer version of the "Lumberjack Song" at the convention, all bets are off.

Prime Chimes Times

Next week I sail on the Victory Chimes for the sixth straight year. It is a week I anxiously await all year long. I'll recap my trip when I return, but for now, here's a look back at the previous six years. Every day aboard the historic three-masted schooner is great day, but here are my favorite days on the Victory Chimes:

July 2003 - From Burnt Coat Harbor to the islands off Stonington

Anchored in Burnt Coat Harbor, on the South side of Swan's Island, we waited a bit in the morning hoping that the fog would lift. It did slightly, but it still lingered as we left.

When we got into Jericho Bay we were greeted with fog, rain and heavy winds. The Captain said at one point it was gusting nearly 40 miles per hour. The boat was rocking pretty good.

The weather was so poor on deck, they chose to have lunch down below. It was the first time I noticed that the texture on the tables in the saloon is such that the plates don't slide.

Two girls from Florida had already been wrapped up in their winter parkas the day before. The blustery wind and rollicking seas didn't help their warmth or their stomachs.

Me, on the other hand, loved it. I sat on the bench on the quarterdeck and watched the ship toss back and forth. The wind would hit the sails like a fist and make the vessel lurch. I sat back cheering silently with every gust.

We were headed toward Stonington but the fog was so thick, the Captain chose to duck in for cover near Hells Half Acre and Coombs Island.

We anchored there for the night and took a quick trip ashore to Coombs Island in the afternoon. We sat around in the fog that evening and shared ghost stories.

We've had heavy wind and rough seas on other days in my six years but nothing like that trip across Jericho Bay.

July 2003 - From Stonington across Eastern Penobscot Bay to Carver's Cove off the Fox Island Thorofare.

Anchored amidst the islands off Stonington, we left that spot in the morning and yawled it over to Stonington itself. Still foggy from the weather the day before, boats were going ashore for sightseeing in Stonington. The Captain warned that thunder showers could be possible. Of course, forgetting that he has the weather radar at his disposal, I looked at the skies and figured, it doesn't look too bad. I didn't pack any foul weather gear and went ashore.

Sure enough, a heavy thunderstorm came through. And, I don't like thunderstorms. As the skies opened and the thunder rumbled, I hunkered under cover in the Purple Fish. It's an eclectic little shop with antiques/junk. One of the owners makes bookmarks with the schooners on them. Her husband sings sea shanties. He wasn't there that day. Good thing, listening to him sing as I anxiously awaited the storms to stop would have been too much to take.

I skipped the first trip back to the boat, but when the yawl boat began coming back, I had no choice but to venture into the thunderstorm. Running on a bad knee, that had been surgically repaired the year before, I hobbled my way down the street and back to the harbor. We crowded into the yawl boat and began the short trip back to the Chimes, only to see it rain harder. Michael commented that "It always rains when we go into Stonington." Now he tells us.

We huddled under a tarp but were all soaked. As the picture proves.

After leaving Stonington, we inched our way through fog across Eastern Penobscot Bay. The seas were pretty heavy. There were significant swells that had the ship rolling. I loved it, but one girl from Florida wasn't too enthused. She was sea sick most of the afternoon. The Captain wasn't too pleased either when another ship cut him off in the fog. He got a good yelling at.

We crossed the bay and entered the Fox Island Thorofare. I could hear Goose Rocks Lighthouse but couldn't see it. We maneuvered around so as to drop the hook inside Carver's Cove. It's a small cove behind Widow's Island on the Eastern entrance to the Thorofare.

It was an early anchorage for us but as the afternoon progressed the sun came out and the fog burned off. Michael gathered us all around and began to tell us a story which began "No $#%^, there we were." He then chronicled a less than fictional tale about warning people not to go into Stonington. The people ignored him and got soaked in the process, despite the efforts of the heroic future first mate. It had us all laughing heartily, and his little intro became out catch phrase for the rest of the week.
In the evening, we cracked open a bottle of wine someone had purchased in Stonington. There was no beer to be found in town at that time. A small group of us hung around on deck and got a bit unruly as the evening went on. At one point, Abby had to warn us that we were too noisy. She didn't want us to wake Todd, the first mate. We tried to quiet down and suggested the sign language teacher tell us jokes in sign language. That didn't help us quiet down at all. She even started teaching us dirty words in sign language. It only provoked more laughter and noise.

I wrote a bit of a poem later in the week. It referred to that evening with the lines "Abby came up, gave us heck. She threw our asses off the deck."

I ended that day by trying to sleep topside. I had been able to look at Goose Rocks all day and watch it shine its light that evening. I wanted to sleep on deck with its red light flashing and fog horn sounding. After a little while, I gave up on sleeping on deck and returned to my bunk.

It was one of the funnest days I've had on board, but the best thing was being able to spend the day with Goose Rocks in view and watching it shine at night.

September 2004, Swan's Island

We sailed out the first day through the Fox Island Thorough, past Stonington and into Blue Hill Bay. We anchored at Swan's Island, but unlike the previous year when we visited Burnt Coat Harbor, we were on the other side of the island. That evening we saw one of the most glorious sunsets I have ever seen. Looking across Blue Hill Bay and towards Mount Desert Island, the entire sky glowed with incredible light and colors. Sunsets and sunrises have provided some of the greatest moments on board the Chimes, but none of them compared to dusk that evening.

September 2004, From Brooklin, to Bucks Harbor, around Cape Rosier and into a cove outside Castine Harbor.

I'm not sure we ever saw the sun this day. It was the second day of the trip. We were anchored in Brooklin, where the Wooden Boat school is. We awoke to heavy fog. We went ashore and checked out Wooden Boat during the morning. This was the time that a group from Wooden Boat approached Michael as we unloaded at the dock. They asked whether they could take some students out to visit the Chimes. Michael's reply, pointing to their gear on the dock, was "Depends how much beer you have in that bag." They didn't seem to know what to make of that answer. I just laughed all the way up the pier.

As the fog lifted later, we made our way down the Eggemoggin Reach. It was my first trip down the Reach, and subsequently, the first venture under the Deer Isle-Stonington bridge. By late morning/afternoon, we were stopping for a quick visit to Buck's Harbor. We went ashore there and were on our way around Cape Rosier. We didn't have much wind. The yawl boat pushed us much of the way around Cape Rosier. Though we didn't have the sun, we had a good view of the land. We all sat on the starboard side of the vessel spotting bald eagles and gawking at the houses.

We pulled into a cove near Holbrook Island and Nautilus Rock and spent the night. A storm was coming the following day. We visited Castine that next morning and returned to the same anchorage to wait out the rain. One guy, from Kentucky, asked Michael "Isn't this where we last night?" He answered emphatically, "No -- Last night we were right over there." Pointing to a spot a few yards or so away.

September 2004, From outside Castine down Western Penobscot Bay to Owls Head and then to Rockland.

After waiting out the weather Thursday, we used the fifth day of the trip to sail down Western Penobscot Bay. We left our anchorage near Holbrook Island as the fog began to lift. It remained cloudy for much of the day, but we had good wind. Our bow was bouncing up and down most of the voyage down the Bay.

We had a great view of Islesboro and the mainland, from Searsport, to Belfast, Camden, Rockport and Rockland.

Goldie, a galley hand that year, decorated a potato and brought it on deck. The Captain put it on display with his charts. We named the potato, but I forget it's name. It was later chomped on by Raquel, the Captain's dog.

We pulled into Owls Head later in the day. A boat went ashore, and I decided to go along, even though visiting Owls Head Harbor or the lighthouse is not a rare opportunity.

I sat on the rocks to take pictures of the Chimes at anchor but then realized that the vessel wasn't anchored anymore. It was moving. It had raised the anchor and pulled out of the harbor. I was wondering what was going on, but figured the ship wasn't leaving (even if it wanted to). The Captain's wife and dog were still ashore. Plus, I was in Owls Head. I was only a few miles from home.

When we returned to the Chimes, the appetizers were served, a dip using the leftover lobster. At the same time, the Captain announced we were leaving Owls Head Harbor. He was dragging his anchor, and he wanted to try Rockland Harbor. Because the wind was blowing so hard, the crew needed our help in getting the vessel underway. So, we had to divide our attention between sailing and eating the appetizers. Sometimes sailing can be hard. Needless to say, we had a flawless sail set - and got back to the lobster dip.

We got under sail and out around Owls Head Lighthouse (photo to the left). We were met with a potent wind that blew across Rockland Harbor. We had a pretty good sail. The Captain, at one point yelled out to the cook, "Hold on to the turkey's Pammy!" The final night on board typically means a turkey dinner.

We anchored inside the Rockland Breakwater and had nice sunset that evening, despite the glow of the Home Depot.

The next morning, Raquel and I watched a wonderful dawn as the sun rose over North Haven and the Breakwater.

September 2005 From Port Clyde to Isle Au Haut

I awoke to the sound of the Port Clyde fishing boats leaving the Harbor as the day broke. It was a nice quiet sunrise with fishing boats, sloops and the schooner American Eagle in the harbor with us.

We started the second day of the trip by hauling out late because we had to wait on getting lobsters. There was talk the night before that we'd be headed for Monhegan Island. Of course, I had forgotten to charge my camera battery that morning while the generator was on. So, I begged Kelli to see if she could "charge my battery" for me in the galley. She did so, only if I promised to get her a Sun Journal Red Sox Championship t-shirt (which I did).

When we finally passed Marshall Point Lighthouse, the Captain steered the vessel East instead of West. He said because of a storm making its way, he wanted to be in Penobscot Bay instead. Sitting on the bench on the quarterdeck (where I can eavesdrop on the Captain's conversations), I heard him say we might go to a particular harbor. I didn't recognize the name but looked it up on my chart and discovered it was on the Eastern Penobscot Bay side of Vinalhaven.

We sailed through the outer channel of the Mussel Ridge Islands, which we had sailed the day before. I spotted my cottage in a brief instance as we passed the slight opening where I could view it through binoculars.

As we approached Vinalhaven, I spotted a whale in the water. The Captain saw it also, but I think we were the only ones that got a look at it.

We sailed past Heron Neck Light and could see Saddleback as well. At one point, the Captain began talking on the radio about anchoring in Isle Au Haut. That pleased me because I'd always wanted to go to Isle Au Haut.

He hadn't anchored there in quite some time but decided to give it a try. It made for a later anchorage than usual and had Raquel "anxious" about getting ashore to find a fire hydrant.

We anchored just outside the Thorofare. It was Lobster Night. So Lenny had his game-face on.
He and I went claw to claw and each finished with four. It was the first and last time I was able to keep up with him on Lobster Night.

That evening we had a glorious sunset and hung around on deck to hear some stories. Michael and I discussed whether we could see Goose Rocks Light from where we were. He said we couldn't. I was adamant that we could.

It was a great trip across that part of the Bay, but being able to anchor alongside Isle Au Haut (and go ashore the following morning) fulfilled my hopes of seeing that part of the Maine coast.

September 2005, Smith Cove, down Western Penobscot Bay to Islesboro
Smith Cove, from what I understand, is near where some of my ancestors had their shipbuilding operation. My great, great grandfather's house was barely visable from our anchorage, and it was exciting to be in a cove where my Mills, Douglass, Wasson and Farnham ancestors certainly had sailed.

I was up early and got some great photos of the sunrise. After breakfast, we hauled out and tied up to the mooring outside Castine. Some went ashore. Having been in Castine the year before, I stayed on board.

I went below at one point, and Kelli said something about what Adele was doing in the galley. She literally pushed me into the galley to give me a look. Before I knew it, I was holding blueberries on a donut while Adele turned the pastry into a female. Let's just say the blueberries I was holding in place were not the eyes. We would name it Vickie, and I've never looked at donuts the same way since.

When we pulled out of Castine, we headed down Western Penobscot Bay. We didn't have as much wind as we had the year before on a similar sail, but we had sun.

At one point, I went down below in the afternoon. I descended the rear companionway and began down the hall. I heard Kelli say "Here comes Kevin, he'll help you." I turned around and ran the other way, but my curiosity got the best of me. Having not learned by lesson with the donuts, I had to investigate what Adele was up to now.

When I got to the saloon, she had a coat hanger in her hand. She asked if I could straighten it. Being the big strong brute that I am, I did just that. I asked her what she needed the wire for, and she told me she had dropped her cell phone down the bilge.

She led me into her room and showed me the hole it had fallen down. Apparently, she had put the phone by the port hole, not knowing the hole was there. When the phone slipped from her grasp, it went down the hole a good three feet.

I stuck my hand into the hole but could only reach down as far as my elbow. I put the wire in to see how deep the hole was, and there was no way an arm was going to reach down far enough. At least not a huge bulging bicep like mine. So, the plan was that Adele would use the wire. I'd hold a flashlight into the hole so she could see. I cleared the top bunk of boxes (that's where the ship's store merchandise was stored). She climbed onto the top bunk and began fishing into the hole. After a few moments, she was able to hook it and bring it up. She was a pretty happy girl, and I had done my good deed for the day.

We sailed into Islesboro in the late afternoon and anchored there for the night. We had a fantastic sunset, but it was also a bit bittersweet because it was our final night and we'd be sailing back to Rockland the next morning.

September 2006, From Swan's Island, through Stonington, across Eastern Penobscot Bay into the Little Thorofare by North Haven.

We had anchored at Swan's Island on Wednesday and sailed out through Stonington Thursday. It was the sunniest day of the week. Therefore, it had been determined that the couple on board that had planned to get married would be wed on this day. What we didn't know was where the wedding would take place.

As we sailed across Eastern Penobscot Bay, I had hopes of going to Carver's Cove. That's where we had anchored on my first trip. It was one of my favorites spots because I could see Goose Rocks Lighthouse. I hadn't been sitting on the quarterdeck to listen in for any clues the Captain might give. I was daring him to surprise me.

But, judging by the direction and the time of the afternoon, I thought Carver's Cove might be likely. I was excited. That's certainly where I'd want to get married. (Like it would ever be my decision).

But, just as we got near the entrance to the Thorofare, he tacked to the Northeast - away from the Fox Island Thorofare. At first, I thought maybe he was just doing an about to kill time before anchoring, but soon enough, he was headed in between the islands off North Haven. It was what is called the Little Thorofare. It's a small opening between North Haven, Stimpson Island, Burnt Island and Calderwood. One of my Douglass ancestors once owned one of those islands.

We dropped anchor and had the wedding that afternoon. It was a nice sunny day for it and the brief ceremony went off well. We had plenty of photographers and even some video coverage of the event. Adele and Sally had put together a nice basket of gifts we had all collected for the bride and groom. I did my part by not hiding that basket on Adele and Sally. (I had told them where they could store it so it wouldn't be seen. I thought for a moment that I could move it elsewhere but didn't, knowing I'd be the immediate and only suspect).

We sat around following the wedding and discussed having a party that evening. That's when Mark told us that he had beer in his room.

We had the wedding cake on deck under a nice sunset. During the evening, we stood around and laughed about Mark's comment about beer in his room. Someone mentioned that we should all go visit him, knocking on his door expecting a party. My idea was that we should be IN his room when he arrived. When he appeared headed for his room, we gathered whoever we could and rushed down the back companionway. We all hid in Mark's room. We had arranged for his father to stall him a little. When he opened the door, we all shouted and made like there was a party going on. It was pretty funny.

The fog moved in that evening. I couldn't see Goose Rocks from where we were anchored, but I sat on deck and listened to its fog horn echoing through the Thorofare.

September 2007, From Bass Harbor out to Frenchboro around Swan's Island and into Stonington.

Bass Harbor is a lot like Port Clyde. Early in the morning, the fishermen are up and on their way. Many had passed us before the sun even came up over MDI. I was up early to watch the sunset.

We had no idea where we might be headed. Being Wednesday morning, there were many possibilities. Some hoped for Bar Harbor or Southwest Harbor. Swans Island seemed feasible.

We pulled up anchor and sailed out past Bass Harbor Light. From there, we continued South as if we were headed out to sea. We passed the Gott Islands and could see Great Duck Island in the distance.

We got well offshore and had a great view of the mountains on Mount Desert Island. We were so far out we were all on alert to spot whales. We had a sunny day and some good wind.

We sailed out past Frenchboro and got out to the backside of Swan's Island. At one point out there, we could see the back side of Isle Au Haut, but the most impressive part of the trip was we could see the mountains on MDI on the right while on the left were the Camden Hills. It's not often someone can see both mountain ranges in one panoramic view, but we had it.

We had lunch down below because it was too windy. That's when the whale appeared. A call came down from topside that a whale had been sighted. People raced up on deck to get a look.

There were a couple of other sightings later in the day.

As we neared Isle Au Haut, we tacked into Jericho Bay and charted a course toward Stonington. We pulled into a small inlet between islands, just across from Stonington Harbor.

We actually pulled in fairly early in the day. It allowed me to take the rowboat and row around the cove a bit. Two other passengers took the kayak out and got into a bit of trouble when they paddled outside of the cove and around the islands. Apparently, the "stay within view" order didn't register with them.

We had a nice sunset that evening, capping off a wonderful day where we all got to sail somewhere none of us had ever been.

Biden His Time

Told ya.

I decided that Joe Biden would be the VP candidate for Barack Obama before the Democratic nominee himself made his selection. I picked Biden last Sunday. Obama decided on him later in the week. I think it was a good choice by both of us.

I like Biden because of his foreign policy credentials and his attack-dog ability, but I like him even more now that I've had a chance to think it over at length. His populist style, his energetic campaigning and his straight talking is not only a good fit but should make Obama a better candidate.

I see Biden being Obama's hit man. He'll protect him and give him space and allow him to stay on message. The bullying that has knocked Obama off track in recent weeks should end with Biden. His bark is as good as his bite. The fact that he's a regular Joe makes him all that much better.

I liken it to the role a hockey tough guy provides the skill guys on the ice in a hockey. Biden will earn respect for his toughness and his experience and that will not only bolster Obama but help ground him for the working-class blue collar voters he needs to reach. I really liked Jim Webb as a potential running mate, but I think Biden brings a lot of things Webb did and more.

As for the Republicans, as I said before, I think Biden's selection forces McCain's hand a bit. I think he has to go with Romney. He might want to pick Tom Ridge or Joe Liebermann, but he can't because he has to bow down to the conservatives. He might want Tim Pawlenty, but McCain knows he can't match up with Biden.

That leaves McCain with his own change candidate - because Romney has changed his position so often. I don't think he wants to pick Romney. If he can find a way and a reason to pick somebody else and still have a chance to win, he will. I don't see that happening though. He has to go with Romney.

And, I can't wait to see Romney have a sit-down with Biden in a debate. Pretty Boy Romney might just get that verbal wedgie he deserves.

One last thing. Anybody notice that Obama's text message that announced Biden as his VP came at 3 a.m.? Remember, Hillary Clinton ran that "3 a.m. ad" which questioned what happens if an emergency call comes in at 3 a.m. None of the pundits have picked up on that so far. It might be just a coincidence, but I think it would be funny if Obama's people sat around and said "wouldn't it be funny to send the text message at 3 a.m (with that ad in mind).

Veep, Veep Part Deuce

Since I posted my VP picks, Biden has become the favorite to be Obama's right-hand man. Apparently, they WERE waiting for my input. It seems likely that Biden will be the guy.

The Republicans appear less certain. I think their pick may have a great deal to do with what Obama does. If Biden is the selection, I wonder if Pawlenty's stock drops. I see Biden opening a can of whoop-ass on Pawlenty in a debate. I think McCain would prefer someone like Ridge or Liebermann but knows the fallout from the right could be fatal. He may stick with Pawlenty or feel as though he has to suck it up and pick Romney and his hair gel.

It may depend on where McCain stands in another week or so. If he needs a safe pick, Pawlenty is the guy. If needs to take a risk he might go for Ridge or Liebermann. If he settles for something in between, it will be Romney. I think he really wants Ridge or Liebermann.

Of course, Obama has scheduled to campaign appearance Saturday in Springfield. That might fuel speculation that Obama has indeed selected Ralph Wiggum. If that's the case, McCain would have no choice but to select Ned Flanders.

Veep, Veep!!

Who's going to be vice-president?

Who gets to oversee the fumagation and excoricism after ridding the VP quarters of the dark and evil presence that currently lingers there? Hopefully, it is someone that has a copy of the Constitution, some ethics and the name of a good exterminator.

The current VP stakes doesn't have the entire nation or world on the edge of their seats in anticipation - unless, of course, Michael Phelps were in the running. I had thought I'd make predictions for the two VP candidates, but when I went on vacation, I figured the selections would be made by the time I returned. Apparently, they're awaiting my approval. So here goes.

Democrats: For the longest time, I thought for sure it would be Jim Webb. He's a senator from Virginia with military credo. He seemed perfect. He's tough and fiesty. I was convicnced he was the man for Barack Obama. Then Webb pulled himself out of contention.
So, I've been unsure ever since. The list of names has been pretty constant lately.
Senator Jack Reed was mentioned briefly. I figure if I hadn't heard of the guy, that can't be good.

Republican Chuck Hagel was mentioned. I don't see that happening, but now that I see the race shaping up as I do, it might not be such a bad move.
Indiana's Evan Bayh has been talked about, but I don't see the benefits. Bayh might help bring Indiana, but he didn't do that convincingly for Hilaray Clinton in the primary. She narrowly edged out Obama. He has some national security, but Bayh is stiffer than Al Gore and twice as boring. He'd be a safe pick, but Obama needs his VP to bring something to the table.
I'd love to see Colin Powell, even if he is linked to the Bush disaster. But, I don't expect Powell to agree to it.
Virginia's Tim Kaine is another leading candidate. A few weeks ago, I thought he was the guy, but I think he's faded. He's a fresh face and brings some of the same essence of change that Obama does, but his weaknesses are the same as Obama. He's lacking in experience, especially in foreign policy. Had this pick been made a few weeks ago, Kaine likely would have been the man. If Obama was comfortably ahead, same thing. But the race has changed in recent weeks. The need for Obama to shore up his national security cred is vital now. That rules Kaine out.
Kansas' Kathleen Sebelius has been mentioned as well. Picking another women besides Hillary would not go over well with Hillary's faithful. So that won't happen.
Al Gore's name has even been tossed about. Yeah, right. He would have won the nomination easily had he run, but he didn't. With that in mind, he's not going to be VP again.
Sam Nunn has been another name suggested. I'm not convinced that it might not be Nunn. He brings the qualities that Obama needs with his foreign policy experience. I think Nunn could be a safer bet than some, but he's also a bit dry and blah.
So, where does that leave us? Even now, I can't help but think that there's somebody else that hasn't been mentioned that Obama will pick, but I can't think of another that fits the bill. Besides, what Obama needs at this point is a name with cred behind it.
I think that brings us to Senator Joe Biden. I didn't like the idea of Biden when I first heard it. Too old and too Washington, I thought. That still rings true. He's not exactly the symbol of the change message that Obama brings. But, the way the campaign has gone lately, McCain has made some headway with his questioning of Obama's experience and leadership. The election is going to be won or lost based on a referendum on Obama. If voters question his readiness and experience, he's doomed. Biden can combat that. Biden brings tremendous foreign policy experience. He's been visable and viable in all global issues. Another thing he'd bring to the ticket is the ability to be an attack dog. Biden does have a bit of foot-in-mouth disease, but his outspokenness and fiery demeanor is just what Obama needs. McCain and the Republicans are going to only get nastier. Obama either doesn't have the stomach to fight that convincingly or wants to appear above that fray. He needs somebody that can fight back for him. Biden can do that.
I think if you imagine who the Republicans might put up and envision a VP debate with Biden and whoever McCain selects, it could be a Biden KO - unless he says something stupid.
Biden won't a safe choice and isn't exactly a bold one either, but I think it is a move that Obama has to make. Kaine fits better in terms of message but Biden fills a gap Obama can't afford to ignore.
Republicans:
McCain needs somebody young, fresh faced and the embodiment of new times and new direction. So, yes, that would be Barrack Obama.
Seriously, that's the image McCain needs to rectify. McCain has the experience and he has the compelling story. Nobody questions his ability to lead or be forceful in world matters. Thus far, on the campain, however, he's also looked old, confused and lost in his message. He's stated that he's clueless about the economy. A fresh face could shore that up, but it also may mean dipping into a pool of lesser known and lesser experienced candidates.
Condi Rice has been mentioned. That'd be a stupid pick. He's trying to appear as though he's distancing himself from the current chaos on Pennsylvania Avenue. Picking an incompentent just because she's a woman won't help.
Tom Ridge has been mentioned. He'd be a good pick, if he can deliver Pennsylvania, but I'm not sure that he can. Ridge is also pro-choice. Recent reactions from the religious right indicate he'd be doomed if he picked a pro-choice VP.
So, that nixes Joe Liebermann too. I'm not sure he'd be a good pick anyway. He was okay for Al Gore, but he just looks like a bitter old Democrat trying to remain relevant. He's not going to make much difference in the election, unless he can deliver Florida and the Jewish vote. I don't think he'd play well with the religious base (fanatics).
Minnesota's Tim Pawlenty is another name mentioned quite a bit. He seems to be a likely candidate. I frankly don't know squat about him, other than he's a young governor from a swing state. He sounds like a safe pick, and that might suffice for McCain.
But, I think Mitt Romney is the obvious choice for McCain. Romney is fairly young, he has experience with the economy. He could help win Michigan and shore up votes in the Western states. He seems to fit McCain's bill in many ways.
However, I think McCain feels the same about Romney as I do. He's an ego-driven, waffling, rich pretty boy. He's the kind of guy you want to beat the crap out of and give him a wedgy. He's proven he'll say anything to satisfy constituents - like tell the NRA what a hunter he is when can't name anything he's hunted or talk about how he and his father "marched" with Martin Luther King (neither of them ever marched with King). A war hero like McCain would contrast sharply with a coward like Romney, whose sons have served the country well - by working in his failed campaign.
Romney makes sense but the fact that McCain can't stand him, makes me think Romney won't pick him.

I was going to say that McCain will pick somebody not on the list of recently mentioned candidates. Whether that's a Mike Bloomberg, Mike Huckabee or Charlie Crist, I don't know. I have a hunch that McCain will go with somebody that's a bit out of the blue - but still a safe bet. But, the more I think about it, it seems as though Pawlenty suits him. He's young, midwestern, a governor and fairly safe. (Even though, I'd bet Biden eats him alive in a debate).

It may even hinge on whom Obama selects. My gut says it will be a name out of the blue, but my head says it will be Pawlenty.

Of course, if Phelps declares his candidacy it could become like the Simpson's episode when both parties frantically court Ralph Wiggum. His campaign ad shows a picture of Ralph sitting on Lincoln's lap at the Lincoln Memorial, with finger planted in nose and the slogan "Pick A Winner."

Air Apparent

Let's get one thing perfectly clear. I want to squash any rumours right now. I'll scuttle any scuttlebutt. Nip it in the bud or bud it in the nip as soon as possible.

The fact that I returned from vacation this past week just in time for Lewiston-Auburn's Hot Air Balloon Festival is a mere coincidence.

No, the Balloon Festival does not need me here. It has all the hot air it needs. I am not on stand-by just in case there's a hot air shortage. I was not summoned back from vacation because of a hot air emergency.

Yes, I am often told I'm "full of it" and hot air could very well be the "it" to which people refer, but that remains unsubstantiated. My hot airness and that of the balloon festival remains completely separate entities, for now and forever. Now, if it was called Squiggy's Hot Air Balloon Festival, that would be different.

Most would know that such a festival wouldn't interest me in the least. I discovered yesterday that the Balloon Festival has filled LA's skies for 16 years. And, yes, it is a coincidence that the festival began a year after I arrived here.

I'm still trying to figure out what LA and hot air balloons have in common that people would hold a festival. And, no, that commonality is not me!

Other than seeing the balloons in the sky, I've hardly paid attention to the Balloon Festival over the years. Sometimes I've been out of town, but most years, I've returned from vacation the week prior, just like this year - and keep your comments to yourself!

I've never been to the main grounds of the festival. Never even seen them. I'm not exactly sure where they are, but I have an idea where its located - and avoid it like the plague.

Festivals have many of the things I don't like - crowds being atop the list. Making it worse, much of that crowd could be tourists - even though, if I were from away, I wouldn't plan my vacation around being in LA for the Balloon Festival.

I don't do the arcade thing any anymore. Carnival rides lost my interest decades ago. So, I've never really found a reason to attend a balloon festival. Now that I realize that I've gone 16 years without giving the festival any notice, I don't expect that to change. It's just like I've never watched an episode of American Idol or Dancing with the (People that may or may not be) stars or don't have an ATM card or cell phone. I likely be sure to maintain those streaks. I'm stubborn like that.

Now, I'm not exactly opposed to festivals. I've always wanted to go to the Newport Folk Festival. There's always some pretty good artists and bands playing. I'm just opposed to driving all the way to Newport - oh, and the crowd thing again.

I do go to the Lobster Festival in Rockland every year. I've been every year for as long as I can remember, and I'm still trying to figure out why. Typically, I go on the Community Day, when I'm not charged $10 to set foot in a parking lot I usually access for free. I spend my 45 minutes to an hour looking things over. I'll buy my annual piece of fried dough - unless I splurge and go for the Thai food - yes, Oriental chow at the Lobster Festival. I told you I like to buck trends.

Then, as I leave, I wonder why I bother every year. I don't like the crowds (I still recall the year I attended in a wheelchair following a knee injury - I shudder at the memory. I don't care about the rides. I'm not going to drop any coin on the cheap carnival crap they sell to suckers. I do like to peruse the artist tents. This year's collection was pretty decent. Best of all, I didn't spend a cent on any art. One thing I've found about art is that it's fun to look at and fun to look for something you really like, but if you find something you must have, it's going to cost you. I've got $600 worth of art on my wall as a result - and those two pieces were to squelch the urge I had to buy a larger piece for $800 on its own. (I actually inquired about purchasing that piece later only to learn it was sold, whew, that was close).

Anyway, Maine is full of festival's, but most of them I ignore. I did attend the slightly obscure Lack of Love Shack Festival one year. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I was a bit of a co-founder of that event. (If it's something stupid, bizarre or mischievous - and fun - there's a likelihood that it was partially my idea.)
The Lack of Love Shack Festival was a simple affair, tucked away at the end of a street in a small town in Maine. The Lack of Love Shack is actually a camper, but that's all I can reveal. You probably don't want any further details. There were no rides, no crowds. There wasn't even fried dough. But, there was food and some brews. We listened to the Red Sox lose, received consultation from Dr. McGillicuddy and gathered round a bonfire. There was even a guy named Ringo there. Ethel was crowned the Queen of the Lack of Love Shack Festival and a good time was had by all.

There's been talk about having a Squiggy Festival, but frankly, isn't every day a Squiggy Festival?

Of course, if a festival were named for me, it would have all the things I'd want. So, there'd be no rides, no crowds, there'd be fried dough, some good tunes, maybe a libation or two - oh, and plenty of hot air.

One Nation Under Squig

Occasionally I’d flip over to the Olympic coverage last Friday night and flip away in disgust.

I’m sure you all were equally disappointed. With each passing country that was showcased in the pageantry of the opening ceremonies in Beijing, there was no sign of SquigNation.

No, apparently SquigNation is not Olympic worthy as far as the Greek Gods of the Olympic Committee are concerned.

But, if teeny weeny countries, ones in which Bob Costas has to explain where they are located geographically, are included, why not SquigNation?

Being a one-person province, it’s not like I’d take up much space. They could have snuck me in between Togo and Antarctica. I could have just strolled along, certainly better dressed than in the ensemble the US team apparently purchased at Preppies R’ Us. I might not have worn anything exotic like some of the other countries, maybe just some orange oilskins and some L.L. Bean boots and one of those Gorton fishermen hats. I’d just try to blend in. Or I might dress like the Dali Lama and see if I could push a few buttons.

But, no, SquigNation was not invited. President Jugears was so appalled that he was holding up the American flag backwards in protest to the injustice of it all. Not sure if it was a case of Ass Backwards or Backwards Ass. Thanks, W, but you’re support is the last thing I need. And, a cry for justice from you rings a bit hollow.

Now, I’m not exactly the world’s biggest fan of the Olympics. I used to love them as a kid. I also liked crayons and playing with plastic army men. I’ve grown out of all of that. Same goes for the Olympics.

It has become an exaggerated American Idol or Dancing with the Stars. All the bandwagon jumpers that haven’t paid attention to swimming, gymnastics, skiing or any other Olympic sport are now leaping aboard. It’s just like the night of the Super Bowl where people come out of the woodwork because it’s another society created festivity to feed a bored culture. It’s hardly about football anymore.

Now the Olympics are the same thing. They're about mindless hype and promotion. They’ve been teasing to the games for so long, I was tired of them before the torch was lit. They’ve taken over the airways to the extent that almost nothing else matters in the world. At least NBC pulled its coverage off the main network so it could air some soap operas. Wouldn’t want to take all the get-a-lifers away from what's truly important.

People are riveted by little Susie Olympian or big Bobbie Olympian, from some smalltown USA. If the networks are lucky they’ll find an athlete with a deformity, a tragedy to overcome or an ill family member to make their story extra gripping. People who couldn't give a hoot about sports will be glued to the TV, hoping to watch the USA kick the ass of every other nation and feed our need to feel superior. Our Dictator in Chief will fan the flame by attending the Olympics and hope the spirit of the games make people forget how hard times are and why he should be put in rings and left in a Chinese prison.

The national pride generated by something like the 1980 Olympic hockey team doesn’t exist anymore. It’s all about who can win the most medals and who can cash in the most from their Olympic success. For some, the Olympics are about the experience and the opportunity to compete on a grand stage, but for most, it’s about money, ratings, celebrity and feeding a pop culture that mindlessly eats this stuff up. I have to admit that I even get caught up and watch the drivel sometimes. I did actually flip back and forth briefly to the opening ceremonies and have checked in on occasion this week. I might even watch some of the events that include some locals that I have done stories on this week. And, I hate myself for doing so.

But, for the most part, the Olympics will go on without SquigNation. It’s too bad. I would make an excellent competitor. I could row circles around the competition in my Sea Goomer. I’d be a one-man wrecking crew in water polo, if my horse could swim - and if I had a horse. I’m definitely in weightlifing shape - able to lift 12 ounces and even some of the heftier sizes on occasion. I’d be a natural in the shooting competition. They don’t call me “Shooter” for nothing. I’d dominate in the sailing competition - because my boat would be armed with a cannon. I’d dazzle fans with a floor exercise to Social Distortion’s “Mommie’s Little Monster”.

That’s probably why SquigNation wasn’t invited. The last thing the Olympics needs is a little character, fun, spontaneity and edginess. It’s now about the pomp and circumstance and spoon feeding the masses of the reality TV generation.

Now that I think of it, I’m glad I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t want to lower myself to such a display. SquigNation has its standards.

Squiggy Returns

The dreary cloudiness equals my mood. I take the steps begrudgingly. My stomach feels trepidation, and my blood pressure rises with each step. My head begins to swirl like an engine trying to start after weeks of rest.
That's what it was like when I returned to the office this morning.
I haven't set foot there since July 19th. I've had nearly three weeks off. No work. No thoughts of work. No stress from work. The SJ was tucked in a closet in the back of my mind only to be entered (or forced open) at a later date. That date has arrived. My three weeks on the coast ended yesterday. My exile is over. I escaped from the world but have now returned. Squig is back. Happy days are here again!!!!
Today, I just returned to the office to check my mail, make sure my desk still had my stuff on it, hinting that I still have a job. I haven't exactly begun working again. I'm just preparing my frame of mind for such an occasion. I kind of have a comp day since my vacation began a day late. So I may actually make some calls and do a story tomorrow, but I can't promise anything. I'm like the Bush administration (how often do I say that). I'm not setting a timetable to actually do work. I'm setting a time horizon.
I'm not exactly excited to be home. It's nice to return to the world after being secluded for so long. I can watch Hardball and Countdown tonight. I can catch up on politics and sports. I've been out of the loop on both recently. I've tried to keep up by reading the newspapers but with no cable, it is hard to keep in step with all the scuttlebutt. Did I hear it right John McCain selected Paris Hilton as his running mate? That certainly might bolster his economic policy but probably won't help him find Czechoslovakia any easier. I heard Manny Ramirez got shipped to La-La Land. Good place for him. I heard Russia invaded Georgia, and President Jugears condemned the act. Now that's the Rednecked pot calling out the Red Menaced kettle.
But, as nice as it is to return to a life of normalcy, it also hard to give up the carefree life of an ocean view and the escape it provides. Over the last few weeks, I've spent more hours in a boat of some kind than I have in my car. That's always good. I didn't worry about work. I hardly checked my email. I paid a couple of bills. All that mattered was the weather, the boating conditions, what book I was reading, what I had in the fridge that needed using up, what cocktail should I make. Life was quiet and simple and responsibility was minimized.
I cherish that time away. I always wondered if I could stand to be down there alone for a long period of time. Now I wonder if I'd ever get tired of it. During the rainy days of last week, I had a few anxious thoughts of returning home, but at the same time, I could stay down there on my own for longer. I like doing the social thing. I like hanging out with friends and having a good time with various people, but I also like my alone time. I like doing my own thing and getting away from everything and everybody.
During my three weeks on the coast, I didn't have to worry about anybody else. I ate and drank what I wanted. I did what I wanted. The only time I was dependant on someone else was when my brother was at his place and would take his boat out. I'd adjust my schedule around his boating plans. Otherwise, I was on Squiggy time. I took time to relax, read, think, enjoy the scenery, pick a few notes on my guitar or mandolin on quiet evenings on my deck.
I wasn't a complete loner for three weeks. I went to a party with a variety of friends (and jello shots). I interacted with neighbors and family. I even went to a bar a couple of times to catch the live coverage of my nephew's Little League baseball team playing in the New England Regional tournament on NESN. Never thought I'd impress people by name-dropping my 11-year old nephew.
But, that's all over with now. I'm back to the real world. My job awaits. My car still needs a new blower motor. My computer still runs as slow as a horse I once bet on - and probably needs to be put down like that said horse. The fall season is fast approaching and life is beginning to speed up again. And, there's a whole 19 days until my next vacation.
Vacation recap
Week One
Things got off to slow start. The TD Banknorth 250 was delayed by rain on Sunday, July 20. After waiting out the rain most of that day, the racing was postponed until Monday. I was asked if I was available, meaning I was working Monday. My vacation was put on hold. Your welcome, boss.
Rain didn't stop there. It delayed things on Monday as well. What could have been a 4 p.m. start of the 250, delayed it until the evening. That put us all up against our deadline of 10:50 p.m. I had sidebar duty, but with the race running late and a 10:30 p.m. finish looking likely, I had to come up with something. I had a potential story with Kevin Harvick leading the race, but if he won, the reporter doing the main story would handle that. I finally decided to do something on his crew chief, a Vermont native with ties to the race. I had two stories in the works at once, but consolidated them and filed the story without quotes with 100 laps remaining or so. I was putting the whammy on Harvick's chances but had to give the desk something to work with in case the race ran late, and I couldn't get quotes. If Harvick lost the race, I was in trouble to scramble for another sider. The race ended about 10:20, and Harvick won. I rushed down to the track, running over fans in the process. I got quotes from the crew chief and raced back to the press box to file by 10:50. Then I grabbed a quote or two from Harvick and submitted a write-through by 10:55. Whew!!!
Wired from a mad-dash to deadline, I got to the coast about 1:30 a.m. The first week was decent weather-wise, better than I expected. The first couple days I got in a couple kayak trips and bike rides. I did my annual look around town during a rainy day and then drove inland on the weekend to visit friends at a party and returned by 11:30 p.m. that evening.
Week Two
My brother arrived to begin his month-long stay down the road. I rode my bike into town for groceries and then had a couple of good boat rides in my brother's boat. We went to Metinic Island, a good 15 miles or so out to sea, not far from Monhegan. The next day, we went to North Haven and visited Goose Rocks Lighthouse, where my great grandfather was the longest serving keeper. It was great boating weather those two days. I got some kayak trips in as well. The weather worsened later in the week. We checked out the Lobster Festival, just because it's there.
Week Three
My nephew arrived for his two-weeks. We celebrated his birthday. I squeezed in a few good kayak trips around the bad weather. We took my brother's boat to Rockland and watched the schooners leave. We fished and waited for the Navy ship to depart. I caught nearly 10 mackerel during that stretch. We also got in trips to Tenant's Harbor and another to Rockland Harbor. We also cruised through the Mussel Ridge Islands and did some fishing off Fisherman's Island. About 20 mackerel got jiggy with Squiggy, and we had a haul of between 40-50 fish, our best in years.

Overall, I got some reading done. Got some thinking and research done for my second novel. I didn't get some of the kayak trips I wanted to and didn't get in the island bike ride I had hoped for, but sometimes you take what the weather gives, and I feel like I made the most of what Mother Nature provided. Now, the weather sounds as iffy this week as it did all of last. The good thing about that is, now, I don't care. I'm not on vacation any longer. Life isn't and no longer has to be perfect. Well, not until my next vacation.