later for you
Posted In: comic
Them’s The Rules!
Posted In: Blog
If you check out your Maine history books, you’ll likely read about the time when European settlers and local Native Americans didn’t get along with each other. To the Maliseet, Passamaquoddy, Abenaki, Penobscot and Micmac tribes, those pushy Eurotrash homesteaders were the original “summah complaint”*. Oh, we’re all one big happy family now, but back then, their tussle made that famous feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys seem like a sorority pillow fight.
Did you know there’s a law, still active on the books here in Maine, that requires shotguns be taken to church in the event of a Native American attack? Jeepers, the last Native American attack I heard about happened when Chester Peavey got himself thrown off Indian island for cheating at Penobscot High Stakes Bingo. Still, no one wants to break the law, or pay a hefty fine, so the good folks of the pine tree state still haul their artillery to church. Everybody “packs heat”– the choir, the deacons, and especially the ushers. That’s why you see all those bumper stickers and t-shirts around town that read: “Jesus is number one with a bullet” and “I’m a pistol packin’ Pentecostal pacifist from Penobscot.”
(* Tourists. Especially the annoying kind.)
Here’s a couple more laws that might interest you:
In the state of Maine, you may not step out of a plane in flight. If you think about it, that seems like a pretty good law. Not sure why the rest of the country hasn’t caught on to that one.
In Augusta, Maine’s state capital, it’s against the law to stroll down the street while playing a violin. Not really sure why violins were singled out though. Maybe folks were getting their eyes poked by errant bows. Still, if that’s really the case, why not outlaw wandering trombone players too!
In the bustling harbor town of Portland, Maine, shoelaces must be tied while walking down the street. Not sure if that law was created by the fashion police or if too many folks were tripping over their laces and busting their heads open on the concrete.
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Posted In: Blog
Maine’s Moose Mountain National Park is a scenic wonderland offering rugged, wave-eroded coastline, magnificent maritime landscapes, glorious flora, unique fauna and, of course, serenity in abundance. However, what you don’t see in these so-called idyllic surroundings is the emotional trauma being suffered daily by park inhabitants.
Hello, Ranger Todd here. As a Park Ranger and a wildlife psychiatrist (unaccredited South Sea island school) I’ve devoted my life to veterinary behavioral science. I recently conducted a squirrel support group and became aware of certain day-to-day pressures suffered by average, bushy-tailed, tree-dwelling rodents.
What I learned from that session may astound you. You see, it’s really no wonder the average squirrel appears nervous, hyper-active…stressed, even. While squirrels may not fret over mortgages, past due bills, or the ever-changing price of oil, THEY DO HAVE PROBLEMS.
Did you know that a squirrel’s teeth are constantly growing? That’s right. And to keep their ever-growing teeth from getting out-of-control, the squirrel must chew continuously. Every moment of every day, squirrels need to be gnash-gnash-gnashing away. Diligent chewing helps a squirrel file down its teeth to a reasonable size. And let me tell you, friends, according to reliable sources, there are plenty of times when exasperated squirrels just want to rest their jaws, relax, kick back, and enjoy some much needed “down” time. Unfortunately, no matter how tedious the task, squirrels ABSOLUTELY MUST, at all times, bite, crunch, munch and/or gnaw! For a squirrel, refusing to chew could be (cue dramatic music) FATAL.
So, that’s why I started this support group, so that squirrels seeking comfort and consolation will be able to develop the coping skills needed to accept the laws of nature and ultimately lead a normal, stress free life.
If you know of a friend, family member or fellow nut-gatherer who you think might benefit from this program, don’t hesitate to direct them to our meetings held at the old fire tower near Burble Pond every Tuesdays at two p.m.
This is Ranger Todd, therapist to woodland creatures everywhere, saying “so long” and remember…Be kind to your web-footed friends, for a duck may be somebody’s co-dependent.
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LUMBERJILLS
Posted In: Blog
Seeing how I live in Bangor, the former “lumber capital of the world,” I thought it only right that I pay cartoon tribute to those hearty folk of yesteryear who harvested logs from the northern timberlands and drove them down Maine’s swift moving waterways to the sawmills. But then I realized that only a few of you would be interested in seeing a drawing that features some ugly, hulking, hairy-knuckled, wood choppin’ lumberjack. So… I decided to honor Bangor’s ancestors by drawing a cute lumberjill! Now, I’m not really sure if there were lumberjills during the town’s “lumber boom,” but if there had been, I’m sure they were rough and tumble gals who were as good at logging as ANY man. CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE:
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