At the regional airport this morning, I noticed the crumbling concrete on the corner of a large planter. Looking up, I noticed that the planter was nearly empty. The only plants in it were small weeds whose seeds had blown in on the wind. It
Half a century from now, airport security will be formally recognized as the religious ritual that it is. People will go to security chapels in their own neighborhoods to remove their shoes, Empty their bags, and walk through magical gates, relinquishing all large tonsils of
Maine has its faults, but this is one of the reasons I love living here: This is how you get coffee at the local airport: The tin-can economy is a great antidote to my gloomy cynicism.