Category: Uncategorized

One Small Thing Maine Is Big On, Has Plenty Of To Share.

You see a city image of a crowded overflowing sidewalk.

A sea of people with expressionless faces. Some in a major marathon rush hour hurry. Late for some very important mad hatter like date. Others spilling, sprawled like wall to wall fluid glue, thick mud, ice cubes. Wearing casper like tans. Sporting flat line or upside down smiles.
Crowds, No Space, Not Much Expression, Detachment Happens When No Elbow Room Surrounds A Person.

A liquid phalanx of human urban crack filler. Tangled, layered, knotted. Kitty corner varicose wedged between the movers and shakers.

The hustle and bustle from the crowd, mob, cluster sirens visual stress and plenty of worry.

A few poker faced and seemingly casual in a detached sort of way. Maybe the stop at the corner pub after work gets the credit for a hint of bevity.

Plenty of don’t get involved fear expressions the rule though.

A common goal shared by many. When full scale panic would take over if trucks stopped shipping goods into a city for just a couple days. In their just in time inventory practice to local merchants, peddlers of foodstuffs.

To just slip through the 360 degree obstacle course everywhere they turn in the watch where you step, no way to move in the herding.

Until a let down, long sigh. When the click of a dead bolt is heard, felt. The grab the dangling, swinging security chain finishes the slide ride to the side. Finally. Whew. Geez Louise. Home, sweet costly leased home. The one seventeen stories or more jacked up, hoisted from the high priced, in short supply terra firma down below.

But back to the sidewalks you can not see for the people stuck, melted together.

Add in the taxis, mass transit bus stands and underground or elevated train stairway interruptions. Non stop, round the clock never sleep loud honking horns. Black diesel fume belching buses. To make it a challenge, slow the process of getting from A to B. Upping the stress levels as you can collectively hear all the worn time devices ticking loudly. Like the Pink Floyd song intro.

As someone in the control room slides the audio, cranks the dials on the VU meters. To make them dance, linger, loiter in the red region. To add depth to the what does it feel like. In that crowded, elbow to elbow, shoulder to shoulder stark black and white image. Look at all those people. Where you don’t know the face of even one soul in the crowd.

Now picture you are in Maine.

I know. Can you stand the sound of all that Maine quiet?

Gone are the sounds of city clanging. Of garbage, municipal trucks, fire engines, ambulances meat wagons. Where every year is getting shorter.
More Outdoors, Less People, That’s Part Of Maine’s Magic.

And self medication in all the wrong varieties to manage. The try to cope with city stress addictions, tricks of self deception all melt away.

Like that permanent truck tire around the waist you wear. Oddly enough worn in the urban setting. To fend of others in some bizarre bumper car rubber self protection device strip sort of way.

In Maine on a small town sidewalk there is plenty of concrete showing.

Take your time in the casual no pushing, no shoving stroll. Maine you get extra helpings of space. No matter where you are. Or what you buy for real estate. Measured in acreage, hundreds of yards not fractions of inches.

People wave, smile, hold doors open for you in Maine. Use taught manners. Let you go in traffic.
Destination Maine. It’s Living Outdoors, Small Town Friendly, Families.
In Maine towns with maybe just a handful if any red, green, yellow hanging or corner positioned vertical lights.

Less herding help with the population needed in a small Maine town. Kids walk home from the down town movies at night without fear of abduction in the 4th lowest crime state.

You can cross the uncrowded streets anywhere too. Not just at certain times on specified designated cross walk reflectorized painted grid lines.

Where even when it’s your turn, you take your own life in your hands every single time you step down off the granite city curb.

Is it crowded where you live now? You’re not in Maine are you?

Do you feel a connection to others around you? Sense like if you were not around long where you live others would know it, miss you? Let go. Run away. Get to Maine. Feel the release of tension, anxiety, all that bottled up worry and frustration. Lose the worry about hitting someone by accident, mistake. Or out of self defense and reaching for a fully charged taxer, can of mace.

There is another setting. All natural, unfiltered, unplugged and with freedom on every level written all over it. Enjoy, bask, bathe in the clean air, crystal clear water and all this space in the place called Maine.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

July 13, 2014
When There Are Hundreds To Pick From, Music Channels.

I don’t know about you but music, all types need to be in my diet, the background.

No matter what is going on.
Summer Moonlight, Outdoor Fires On A Maine Lake. Peaceful, Romantic, Relaxing.
Maybe it is to avoid “dead air” training from early years in a Maine radio career. Where Mighty John Marshall threatened to fine on air record spinners a quarter for every second of wasted, empty “dead air”. To keep everything hot, dancing VU meters in the red tight. Flowing, polished, professional. Without cracks, gaps or joints in the programming.

In Maine the outdoor sounds can be the muzak that motivates, stimulates.

Crickets chirping, birds peeping, loon crooning, crying. Or whispering pine needle vibrations humming when the wind picks up. To go with the sound of rain water on a tin roof, sleet against a side window on the northeast. Or waves lapping the rocks, against a dock along a Maine lake or oceanfront craggy shoreline.

But back to the digital music channels from 30,000 miles into space. The gazillion available to tap into, dial to enjoy.

To set the tone. Which ones depending on your mood, what you need to enhance the day or evening musically. The last three days on the ride to and fro in the jeep, the 40’s channel is where I have it locked in. Not a regular haunt like Alt Nation, Classic Vinyl, The Loft, The Pulse, BPM, Backspin, etc.

The itch to change the channel. Not leave it where you got it. Because the longer you sample any type of music, repetition starts to creep in. And it’s time to pack up and move sideways. Up or down the dial. To find a new musical home to explore, sample, enjoy. This big band, musical production channel from the 1940’s features your classic dance bands. That include Artie Shaw, Duke Ellington, Woodie Herman, Glenn Miller, Jimmie Lunceford.

The lyrics when Bing Crosby, Jane Wyman, Bob Hope, Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Dinah Shore, Helen Humes, Jo Stafford, Helen Forrest, Peggy Lee or whoever paired up as boyfriend/girlfriend.

Or husband and wife duos with common themes. Each partner with defined, distinct and obvious roles in the partnership. Love, managing the money, raising kids, all reflecting the times. Often World War Two war subjects.

Being blue because of being apart. Or heartache recovery while floundering, on the rebound. Or feet not touching the ground in love, bitten and smitten. Not able to think straight but both the love birds in la la land. And put to words, dance steps to prove it.

Trying to share what each is feeling deep down inside.

Because of what the other in their system is doing to the other in the new blossoming love. Full of hope, promise, plenty of potential. Love and marriage. Bring in the baby carriage. We’re off to the races.

Stretching the dollar, starting a business, tilling a patch of dirt, just having carefree let your hair hang down fun dancing. Common decency, manners, values, starting a family. All of it splashed generously into the production scores. Striving to have it all. The American Dream. The cape cod, big car, filled with lots of kids. All of it surrounded by the picket fence.
Moose In Maine Further Up In Aroostook County Safe From Drunk Hunters. Who Start Shooting Cows, Horses In Lewiston, Further South.

Taking the train into the city for a broadway show.

Up to the mountains in New England to ski. All weaved into the G and F clef sheet brass, woodwind, percussion, ivory key musical arrangements.

Nothing like rap, no degrading woman, crude or for shock value lyrics or obscene way beyond just suggestive sexual gyrations on camera on the Hollywoood or club sound stage.

Everything black and white simple, good, respectful. G Rated. The nice guys wearing white hats obvious. Good wins out over evil everytime. Happy endings to the musical movies. The entire premise of each filled with all American themes. Causing itchy pants, squirming. Not being able to sit and waste good dance music.

Everyone dressed up, to the nines, the latest style, young. Out at clubs, with lots of clouds of first and second hand smoking around the corner booth tables. A few high balls, gin and tonics, manhattans or old fashions scattered, filled with ice. IV’ed into the musical melodies. Lubricating the entertainment dance and music two step process.

Cutting the rug. Everyone smiling, happy, out for the evening. To celebrate something big. Or just the end of being away, a hard week of toiling.

To dance, sing along. Anything but stalled, parked, sitting still.

Everything simpler, decent, wholesome.

I think of my parents listening to many of the familiar songs. Music that filled the Maine farm home. Usually the needle on the vinyl groove dropped on Sundays. Just before dinner, sandwiched right after the church time slot. When later that afternoon it was taking turns. Shut the music off, put the 33.3 RPM black discs away.

To land at one of my Mom’s eleven kid family of brothers or sisters. With cousins socializing in new backyards. While the parents sat in lawn chairs, recalled history. Caught up on the latest happenings in the local area from the weekly circle of chair meet up in a small Maine town.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

July 11, 2014
Independent Thinkers, Mainers Run Their Own Thought Process.

In an age of highly specialized across so many industries today, the downside is falling short in many other areas of life.

Because all the money in the brain trust is placed on the marble circling the roulette wheel. To land on one specific number, colored slot.
Maine Porches, Free Therapy, Shelling Fresh Peas, Naps Happen Here.

And when you are very good at a skill, craft and have a talent in one specific sought after area, you are sought out.

The money you make for a reward of being pretty special in that one narrow area. Means throwing some of it around. Hiring out lots of other areas of your life decision making.

In my industry of real estate, if the price tags hanging off the property listings are high enough. Blessed with lots of zero places, it opens the door.

A bunch of them. To lots of side contractors in the process of selling a home.

Home stagers to tell you no no, the colors you picked over the years are all wrong. This place could fetch way way more. If we pull all your furniture out. Throw it into storage or give it away to Catholic Charities, the Red Cross. For some family a victim of a total household loss fire.

Outside, Moving, Catching A Ride To Maine Adventure.

And (beep beep) back in, slowly, steady, that’s it. Easy, hold it. Good.

A truckload of the latest and greatest colors, styles. The arrangement of the accessories around the brand new smelling furniture in the shrink wrap.

Consulting Angie’s List on who you gonna call. Paying some service to monitor your credit. To see with speed of thought quickness. If there is a negative blip in your financial scores, debt ratios, the works under the financial hood.

When you buy new appliances, anything electronic how about insurance to cover the what if. When warranties used to extend a longer time. Companies stood behind the product without the consumer footing the bill on breakdowns right off the bat. Shortly after lugging home all that shiny, gotta have the newest gadgets. That marketing tells you you need. For a happier, fuller life. Cause you deserve it, have earn the right.

In small town Maine we are brought up cross trained.

Skills sets for survival. You change out the GFI outlet in the bathroom yourself. Cut down, haul to a yard. Split the wood behind your house to heat it this winter. This summer that garage roof gets re-shingled. After stripping the other two layers down to the boards. Carefully making the new asphalt or metal water tight. High and dry by yourself.

Of like the barn raising ritual of I’ll help you with those hand hewn beams, post and pegs this weekend. You and your family come on down. To my Maine farm yard next Saturday and Sunday. To return the favor. Barter exchanged, not dead Presidents swapped for the effort for payment.

If we don’t know in a small Maine town who to call for a repair beyond our expertise. That no one in our circles of family and friends can lend a hand with, well now. The eenie meenie miney moe is easy. Tune in to the Grapevine channel. Not an XM selection choice.
Local Fresh Maine Fish, Not Shipped In From Who Knows Where.

It’s the common answer to questions asked while sitting in a small Maine town barber’s chair.

Hearing the same response on who to call. At the vet’s getting the booster shots for Fluffy or Spot. Waiting in the staging area for the medicine application. Or getting tires rotated for free at the place you bought them. Asking others in the same routine. Sampling the coffee made yesterday. While comparing notes, experiences. Sometimes horror stories.

Maybe in line at the local IGA or Shop and Save, when asking around. For the survey says (ding ding) this is the person, the selection of folks you ought to call. Based on the experience of your friends and neighbors you know personally, trust completely in a small Maine town.

Self sufficient, more reliant on me, myself and I happens in Maine.

Because we are not a state flush with cash. Don’t hire it done. Big time DIY. You are in simple, frugal living Maine. Where there are not layers, smothering expensive blankets of delays, added costs in our day to day. We do our own thought process. Can hear ourselves think with less people, more direct hands on in the process of living day to day. We don’t hire it out, not so dependent on others.

Maine, where our entertainment is always outdoors too. No or very very low cost. 52 weeks a year when blessed to live in Vacationland full time. With the fun in the sun. Under the blue sky, the same one that shifts to black velvet. And the curtain opens. For the brilliant nightly light show. From a zillion stars you can actually see twinkling, performing overhead. Not lost in a sea of smog, light pollution like a city. Maine, unplug, refresh, recharge. Whew. Relax in the Pine Tree State.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

July 8, 2014
Tecumseh Penned Wise Advice That Is Not Dated, From The Heart.

Tecumseh reminded “a single twigs breaks, but the bundle of twigs is strong.”

In small Maine towns, keeping a clear concise direction, path visible to all is critical to its survival. There is no room for dissension, back biting, or working contrary to the course needed to keep the small Maine town alive. It will take all on board for success.
The Nature Of Things. The Balance, Harmony, Reality.

Tecumseh grew up in Ohio, back in the time of the American Revolutionary War, the Northwest Indian War.

He became a local folk hero around Native American, American, Canadian historical records.

The philosopher had lots to say about living life fully. Poems written about death, dying, bravery and attitude. Essays that still apply, inspire today.

Tecumseh Quotes, Sayings, Wisdom Highlights

“Live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about his religion.

Respect others in their views and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.

Seek to make your life long and of service to your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light,
for your life, for your strength.

Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.
Preparing Before The Storm. Prior To Being In The Eye Of It.

If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.

Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.

When your time comes to die,
be not like those whose hearts are
filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep
and pray for a little more time
to live their lives over again in a different way.

Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.

When the legends die, the dreams end; there is no more greatness.

When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
Maine Is More Outdoor Beauty, Less People Problems.

“When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.”

“A single twig breaks, but the bundle of twigs is strong.”
“Show respect to all people, but grovel to none.”

“Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.”

“Let us form one body, one heart, and defend to the last warrior our country, our homes, our liberty, and the graves of our fathers.”

“Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, or even a stranger, if in a lonely place.”

I like the philosophy of Tecumseh. Hope you did too.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

July 6, 2014
Maine, Fourth Of July, Summer Weather.

Maine is four seasons and hard to put a finger on the favorite.

Because each shine in their own way. Partial to the four. But all involve being outdoors to enjoy them most. Not cooped up, suffering from house arrest.
Maine Is Outdoors, Wild Lupines. Summer Living.

Cabin fever or being jammed in like four walls are closing in. That is not Maine.

The fourth of July means working on community events in a small Maine town. Friends, family, classmates from out of town coming home for the patriotic holiday.

Picnics, hiking, biking, swimming. Golf course scrambles. Maine state fairs and rides. Or Maine horse shows and cattle, cooking, quilting, tractor exhibits.

Jeeps with missing tops, some ladies dressed not far from the same condition.

In Maine We Dress Warm First, Stylish Second.
As temperatures rise, clothing is shed. Water wear takes over the wardrobe. Lakes are the haven to take a dip, cool off. Swim like a fish.

Or to get that fresh cut Maine farm hay baled, in the barn. Before thunder bumpers, dark clouds open up and let loose. With the raining cats and dogs.

Bolts of lightning when it sounds like someone upstairs if bowling. Getting lots of strikes with the heavy pins.

Maine summer living, is home made food, band music. Farmer’s market visits. The goodies made with recipes from long ago and passed down. Strawberry rhubarb pie, hand churned ice cream.
Maine Is Music All Around You. The Natural Kind, The Songs The Local Volunteer Musicians Create To Entertain The Whole Family Outdoors.

Sizzling cook outs with background, summer music, laughter.

Refreshments, water melon, potato and macaroni salads.Gathered around the grill, on the open deck or patio. A circle of chairs around the open fireplace.

As the sun sets, moon rises, crickets tune up. Frogs supply the base line. Maine loons belt out the solos.

Get to Maine, cross that big green bridge to the south. Watch a Maine 4th of July parade, see the fireworks. Meet the friendly people who live here. Come to Vacationland. The way life should be. Still is.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573

July 3, 2014
The Maine Late Night Card Game Has A Pick Up On The Table.

Playing cards for money, something more in a small Maine town.

Life is a gamble. And some like the thrill of what four kinds of cards, arranged the right way can cause for a winning hand. Or bluffing your way into making others think you are holding dynamite. It is a skill, art form for many. To put on your poker face. Become ice cold. Blank. Hard to read. A card shark.
Four Seasons, Sometimes One Ends Quickly In Maine.

One late night card game in Houlton Maine had a pick up truck on the table.

Up for grabs as the pot grew and the players reached deeper. Got creative. Caught up in the heat of the what to hang onto, discard.

What to wager and when to keep going or just fold. Push away from the felt top table. As a bartender kept the crew lubricated so to speak. Running drinks from behind the bar, the late night watering hole.

Max Escovitz a local car dealership owner in the day that many still talk about. That happened decades ago but still recalled by the few in attendance. Drinking was involved. The hour was marching into the wee early morning region. And the final hand was one that Max had had enough. Folded and wanted to know what was in the hand of Justin Hogan. Who was not a partaker of the fire water.

Justin said you folded, doesn’t matter. You quit. Stopped the game. Had enough.

But Max offered a thousand dollars to know. He had to end the suspense. That would haunt him for the rest of his life. The need to know strong.
Watering Holes, This Kind Horse Used In Market Square.

A pair of twos held by Hogan was what beat a pair of kings in the hand of the car dealer. Max told Justin to come down to the dealership later today. Select your pick up. Figure out which color, model and he would do up the paperwork. Pass the title.

Wheeling and dealing.

Playing the odds. Max would order a dozen limos from the car maker, the factory. Knowing they only made these luxury rides a certain time of the year. Then stopped production until next year. He would store them up over Farrar Brown, a auto parts place in downtown Houlton Maine. On the corner of Pleasant and Mechanic Street where Aroostook Auto Tech is now.
Maine Veggies, Home Made Products. Meet Your Neighbors. Eat Healthy.

Then auto dealers from around the state, or further away would need a limo out of season from the manufacturer.

Max would get a call. Sure he had a limo. They could have it today. For a price. A tidy profit. Smart man that sold New Moon mobile homes, took potatoes for payment from area farmers. Helped financed your fertilizer bill. Anything to make a dollar, turn a profit. A true business person, mover and shaker. With fire in his belly. Winding himself up to go go go each morning.

But one night, lost a pick up truck in the shuffle, deal, look at your hand. And figure out how to play those red and black cards. To make others think you were holding something you were not. Confessions of a bartender now long retired that I ran into yesterday. And cub reporter like took a few notes after the reminiscing. To spin a tale, create another blog post for you faithful readers.

The drink maker, smoke provider who says to this day after being behind the bar for many evenings, he can still remember what everyone drank, puffed. From memory. When he sees them on the street. Or if passed away asked. Because it was his job to know how this person liked their gin. Something he called pine cone water. That dentist Dr Ira Tarbell could differentiate, not be fooled in any taste test. He knew, enjoyed his gin. All the varieties.

The bartender, giver of advice or just an available ear to listen. Keep pouring them. Taking orders unless that’s enough. Shut off the hose. Just knew what that person preferred to light up. In the smoke ’em if you got ’em. He remembered. Had to, his job. Back when second hand smoke was shared freely. Everyone did light up. We all did not know any better.

I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
207.532.6573
info@mooersrealty.com

June 28, 2014