MeInMaine Blog

Category: Uncategorized

  • Rattling The Cage Of A Small Maine Town’s Economy.

    Small Maine Simple Living.
    Fixing, Getting Under The Hood, Under The Engine Of Small Maine Town Economy.

    The forces that help or hurt the sustained economy, smart growth of a small Maine town.

    It may not at first hit you as a titillating topic headline. But it should cause a pitter patter, lub dub increase deep down inside all small Maine town community dwellers. Because it is vital, life and death important to the small Maine town’s survival. For future generations to have the option to settle down there, to live, work and play.

    Change happens in life, in small town Maine living. Small business being strangled with government regulations, reduced profits per unit product or service strain the economic health of the enterprise. Being driven to get bigger, the need for volume sales take their toll in small population centers. When the urban market for the end product or service is many miles away. Involving the extra overhead of shipping, fuel charges, labor expenses to get to the urban market where eight out of ten folks in America live today.

    Not so long ago, the small Maine town’s economy was pretty self contained.

    Now with Internet, Interstates, and evaporating local options for purchasing many goods or services the vise grip on the guglar of the small Maine business owner tightens. Profit to expand, to update equipment, to add to the payroll, or just maintain status quo has become hose kinked. Income reduced to a trickle in many cases.

    So rising costs for providing town services, coupled with reduced revenue means belt tightening. Not raising fees, hiking property taxes recklessly. Which just adds large extra holes to a sinking ship. A band aid to a gunshot wound. Forcing the doors to the small business one by one to close. Jobs in the relocation to head down the road, out of the Maine small town. To places closer to the market. In areas more favorable for doing business.

    Somehow making a profit, running a business and ending up in the black has become wrong to many.

    Like that return is suppose to be in the hands of those feeling somehow entitled to it. As the ticket to a better way of life at the expense of the little red hen, That toiled, sacrificed to create, carve out, earn it. Small business is the economic engine for social programs, community services like road maintenance, police and fire protection, education, etc. Without the business profit there would in a short time be no programs. Everyone can not be in the wagon.

    Someone has to be pulling it, pushing it. Keeping it like the economy healthy, moving. Preserve, protect free enterprise which used to sum up what America, land of opportunity was all about because of the freedom to work hard. Hustle, make the kind of living tied directly to how much labor, effort, long hours you did put in. With a little luck, a lot of creativity, patience. And seeing the market winds to adjust your “sales”.

    Making a healthy environment for small Maine businesses should be a priority to all in a small Maine town. Not just throwing money at the economic dart board and hoping it sticks. Is a move in the right direction either. Not done by maintaining current levels of town services if the community can not afford it without year after year property tax hikes.

    Careful examination of the town’s strengths, weaknesses and developing a game plan. Removing waste, wrinkles, slack. Having a sound current strategy, long term goals that match it. One course of action that all the local community, the small Maine town says buys into, embraces. That sounds prudent. Let’s get behind it. Give it a whirl as Kevin said about TV dinners. While quizzing the bored gum chewing teeny bop store clerk. As his parents, family was away for the holidays. And he had to fend for himself. Protect the home front. We have critical work to do in our small Maine towns. It starts with education.

    The hard reality of small Maine town living is if small business owners ran the town, made the tough choices and critical maneuvers to get back on course, those affected would shun patronizing the shop keeper, service provider.

    Often taking it personally. But like cancer, it can be beat. With tough decisions, facing economic reality. For the greater good, not to feather the cap of a few who like things pretty much the way they roll currently.

    It does depend on who’s ox is getting gored in life.

    The painful pruning, reallocation of funding will be felt, carried by all to guarantee a speedy, healthy recovery of the ailing small Maine town economy. Has to be that way to get the majority of the small Maine town to sign on, help row that boat. Not so gently down the current economically turbulent class five rapids stream.

    Let’s all do our home work for the small Maine towns we are proud to call home. Learn more about the life and death of small town America. Learn how to attract or how to cause small business owners to abandon small towns. The problems are complex, dubbed the “brain drain” but realization that small town rural areas can be the ground zero of sustainable green agricultural based living.

    Embrace small Maine town living. Because that is what Maine is, 108 small communities, a handful of cities. What makes it so special, tightly knit. But also presents the greatest challenges for survival.

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

  • The Maine Home Listing, The Funeral In Same Week A Family Reunion.

    Muscle Cars, Pontiac 1968 GTO
    The GTO Was A 1968, Red In Color That I Remember Bob Fournier Driving. Slid Behind The Wheel.

    A cousin Shirley Benn called and announced it is time to sell the New Limerick Maine home.

    Two extra hours of family history included. The catch up like a reunion during the property listing process. The cousin a decade older. Shared quite a bit of missing family history pieces because I was too young to remember all the events. Just a little grasshopper. And both parents are gone now to do a shout out for answers. Then two days later, on the other side of the DNA tree, it is another family reunion of sorts. Despite being a funeral to cause it. Make the most of whatever the day presents. Live in the season. Enjoy the surroundings. Listen, watch and learn. Be grateful. See the sermon in whatever unfolds works for me living in a small Maine town.

    The funeral is hard to feel sad for very long when you consider the guy who died was always smiling.

    He had a work ethic sorting, stacking, displaying fruit and produce for years at the local Maine grocery. Everyone knew him, liked him and will miss him. And you can hear Bob saying “Hey hey hey. What’s with all the long faces, corners of the mouth turned down to the floor people? Lighten it up.” Then flashing a trademark grin. And we did lighten up. Thanks Bob. As the room lifted high one frosty Miller Lite for Bobby that was ice cold, ready, waiting to toast. To share stories. Then sit down to an amazing spread of food prepared by the Houlton Lodge of Elks for a departed brother.

    Between the grocery customers in a small Maine town, the fact his wife has worked in a school system for a long time, there was a full funeral home. Her entire school where she and the daughter work let out early. So teachers, students could attend the funeral. The neighborhood around their Maine home is tight and it too showed up in force. The deceased was an active softball player, a bowler and past officer at the local Lodge of Elks.

    Add up all those circles in a small Maine town and you have one powerful connection, network. And it pretty much sums up everyone who lives there because of his great passion, involvement in community affairs. Everyone knew Bob Fournier, not just his name, not just casually. How you knew him depended on where you came into the story. His life. He made a lasting impression no matter which on ramp you met up on to work together. To get to know him better. To enjoy the one of a kind 1000 watt smile.

    He was an identical twin, his wife split from one egg too.

    We left the sunset grave side service. Parked back in town. Were walking into the Lodge of Elks, when his wife’s twin, his look a like sister in law commented how tight this small Maine town is. Everyone turns out when you need support. All pitch in for a volunteer event. Weddings, funerals and the in between.

    The individual PEOPLE are the small Maine town stars for sure.

    Not just the places, addresses, buildings. The kids, cousins, aunts, uncles and other in-laws, outlaws were all there. To hear the stories. To add their own. To begin the process of recovery from a big loss. A community gaping hole. Someone that will be missed dearly. Because of that smile. He was a part of so many lives. And small towns in Maine are incredibly involved. The population lives so intertwined, overlapped. Less people for sure, but way way closer, intimate, woven.

    His son shared that his Dad loved to go to the woods camp. But he was no hunter. Harder on maples, birches, ash and beech stands. Wasting ammo hitting trees. No marksman or deer slayer. There for the comradery, the card games, the stories and big feeds around a wood stove. Hunched over a cribbage board. Talking, laughing about the one that got away. An orphan after his twin brother died much too young. Absorbed, swallowed, taken in by a large surrogate family. Where the signal beamed strongly both ways. Like flesh and blood.

    Camp life a ritual for a sacred week.

    As everyone grows a year older. His daughter admitted what everyone already knew. She is a Daddy’s girl, could do no wrong growing up. Was spoiled and her brother agreed. In the follow up good bye summation. She was indeed the apple of Dad’s eye. Both son and daughter strong, clear voiced. Unwavering on their feet, smiling. As they had to quickly come up to speed for the out of the blue unexpected loss. That sucker punches. That none of us is truly prepared for when it happens right on schedule. With casual speed.

    But with the love and support of the family, the neighbors, the employees of both parents, the teachers, neighbors in the community, they knew their role.

    To assure everyone in the room that they are okay because they had the best Dad. And life would go on, and let’s rally around Mom to help get through the next few difficult months. Small Maine towns, where the village raises your kids. And there is nothing stronger for a community connection through the thick and thin. The good, bad and the ugly.

    I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
    207.532.6573

  • Where In Maine You Hail From Revolves Around The Word “Chowder”.

    Starting A New Day In Maine. Start The Morning Show Intro.
    Starting A New Day In Maine. Beginning The Morning Show Intro Up At ’em.

    How you say the word “chowder” tells a lot about where you hail from in Maine Chummy.

    Where your home town is in Vacationland Mister Man. Because Maine is a big honking state with many facets. Nooks and crannies. Not just ocean front, salty sea air weathered harbor communities dotted with lighthouses. Where dwellers have their own special version of the tasty concoction to sample. And colorful Maine kitchen language, communication.

    While collecting sea glass, Maine souvenirs as you tourist troll up and down steep winding streets you ask about the chowder. The soup of the day as you 90 degree swerve with shopping bags. Into a small, dark, quaint watering hole. Place to put on the feed bag, satisfy the growling down below. To take a load off the two feet. Kick back for some sustenance. Some Maine chowder.

    The server announces proudly the the seafood “chow-dahhh” smells some kind of wicked good out in the kitchen.

    And if you want, she can check to see availability of the other variations on a theme. With options to select of fish, clam, corn chowder… er I mean “CHOW-dahh”. And she would love to ladle out a cup or bowl to begin the culinary digestive games. That end up no matter what you order off the menu drooling. Staring, mesmerized with a slab of over sized, skyscraper tall hot Maine blueberry pie. With two or more huge scoops of chilled to perfection ice cream in your favorite flavor. To top off, cap one memorable meal in Maine.

    So say “chowder”. Let me guess where you are from. (“Chow-der”) I got it, have it… Bucksport….no no, wait, you are from Cutler Maine. I know. Neat how easy it is to tell when you’ve lived, traveled around Maine all your life. And when you pay attention. The way people say Bangor is the same tell tale mystery solved on where they grew up. Not where they live now…but in the formative years.

    In another dining venue in Maine the sever might suggest a slightly different version of the word chowder.

    More nasal, missing the strong ‘r’ or with a twang addition of just the “da” or ahh”. You have to try some of the chowder can sound so different. New way inviting when everywhere in Maine you go it is termed a unique way. And the ingredients inside marinating, adding to the medley of flavorful fireworks in the chowder is special to the area. And the local food, grown close to home ingredients that are lovingly sliced, diced. Slid, stirred, swirled, stewed. Escorted, mixed into the secret, seasoned to perfection Maine chowder. Eat up, there’s more if you want.

    Maine, are you hungry yet?

    I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
    207.532.6573

  • Different Flowers From The Same Maine Garden.

    Maine Small Farm Living, You Work Hard.
    Growing Up On A Maine Farm. How To Work Hard Just Part Of Childhood Education Day To Day.

    The argument about where you live being more or less important than the genetic DNA make up, wiring that Mom and Dad contributed to the first seed called you.

    What if you lived in Maine, instead of in an urban sprawl? How would your kids have turned out different or more or less the same?

    If you lived on a Maine farm, and your kids by seven had mastered every piece of machinery. With skills at behind the wheel driving. Confidence, industrious, productive vital members of the Maine farm operation. Not child abuse. Not youth exploitation. Not slave labor with your brothers and sisters joined by a thread of steel links on the same chain gang. No one wearing prison stripes of black and white or orange jumpsuits with a bar code, long number row of identifying digits.

    No one stole their childhood on a Maine farm or in a small business owner’s family.

    It just was not spent pretty much on a couch holding a wand high. With a 300 hundred channels and uphappiness that there’s nothing to watch that’s exciting, entertaining. Plugged into the boop tube. The electric babysitter as they grew larger around the middle, more unhappy and frankly bored stiff. As the childhood raced by parked. Missing out on talents needed for life. Developed by trial and error. By example from watching older siblings, listening to parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. All working the same till the crop dirt, fence the beef or dairy pasture Maine farm operation. Weed, feed, tend the garden and wood box.

    Respect for old, tired Maine farm equipment. For the animals, plants, people, nature you come into daily contact. How to repair it when it does break down to keep going. Tinkering skills. Mechanical prowess when its up to you and only you if all alone. During a shut down out in the back forty. Or when part of the farming operation cogs. That turn, whirl, buzz, hum during the planting, cultivating and hoeing, the harvest of crops or critters. Or is suppose to if you are not asleep at your station. Where sharp awareness, crystal clarity of how the Maine weather, climate that you have zero control over can ruin or boost the Maine farm operation. Acceptance, patience, but keep working on what you can do to make it better. Keep the Maine farm afloat.

    You don’t have to be told, scolded or patted on the back and given lots of praise because everyone in the Maine farm family around you is pitching in just as hard.

    The motivation, praise is self made, comes from deep within. By examples all around you. All Maine family farm members have their specific roles, place in the birth order contribution, skill set, involvement.

    Maine Winters, Look For The Color.
    A Hint Of Warm Red Brown, Blond Mane With Maine Winter Black, White, Gray.

    And until the Maine family farm kid gets a job during high school or college in another discipline other than agriculture, he has no idea that not everyone else was raised with the same engrained work ethic.

    In fact, you hear on more than one occasion the question “why are you working so hard?” And without much thought, you smile. Answer but keep on task with a side response because that is how I am made, put together. Over achiever or just not wanting to waste daylight, get the chores down. To keep up.

    Others notice you, your parents, your kids all pitch in, do more than your share. Have pride and respect for the quality of the work you all do. No matter what it is. The right plan, going all the way and then a little bit more. Because it all falls back on the way you were raised. Your reputation for not being lazy is something you hold high. The hustle says something about the way your parents raised you. They were raised, taught, shown. To be productive, not a drag on the system. To make your presence known. To do so good a job that others around you can not help but notice you stand out. Not your typical striped cat. Just want to work, have a productive day. Every day.

    Does living in Maine’s small town simple surroundings help a kid turn out to be a more productive member of society? Or whatever community he or she lands in? No matter what state or country becomes the transplanted home? I know so. The stakes are higher to stay on a independent Maine farm. It is not a forty hour week. Heck, during planting, harvest, calf births or milking, you have met the forty hour mark by Tuesday night or Wednesday morning.

    You do whatever it takes to get the job at hand done on a Maine farm.

    Your enjoyment comes when it is complete for another season, year. Not in whining along the way to anyone who will listen how much you dislike this job. It is not about enjoyment, entertainment or aversion or pleasure for a task. It is about completion and moving on to other goals, targets. Chores to achieve them. And finding creative ways to short cut for greater efficiency without loss of quality workmanship.

    Being positive, having not much sympathy for those that cling to lazy, an entitlement attitude. Or claiming they are being picked on. Instead, moving forward, stepping aside from emotional tantrums, melt down or drama. Making it a game, sport, passion learned on the Maine farm. And oh so foreign to someone that never had to work growing up. To contribute for the greater good of the family instead just being on the receiving end of spoiled, special, pampered, sheltered.

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

  • Red Sox Nation Is One Big Territory.

    Fenway Park Boston MA
    The Green Monster, Fenway Park In Boston MA. Home Of 2013 World Champion Red Sox Team.

    Red Sox Nation is not a small ring of population of baseball franchise lovers surrounding Bean Town.

    No, it extends way beyond Plymouth Rock, where they had the tea party in the Boston Harbor a few years back. Red Sox Nation fans are true blue, loyal, deeply connected to the team with the “B” branding.

    Most of us don’t hold season tickets to take in all the Fenway Park home baseball games.

    It’s a 6.5 hour haul if we don’t take the corporate jet. (Smile) The “green monster” backdrop we see during the nine innings or more, the double headers is an outdoor mural fall scene. Full of green, gold, reds of the fall foliage woods plastered behind the big screen TV with surround sound. Where game after game between the stints where the fan actually gets to Boston, or during Florida spring vacation pre season match up baseball scrimmages. To take in an actual outdoor game.

    Not just watching double plays, smothered line drives or grounders, stolen home run with go go gadget stretches in full HD color. Not taking in a Red Sox game parked in a recliner with the boys from work, the kids and partner either. No no, radio Red Sox games are pretty special, memorable too.

    I remember during fall potato picking harvest operations having the radio parked on a full potato barrel.

    And like the water jug, the lunch box and extra clothing shed as the spud picking temperature rises after a frosty morning start. All gets moved to the every other row station for new barrels to fill. So trucks can have an alley to hoist them up, whisk them to the dark as the inside of a cow potato storage bins.

    Listening as Rico Petrocelli, Carl Yastrzemski, Tony Conigliaro hit, field, chase, catch the leather stitched in red thread hard ball. All the baseballs teams on the American and National Leagues with the same goal. To get a ring, a spot, the title of World Series Champs.

    The potato harvest work coupled with listening to what is happening with your favorite team that is in the playoffs, then the World Series as a northern Maine farm kid was a big deal.

    Because the imagination processed just the tinny audio from the sportscasters you had followed since spring, through out the summer evenings. Losing sleep during those west coast stints. The broadcasts happening meant summer in Maine during the regular season must be underway. Remember running the radio station board listening for time outs, inning ends when the spot clusters needed to be inserted on my end. Of the rebroadcast from WDEA, our feed microwaved from Ellsworth Maine at the time.

    Met Jim Rice at a Maine State REALTOR’s meeting a few years back. Got the signed baseball for the kids. But now a whole new crop of red Sox wearing jerseyed baseball players make the best that could happen. The Red Sox are this year’s world championship team. Wow. Still sinking in. Basking in that sunshine.

    Have taken the kids to witness a New York Yankee / Boston Red Sox game where our home team won. Wearing green on one occasion. Coming from behind in the eighth inning of play at Fenway Park.

    The Sweet Caroline song fest at the Fenway Park Rd Sox home games.

    The sway of the standing verbal, jubilant crowd. Some that have had too much barley pop. The “tastes better while your team is winning” over priced stadium snacks gulped down as you watch the innings unfold. Hoping rain holds off. All stay in your mind as your walk out of the landmark Fenway Park baseball stadium.

    The Sox team won!

    Came out on top. Beat the Yankees. Or the Cardinals. You pick a team. For the headline. Heading happy happy happy for something good to eat for dinner. Let’s do seafood or Italian what do you say gang? And to recall the double plays. Unbelievable drop snags raced to at warp speed all out. Caught just barely in time. Re-living the calls good or bad in the greatest game in the world innings that are now in the book. All in, done. History. One by one around the table excited. Coming down from a win and all that hollering. Explaining tomorrow why you are a little horse, whispering, raspy.

    Well, the game right up there with hockey…Go Bruins. Skate your brains out, and how about those Patriots? Red Sox Fever is the tip of the iceberg on love for our Bean Town collection of franchise high salaried athletes. To entertain, amuse and sometimes disappoint any one of the four seasons. Neat when all the teams like pistons in a finely tuned engine hit pay dirt. Make New England and beyond proud. The Boston Red Sox team is World Champion! HOO-rahhhhh Red Sox Nation.

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

  • You Are New To This Big State Of Maine, Whoa, Where To Start?

    Maine Monsters, In Time For Halloween.
    Man Made And Natural Wildlife Happen Here. Visit Maine.

    Sampling ME, where to jump in with both feed depends on you. Your tastes, desires, habits in life carry over to the trek to Maine.

    The state dubbed Vacationland is pretty much played outdoors all four seasons. Sure we come in to warm up by a roaring, crackling fire during a day of cross country, down hill skiing. Or when we climb off a snow sledding machine, or from off winter lake ice fishing.

    Or to take in a Maine play production, tour a local Maine library for a good book. But pretty much, you are outside. Like when you were a kid and your Mom and Dad had to holler time to eat. You have to come inside to do your homework, get ready for bed.

    The lack of crime means we don’t hide out inside behind dead bolts and chain locks in Maine.

    We rank 4th lowest in crime and the northern section is half that pretty impressive state average for misdeeds. Living in Maine it is very simple to think everywhere else is just like this state in the upper right hand corner of the country. I get phone calls, emails and office visits daily and that is not the case elsewhere. Stories about out of state gangs, traffic, crime and expensive layers and layers of paperwork for city living are whined about through out the week. Slow down, catch your breath in Maine.

    It is awfully easy to forget the Maine’s natural beauty does not extend everywhere.

    Or that the down to Earth local folks of Maine’s work ethic and volunteerism spirit to pitch in is duplicated elsewhere. Not a given everywhere around the country. There are myths about our weather in Maine to take care of with brand new visitors. Come to see a moose, white tail deer, loons but sorry, lots of wildlife. But no polar bears in Maine.

    Many folks come to Maine to get away from other people. Not stated meanly. Not anti social either. Just needing to spend some quality time with me, myself, I. To sort through the seasons of life that happen and need periodic mental organizing. To scope out the natural beauty but not have to share it except with Maine images. Taken home as reminders, souvenirs of the “hits your deeply” experience. Every time, any season, for whatever reason you are lucky enough to set foot in Maine. Spend time outdoors in Maine.

    So the question of where to start on the maiden Maine voyage gets different answers.

    Starts a friendly debate. Bee line for the unorganized township woods and water. Head to the oceanfront of Maine. Visit Maine lighthouses, harbor towns, sample the sea food hoisted fresh from the deep cold Maine water. Some say climb Baxter’s many peaks, start your collection and build yearly with more and more trails under your belt. Others argue, point out the real paradise is a snow covered Maine mountain top to carve, swish, ski down.

    I say attend a bean supper, church bazaar.

    Maybe a Maine canoe race, fishing derby. Take in a soap box derby race. Strike up a conversation, meet the people working a local community event. Pick up some quality produce, vegetables, fruits and baked goods from a Maine farmers market. That is where the flavor of Maine lies.

    Maine, it’s starts and ends with its neat, creative down to Earth people. Lower population but more memorable characters make each small Maine town shine brightly. That are all anxious to meet you whenever you make a dash. Spend the time to get to know the real Maine. The stuff in the nooks, crannies, attractions that often did not make it into the four color tourism brochures. The neat happenings only the locals of Maine know about and cherish, protect. Don’t just share with any Tom, Dick or Harry unless you’re smiling, friendly.

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