Act II: The Blackwatch

How Did I Get Here? A Five Act Debacle
(Read ACT I here http://aprilinmiddlemaine.blogspot.com/2012/01/blizzards-blackwatch-bad-foundations.html)


After being snowed in the hotel for two days, I exited the now food and booze barren hotel to find a world of white. Walls upon walls of white snow, roads tunneled in between the never-ending snow. This was serious. EJ had been picked-up for his interview, so I decided to grab a coffee. As we were "in town," I went out on foot to look for a cafe. HA! To say I did not have proper footwear is a ginormous understatement. I couldn't walk anywhere. Back into the hotel to locate a Starbuck's to where I could drive (in our awesome rental car - a slight step above traveling the roads in my laughable winter gear).

STUNNER and HUGE RED FLAG - the closest Starbuck's was in Portland - 40 minutes away. Now, this made no sense as Philly featured a Starbuck's within every six block radius. And trust me, it's not that I am the biggest Starbuck's fan*, but it is a staple. I regrouped, and decided I better walk around a bit and see what this town had (or did not have) to offer. I zipped up my three-inch heel, pointy toe black leather boots and hit the bricks.

Guess what? No white steeple in the middle of town; no pretty, indie shops; no funky cafes; no quaint lobster shack restaurant complete with properly distressed signage - this was not the Maine I had pictured. This was Lewiston-Auburn - The Other LA. It was an old mill town with a barely existing downtown. This was not promising. I immediately blazed off some snarky text messages informing my Philadelphia posse that I could not possibly consider living here - this town was beat - economically, socially, and culturally. Plus, there was tons of f--king snow!

EJ had returned from the interview and it had gone well. There were no overnight shifts. Barely any on-call work. A four day work week. No weekend work. No more Snuffleupagus. LOAN REPAY. SHIT!

That night, members from the prospective practice (and their spouses) were taking us out to dinner. They were trying to woo us, so off to the BEST restaurant in town - The Blackwatch. We had done lots of interviews and dinners, so we knew what to expect, but this was startling . . .the best restaurant in town was dark and dank, and dripping in Blackwatch plaid.

I had lived through the early nineties - I had done my time with plaid and flannel. Solo cup in hand, (untucked) flannel on, Nirvana and/or Pearl Jam blaring in the background. Done and done. Now here I was eating off of plaid tablecloths, being served by waitstaff wearing flannel vests, in a Blackwatch plaid wallpapered room. You can't say that they didn't know how to carry out the theme.

This was a steak and potatoes kind-of-place - I think. It was so dark I could barely tell what was happening. I certainly have no problem with a classic steak dinner, but this was such a far cry from the amazing restaurants in Philly that we frequented and loved. Philly had Masaharu Morimoto, Stephen Starr (say what you will, but at the time he was churning out some great restaurants), Marc Vetri, The DiBruno Brothers, etc etc etc. Lewiston-Auburn had The Blackwatch and no Starbuck's. The one question I had for these people was . . .

"how do you LIVE here?"**

Alas, I dared not ask such an inflamatory question, but when we returned to the hotel, we made an agreement. We could not possibly even consider moving here unless they made the proverbial "offer we could not refuse." Exit Maine, and back to the city we once thought would be our forever-home. This was getting dicey.

*My favorite coffee can be found in lovely Scranton, PA at Zummo's. Zummo's started as a penny candy shop across the street from EJ's grade school. It is now a wonderful cafe roasting their own beans in expert fashion. Award-winning and socially responsible - Zummo's does it so well, and you can still buy some penny peach rings. I love the coffee and import it in mass quantities. http://www.electriccityroasting.com

**Side note and spoiler - the shopping and retail in Lewiston-Auburn was even worse than the dining options. That is another (continuing, but improving) saga.

Excuse Me, But I Have Digressed

As aptly pointed out by my husband, my blog has quickly turned into a feminist manifesto.  While he may be overstating it just a bit, I have moved away from where I said I would go (with this blog, that is).  In my defense, the headlines have made slipping into Women's Law Caucus* mode super duper easy and basically instinctual.

I will move on from the manifesto, but not before I share this jaw-dropper straight from my much-beloved City of Brotherly Love (definitely not sisterly love as evidenced by the below article & photo).  A big thanks to my friend, Rich Bobbe for sending this my way.  I truly hope to discuss this with you in-person over a beverage at a not so distant point in the future - not sure if I'll go import or domestic . . .

http://articles.philly.com/2012-02-23/news/31091522_1_domestic-violence-sign-survivor-of-domestic-abuse

*The Women's Law Caucus (a.k.a. "Ladies Law Caucus") was a women's organization I led (with the help of some other fabulous gals) at Temple Law School.  As a huge added bonus, we had our own office complete with phone, couch, and closing door.  Huge in the law school world.   Many were jealous, of course.

The Cherry On Top

I had to share this as a follow up to my last blog post.  Just in case anyone ever wondered what the domestic/dating violence cycle looked like . . .

http://gma.yahoo.com/blogs/abc-blogs/chris-brown-rihanna-reunite-birthday-cake-turn-music-145735266--abc-new


Yep, that's it.  The cherry on top, indeed!

The Week in Review - There Was No Love For The Ladies

The week post vacation is always a tough one.  Back to the cold weather and dingy landscape.  Everyone is tired and edgy. Every moment of my day was consumed with the uninspiring work of unpacking, doing huge amounts of laundry, and sorting through the mess that piled up in one's absence.  There's not much time for anything else - except this week I was completely distracted by the insane headlines, clips, and blips circulating through the newspapers, online, and in my own inbox.  One thing rang through - women were having a really crappy week. 


A couple of things stuck out as just really bad for women.  Here are my top three in the the past week's parade of horribles.


1.  Chris Brown and The Please Beat Me Tweets
So, Chris "Still on Probation for Felony Assault" Brown, preformed at the Grammy's, and even won a Grammy last Sunday.  Bully for him.  Some people were bothered by the fact that Brown was invited to perform at the Grammy's in light of his conviction for the (fairly severe) domestic assault of then girlfriend, Rihanna.  That's all debatable.


Here's what I'm really bothered by - THE TWEETERS.  While Brown was performing, masses of women tweeted about how they would happily accept a beating from Brown, etc.  Of course, I assume some of these tweets to be tongue and cheek, but not all of them.  The theme went like this, "Chris Brown is so hot, I would let him beat me LOL."  Whether joking or not, it just goes to show that so many people still just don't get it - domestic violence, that is.  I presume these are the same women who suggest that women "choose" to be prostitutes and strippers.  Right.  These people make my head hurt.    
http://articles.cnn.com/2012-02-14/living/living_chris-brown-response-tweets_1_tweets-domestic-violence-joke?_s=PM:LIVING


2.  Don't Stand Too Close To Me Or You Might Get Raped
So, thanks to my friend Heather, this doozie found its way to my inbox.  In the below clip, Fox News Pundit, Liz Trotta, who makes Phyllis Schlafly look like a feminist, suggests that women in the military should expect to be raped.  Additionally, the 64% increase in sexual assault in the military is a result of "close contact".  You put men and women together in the military, and BAM - you get rape.  She goes on to mock sexual abuse programs made available to those victims.  Lots of incendiary comments.  Now, granted, Trotta has a demonstrated track record of crazy, but this was a bit much.  In a long line of "she asked for it" logic, this was over the top.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/13/fox-news-liz-trotta-rape_n_1274018.html?ref=fb&src=sp&comm_ref=false


3.  Women's Reproduction Rights - Where The Hell Are The Women?!  

Religious leaders came forward to explain why Obama's contraception policy disregarded their religious freedom.  They called it a hearing about religious freedom, I called it a hearing about reproductive rights.  No matter what you called it - where were the women?!  There are no female religious leaders or any women qualified to speak from a religious perspective??  Oh come on!  At least make it look balanced.  Ridiculous and unfortunately, the reality.  

    

By the time Thursday rolled around, I felt like my brain had been through the ringer (along with the gazillion loads of laundry I had done).  On the positive side, the weather was mild and sunny.  I took the dog for a long walk and grabbed the mail - and there it was . . . the icing on the cake . . . The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.  Insult to injury.

The magazine didn't make it past the trash cans in the driveway.  It never does.  This week's insults to the women of the world, however, will live on.  Valentine's Day week showed no love for the ladies.  Here's to a more promising week. 

   

Anyone have any other horribles to add to the list?

Middle Mainers in Middle Florida: Disney Must Be Magical Because I Didn't Hate It

After the holidays pass and we have enjoyed the novelty of snow, hot cocoa, and fires, things get a bit dicey.  The snow turns dirty and hard, we are stuck inside more often, which leads to heightened brotherly fighting, and my attitude sours very quickly.  Every year, about this time, we escape the frozen tundra of Maine and head due south to Florida.  It is a necessity to survive the remainder of the winter season, which can extend well into April.  And then we have Mud Season, not Spring.*  

Usually we soak up some sun down along the Gulf Coast. Lovely.  

This year presented us with a quandary.  We had the opportunity to split our trip - half on the Gulf Coast, and half in (gasp) . . . Disney.  We have sworn off Disney for years.  To say we are not amusement park people is a huge understatement.  Our skin crawls after two hours within the gates of Story Land (for those not familiar, Story Land is a small, regional amusement park, and it is about 1/8 the size of the Magic Kingdom).  We know our limitations, and we certainly couldn't handle Disney.  Right??  Furthermore, EJ would be in conference during at least part of the Disney trip, and I was infinitely certain that I could not do Disney with my two children ALONE.  


After much back and forth, we decided to throw our kids a HUGE bone, and bite the Disney bullet.  Off we went for 5 magical days in Disney - I kept my bad attitude bottled up, but knew it could be uncorked at any given moment. 


Something magical happened.  It didn't suck.  I expected a parade of horribles, but no such parade occurred.  Granted, I rolled my eyes on several occasions, frequently remarked on the price gouging, and was overwhelmed by the amount of Disney licensed apparel worn by men, women, and children alike.  


There were a couple of things that surprised me most.  Here goes:


1.  I expected Disney to be virtually alcohol-free as it is the most kid-friendly place on earth.  FALSE!  Between Downtown Disney and Epcot, I couldn't count all of the open containers.  Our Disney Resort hotel featured cabana bars within splash range of every pool.  Who knew!  After a couple of tropical mojitos, I really felt the magic.

2.  I expected to pay way too much for crappy food.  The food was exceptionally over-priced, however, it was good.  We had many legitimately good meals in Disney - seriously.  Our hotel housed a five star restaurant, we had great Cuban food in Downtown Disney, and the spread at the German Biergarten in Epcot wasn't too shabby.  I will even admit to whole-heatedly enjoying way too many Mickey-shaped waffles at our character breakfast.  I was only slightly embarrassed by the fact that my children had none, as I carried a plate stacked with Mickey heads.  


3.  I expected everything to be perfect in an erie Pleasantville kind of way.

  
For the most part it was.  Walt Disney certainly was a visionary, but his vision (and those who continue to carry it out) stopped short with the Disney World uniforms.  I firmly believe that every uniform to which I bore witness was a fashion travesty.  From the puffy knickers paired with knee-high white socks (think Bonnie Doon socks worn with school uniform skirts), to the heavily pleated pants worn by just about everyone (as we know, pleats do no justice to any body), to the neon pants with dino print and claw-shaped pockets worn by the workers in Animal Kingdom. 

Yes, indeed.  Disney had its imperfections (you've looking at one) and that made me feel just a bit more at ease with the whole magical world of Disney.  


I was even sad to leave my picture-perfect Disney resort, pools with nearby, well-stocked cabanas, and 5-days of non-stop family fun.  It was (slightly) magical.   


*As a side note, this winter has been very mild, and I can even see patches of (brown) grass outside.  That is very unusual for these parts, and I do not want my above winter negativity to bring a jinx on me and all of Maine.    

    

Valentine's Day Love - Ferguson Brother Style

By 8 a.m., it had already become one of those (hideous) days, and it was Valentine's Day to boot.  In our defense, we are only one day post-Florida vacation.  Re-entry into Middle Maine mid-winter from a warm, sunny destination can be impossible, at best.  Mix into that intense sleep deprivation, and the situation was ripe for disaster.

Child #1 couldn't wake-up, refused to eat breakfast, and was just generally uncooperative.  Child #2 was uber-bratty, and had a major melt-down because I put him in his red-soled sneakers, not blue.  We were late, very late.*

As we blazed out of the driveway on this most love-filled day of all days, Child #1 said to the other, "I hate having you as a brother."  I shook my head in disgust and turned up Kids' Place Live to drown out their voices.  Then child #2 piped up and retorted with this: "Well, I hate having you as my sister!"  I was floored by his nastiness, but also secretly impressed with his wit and ability to deliver a real zinger.  In this battle of tit-for-tat, child #2 had clearly won. 

Who delivered this short, sharp, and effective one liner?  None other than three and a half year old phenom, Owen J. Ferguson.  

He is very physical, crude-talking, free-spirited, hilarious, and inherently lovable.  Those who know him well, affectionately refer to him as "Belushi."  All he's missing is the COLLEGE sweatshirt.

  

And the recipient of the zinger . . . Sammy J. Ferguson.  The sensitive, super-observative, often prodding, older brother (sometimes hipster).

Now don't get me wrong, Sam can trash-talk better than most of his contemporaries, but today he was out-witted in the daily brotherly back and forth.  

A rocky but laughable start to our Valentine's Day.  Appropriate. 

In the end, it all ended in a heap of love in Belushi's bed.  

SISTERS FOREVER!

*DISCLAIMER - I am always late, but these kids are taking late to a new level, and my eldest regularly gets Tardy Slips - super embarrassing, especially for my very punctual husband.  I am almost certain that he was the perennial recipient of the perfect attendance award.   

    

How Did I Get Here? A Five Act Debacle

Act I:  Blizzards

I have many phobias - one of the biggies on the phobia list is and has been fear of flying.

Unfortunately, we were doing lots of flying in late 2003 - looking for a job for my husband, EJ, that would repay the obscene debt he had accrued at Georgetown (thank goodness they had rejected me or else we would have been even deeper in the student debt hole) and provide us with a more livable lifestyle.  At that time, he was working copious overnight shifts and insane hours, and was often referred to as Snuffleupagus, i.e. my imaginary spouse.

On December 6, 2003, the job search was taking us to Maine.  I was quite confident we weren't going - snow was falling in Philly, and several inches had accumulated before we even boarded the plane. Everybody knows that even the glimpse of white shuts Philly down.   PANIC - our plane is called to board. I immediately refused to get on the plane, and was pacing in the jet bridge, insisting that EJ go alone. Furthermore, I had not consumed any alcohol, and surely I could not board this plane in a snow storm sober. His embarrassment level was through the roof,  but only escalated as the pilot came to speak with me.  In almost baby-talk, the pilot explained to me that it was safe to travel, and assured me that as the father of three (he showed me a photo of his three smiling children), he would not fly the plane in unsafe conditions.  He then walked me onto the plane, and had the flight attendant provide me with a beverage of my choice - alcoholic, obviously.

Further panic set in as the plane was de-iced - that process still mentally cripples me.  Then off we went.  We bounced all of the way to Maine, and upon landing, I was given a set of wings from the same flight attendant who liquored me up.  We were the last flight to land at the Portland Jet Port before it was closed due to the now blizzard conditions.

Apparently, we had not listened to the weather report, because we headed to the lovely Old Port area in Portland for a leisurely lunch, and then decided to drive to L.L. Bean's Flagship Store in Freeport - a good 20 minutes from Portland, and another 30 minutes to our final destination.  We were certainly well prepared in our rental car, which made a compact car look big, complete with nearly bare tires.

By the time we got to L.L. Bean snow was coming down hard.  I mean, it looked really pretty - L.L. Bean in the middle of Freeport all covered with white, fluffy snow - lovely.  After shopping for a bit, we came to our senses and figured we better get the f--k to our hotel.  As we traveled the highway, we watched well-equipped SUV's careen off the roads - what were we thinking screwing around in L.L. Bean like that?!  We were from Philly - we didn't know what to do in real snow storms!  No car shovel, no windshield scraper/brush, no clue where we were going - nothing.

We managed to get to the hotel, and were snowed in for 2 days.  25 inches of snow fell.  The hotel ran out of food, alcohol, and other necessities.  I felt like I was trapped somewhere between The Shining . . .

and Alive . . .

It was all bad.

Then, Monday morning rolled in and it was business as usual. Mainers dig out and they just move on. Blizzard done, off to the interview, and then onto The Blackwatch.  Spoiler - the Blackwatch had nothing to do with Scottish dry goods.