Here at Ask Erik we've spent a lot of time reading novels and comic books, playing video games, and watching television and movies in order to amass a deep vault of pop culture knowledge. While constantly trying to still gather new information, it seems only prudent to share some of what we learned to help solve some of the world's greatest questions.
Are the new Amazon drones going to secretly gather data? Is it really true that good behavior by people tends to indicate that there's going to soon be worse behavior by the same people? That whole business about rubber cement growing up...was that true?
Once a week Erik tackles a question asked to him and tries to answer it in a method that handles the topic with the respect and attention it deserves. Failing that, he'll at least try to make it funny so you don't regret the time spent reading it.
To Erik: What do you really think of Maine?
This is going to be a difficult question, because I have to find that perfect balance of being honest while managing to not offend people I know who might misinterpret what I say.
Much like a stereotypical high school student in a movie who just lazes about and needs some pending disaster slash invasion slash romantic hijinks to ensue to get their act together, I feel the phrase that best describes Maine is "it has so much potential."
There's so much that this state can offer to the world that I find it disappointing when a great opportunity to increase its influence, and is passed on for reasons that, to me, seem short-sighted.
I'll freely admit, I have a different viewpoint from a lot of Maine "natives" (more on this term later) in that I've grown up around a lot of major metropolitan centers, places whose suburbs make Portland and Augusta seem like quaint country villages, cities so large that they seem to absorb neighboring cities like some giant amorphous blob made up of skyscrapers and mini-malls.
I understand that Maine relies heavily on tourist dollars, and the reason most people visit Maine is for the scenery, the seafood, the quaint lifestyle of Angela Fletcher on Murder, She Wrote (with a smaller chance of homicides), and to see if anything Steven King wrote was based on fact. But being one of the larger New England states, there seems to be enough land that they could devote some of it to other projects.
For instance, I heard on the radio tonight that there's over one million acres of potential land to set up wind farms. However, it seems that any time someone proposes "hey, why don't we try to reduce our dependency on oil so that fuel prices will go down," it's greeted with cries of outrage. Protests of "it'll disrupt animal habitats" are valid concerns and the Audubon Society is mapping out lands where there's little animal life to be affected. "They'll make the landscape ugly" is responded to with the fact that of the one million acres they found, just over one hundred thousand are in areas that have heavy tourist business. That still leaves a lot of area.
But talking to people in the past when wind farms were proposed, something I heard a lot on the radio and in regular conversation seemed to be a great fear of change. Maine has been so rooted in tradition and history that presenting something new (especially something that comes from out of state) just seems to sometimes cause a knee-jerk reaction of "not in my backyard, and my backyard goes for ten miles, buster!"
Here's here I want to discuss the term "native." There's a phrase that I've been told multiple times since moving here when I asked about the origin of something, or why something was a certain way, or why something was voted down, and that's that "I'm from "away," so I wouldn't get it."
There's a wide gap between people whose families go back generations in the state and people who either moved here themselves or had parents that moved here. I can go down the street and find people who grew up in this town, their kids live next door and grew up in this town, and their kids grew up in the same town and live the next house down!
When I lived in Virginia, I don't think I ever saw ONE generation of family living next door to each other, much less multiple.
And I get this happens in farming communities, but from my knowledge this family doesn't farm except maybe on Facebook games.
But back to my point, there's a subconscious ostracism that seems to occur when you're "from away." You'll hear native people talk and at some point the conversation tends to drift around to "where are you from." They want to dig into the past, and will poke without always directly asking how many generations back you go in that area. If you say "oh, I live X, but I just moved there a few years ago from <insert other state here>" there's a pregnant pause as the conversation shudders to a halt and then tries to get going again.
You can present ideas and plans on how to make things better based off of what worked in other states, and officials will disregard them because the ideas came from "away" and wouldn't work in Maine for that reason.
I don't think it's a conscious dislike of non-natives, I think it's just something that happens in smaller communities around the country, and Maine has a lot of that "small community" mindset.
In reading what I wrote so far, my opinion could come across as negative, but there is so much about this state I love. I love how connected a community can be, and when something happens to one person, the whole town feels it and steps forward to help. I love how the state can eschew a lot of the "mainstream" business for things the state can produce itself and that same sense of community supports small business.
I love how safe the cities feel when you walk them, and while I think it's ridiculous that people leave their cars running when they go into stores (any decent band of car thieves would have a field day here), the security people have that it will still be there when they come out is refreshing after living near D.C.
I just feel that it's possible to both embrace new ideas and modern methods and thinking while still preserving what makes Maine special and unique. I think Maine could learn to embrace new cultures while still keeping communities small and quaint. It can hold on to the past without being left behind by a rapidly advancing world.
My opinion goes deeper as there's much more to a state than that, but the article's already rather long, and I have a feeling I'm going to get questioned about this one enough as it is.
...it could still do a lot to help the Native American tribes here, but that's a different topic for another day.
So anyway, it's time for another Erik Overthinks Christmas Carols!
You all know the song Little Drummer Boy, right? A rum pum pum pum, and all that.
First off, who's the genius who let a kid with a drum into the manger? I may not know everything about babies, but I'm pretty sure nobody ever went "hey, you know what this hospital nursery for newborns needs? Sudden, loud banging sounds done repeatedly and without warning! And while we're at it, why don't we just leave the thermostat on "random" and leave crabs in the bassinets."
Secondly, HOW MANY PEOPLE WERE AT THIS EVENT? Let's see here. We have the following:
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Oxen and lambs.
The mule they rode in on.
Three wise men.
At least one angel.
A kid with a drum.
EVERYBODY the King invited over during "Do you hear what I hear" (more on this song later)
A bunch of shepherds
Their flock
...that's a lot of people to show up for this event. You'd think that after a birth like that a) they'd want to get out of the place where ox and lambs are defecating and eating (not necessarily a stable, but still you don't put livestock near a baby), and b) let Mary rest since they didn't have pain killers in those days and holy spirit or no, it couldn't have been a painless birth at which point you'd think they'd find a room at a real inn after the first night.
...then again, I'm just probably overthinking this. Pa rum pum pum pum.
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