Holy crikies, what a wonderful past couple weeks it’s been.
I zipped up to Maine last week to visit my alma mater (does that work for high school and college?) and have my high school reunion with my fellow Lincoln Eagles. It was really trippy hanging out with all these people I used to know as kids. Some looked really great and some looked…well…beaten about a bit by life. But it was great to see them all.
My home town, Damariscotta, Maine
We got a tour of our old high school, which was petrifying and thrilling all at once.
Here I am, sitting on “the wall” with Beth Souza, well before Game of Thrones. My old high school pals Cara and Gwen had a great time, because there was alcohol.
After the tour, we had a little reception and then moved to a nearby restaurant where one of my old classmates pulled some schemes and got me up on stage to perform. I have a video of it and I may even post it. I didn’t want to perform, I was scared to get on stage in front of my classmates for some reason. But ultimately, I’m glad I did. My old pal Sumner then took the stage and played some songs on guitar while I sang. It was ethereal. The fish and chips wasn’t bad, either.
Class of ’94
My husband and I camped out because I missed the boat on getting a cabin by waiting too long. So we slept in a tent on the ground, which was actually quite fabulous, until it started pouring rain. But before the torrential showers, we’d picked up lots of goodies from Trader Joe’s and cooked up a couple pretty dope meals over open fires we started with ease. I still got it! The site we were camped in had a spread of mushrooms, everywhere–dozens of different types and colors surrounded the tent.
L: Don’t know what it is, but wouldn’t eat it.
R: Am pretty sure what it is (psilocybin?) but still wouldn’t eat it.
I went to the library to teach a ukulele class and while I was there, I grabbed a mushroom identity book. I seriously think I ID’d psilocybin but there was no way I was going to test it. Been there, done that, done. I just looked at the pretty things and pretended I was a mycologist for 15 minutes.
We drove around the midcoast area and enjoyed the sights in our rental car.
L: Hazy early morning old timey car in Bristol,
R: view of Christmas Cove in South Bristol (they get good pot there)
I love driving. I spotted a VW Vanagon bus and asked how much — $12,000! Youch. I fell in love with the old thing but yikes. If anyone has a VW bus they’d like to donate to my festival, I will write you a charitable tax deduction receipt. Let’s tawk.
Want a tax deductible receipt for your VW Bus? Call me.
We stopped at a giant pile of garbage and bought a bunch of it, as I like to do. I got some cool vintage clothing and a unicorn pin. Once the rain began coming down, we split and headed back to NYC to wait it out.
Only $3, good deal, right?!
A few days later, I hopped into a car with a couple strangers and headed north to Bethel, ME where Sunday River is located, to romp about in the Maine Comedy Festival.
Not the car I hopped into.
It was so much fun, way more so than your typical comedy event, and I love comedy and festivals. On Thursday night, we arrived at the large Bethel Inn and Resort which immediately gave off a haunted vibe, just in time to play poker, which I promptly lost at.
L: Excellent booze slinger. R: Excellent poker player.
Mark from Sobieski vodka, the fest’s sponsor was there buying me lots more alcohol than I’m supposed to drink on a school night. I stumbled to my room and crashed out, late.
The next day, I got up early and had a wonderful hotel breakfast on par with the 4 Seasons. My new comedian pals and I played shuffleboard and tennis, then we went and jumped into a pristine lake. I swam far from one dock to the next and baked in the sun like a warm seal. Later, we watched half our peers do their show, which was fantastic. I now have 5-7 new comedians I have crushes on.
L: Preparing for old age. R: Johnny Ater shows Poland Springs
what it really means to be from Maine.
Saturday, we played more shuffleboard, more tennis, walked around town a bit, then went to jump off a cliff into a pool of freezing cold mountain waterfall water called Frenchman’s Hole. I opted out, but all the crazy people I was hanging out with jumped in, save one or two other brainy ones.
A fashion disaster a concerned comedian pal talked me out of purchasing.
L: Frenchman’s Hole R: Dry, smart people and one daredevil.
We headed back to the Inn with a quick stop for some very tasty barbecue made out of a small, fluorescent orange trailer, then basked in the setting sun, goofing off like children.
L: BBQ in a trailer. R: My boring white girl tag.
The show followed, and it was very long but wonderful. Jessica Kirson really killed the crowd as the headliner. My set was fine, but I felt a little bit out of practice. I still sold like 8 pairs of my I Love My Vagina underwear and a bunch of CDs, though, so there was that.
A bunch of happy customers.
It was sad on Sunday to eat breakfast for the last day of our gathering, then hit the road headed south.
Our last breakfast together as a group. See how sad we all are?
I had such a great time and made some new BFFs who I think I’ll stay in touch with for years to come. If you ever get a chance to go to the Maine Comedy Festival in Bethel, just do it. As a matter of fact, start planning now. You will not regret it. Wow. What a shindig!
In a few weeks I’ll head for the U.K. for End of the Road fest and a few other gigs. I’ll see you in England…