We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
You have to half-crazy to move to Rumford, Maine. Hardly anybody moves to Maine anymore, much less Rumford. Maybe Portland, for a summertime-only retirement (six months plus one day in Florida, and no state income taxes to pay - and estate tax advantages to when you get to that point).
Winter is a wonderful, lovely thing, but, unless you are a skiier, it goes on too long up there. (However, we were 26 degrees F this morning down here, thanks to the crisis of Global Cooling.) You cannot grow tomatoes in your garden up there unless you build a greenhouse but that's not too hard - you just throw a couple of layers of polyurethane over some old boards in the sun next to the back of the house. "Just put some bleachers out in the sun..."
The Northeast is full of dying old towns where the best jobs are government jobs and where industry has fled for friendlier climes with friendlier taxation. In my opinion, if you move to a place in the hinterlands with a 6,000 population, you had really better love your spouse - and your family.
Little old Rumford is fortunate, however, to have its own online newspaper, the Rumford Meteor. It's good for keeping up with the town's main forms of recreation, which appear to be DUI and marijuana. However, from the reports, towns like Rumford still have their cadres of good old reserved and private Yankee small town folk who go to church and whose kids will play football and go to wars and want to work. They will mostly leave town, for sure, but some won't.
When I think about it, I realize that maybe I have to be at least half-crazy to live where I live, too. But my friends are here - and my church and my work - and I can get to good olde NYC once in a while - so I guess I will stay put. Nothing is perfect.
For me, Maine means grouse hunting and Moose filet mignon and Bert and I. I've heard that Sugarloaf is great, but never tried it. Too long of a drive, and the delights of skiing are hassle enough.
Doesn't sound a whole lot different from the towns of rural Nebraska. While there was never any industry to close down and move away, the retail businesses have shriveled, and the best jobs are generally government jobs.
While some of the towns are clearly dying, it is surprising how stable the population is in many of the little towns. Many have stayed essentially the same for decades.
6000 would be a city where I live. The two closest towns are about 750 and 1000.
Rumford Meteor. An interesting name. Newspaper names interest me. One wonders how the names were chosen and why.
Well, not everybody is cut out for running in place in the little hamster wheel they put you in at places like suburban Connecticut. The small towns, even the hard-scrabble ones, have many shortcomings and down sides. But the right person can find simplicity, integrity, and community along with the boredom, limited economic prospects, and parochialism. And some parts of the big bright city are the most parochial places on the earth.
Interesting that BD has a connection with Bob Bryan of "Bert and I" fame. Homer Babbidge, who wrote the liner notes for the original "Bert and I," spoke at my high school commencement. We were as aware of his having written the liner notes as of his occupational significance.
There is a certain resemblance between the Downeast Maine accent and certain old Southern accents, at least as spoken by elderly rural Texans from families who had come from Tennessee. Such as: speaking rather slowly. Such as: dropping the r's. " A dollah" is not found only in Noo Yawk and eastern New England. Some dipthonging, but not necessarily on the same words: “goo-ud” for “good” in Maine and other parts of New England, "steel" for "still" in the South.
Used to have a friend that lived in Rumford and his Dad worked at the Rumford mill many years ago when I was a kid.
That snow is why I moved south and away from Bangor. The original team of Marshall Dodge and Bob Bryan was great, although I never got to see only hear their recordings, however, Tim Sample filled in after Dodge passed away and he is very funny.