Updated on June 6, 2016
One thing about Vermont is that there are places where there is no wifi signal. I don’t mean “three bars or fewer,” I mean ZERO. It’s hard to believe in the 21st century, but there it is.
The problem is I’m close to Canada. I’m closer to Montreal than I am to other parts of Vermont. I don’t know how Canadians connect to the net, but I assume there’s a hand crank involved.
Anyhow, if I’m going to be out there in these desolate ghost towns like Montpelier, I’ll need to post information and warnings without waiting for the afternoon zeppelin. So I’m posting this via email from my phone. I’m curious about the formatting.
Speaking of which, let’s see what it does with photos. I’ll need photographic evidence of my wild but true claims.
Stay tuned! Moose news tomorrow!
Updated on June 5, 2016
Most of you have realized by now I moved from Atlanta, Georgia, to Burlington, Vermont. When I tell people that, the most common question I get is “Who the hell are you? Do you Feel the Bern?”
But occasionally people ask me why I did that. It’s because Vermont doesn’t have an extradition agreement with Georgia.
Updated on August 24, 2015
I just finished a short vacation in Dover, New Hampshire.
That’s not a sentence you read often. But that’s where my friend Kathy lives, so Dover it is!
If you’re like everyone else not living within 10 miles of Dover, you have likely never heard of the place. It has an interesting history: it was founded in 1793 by Bostonians who were being persecuted for their beliefs — particularly, their belief that the Red Sox are “wicked retahted.” They fled Boston intending to head south to Dover, Delaware, but they held the map upside down. To this day, their descendants have no idea where they’re going.
Posted on August 3, 2015
I barely remember anything the rest of the day after Mann Gulch. I think I took a shower while holding myself up with both arms. I know I handed my wallet to the woman at the front desk and told her to take whatever was needed to get me several Aleves. And I have the bill from taking my numerous Charley horses out to eat. Beyond that, no idea. I apologize if I called any of you whimpering about my hip flexors. Read More
Updated on July 31, 2015
I don’t think I can be funny while talking about Mann Gulch. To those of you who just said “or anything else for that matter” — hahahahahaha no refunds.
Truly, I would feel like a jerk if I even tried. Like getting a case of the giggles during the Changing of the Guard at Arlington Cemetery.
I think few of you know anything about Mann Gulch or why I’ve been going on about it. Not to mention why I bothered to make this pilgrimage. For whatever reason, it’s not stayed in the national consciousness like other tragedies such as Pearl Harbor or Titanic or Amazon’s Prime Day Sale. The least I can do is tell you the story while telling about my own experiences there. Maybe that will help some of you learn why I find Mann Gulch and its history so powerful.
And then, yes, I’ll shut up about it. Maybe.