Contemplating the future

I've never been more open to moving than I am now. The cold has a little to do with it. The fact that I don't want to be here when the Cubs win the World Series has a little to do with it. Yeah, I said it. The lack of close friends in this area and growing number if friends around the country has something to do with it. The fact that my father had talked about moving somewhere for two decades and never did also has something to do with it.

But here's what it really comes down to. I feel I'm progressing personally and professionally pretty quickly. As a result, I'm gaining confidence to a point that I have more to offer than what I knew. And that's saying a lot, considering the confidence issues I've had since I was a kid. I do enjoy the culture of Chicago, it's truly special. I have been here on and off for 19 years and all of the last 13. It's a home. But I don't believe this is where I want to live the rest of my life.

I do not know what city I want to move to, though I have a few ideas. The advantage I have is working at the school that I do, there are dozens of locations across the country. I have no lack of options. And with the work I've put in with this company, and ten years experience in this industry, I know what I have to offer. I'm just keeping my mind open and I believe by this time next year, something in my life will be different. It better be, because I want to be willing to take more chances and take a more proactive approach to my life.

Lead me oh Lord. Guide me along the way. Show me how to listen to you first, before anyone else. Amen.

Portland, Day 2

We got up around 7 and I walked straight into the gym. The one good thing about my balcony was it was just steps away from the gym. It was your typical cheap hotel gym: a couple of cardio machines, a water fountain, and a universal lifting machine, which is impossible to figure out. I ran 3.5 miles in about a half hour, as I recall. It's not as fast as I used to go, but I did use some inclines. And it gave me the confidence that if I wanted to do a 5k again, I can still do really well with some training. I'm convinced I'm still the only person who likes the treadmill over running outside. I'll say it again if the temperature is under 50 degrees, I ain't running outside.

After cleaning up, we headed to Ohno cafe near USM for breakfast sandwiches. I got us each an egg, bacon, and Vermont cheddar on a bialy. Good stuff. In the cafe, it was a lot of people who looked like they were ready to take a hike. Lot of beards, colorful clothes, a homeless guy with long shaggy gray hair just came in and got a custom coffee for himself. The night before, we're driving through a quiet part of downtown and we saw a series of people high as can be just stumbling their way through the middle of the street, totally oblivious to the possibility that a car might be oncoming. Portland, Maine and Portland, Oregon are so similar, it's frightening.

Anyway, it was a very overcast day, there was a 90 percent chance of rain forecasted. Mom forgot her wallet, so we had to go back to the hotel to get that. Thankfully, the hotel was only about 6 or 7 minutes away from the ferry terminal, so it was just a way to kill a few minutes. She had arranged for us to take the mailboat route off of Portland and to all around the surrounding islands. Unfortunately, on a day like this, the visibility was so low had we could not see more than a couple of yards off of the boat. Also, it was quite cold off the coast; my rain slicker wasn't quite enough.

What a lot of people do is take these large boats just to get around to different places. I can't imagine living like this, where I'd require a boat that only runs every few hours and costs $16 to take me to the mainland and supply all my groceries, mail, supplies, etc.  The whole ride took almost three hours and we were both anxious for it to end.

I did notice that the area was incredibly pet friendly. I guess a lot of the residents keep animals. The boat we took had at least five or six dogs at a time.

After getting into the car and turning the heat on, we drove north on 295 to Freeport, home of LL Bean. This was a really intriguing town, with tons of outlets and shopping spots. By this time, mom's knee was so bad that she was really struggling to walk. She did buy a pair of black shoes from Clark's, which will be getting mailed to her in the coming days. I hope this pair works out, she has so much trouble finding shoes that are comfortable on her feet.

I checked out the Bass stores, and it seems every time I go into a Bass outlet, I make a purchase, usually shoes of some kind. This was no different, as I got a pair of chocolate brown sandals for about 45 bucks. I almost brought a blue and white checkered shirt from Brooks Brothers, but the truth is I could really use dress slacks more, so I passed. I did try out the LL Bean outlet, but nothing in there caught my interest. I guess if I was into fishing or camping, it would be more my speed.

We did grab two bowls of clam chowder at the Lobster Cooker. They came in paper bowls with a side of oyster crackers. Eight bucks per bowl seemed like a lot, but it was an excellent chowder and I could really taste the large pieces of clam as well. Very hearty and satisfying on a chilly day.

By mid afternoon, mom appeared ready to collapse. But we stopped at a place called Wilbur's chocolates where I got a bag of salt water taffy for my co workers and a slice of blueberry pie for myself. Maine is well known for their blueberries and they were incredibly bright and flavorful in this pie. We went back to to the room (the chlorine condo) and mom napped for maybe two hours. As for me, I watched the Bar Rescue marathon and Family Feud. This Mets game didn't quite turn out so well.

By 5:30, we were ready for dinner. I had made a reservation for the Grill Room at 6:30. But we just have a knack for being early, so we figured we'd try. Mom actually had been hesitant to go, because she didn't want me spending too much. Granted I'd spent over $150 already, but I knew this looked like a great spot.

We got a spot on the street, that I never would have taken because I hate to parallel park. After mom bought the first two glasses of wine, we got a table. The coarse salt came in a bowl, not even a shaker. We were given focaccia with a distinct salt and rosemary flavor. The olive oil that accompanied was definitely aged, it had a notable sweetness to it.

We started with scallops topped with a bacon truffle vinaigrette and a frisee salad. Two scallops for 14 bucks! That's really steep, but they had an excellent flavor. And now, I'm all for adding bacon to any vinaigrette.

Mom got the swordfish special with lobster mashed potatoes (which likely jacked that price up about 10 bucks) and fiddle heads. They're a green that look like kiwi fruit but have a bitter taste to them. I guess they're used often in Maine cooking. Why they have that name, I have no idea.

As for me, I knew for a week in advance that I'd be getting the coffee and ancho chili rubbed pork chop with creamed corn, spinach, crispy onions and cider glaze. The spice of the coffee and ancho complemented the corn beautifully. Somehow the onions were gone almost immediately! The chop was very well cooked, no pink, but still very juicy. I would rate it almost as good as da pork chop at Ditka's. I also enjoyed a wonderful glass of Malbec for just seven bucks.

We were so loaded that dessert wasn't even a thought. Back to the room for more Bar Rescue, Beat Bobby Flay, and a few minutes of the NBA finals, which was over quite quickly. I would've watched ROH until mom said it was time for bed!

Flying back was a little tough. Security was actually the easiest I've ever had since 9/11. I didn't have to take liquids out of my bag, I didn't need to remove my shoes, and my computer stayed in my bag. I just took out my phone and belt and I walked right through.

Even though the flights looked wide open from Portland to Philly really on, we would find out it wasn't so easy. The weather from the previous night resulted in American cancelling flights. So all those people showed up the next morning. Mom got on, but I wasn't so lucky. I got bumped off two flights, which did give me a chance to listen to Joe and Evan on WFAN.

But after the second bump, I had a two hour wait and I was off to the bar especially since I hadn't eaten all day. I got a tall shipyard export ale, which was an outstanding beer. Medium bodied, copper in color, smooth finish. I had a chicken and bacon sandwich, which wasn't great, but it was ok. I was actually proud of myself for getting steamed veggies instead of fries as my side. I chatted with a local guy who is a power line worker in Maine. He had one of the classic lumberjack beards and the New England accent. Very cool dude, but that accent should just not be allowed.

I did get on the 1:20 plane out to Philly. The strange thing was when I got off the plane to the terminal, I saw the departure board, and there were no Chicago flights listed at all. So I had to run back to the main board two terminals away, only to find out I had two more terminals to go. Two days prior, I was slowly pushing my mother through these hallways in wheelchair. Now I was running to get to the gate on time.

I got there and it looked like a sardine can. There were 14 standby passengers, and I was 13, which was crazy. The key was I went up to the gate and made myself a thru passenger, meaning I was making a connecting flight. All of a sudden, I moved up from 13 to 6 and got a seat.

As I type this, I'm just flying over the eastern border of Michigan. As I reflect over this trip, I'm grateful I got to travel. I don't really have any interest in returning to Portland though. Hopefully New Mexico or Washington state will be checked off the list in the next couple of months.

Portland, Day 1

I hadn't been to Maine in 14 years. But it was mom's birthday weekend and I hadn't been there in 14 years. American airlines had only recently gained access to their airport after the merger with US Air. But they only fly into D.C., Charlotte, and Philadelphia. I think the last time I had to take a connecting flight on American was when I went to Mexico.

We missed our first plane, so we took a 7 a.m. to Philly. I'd never flown there before, but I was impressed week ask the so on the wall and city history on display. For instance, on one of the moving walkways, there were posters displayed of movies that had been shot in Philadelphia. Since mom's knee is still in really bad shape, I pushed her around in a wheelchair over the terminal. We went to Tony Luke's and split a cheesesteak, which was absolutely tremendous.

The flight to Portland took off a little bit late, but the gate agent never gave us a reason or timetable. So everybody was just sitting around wondering what was going on. We left about 45 minutes late. The disappointment was we had to cancel our boat trip that afternoon. We landed and picked up our rented red Nissan Altima, which only had 1100 miles on it and cost just 20 bucks a day.

We drove south to Kennebunkport, which is well known for being the Bush's residence. It's a classic New England coastal town, very little space to move, and a lot of little local shops right off the water. And of course, there was plenty of seafood. We went to Mabel's, one of the best known seafood joints in the state. Mom asked recommendations and wound up getting a two pound stuffed lobster with shrimp, crab meat, drawn butter, and God knows what else. I was fine with broiled scallops. We also split some fried whole belly clams, maybe my favorite fried seafood. It wasn't a cheap meal, but it was wonderful.

The weather in Maine is pretty crazy, I would actually call it bipolar. When we got off the plane, it was around 80 and sunny. By the time we finished lunch maybe two hours later, it was maybe 65 and the sun was tying to fight its way through a completely a gray sky. We did walk around Kennebunkport and they had a lot of nice souvenirs. Very classy, not trashy. But finding a parking space is just brutal. It's one lane roads with tons of pedestrians. So the traffic moves at the speed of kites and the space is so limited. After fifteen minutes, we did find a lot.

From there, we headed a little farther north to Old Orchard beach, where mom used to spend summers when she was really young. As we drove down Route 9, which is the coastal road in that town where everything is going on, it reminded me a lot of Coney Island. A huge amusement park, a lot of families, and a demographic that was very lower middle class. I also noticed a ton of Canadian flags. I guess they like to come down in the summers and warm up in Maine. We also went through the neighboring village of Ocean Park, which is another beach community. As we approached the old summer camp where my grandfather used to be a camp counselor, mom just started crying. She was thinking about growing up and how much it hurts her to think about how fractured her family has now become. It's not easy to watch, but I just figured it was best to give her a few minutes to get some more emotion out. Both of my parents have become absolute softies when it comes to crying, over the last 5 years.

By now, it was approaching 6:00 and I just wanted to go to the hotel, check in, and clean up. We checked into the Clarion, near the airport. I hadn't seen one of these hotels since I was last in Newark. We got a room on the first floor, which I'm not used to. I was happy about not needing to use elevators. Until we opened up the door to the room and then it hit us. The pungent smell of chlorine and bleach. The balcony of our room overlooked the indoor pool. After I was in the room for about 5 minutes, I got more used to it. But every time we'd return to the room over the weekend, we would open the door and that brutal chlorine smell would hit us fresh all over again.

Mom napped for an hour and I tracked the end of the Mets victory in Miami. Around 6:30, we drove six minutes east into the arts district of downtown Portland. We had dinner at Slab, a Sicilian style pizza pub with a really nice bar and dark interior. I had a German lager and one square piece of pizza. To us, it really tasted like pizza bread. The crust was pretty chewy and the cheese was really hard to notice. It was ok, but if I went back, I would have tried something else.

From there, we drove a little bit east on Congress St and walked into Blue, an intimate live music venue. They had a jazz trio playing, a sax, bass, and drum. I like that they didn't charge a cover, but the suggested donation was $25. Most covers for these kind of venues are maybe $10, $15 at the most. So I felt it was steep, but I figured they did that because they hope people will be extra generous. I drank a bourbon sweet tea, with black tea, simple syrup, lemon, and Bulleit bourbon. Pretty good cocktail, and it was satisfying, especially with spice of the bourbon.