She turned me into a newt!

Having left Backstage, I once again took the US1, south towards Boston. The weather was better so I figured I would maybe see something more interesting this time around.

It was quite a scenic drive, both right along the ocean and a bit further inland through Smalltown America. The only gripe I have is that there is no real warning when turns and off-ramps turn up, unless you're on a major highway. Driving through the smaller cities I had to double back several times because I was in the wrong lane when my turn popped up out of nowhere and the local school bus was right next to me.

Anywho. I managed to not get lost, and this without a GPS. Wonder of wonders. I had a massive stack of scrumptous pancakes at a mom and pop place in the middle of nowhere and then to the left. And I looked at the ocean some more.

Standard blog pose. Check.

Then I decided to go to Salem, where the infamous witch trials were held in 1692, since it was sort of on the way. I visited two museums and wandered around town a bit. Verdict? Utter crap. The Salem Witch Museum did have an interesting timeline of the phenomenon of witches and how they have been persecuted throughout the ages, but other than that nothing much. The main presentation was done by a recorded voice speaking in a pompous, "evil" tone, while spotlights highlighted scenes he was describing. The dummies in the scenes had cobwebs hanging from arms and farm implements and such. On the whole, a very unconvincing spectacle.

The funniest and at the same time most insulting piece of faulty information was this (paraphrased): "During the Salem Witch Trials 16 people were executed. In Europe, during the Spanish Inquisition and the Medieval Inquisition, millions were executed."

Millions? Really? In the middle of the 14th century, the plague struck Europe and severely decimated it's population, which was approx 70 million people, down to as little as 30 million, if some accounts are to be believed. The Spanish Inquisition began in the late 1400s, when Europe was far from recovered from the plague.

Let's say the population was 50 million at this time. "millions" implies several million. Let's say 3 million, half at the feet of the Medieval Inquisition (even though they believed executing a heretic was to admit defeat) and half at the feet of the Spanish Inquisition. So the Spanish Inquisition killed three percent of Europe's population? I had no idea.

I looked at different sources today, and the consensus seems to be that the Spanish Inquisition executed less than 10 000 people over it's entire course. A far cry from "millions". If I find the time and the energy I will put together something more serious than this, run it by a historian or two, and then send it to the frikkin' museum.

Wow. Researching and ranting can really keep me from going to bed. 0030 now. Tomorrow shopping and the circus!

Backstage America, part 2

Oh. I forgot. On the way north to Shapleigh, Maine (home of EGE and other mysterious creatures), I turned off the I-95 and took the smaller US1 up the coast. I had a lot of time and figured I wanted to see something other than a boring interstate highway.

What I did see were some people on some beaches.

I did try to smile. Really. I did.

Note Decepticons logo on hat. Win!

Evidently, these people hadn't listened to the weather report and seemed to possess no ability to turn their heads 180 degrees and look at the horizon, in the direction I am looking in the pic. Huge, and I do mean huge, storm clouds rolled in. I got in my car and rolled out of there before the panicked exodus began.

When the rain started I had to stop and wait for 20 minutes. I couldn't even see the road, because it rained so hard. Around me, throughout the small touristy coastal communities, people in bathing clothes scrambled for shelter and tried to keep towels and toys and boom boxes and whatever they were carrying dry. Not likely that happened.

So. Back to Shapleigh. We passed a church with a sign that said "Heaven and Hell are real places." Fire and brimstone, right there. EGE told me what it had said earlier. Dust on your bible will doom your poor soul. Ponder on that one for a while. Not only while it doom your soul. It will doom your poor soul.

We also passed a road called Big Ass Truck Drive. Funny.

Finally, we went to a place called Mulligan's where everything costs five dollars or less. I had a 4.69 dollar club sandwich, which was really good. EGE had a sallad. In a very small bowl. That refused to be eaten.

First quote of the day, about the fork:

It's not a bad sallad. It's just a bad delivery system.

Eventually, the food was consumed, and we went on to dessert. EGE's birthday was coming up so I figured we'd have a birthday dinner kind of thing. Chocolate cake and strawberry short cake was devoured.

Outside the restaurant, there was a big old clock on the ground, probably once the top of the tower it sat next to.

Cool clock next to Swede trying to look cool.

For some reason, EGE had the brilliant idea that we should go for ice cream afterwards. Now, as you know, we all have a second stomach for ice cream, so naturally I said yes. I figured two scoops would be enough. Then I saw the size of the scoops. Each was larger than my fist. But I persevered! Death to the ice cream!

The best of many a during

ice cream eating pics of EGE.

We basically rolled to the car. On the way back to the house a slight degree of road rage was expressed as a person, who shall remain nameless, said of the car in front:

Person 1: Move it!

Person 2: He's not in a hurry.

Person 3: But I am, because I'm full and I want to get home so I can get out of these pants.

That is all. I am in Montreal right now, which will be documented in future posts.

Backstage America, part 1

Back in 2008, I had a blog. I wrote about all sorts of things and thought I was funny at times.

June 28th, 2008, I clicked "show a random blog" (or whatever the function was called) and ended up here. I started reading and found the blog both funny and interesting.

The second comment I posted was:

Your life is like...not a sit-com, but some sort of TV show where awkward moments are legion and you're not really sure if you laugh with the characters or at them. And I mean that in the best possible way.

As it turned out, EGE found my blog interesting enough to read too. We started commenting back and forth. Then Facebook came along. So we kept commenting there. We talked about The Big Questions or just spent time being snarky. Mostly she calls me a big girl. Which isn't far from the truth.

EGE lives in Maine, about an hour and a half from Boston. My class was outside Boston. So I figured what the hell. I'll swing by and get a chance to see parts of the States I haven't seen yet. And so we made plans.

So on Monday I drove my rental car north, aiming for Bentley's Saloon where she works. She had forbidden me from calling because she wanted to hear my accent face to face. She was sorely disappointed I didn't sound like the Swedish Chef.

It's odd meeting someone you've only spoken to in text, but it felt totally natural. We went to her house:

Insert appropriate Stephen King reference here.

We talked and made burgers and tried to keep her dog Charlie out of the kitchen.

Great dane/lab mix, and quite the character.

The next day, EGE went off to work. I slept in. Wrote some. Took a nap. Facebooked. Wrote some more. Took a nap. I had been sleepy all of week six of Odyssey, even nodding off in class a few times, and the days after too. After this sleepathon, I am out of the woods and back to being the energetic, cheerful Beardonaut you have come to know and love. Well . . . maybe not energetic. Or cheerful. But you get the point.

We drove around a lot that day. A tour of the roads of Backstage America. This is a place I've only passed through shortly, and often on far bigger roads than this:

EGE's 250 dollar car in the distance.

I have to board a plane for Montreal now, so that's it for now. More later.