Well, Maine has really been letting me down of late. It’s getting harder and harder to populate Great Moments in Maine Real Estate, because many of the free spirits in the state, with the appropriate “devil may care” attitude, have lit out for greener pastures, or maybe gone back to prison. I don’t know exactly why they would prefer to live in a pasture than a house in Maine, but I have my suspicions. Here are just a few clues to the mindset:
For a rural Maine man, this place has it all. Mildew blooms, plastic over the busted windows, an ad-hoc fence to keep the dog amused, if not corralled. An electric heater abandoned right next to an abandoned air conditioner on top of a meager woodpile. Over yonder is the pickup truck bed cap from a vehicle last registered in 1987, and long since gone to its scrapyard reward. This stuff is only piled outside because the inside is already stuffed to the sagging rafters with similar jetsam. But the piece de resistance has got to be the “I ♥ Poon” bumper sticker on the door.
Decorating schemes in Maine generally crash into the Scylla of the Hobby Lobby, bounce off, and then careen into the side of the Home Depot Charybdis. The center of the main channel through the architectural straits is clear, and well-marked with Martha Stewart buoys, but Mainers don’t trust anything that looks that easy. So they’ll often find themselves stranded on the shoals of the Island of OSB, and similar ersatz plywood materials. This Gilligan must have been stranded overlong, because every surface in this house — ceiling, walls, floors, everything– is covered in oriented strand board. In case I forget to mention it later: Please, No Smoking.
This room has it all. I’m surprised there isn’t a stove and fridge in there, too. It’s got a map of Maine on the wall in case you find yourself lost while making your way from the bed to the woob-woob tub. Sometimes I think Mainers think of everything. Other times I think other things. But anyway, I’m flummoxed why they don’t install a diving board off the footboard. Seems easier and safer than two marble stairs.
This room has a lot going for it. It’s tranquil. There may or may not be someone dozing in the sleeping bag while the realtor tiptoes in to take a picture. The comfort level is high. When you’re lying on your mattress, discerning TV watchers always turn the set on its side, to match the orientation of your noggin. The windows are spray painted black to keep nosy neighbors and parole officers from peeking in, or the sunshine from disturbing the spiders who hold the ceiling down on top of the walls with their silky constructions. There are elegant photos of Marilyn Monroe on the wall, so that any hot supermodels who might drop by will feel at home. Snacks are always close at hand, if you’re willing to fish through the packages and fight the ants for the remainders. However, there are just too many half-filled jugs of yellowish liquids in the picture to suit my delicate sensibilities. The resident must work at an Amazon fulfillment center, and he takes his work home with him, is my guess.
You can see our entire series of Great Moments in Maine Real Estate here.
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6 Responses
Thanks for posting. I thought you might have gone on walk-about. Nothing you post on Maine real estate surprises me after twenty years in VT. Reality is much stranger than fiction.
Hi Ralph- Thanks for reading and commenting.
Nosmo King? I thought that was a woodstove jack on the left-hand wall of the Shrine to OSB?
Hi Blackwing- Yup, that’s what it is. Mainers are constantly trying to set themselves on fire. It’s usually by “freshening up the stove,” a euphemism for throwing a cup of kerosene or gas on the fire. This is usually followed by the local fire department trying to “save the basement.”
I think what concerned me was the the way the yellow liquid jugs are all lined up, separate from the obvious trash. Like they’re being…saved for something.
In Maine, your wealth is not measured in dollars or real estate but by the amount of crap you have managed to accumulate in your life, all of which is displayed in your yayd. Several dead cars and pickup trucks, a decrepit snowmobile and/or small boat are the bare minimum. Moving up in the world, you might have a dead backhoe, a deli case and a good size pile of dismantled warehouse shelving, ladders and a busted up above ground pool. And at least 3 mangy dogs.