We went to Bethel Maine. Nice little town. It’s coming on fall. The weather couldn’t make up its mind to be gloomy or not. The sky alternated between lowering at us and showing us a rich cerulean blue mixed with jolly clouds. Of course I could wow you with my penetrating insights about cerulean blue, intoning Pantone shades and cribbing from Claude Monet’s color palette. Maybe I could even impress you by spelling palette correctly, I don’t know. Or maybe I could just admit that I only know the cerulean color from my set of Crayolas from the second grade. Luckily for me, I have a good memory, and even luckier, Crayola doesn’t actually put cobalt stannate in their cerulean crayons, or I would have surely died when I ate mine.
No one is eating crayons in Bethel that I observed. The population of Bethel is approximately no one, so I can draw such conclusions. I exaggerate. The population is about 2500 souls, all of whom were obviously hiding from us. It was Friday in the early afternoon, and almost nobody passed by us on our peripatations. We do have a lean and hungry look, so maybe they were wise to shelter in place, as the saying goes.
There’s a private high school in town with about 200 students lurking in it called Gould Academy:
It’s got a campus that makes most any Ivy League college look like a Calcutta slum.
If the buildings don’t get you to apply, the view from the soccer pitch might:
We’re a couple of weeks early for leaf peeping, but that scene will go technicolor all over shortly.
We don’t get out much, so we’re much more prone to sticker shock than most folks. For example, we ate breakfast in the same diner we visited just before buying our house way back when. It’s one of the few places you can order eggs over hard and they show up that way. Nice people. But I don’t remember paying forty bucks for two people to eat breakfast last time we were there. Or ever. Anywhere. Still, here we are.
It’s silly to talk of sticker shock and Gould Academy. Tuition and board is reportedly about $73,000 a year. For high school. So I assume sticker shock is what they send through the paddles they place on dad’s chest in the ambulance, after a session at the bursar’s office. But I’m sure the tuition equivalent of driving a Mercedes into the ocean every year must result in a short trip to mover and shaker land after matriculation. Let’s paw over their list of notable alumni for Nobel laureates and such:
Amelia Brodka: professional skateboarder. Hmm. Last time I checked, you didn’t need 1220 on your SATs and $300,000 in high school tuition to learn a 50/50 grind, but what do I know?
Margaret Joy Tibbets: Ambassador to Norway for Lyndon Johnson. Hmm. I only vaguely remember LBJ, but I have the impression he appointed Maggie to that post because he didn’t like her. Coulda been worse. I don’t think he liked JFK, either, and look how that turned out.
Geo Soctomah Neptune: Passamaquoddy basket maker. Hmm. I must be getting old. I remember when “basket weaving class” was an amusing euphemism for a basketball player’s curriculum. Old Two Spirit Geo has a Wikipedia page, which is a copious compendium of non-conformity.
Marilyn Mollicone: botanist. Hmm. I’m sorry, Marilyn, but I speak some Spanish and I don’t feel comfortable even uttering your last name. But according to the Wikiup, “She was the longest recorded member of the Josselyn Botanical Society.” So that’s something. I think.
Edward S. Morse: zoologist. Hmm. According to the Wikiup, he is considered the “Father of Japanese archaeology.” I’m not sure how to tie zoology in with Japanese archaeology without causing an international incident, but apparently he did it. And by the way, Japanese Archaeology is the name of my Vapors tribute band. But I digress.
Arn Chorn-Pond: Cambodian musician and activist. Hmm. I always get the heebie jeebies when anyone winds up their CV with “activist.” According to the Wikiup, he advocates for the “healing power of music.” Sounds great, but if you don’t mind, Arn, I’ll stick with penicillin and The Price Is Right playing on a teevee bolted up high on the wall in my hospital room.
Matt Bevin: The 62nd governor of Kentucky. Hmm. He got voted out of office after speaking at a pro-cockfighting rally. I’m not sure I could vote for someone who doesn’t know the difference between Kentucky and South Carolina.
Well, I can see this is a fool’s errand, and even though I’m perfect for that job, let’s move on.
Lord knows how many people might be in this town in the winter. It’s ski country. Even now, before the leaves turn, there are precious few Maine license plates on the street. Sunday River ski resort is down the strada, along with a couple of other, smaller hills. No worries. There’s room for everyone. Bethel is in with the inn crowd:
The main drag is a pleasant allee heading out of the town center:
The grand houses on the street are almost all perfectly maintained, although many of them are no longer grand houses. Lots are B&Bs and museums that aren’t open on any day I noticed, whether you’re consulting a Julian or Gregorian calendar.
A swing by the Event Center was decidedly uneventful.
There’s a nice mix of Greek Revival, Stick Style, Adam Colonial, and assorted other handsome styles. Vinyl siding need not apply.
So visit Bethel, Maine. You won’t be jostled on the sidewalk. If someone approaches you from the opposite direction while you’re walking around, you can always walk down the middle of the street. You can read all the menus posted outside the numerous restaurants whether they’re open or not, which is good, because they’re not. When driving, you’ll have to avoid running over the Billie Eilish wannabee Gould students in the crosswalk, but other than that, it’s smooth sailing.
If you get lonesome, you can always stop at the Irving gas station/Rusty Lantern market on the way out of town. We stopped to let my wife use the bathroom, and unlike the rest of the town, every parking space was full. If you need some beef jerky and vodka, or pretzel rods made by an oil company, the place has you covered.
One Response
It wasn’t the cock fighting incident that did Matt Bevan in; it was his efforts to revamp the State pension system. Don’t mess with the rice bowl. it messes back. Hard.
It was rumors- just rumors, mind- that AG Cameron when running for governor last year said that Bevan didn’t go hard enough for pension reform. And he lost as well. Again; that rice bowl thing.