You might be a Lezbakistanian

The other day we watched the comedy special called “Blue Collar something and something…” with Jeff Foxworthy, Larry the Cable guy, and a couple of others. Some of it was prepubescent male humor that we didn’t laugh at but some of it was darn right lyao… anyway… subconsciously it must have rubbed off on us. Because… we were driving down the highway in our RV and we saw this sign at a Golden Corral. All it said was catering available. And I instantly blurt out. If Golden Coral catered your last wedding, you might be a redneck!

Well,… that is all it takes for me to get thinking… I knew right then and there that it was a blog waiting to happen. Not the redneck part though… the “you might be” part. So for those of you that were hoping to hear about how pretty the dogwood were in South Carolina or how the morning dew glistened on the 1st Tee, will just have to wait for another blog.

This blog is call “You might be a Lezbakistanian. “ Yes dear friends, Lezbakistanian, not just lesbians. Lesbian is too general, too undefined. Lesbakistan is a country Pedro likes to call “our people”. It is loosely defined as the womyn we know… and friends of the womyn we know… and some relatives, and some neighbors, while others might be more comfortable with the term honorary Lezbakistanian. I could try to define or describe us more but I will let the blog do it for me.

• If you know how Pedro got her name… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you have ever worn a feather boa golfing… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you can name all three queens... you might be...
• If you have seen a certain County Commissioner in drag… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• If you are a Z-Ho… you are a Lezbakistanian.
• If you played dirty Santa and the top “prize” of the night is a tie between a Home Depot gift card and Ms Claus T-back panties… you might be a Lezbakistanian.
• Hell… If you earned a toaster oven in Orlando “before the new millennium”… you might be a Lezbakistanian.

I could go on but I am sure some of you may have your own to share. Please feel free to add them to the comment section below or send them to me for future blog consideration.

Peace, Luv, and Marshmella Biscuitte w/2 tt’s,

barbie

A Circuitous Path through Georgia

On our way to the land of lobster… albeit a circuitous path… the destination for the summer season is Bar Harbor again this year. But the path in which many travel vicariously seems to be the one less traveled... or at least some of it.

The first stop Jekyll Island. This is a familiar stop and one well traveled… at least for us. It is our stop in which we “get fixin’, to get ready, to go.” Translation to Yankee: it is the place we go to get our minds and our rig back on the road. And of course do a little golfing. This year was no exception and we also got to witness Heather’s maiden solo voyage with her camper with Grandma in tow for moral support. You go girl! For those that have not been to JI, it is one of Georgia’s best kept secrets to get away from the crowds with ample options of fun or just chilling. It really is all good.

From there, we decided to head up into the GA hills and try another state park. We heard tell of a number of parks that have golf courses called “state resort parks” and we went off to find one. Hard Labor Park east of Atlanta and south of Athens is where we ended up. It is pretty spectacular.

Rv people notes: Water and Electric the sites are beautiful, level, and easy to get in. There are some pull thrus for those that need them but the better sites are deeper into the park and are back-in’s. Dump available. Good showers and bathrooms.

The rest of the notes: Cell service, Wi-Fi, and TV are a few miles up the road in a quaint town of Madison. The café / diner have a wonderful breakfast and is well worth venturing out to one morning. There are lakes throughout the park, 26 miles of hiking and equestrian trails. I was also surprised to find that there were campsites with the horse stables. Very cool.

The golf on the other hand is promising. The golf pro promised us birdies. We saw plenty… just not on our scorecard. For those of us used to the flat lands of Florida, the hills were challenging but great fun. We play two balls off and on the entire 18 because during the week it was not busy. And the azaleas and dogwoods blooming fulfilled the nature lover in me.

As for the name, Hard Labor State Park. My imagination conjured up visions of chain gangs and a voice in my head is saying “what we have here is a failure to communicate”… both would be my imagination at work. The truth is that it got its name by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s when they built a variety of parks in Georgia and it was the place where they hewn the trees which was “hard labor”.

So while the name is not enticing the beauty of the park is… and we’ll be back.

Peace Love and Georgia, barbie

march, marCH, MARCH!!!

At first I wasn’t sure how to feel about this Equality March in DC. I’ve done quite of few protests for various causes including Gay Rights, Women’s Rights, Lesbian Rights, Reproductive Rights, AIDS/HIV Health, blah, blah, blah… I’ve gotten a little apathetic, a little cynical, a little out of shape. My Marching muscles (both physical and mental) needed a boot camp or at least a pep rally.

Walking through DuPont Circle district on Saturday was it. Not because we walked for about a gazillion miles nor because the streets were strewn with rainbow flags or because my gaydar was beeping non-stop. The shot in my arm was that is was none of this. The shot in the arm was the normalness of the scene. The streets were filled with tourist, window shoppers, and friends laughing at cafe tables. You had to look closer to see that it was a predominantly gay crowd. This is what normal life looks like for all of us, gay or straight. We have come so far…

The next day at the March it was very much the same. Oh there were signs, and chants, and cheers for all the colorful queers… but for the most part gone were the Drag Queens, gone were Chap clad boy toys, and the radical spike dykes beating drums from previous Marches. We didn’t need those to get noticed. We are not just a fringe community with a few that feel brave enough to show our faces… we are mainstream! We are your neighbors, your bank teller, your grocer’, your pharmacist, and postal workers, all marching without the fear. We are the baby boomer survivors refusing to give up struggle… and we are the students that have picked up the torch and assumed the struggle.

One neo-nuclear family mom pushing a stroller said to me that she was marching in hopes that “her daughter would not inherit the struggle.”

The signs over head say it many ways but the message was singular. EQUALITY… EQUALITY… EQUALITY…!

And if a picture is worth a thousand words… here are a whole bunch for you. click here for my slideshow or click here for individual photos

Peace, Luv, and Equality for All, barbie

Drive By Fall

Fall arrives early in New England. As we readied for our departure from Mt Desert Isle, fall showed up. It’s like the curtain went up for the third act and the scenery change was a shock. It should not have been… if the soggy first act “Spring”had not been foreboding enough, then surely the every so brief appearance of Summer in the second should have been all the warning we needed. But not us, our oblivion we complete as we were too swept up with the story to notice the back drop. So here we are, with (for now) the best seat in the house/country and the pictures to prove it… albeit from the rig and its balcony view.

Enjoy.

PS. The encore of pictures is Portland, Maine which we found to be an amusing town as well as the home of Longfellow.

Peace, Luv, and Crimson Colors, barbie

Photo link: http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=jmoofKTU3eXcxVQhPr9H8&_=1

Exploring more of Acadia: Schoodic Point

Schoodic Point is part of the Acadia National Park… probably 10 min’s by boat 40 min’s by car. I’ve have pretty much ignored it thus far. There has definitely been enough to keep my attention here on the “mainland” of Acadia.

Which is what I heard a Ranger call it… which makes no sense since the “mainland” is an island where the bulk of the donated Acadia lands are concentrated. The remainder of what is not the “mainland of Acadia” or the islands of Acadia is actually on the mainland… primarily on Schoodic peninsula and a few islands dotted off the coast. Confusing I know.. anyway…

My bro-in-law gave me a book, (which until now) I had forgotten about. Now I am curious to unwrap some of the history that makes the Schoodic peninsula unique. Of course the day we tooled down the Schoodic – The National Scenic Byway, it was pretty much fogged in. I am beginning to think that the fog is a plot... a master Mainer plot to limit the tourist from the outer reaches, thus keeping it protected and safe. The misty Sheppard herds the masses back to Bar Harbor where they are fed lobster rolls and sold Down east trinkets and t- shirts. Only the persistent traveler (and those with days to wait) are rewarded for their patience with glimpses of her coastline. Today was now our day.

But I am not one to be deterred… I find other things to look at. What ended up catching my attention were a few old edifices and some mid-century signage. Route 1 from Hancock, Sullivan and all the various Gouldsboro kept my attention… making mental notes of places to stop for photos on the return trip. Prior to entering the official Acadia Park, we passed thru the town of Winter Harbor. Once a hob-knobby spot now a well worn working harbor and front porch artisans. Our intention was to stop for lunch as either Chase’s or the Fisherman’s Inn (both recommended by a local) but the fried fare was not what we were looking for and mostly what they were serving.

We moved on to the one-way park loop of Schoodic. It was serene and peaceful although limited in the scenic scope as I mentioned earlier, we enjoyed it none the less. We also found a small primitive campground that is limited to single overnights that would be a tenter’s paradise. Each of the 10 sites has a well banked campfire pit overlooking the bay, no electricity. The parking, fresh water, and the flushing commodes are far enough away to keep it quiet.

The remainder of the loop road ribbons its way the length of the coast with a watery view popping out of the mist occasionally… very occasionally. We found ourselves heading back up the other side of the peninsula and Prospect Harbor. Once again limited for desirable food options, we pressed onward to Route 1 for the return trip. Lucky for us, one of the mental notes Ruth had made was a Mexican Restaurant in a log cabin on Rt 1.

(It is interesting to observe that Ruth’s mental notes almost always encompass food or golf while mine often focus on architecture and wildlife… all in all, a find complement to one another I would think… although hers are much handier)

Happily we found it and it was called “The Mexican Restaurant” (go figure) run by an Honduran woman. The food was excellent and had a few Central America influences for those that are a bit adventurous such as: Honduran Tamale with fish and peas in banana leaves and Hurachita a rice based drink that was pleasant but a bit too sweet. In the end our main entrée was a quesadilla of chicken and cheese accompanied by beans and rice… all very yummy!

The remainder of our outing was filled with retracing our steps to capture previously noted photo opts golf course called Bonnie Blink. All in all a good day.

Photos:http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=PLUtcUJodOv2KyD0oOgdA&_=1

Peace, Luv, and New England Tamales,  barbie

Maine Show Off Its Beauty

It was one beautiful day upon Pedro and Mel’s arrival. They could not have picked a better day to arrive on the island. Low 80’s, sunshine, slight breeze… just Beautiful!

They had to take it all in quick cuz around here just as suddenly as summer arrives… it can slips away. Kinda like slipping away in the night Like the Van Trapps’ pushing the car down the driveway to escape over the Alps… Headlights pierce the chilly night… the gastopo (Pedro) was here to stopo summer from disappearing before we could get a good week of gallivant among the floral/fauna and then it was “So Long, Farewell, Aufwiedersehn, Adeiu”

Well before the leaves fall, I should say a few words about their visit. Insanely busy! Pretty much from the moment they arrived until the frantic moment they left… and that is another crazy story… but I digress. I’ll get back to that later.

These two were hiking fools. Not that I blame them… there are so many great hikes of all levels in Acadia that this truly in a hiker’s paradise. They started with the dome of Cadillac Mt the afternoon they got here, Jordan’s Pond Loop the next day, then a non-specific carriage trail (they have no idea where they where… just happy to find the car), followed by the Sand Beach stretch and up Gorham Mountain, and finished with a morning climb to the Beach/Canadian Cliffs. That’s 5 out of 6 days. Not to mention they golfed twice, toured Acadia by car, a carriage ride, a lighthouse tour via the water ways, dinner and lunch in Bar Harbor, ample shopping, a few campfires, a cribbage tournament, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree! I don’t think I wouldn’t have to try very hard to get the twelve days of Xmas… Oh that might be scarey… the twelve days of Pedro? No, I won’t go there.

I saved the best for last of course… There could be no visit without at least one calamity… we are talking Carlette here! The morning of their departure, we are buzzing around the rig having a leisurely breakfast of banana nut pancakes and Vermont syrup while the girls are packing and showering. It was a buzz but a slow buzz. Plenty of time… Carlette asks Ruth to check on her plane to see if it is on time etc… When Ruth notices that the time was about 30 minutes earlier than what Carlette has been saying all week. Suddenly our pace went from la te da to a frantic get in the fr@%king car pace!

To make matters worse, there is heavy construction on the first half of the 44 miles to the airport. I am driving as fast as I dare, with Carlette asking me to floor it. I am making senseless conversation… anything to get Carlette’s brain on a different track. All while I was trying not to kill the little construction dudes with the flippin’ slow signs on the side of the road. In the end, a ride that should have taken us 60 minutes lasted 90… actually 89. Pedro leaps from the car and runs in to “check in” with literally one minute to spare. We arrived at 12:44 for a 1:15 flight. Way too close!. As they are whisked away to board the plane I waved a fond “So Long, Farewell, Aufwiedersehn, Adieu".

So there you have it… summer and Pedro arrived in their own good time, scurried around for a while, and without a moments to spare disappeared.

Soon we to will migrate, but not until the leaves start to burst with color… Alas, that is another blog and until then…

For a better look at the photos and captions click here: http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=pJmofCEp44u3FcjvL31cd&_=1

Peace, luv, and mountain trails, barbie

Who's Who on the Rock

There have been a few famous people that have lived or I should say “summered” on the island over the years. Rockefellers, Fords, JP Morgan, the Vanderbilts, Astor’s, President Taft, L.L.Bean, John Travolta, E.B White, Dan Folgelberg, and currently the reigning queen of all “Good Things, Martha Stewart. She is the topic of much fodder here on the island… that is… fonder among the not so rich and not so famous DownEast locals.

• But only when pressed, most often they would prefer to ignore her existence all together, just as they have other celebrities throughout the centuries. (Mainers as I may have mentioned before are quite tight lipped.)

• It amazes me that Mainers think nothing of strolling through one of the premier National Parks created by their land donations without once letting a notable name pass their lips. Unless perhaps, if a helicopter should fly a wee bit low over a certain seal swimming harbor in route to the jetport. Then perhaps you might hear, “Mable said her ankle bracelet keeps her limited to the old cottage”

• Translation: At least Martha keeps her ass on the estate and doesn’t wonder through the park anymore.

• Mainer’s will also staunchly defend tradition... even when it makes no sense.

• For example: Mable’s family has been employed at the “cottage” and its adjoining acreage for generations. Once owned by the Fords, each fall Uncle Cliff shovels the pink granite gravel from the carriage way and stores it in the garage for the winter. This may sound ludicrous or at least a typical sample of Martha’s vulgar opulence. Not so says Mable, storing the driveway in garage has been done forever… not shoveling it would be ludicrous.

• But that’s not what I intended to talk about in this blog. It was the architecture… more specifically the architecture of the afore mentioned rich and famous. We took a tour of the Lighthouses surrounding the island but I was way more interested in the cottages... a euphemism for mansions. I loved how each home is strategically hidden from view from anywhere on the island. Rockefeller started this tradition when he built his home and the horse carriage trails… as to not spoil what nature had perfected.

• But on our boat tour all/each is revealed… uniquely styled to take advantage of its uniquely gorgeous granite perch. I would love to give you a narration along with the pictorial tour but truthfully I can’t remember which is which. Suffice to say there are a couple Rockefeller’s, an Astor, a few Ford’s and Martha’s etc, etc, etc…

• Enjoy!
• Oh yeah, a few lighthouses too.
• Here's the link to the photos http://picasaweb.google.com/wanda.climbs.the.shenandoah/RichUp2?feat=directlink

Peace, Luv, and Little Pink Pebbles,

barbie

Mount Desert Island, what's in a name?

Mount Desert Island… doesn’t sound inviting does it? I think it needs a name make over… It would be easy … just slip an extra S in there. Who wouldn’t go to a place called Mount Dessert Island? The visions of cupcakes, and bunt cakes, makes the idea not half-baked. Although here it would be more appropriate to line the street with popovers, pies, and ice-cream stands. All three of which are well established and/or plentiful on the island. I’m sure I’m not the first to suggest this, nor will I be the last. But Mainers’ will do what Mainers do… just smile and go about their business of not letting anyone into their business. And if that doesn’t work and you are still going on about your ideas they will fix it with what they fix everything… a short little piece of duct tape strategically placed should do the trick. I’m not kidding. It seems to be the running joke… they have whole books on the subject and I could probably write a whole blog on it but that would be called plagiarism. I couldn’t imagine half the uses/jokes Mainer’s have come up with for this universal fix-all. And with that you realize Mainers have more in common with red-necks than you would think… but that’s an entirely different blog. Lol.

So where do I go from here? Ahhh yes, Adah came to visit last week. It was a great visit and what was particularly fun for me was to see Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park through her eyes. She worked here for a season about 15 years ago. It was surprising to me how little has changed. Sure… a restaurant here or a shop there but for the most part the island has remained as she remembered it. That was very cool! There are not many places you can say that about.




This is not to say Bar Harbor is backwards or old fashioned in their ideas. As a vacation destination, it has progressed with the times. The Lobster Pounds take credit cards now, Internet cafes have infiltrated Cottage St, and campgrounds now have more RV sites than tent sites all without ruining the island experience. Just recently they successfully defended a referendum that would have allowed big “box” stores. It is really nice to know that the future of the quaint and overpriced shops in town will be here for the next generations. Seriously though, it’s a good thing because just a few miles off the island you can find Wal-Mart, Home Depot, Lowes, and a variety other 10K+ square ft stores and I suppose keeping the balance of box vs. non box / on shore vs. off shore keeps the balance of a healthy tourist economy for both.





But I digress… during Adah’s visit we finally took a drive around the entire “park loop” of Acadia. Her narrative was priceless as we maneuvered the cliffs overlooking Seal Harbor, Thunder Hole, Cadillac Mountain, and so on… I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. One thing you will notice is that it was wet, foggy, and chilly. Where is my summer? Rumor has it this is the wettest June since ever! And we are averaging 10 degrees under the norm… aside from that… it is fabulous here! Lol.

And someday the weather will be nice enough to see more than the entrances to the hike trails and carriage roads… but until then the best I can do are the do’s and don’ts of the local fare:

• Galyn’s for lunch on Main St, Bar Harbor – Do
• Town Hill Market for Pizza – Don’t
• Jordan’s Pond House in Acadia for just about anything – Do
• 2 Cats for breakfast, Bar Harbor – Do Do Do
• Ruth & Wimpy’s Kitchen, Hancock - local greasy spoon… if you must… then – Do
• Thirsty Whale, Bar Harbor – lobster rolls and local banter – Do
• China Hill, Trenton – the obligatory Chinese joint in Ellsworth – Don’t ever
• Mainly Meat and Atlantic Brewery, Town Hill for the obvious - Do

Peace, Love, and Tasty Rain Drops, barbie

I almost forgot... Sign of the Day: I was thinking... Why is that Frisbee getting so Big, and then it hit me!

Link to more pictures: http://my.inbox.com/photos/brv?CAID=b57bf1sBf7Tf82gY1MjF5&_=1