Don’t Come to SeaCat’s Rest in Lamoine, ME

Vinnie B., rollin' stone

From time to time we like to feature guest bloggers. This is Vinnie B. from Tankbottom, New Jersey. His opinions are his own.

I gotta tell ya, dis place is awful. First of all, dis Lamoine is on d’way to nowheres. It’s a dead end. Nothing out dere but ocean and….Canada. The nice reassurin’ buzz of traffic and honkin’ horns is missin’. It’s too quiet. All dere is is d’sound of wind through d’pine needles and sometimes a gull call or eagle yell. Somehow d’air’s not right neither. Dere ain’t no diesel smoke or fryer fumes like back home. And speaking of fryers, fuggetabout yer favorite fast food joints. Oh sure, dere’s a few in Ellsworth but don’t expect a Steak and Shake or El Pollo Loco, and dey just shut down the Friendly’s! Borin’! And  dey ain’t got none in Lamoine or Bar Harbor!

a whole lotta nuthin'

In fact, d’locals eat dese big red spiders dey get out of d’ocean. And the proprietor digs in d’smelly mud for some kind of  mushy thing dat lives in a shell, and den cooks it in a hole in d’ground! Weird! Who wants to eat things dat don’t come from d’store? Dis is dangerous. And don’t get d’local beer! Ya can’t drink more’n four or five before you pass out.

And speakin’ of stores, there’s only one big box in town, Walmart. Unless you count Home Depot. How we suppose ta get stuff if we have ta shop in stores we ain’t never heard of? Suppose dey got only big red spiders instead of what we want? We want fish sticks, we get spiders!

Kinda rough...

And some of d’houses are kinda rough lookin’. And don’t nobody weed dere lawns? Just when I think a place is abandoned someone walks out d’door wit dere head held high, like dey was proud or sumpin’.

Da best part of d’trip was going ta Bar Harbor. Da long wait for a table at d’restaurant was almost like home. Lots of traffic too. Ahhhh! But why don’t dey put cell towers on all dese mountains? I couldn’t text from some places while I was drivin’. Outrageous! And d’water at Sand Beach is freezin’! Give me d’Jersey shore any day.

People here are strange. Dey wait a minute before dey say sumpin’ and den talk real slow with a funny accent. Dey try to mess with yer head, den you realize later dey was bein’ clever. Sayin’ things like, “I had to slow down just so’s I could hurry up,” and “ya can’t get there from here”. I think I know why Stephen King is from here. Everybody’s got dat wild Maine woods look. It creeps me out.

Stay away! Vegas is better. Florida’s good, especially Gatorland. Do yerself a favor. Maine is no place for normal dudes like us. Nature should be controlled, boxed up, like at Gatorland. Not out where you can see it, seepin’ into the local oddballs. Dat’s it! Maine is for oddballs. KnowhatI’msayin’?

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