The weirdest occurrences bring back those memories of the midcoast press corps and their associates. We didn’t win any Pulitzers or any other awards during our few decades on the coast, but my God, didn’t we laugh.
This week’s Facebook delivered birthday announcements for Teacher Craig. TC was a big-time school administrator, well respected in his field. But he had seen the movie “Rocky” and wanted more out of life. Paul Benjamin had started boxing in the Rockland area, and organized a series of amateur bouts in the Rockland Rec Center. TC knew he was “bad” and signed up. If memory serves, it was the middle of winter and there was precious little to do on a weekend afternoon, except for ice fishing. Please.
So we all assembled at the Rec Center and were amazed to see a school administrator step into the ring. The place went wild when he was introduced. Boxing tradition demands that the participants touch gloves to start the fight. When TC offered his gloves, his opponent reached over them with a right cross and knocked TC flat, out on the canvas in the record time of .07 seconds. We were not a supportive crowd, ever. When TC appeared in Ye Olde Coffee Shoppe the next morning, Tom Shorey, the bard of Main Street, shook TC’s hand and said, “You were ahead on points.”
Naturally, one funny memory of the old gang stimulates others.
No one was funnier than Vermont Jon, who moved to the midcoast area just to keep us amused. If I remember correctly (doubtful), it was a beautiful summer night and the gang was celebrating life at our favorite watering hole, The Black Pearl. I, of course, was covering the Warren Zoning Board of Appeals or some equally spellbinding session of municipal government. It took forever to finish writing the story of the meeting and I was stuck at the BDN Main Street office. I heard the door open and saw Vermont Jon enter, sort of. He advised that I continue my work and avoid the Black Pearl. “Don’t go down there. It’s Pearl Harbor. I am the Arizona,” as he slid down the wall to the floor, where he stayed until the air raid warnings in his head stopped.
He was known as “Arizona” from that day forth.
Let’s call our third participant in the Midcoast Follies Chef David. Since David served us breakfast and lunch every single day (on the tab, naturally) he was an integral part of the midcoast fabric. I am not sure, but I think the event occurred at the Waterworks Restaurant, just off Main Street. David was an epicure, a gourmand and a big eater. There were a dozen people at the table when the waitress came to take our orders, starting with Chef David. He probably looked the hungriest. He quietly ordered the prime rib, the specialty of the house. The waitress quietly apologized and reported that the last prime rib dinner had just left the kitchen.
Chef David leapt to his feet and bellowed, “Prime rib for all my friends. On me.” Everybody got excited until the waitress repeated the status of prime rib for the night. That line, naturally, got repeated at every restaurant gathering for at least a few years
I don’t care who you are, you have to appreciate anyone who can think that fast.
It’s true that we didn’t make much money or garner any fame at all. But my God, didn’t we laugh. Someone should write a book.
Emmet Meara lives in Camden in blissful retirement after working as a reporter for the Bangor Daily News in Rockland for 30 years.