Goodfellows52: Walking off and away from Trump

Goodfellows52: Walking off and away from Trump: "There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea...

Walking off and away from Trump

"There is pleasure in the pathless woods, there is rapture in the lonely shore, there is society where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not Man the less, but Nature more."

Lord Byron

LISBON, Maine — We needed to take a long walk in the woods after watching Donald Trump say nothing and loom over Hillary Rodham Clinton like a stalker in a dark alley in Sunday’s debate.

Civility was not on Sunday night’s agenda when the two competitors went head to head for 90 painful minutes. As a family, we are appalled that the man with his filthy mouth and lack of substance is still in the running for president.

I have no confidence in a presidential candidate who has no respect for the opposite sex and no concept of the greater good.

Yeah, I am a liberal democrat who will support Mrs. Clinton despite the email controversy.

Why? None of your damn business! Let’s just say you can’t reason with a narcissist — ever! After all, I am originally from from Massachusetts — and that’s Kennedy country.

Watch PBS' Frontline episode called "The Choice" and you will get the big picture of this horse race.

I voted once for a GOP candidate — and I still regret it. But this candidate might just tear apart the Republican Party with his senseless tirades.

While Republicans spent the weekend abandoning the Donald like passengers on the sinking Titanic, we decided to cleanse our souls of the exasperating Mr. Vile and drove to a place where the soothing waters  of the rambling Sabattus River washed away our disgust of a man who treats the Oval Office like a big joke.

My son was home for college and a long walk on the Paper Mill Trail was the right prescription to clear our heads of the traumatic experience of watching another round inanity from the overbearing GOP contender.

The Paper Mill Trail is our favorite haunt. It is paved, safe and the sound of the river’s waters can wipe away anxiety from stressed-out voters who experienced PTSD after Sunday's debate.

The walk is easy and the inclines give you a good workout. Right now, the colors of the foliage are brilliant on the trail and the stunning shades made the three off us feel pretty damn good on a chilly autumn day.

The cool air and the sweet sound of fast-moving water put a spring in our step on the trail where many other walkers had the same idea.

We felt refreshed after our two-mile walk in the sunshine and hopeful that the citizens of this nation will make an informed decision.

But then again, stranger things have happened in politics and some voters are easily swayed by a candidate's empty promises and antics.

Goodfellows52: A picture-perfect fair

Goodfellows52: A picture-perfect fair: CUMBLERLAND — It is a wonderful thing when you when make someone happy — especially if she is your wife. Last weekend, we went to ...

A picture-perfect fair

CUMBLERLAND — It is a wonderful thing when you when make someone happy — especially if she is your wife.

Last weekend, we went to an agricultural fair, which most Mainers do this time of year. 

It is a delightful ritual. What’s wrong with fresh air, smelly farm animals and food that is guaranteed to raise your cholesterol count to the point where your family doctor advises that you will be dead in 24 hours.

But I am not a native Mainer. I am a transplant from the Greater Boston area, who went to the Topsfield Field Fair every five years, which means I went twice as a boy. Hard-core Mainers would affectionally refer to me as a Masshole (that’s an asshole from Massachusetts). But I am OK with that and I am loved by all.

My wife is from Maine stock, a Windham  girl, if you will.

In the Pine Tree State, there are 24 fairs across Maine as summer wanes and autumn makes its chilly approach in September.

The Big One — Fryeburg Fair — draws thousands of visitors in search of fried dough, cotton candy, and a chance to bet on a horse. This harness raising not thoroughbreds.

We usually attend Cumberland Fair, which is just outside of Portland and about 40 minutes from our home.

It was a cloudy, raw day, but the smell of fries, sausages, and freshly baked pies, combined with carnies calling out to patrons to take a chance on their games, the absence of the sun didn’t get us down because we were in such a good mood. 

I was on a sugar high, anyway, after eating home-made maple fudge. It did melt in my mouth and I has this urge to wash it down with a quart of milk.

We played one game, and I managed to pick off two balloons on three tries with heavy darts, and Terri was awarded a plastic necklace.

After beating a carny at her own game and winning plastic jewelry, I was on a roll and my thoughts turned to the lottery.

We walked on when we saw a husband-and-wife team doing caricatures of fair goers.

My curiosity got the better of me and I persuaded my wife to have the artists draw my wife.

The artists tried to cajole me into a siting. I wasn’t shy, but I felt this was her moment in the sun.

Terri smiled as passerbys peaked in and watched as a pleasant man etched out the facial features of her face with a thick pencil.

When he was done, people nearly applauded the drawing. Terri was pleased and I was happy that she was happy.

She smiled all the way home as I sipped on apple cider and eyed another piece of maple fudge.