The other day I wrote that Maine is “a place where words are redefined on a daily basis”, and then I gave a for instance for clarification and I used ‘Traffic’ and said that, here, “‘traffic’ is several boats jockeying for position as they pass by my front yard”.
And that, people, is the very first time I have quoted myself.
I’m totally famous.
But don’t worry because I will wait at least five minutes before I go outside to look for the private jet and oodles of riches and TMZ “reporters”.
So I was serious in that ‘Traffic’ here is the good kind and here is photographic proof of this:
Just hangin’ out in the driveway:
Sixteen year old driver, mom and dad in car:
Sixteen year old driver, first time without mom and dad in car:
Cruising around, looking for a space in the parking lot:
That triangle represents the end of the channel on the starboard side of the doohickey that you are operating on the third thursday of every month, except if it is a leap year, or if your name begins with the letter ‘y’. (No, I have no idea, even though I looked it up.).
See? So now you see why traffic in Maine is way better than traffic anywhere else (except for the triangle thingie because it’s scary and cannot be deciphered).
So I was thinking that maybe I misled you when I said that, in Maine, wordS (see that? plural… word-S) are redefined on a daily basis. Because what if the only word that is really redefined is ‘traffic’?
I know, right?
But then I realized that, the redefinition of words here really does happen all the time and I thought I would share another one with you today (and maybe more in the future so that I can keep my totally earned and justified fame (from quoting myself)).
So, above you have ‘traffic’, Maine-style.
And now I give you….
The bee on the flower?
Next in line for takeoff.
I have to head outside now.
My public is waiting.
Thanks for readin’.
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