October 3, 2013--It Was My Party

Here's what we actually did yesterday--

We didn't see Blue Jasmine. We didn't go to Primo. Or for that matter Cafe Solo.

We did go out early to Chrissy's where I had two of the best croissants available outside Paris. I indulged in a double espresso with steamed milk on the side.

Then, surprising myself, I said, "Let's drive to Camden and after that stop in Rockport on the way home." It was 80 degrees out by the time we got there. While walking around, I noticed a small sign for a 'Doctor Margaret Zwerling'.

As there are very few of us, we went to her office and discovered we are related somehow since ancestors of ours came from the same Austrian village. Though she, unlike me, did not have any known horse thieves in her background. But she does have a brother Steve, actually Stephen.

Around the corner from her is Leslie Curtis Designs. We had read that they have nice wicker pieces and since we have been looking for new porch chairs we went in. It didn't hurt that she is a former wife of Tony Curtis and helped raise Jamie Lee. One of my favorites.  And, to boot, there are a couple of chairs we are considering.

At the Rite Aid drugstore, where we went for a bottle of water, Rona insisted on my buying a $2.00 scratch-off lottery ticket. In many ways I have been and continue to be a lucky boy, but that didn't carry over when it came to this. I'll keep the ticket as a souvenir and a reminder to invest my money more wisely.

We spent an hour sitting on a bench gazing out into lovely Rockport harbor. A Maine classic. We almost fell asleep in the sun but pushed on. To perk us up we stopped at a Dunkin Donut overlooking Rockland harbor. A bit more commercial but the pumpkin donut that we shared was a seasonal treat.

Rona kept asking what I wanted to do for dinner. "Maybe eat out," Is said. There are a couple of modest places still open and Rona seemed game for either.

But, as a backup, we went to a local farmer's market where we bought a couple of heirloom tomatoes and newly harvested tiny potatoes. Also, a couple of tree-ripened pears and a large handful of pole beans.

"All we need now are some New Harbor beef medallions from Reilly's," Rona said, "And we'll be ready to cook at home or go out. You're still have those options."

"We do have that wonderful Bordeaux," I reminded Rona, as if she needed reminding. "Maybe just drink that with some Weatherbird's bread and hand-churned Maine butter?"

"We'll see," she said.

"Just as long as we're done with dinner so we can watch Mary Tyler Moore."

"And Bob Newhart," Rona made sure to add.

So that's what we did--I roasted the potatoes with Rosemary straight from Rona's garden, steamed the beans, grilled the steak, sliced the heirlooms, and we managed to drink almost the entire bottle.

I watched MTM but feel asleep halfway through Newhart.

It was a perfect day.

October 2, 2013--It's My Party

"So what do you want to do for your birthday?"

It was Monday, two days before October 2nd and Rona wanted to be sure I wasn't being coy when I had said during the past few months that I'm not really into celebrating birthdays--mine--and that we should play it by ear.

"Maybe," I said, "closer to the time I'll come up with some place I'd like to go or do to make it a little special."

"Well, it is a special one considering the number."

"To tell you the truth, this one is feeling like any other. To quote my mother, 'Every day I wake up and feel good is my birthday.'"

"But your mother's more than 105 and it's easy to understand why she feels that way. On the other hand, I hope you're not into denial when you say you don't want to make a big fuss. Or a small fuss."

"I don't think I am."

"I know why you're saying that. In your case it's honest to admit you don't think you're in denial considering how you thought turning 60 was no big deal and then when that birthday came you had a version of a nervous breakdown."

"Fair enough. But we were in Beijing at the time and I believed I was more disoriented by that than by it being my 60th."

"So, what do you want to do? I can still arrange a dinner party for friends. We can go to Primo in Rockland. It's supposed to be the best restaurant in Maine. Or Solo Bistro in Bath. Friends say it's even better than Primo."

"I guess that's a possibility."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic."

"I'm really not. Enthusiastic. I mean, I'm thrilled to be alive and feel this good and to be married to you; but at the moment, I think I'd like to cook dinner for us and drink a whole bottle of a wonderful, very expensive Bordeaux. Then watch Mary Tyler Moore reruns."

"How about two-thirds of a bottle and also watch Bob Newhart?"

"It's a deal."

But then yesterday, the day before my birthday, we returned to the subject.

"You know," I said sheepishly, "I think maybe I would like to do something."

"Anything. Well, almost anything."

"Maybe let's see Blue Jasmine and then go out for a nice dinner."

"That sounds fine. Which theater and where do you want to have dinner?"

"In Rockland. I think they have an afternoon show and then we could go to Primo. We've been here five, six years and are sort of foodies but have never gone there."

"That sounds good. They say eating in the bar is the thing to do. But check the movie schedule because it changes so often."

I did and discovered that there was no show at all in Rockland. The film apparently played just on the weekend. "I suppose," I said, "there's not that much call for Woody Allen up here. But I think it's playing in our town, Damariscotta, at the Lincoln Theater. At 2:00 and 7:00. Depending on the show we go to, we can go to King Eider's for an early dinner either before or after the movie."

"You'd better check that too."

I did and, amazingly, the film appeared to be scheduled at both times.  "So, let's pencil it in. The 2:00 show."

"I think," Rona said, "let's also buy a Bordeaux. That will give us the option--if you change your mind--of having it if you decide you want to cook your own birthday dinner."

"No, I'm all set--movie in the afternoon and an early dinner at Eider's. Eating at that time will prepare us for early-bird dinners in Florida."

At that Rona rolled her eyes. "I know you by now and so let's get the wine. You say pencil in the 2:00 show, but it's at best 50-50 that we'll budge from the house."

"We can go to Portland if you'd like," I offered. "Or the Lake District. The leaves are changing and so it must be beautiful there."

"I'm sure it is, but since you're colorblind leaf-changing season frustrates you."

I shrugged and smiled. "You're right, let's get the wine. But what about Portland? I'm sure the film is playing there and there are so many good restaurants."

"That will mean staying overnight, which I doubt you'll want to do."

"True, true. So let's just stick to the plan."

"Which is?"


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It is now 6:00 AM, October 2nd and I am officially another year older. Or, as I prefer, another day older. We have the movie penciled in but just in case also have a wonderful bottle on hand of 2005 Cos d'Estournal. It did cost a fortune. But how often do you get to be as old as I?