Joanne and I are on vacation in New England. Today we are up here in a state that the natives lovingly refer to as New Hamster. Well, maybe not lovingly--perhaps tongue-in-cheekingly. But all the "Live Free or Die" Libertarians with hickory-hard bones and chiseled-granite jaws pronounce it Noo Ahmpsha.
This little state, not much bigger than an average-sized county in west Texas, is nestled between the White Mountains that it shares with its neighbor Maine to the east and the Green Mountains, shared with its neighbor Vermont to the west. Or as I (the only third-grader to ever flunk Sister Mary Agatha's geography class) like to put it: the Granite State is nestled between the Lobster State and the Maple Syrup State. Much more descriptive in a chamber of commerce sort of way, don't you think?
Having lived in flyover country all of our lives, Joanne and I wanted to spend some serious time up here rubbing elbows with these funny-talking new Englanders. It all boils down to the vowels. "A" in particular. If it is pronounced "ah", it usually indicates that the person is from the southern part of New England. I have often puzzled why New Englanders, especially Bostonians, talk about going to the potty so much. Is it all that chowda?
However if it is pronounced "ey" and is reserved as a sentence-ending suffix, you are probably talking to a Canuck, ey? We wanted to really get in touch with their culture, cuisine, and kitsch. To help us stay within our budget we did what every fixed-income, penurious (read: cheap) retiree does: We invited ourselves to her brother's lake home in central Noo Ahmpsha. We mooched off him for a month.
We ate and drank and pottied (it was the chowda!) our way across the region. Before we left, my doctor admonished me that my Guinness-World-Record-triglyceride levels would rise in direct proportion to the number of days we would spend in Maine. But I reassured him that I would counterbalance it with liberal amounts of antioxidants that are found in large concentrations in the local vinos.
As we toured about, Joanne (as she always does) purchased many picture postcards and wrote several every day to friends and family. As I sat at my brother-in-law's kitchen table every night, self-medicating and arguing with him about how bad the Patriots suck, she happily scribbled away about some mom-and-pop maple syrup stand or backwoods moose crossing.
We were midway through our third week of abusing my brother-in-law's hospitality when the idea hit me. My next get-rich-quick-and-join-the-one-percenters scheme. As she was scrawling away on that evening's pile of picture postcards, an entire business plan streamed into my head like some caffeine-riddled MBA student cramming all night for finals.
We are going to start Bill and Joanne's Picture Perfect Postcard Professional Services Inc.
Here's how it works:
Say you are on vacation (go ahead ... say it) at the beach, the mountains, or (shutter the thought) some amusement park in the Orlando area and just don't have the time to sit down and compose all of those dang picture postcards like Joanne does. So, you whip out the laptop or iPad and simply go online to PPP.com (that's us) and scroll through the piles and piles of picture postcards we will post there. Thousands of them. You simply click on the card or cards of your choice and Joanne will already have some inane little screed already scripted on the back. All you have to do is fill in the blanks:
Dear (Tom, Dick, or Harry), having a wonderful time. (hubby or wife's name) went (fishing, golfing, wine tasting, to the mall) today while I took and (kids' or dogs' names) to the (beach, hiking trails, the mall). Tomorrow we plan to see (Mount Rushmore, Lake Erie, the World's Biggest Ball of Twine). Wish you were (here, dead, not such a pain in the [you know]).
We will even Photoshop models dressed to look just like you onto the painted-scenery backdrops. But their faces will appear all bleary and foggy. Just like the hoodlums and their trailer-trash girlfriends on Cops.
The real beauty of our service is that you don't even need to waste all that time and actually go on vacation. You can just stay home and go to the office and keep working. Is this a great country or what?
But wait--there's more!
If you enter the promotional code word CHEESY, as an added bonus we will even send little souvenirs to your little friends. I have parked both of our cars, the pickup and my john boat on the curb in front of our neighbor's house and have stocked our garage with shelves of items that I ordered from some Chinese website. Everything from moose antlers to miniature Mount Rushmores. Just be sure to tell us which color of plastic you would prefer. Please include $14.95 for shipping and handling (c'mon ... I have to carry them to the mailbox).
The Obama administration's Director of Homeland Security was recently promoted to Director of Middle Class Vacations and his office estimates that nearly 321,729,113 Americans will take a vacation next year. (One family in Noo Ahmpsha is staying home to potty).
We only need one million of you to click and order.
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Bill Rausch is a freelance writer from Little Rock. Email him at williamrausch25@yahoo.com.
Editorial on 11/30/2015