It’s like a metaphor for life or something

Traffic in downtown Lewiston is just bizarre right now, what with construction projects and road work happening on every other block. I particularly like the long stretch of Pine Street, where traffic barrels in the middle of the road provide no clue as to whether we should drive to the left of them or to the right. You see drivers going in both directions, frankly, but there are those who are just so stumped by this unexpected choice, they come to full stops, absolutely frozen by indecision. I tell you, I could write an academic paper on human psychology just by hanging out on Pine Street for a single afternoon. And I’d do just that if I wasn’t so busy weaving around traffic cones on my motorcycle all day.

A good time was had by all

Wanted to write something snarky about this year’s Balloon Festival, but no. The weather was good all three days, the wind softened enough to get the balloons off the ground most times and it seems like attendance might have been at an all-time high. A success by every metric! Even some putz stealing coin purses in holiday-themed pajamas couldn’t sour this year’s event. And while we’re on the topic, I wish I could be around in the lock-up when this guy has to explain to other inmates what he’s in for. Stealing purses while dressed like a cartoon character ain’t likely to give him Jesse James-level street cred.

Stink, stank, stunk

You know who should really be mad about that balloon festival heist? The real Grinch. When you get right down to it, OG Grinch was pretty talented when it came to property crimes. That dude cleaned out every house across an entire town and would have gotten away with it, too, if he hadn’t suffered from cardiac enlargement at the end of the job. Then some wannabe punk in Grinch jammies comes along and makes the whole Grinch persona look like a bumbling has-been. It’s infuriating! I’m enraged! But anyway, back to those traffic cones. They soothe me.

Robot trash haulers

I can’t say I’m crazy about this futuristic development in trash removal. I like to stand on the sidewalk some days. If I get too distracted at some point, is one of these mindless rigs going to pick me up by my belt loop and drop me in the hopper? Of course, looking at the bright side, I guess that’s free transportation right there.

I refuse … to get involved in this debate

Wait, do we say “trash” or “garbage” around these parts? And what about “rubbish?” How come no one uses that term anymore. I’ve always thought “rubbish” gives my spoiled meat, egg shells and bags of dirty cat litter a more dignified air.

Mark LaFlamme is an award-winning Sun Journal reporter and columnist. He’s covered the nighttime police beat since 1994, which is just grand because he doesn’t like getting out of bed before noon. He is the author of eight published novels and rides a dual sport motorcycle everywhere he goes. Unless it’s winter, in which case he just sulks a lot.