Color me in shades of gloom

If you’re having trouble accepting that summer is really over and that The Bleak Times are upon us, then gentlemen and womenfolk, I give you Monday, Sept. 28. This was a day so dark and dismal, I believe a new shade of gray was created just for the occasion. It was cold outside and it was rainy, but mostly it was that grim shade of gray that really brought forth the full power of seasonal depression. If asked to describe it, I’d say that Monday was the color inside a coffin just before the lid is closed, locking us inside infernal darkness forevermore. This color, Burial Gray, will be offered in the next release of Crayola crayons. Have fun with it!

Oversized load

Much ballyhoooed this week was the shipment of a massive boiler being transported from Jay to South Portland. The regions through which the load was traveling stopped just short of throwing parades to welcome the giant heap. Everyday Joes created expansive maps to reveal the load’s travels through the area, with predicted arrival times and reported sightings of the doohickey. I expect by the time this is done, someone will have named the big heap the way they name hurricanes and snowstorms in these times. Songs may be written about the load and sung in taverns across the land.

Oh, by the way, since the earlier portion of this rant, I’ve named the load “Newman” after Paul Newman and his excellent work in the movie “The Blob.”

The Mangler

This would have been a fine name for our beloved Oversize Load of Western Maine, too, since it bears at least a passing resemblance to the Stephen King story about a giant piece of laundry equipment that tears up its moorings and rumbles off to terrorize villagers. I dunno though, I feel like Paul Newman’s feelings might be hurt if I were to change the name at this juncture.

Gassed

Last week we talked about the fun of standing around a grocery store meat counter and listening to shoppers grumble about the price of meat. If you think that’s fun, open your ears the next time you’re putting gas in your car. New swear words are being invented every day at the gas pumps as the prices continue to reach eye-popping levels. I tell you, if we could find a way to run our cars and trucks on rage alone, we’d never need another drop of gas. Of course, that would put us in good moods and the rage would be gone, so … My plan still needs some work.

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.