Bangor, Maine is the last outpost of coffeeshops and hipster breweries before a whole lotta nothing, not counting unregulated maple syrup production.
And wherever there’s a “last outpost” of anything, there’re hippies.
And as much as I clown on hippies in this humble newsletter, it was fantastic seeing dreadlocked acid casualties writhing along side the typical Train/Goo Goo Dolls demographic in relative, if pungent, harmony.
Towards the end of a long tour, seeing folks in childlike love with music can be just enough to scrub away recent memories of acrid beef stroganoff and unwanted advances from middle-aged divorcees, emboldened by wine coolers.
I, for one, will be out there with them tonight, celebrating the absurdity of my chosen path.