One of my rules as a journalist was to report before the season. The stories about fishing in March and skiing in November seemed better to happen earlier rather than later in the seasons when people actually fished and skied.
But sometimes planning these stories was a challenge, especially with the unpredictable spring storms.
One of those early spring storms, in March 1995, had me heading to Baxter State Park. My planned story had been wiped out by the storm and I was going to tell a nearby snowmobile story that we'll call “Sledding in Baxter.”
Snowmobiling in Baxter was only allowed on the perimeter road, which was not groomed. This fit with the “eternally wild” nature of the park. The trail turned into bumps with sledders jumping like dolphins – not exactly like what you see in snowmobile commercials on TV.
That day it started to rain quite heavily. The combination of bumpy trails and wet snowmobile suits didn't exactly present the visuals I was hoping for in the segment I was trying to do.
In my mind, my two-minute story was down to thirty dollars when my pager went off.
Back in the day, you could send short messages with a beep. Today’s message was about “Call Home.”
A favorite Green family story is about my 25-pound third-grade daughter telling her teacher, “Daddy’s up north!” » She had no idea where I was, only that I wouldn't be home for a while and couldn't be contacted.
Astronaut Chris Cassidy's family always loved having him at home, but noted that the family functioned more easily without him. “It’s great that you’re home Dad, but don’t mind it.”
“Up North” isn't as cool as being in space or on a Ranger mission to Afghanistan, but for my kids, it was just as strange and far away a place as Dad was going and he wouldn't return for another year. one moment.
The “call home” text was concerning. It was an emergency. The family knew not to call Dad up North.
I took action. I retrieved the cell phone from the back of the car. I don't remember how it worked, except that it didn't. You went to the top of a mountain and after dialing the number, you shouted loudly into the speaker.
Cell service isn't really keeping up with “Forever Wild” and I had no signal. Plan B was to end filming and run to a phone booth in Millinocket, which seemed like a perfect end to a miserable day.
We went to the McDonald's in Millinocket.
Using my 20-digit credit card to make long distance calls, which was very fashionable at the time, I called home. My 8 year old son answered and asked if he could walk across the street to Jake's house.
“Where is Mom?” I answered.
“She’s down there and she won’t let me go,” he said.
A good father would have laughed and explained that if mom says no, that means no. I made my point and told Sam we'd talk more about why when we got home.
So, there I was, still in wet snowmobile pants with wet hair and my bad day even more ruined. We needed coffee.
One of my photographers once told me he had a new girlfriend. When another shooter was asked what she looked like, he joked, “She's kind of a gum chewer with thick hair.”
There, behind the counter at Mickey-D's, was an accomplished woman from the 1990s with whom my photographer would have been fascinated.
I am vain. I wanted this lady to be impressed that the TV guy was walking up to her counter.
I held out a bait and asked, in my best Tom Cruise voice, for a few coffees, to which she replied, “Eighty-four cents.”
Rather than shouting “Get the mud out of your ears!” » I politely said, “No, TWO coffees.”
To which she politely replied: “Senior discount.”
I was 41 years old.
My day had just gotten remarkably worse.
My first thought was to jump over the counter, bend her at the waist and kiss her, which reminds me of the famous sailor-nurse photo taken in Times Square at the end of World War II. (By the way, the sailor in white just left of center is Frances Cyr from Old Town.)
But rolling my stomach on the counter or catching a toe and landing in a pile of blood probably wouldn't be as gentle as I imagined, so I just said “thank you” and handed him a dollar.
The rain we received recently reminds me of that ill-fated trip 30 years ago. I miss “Up North” a lot, but things didn't always go as well as they seemed on TV.
Still, you'll never forget the first time you get a senior discount.
