A good friend of mine who lives in Woodstock, Maine recently published a book called, “Deer Tails and Other Tales”. He had his first booksigning event this past weekend. An old family doctor recognized Sayward Lamb from an article in the Norway, Maine Advertiser-Democrat Newspaper.

Being that Sayward’s wife was Dr. Harper’s first patient and the same Dr. delivered on of Sayward and Cynthia’s boys, the retired doctor decided to go to West Paris and attend the book signing.

His journey was a typical one for Maine and after the fact sent the below email to another Woodstock resident, Nancy Willard. She in turn forwarded it to Sayward, who sent it to me. Phew! Here’s the email.

A Book Signing, and Only in Maine

I read in the local weeky paper, The Advertiser Democrat, that a former patient on mine was having a book signing. Many years ago, like 50 plus,I delivered one of his 3 children, and I know he and his family rather well. He has always been an avid hunter, and it was about his hunting experiences that he was having a book signing. The time and the place of the signing would be for 12 noon until 1 pm. Thereafter there was going to be an 80 th Anniversary of the local library. I felt that it was going to be a gala affair

My wife and I drove to the town library, There were flags and pennants all about but only 3 young boys play with the out-door decorations. They told me that activities would start at 1PM

I drove to the local grocery store to inquire as to where the book signing was ro be held. Alas, neither the clerk or the one customer there knew about the book signing. They suggested that I stop at the American Legion Home just up the street. We went to the building but no one was there. The next building looked like a building for meetings and exhibitions, but there was no identification or lettering on the building. I walked to and “tried the door”.and it was locked. With that, I decided that I would obtained a signed copy at some later time

Just as I open my car door to prepare to leave a pick-up truck with the author driving, and his wife riding “shotgun” arrived. She lowered the window and said, “Here we are, give us a minute”. As she unlocked the building door, the author parked his truck, and then he carried in a carton that contained books

Yes ,I was the first there to received a signed copy. I congratulated him on his efforts, and I gave my money to his wife. He said to me,” What shall I write”. I said, “Anything that you would like “. He wrote, my name with best wishes and the date. We were the only 3 in the building after the signing. I ask him ,” How many copies do you have printed”. His answer was a surprise. “Oh 50, and we might even order another 50″.

I have confidence that the book will sell, and he will need to order at least another 50. May he have success

Why just the other day Otis was walking down Main Street headed for the Town Common, when he met up with Gabby. Gabby had been in Mills’ Market hounding ole Roger hoping to get some dried-up leftover donuts from the month before.

Gabby moved outside the store and sat down on a milk create hungry and disgruntled that Roger refused to feed him mouldy donuts. Otis moved in a sat down next to him.

“I hate everything!” said Gabby. “I hate Andover. I hate this store. I hate that store. I hate Marston’s Garage, I hate the Common and I hate livin’!” he yelled.

“Oh, come on now, Gabby.” reasoned Otis. “Life is really pretty good. You’re just mad right now because you can’t have some old donuts.”

With that Gabby stood up and walked over to the side of the road where there were two temporary signs sticking in the ground. They were both campaign signs, one was for the re-election of Baldacci and the other was for the next wannabe governor, Woodcock. Gabby prompty gave each sign a kick good enough to have scored at least a 50-yard field goal in a football game.

“Hey, hey!” exclaimed Otis. “You can’t be doing none of that stuff. That’s against the law. Sheriff Lamontangue will come and haul you off to jail.”

“To hell with the sheriff!” cried Gabby. “He’s probably a stupid politician too.”

“Now, now! Don’t go dumping on Sheriff Lamontangue. He’s a good old boy liberal democrat not one of them stiff ole conservative republicans,” said Otis.

“You know what?” said Gabby. “I ain’t never knowd what the difference is between a liberal and a conservative anyways.”

“Well, that’s easy!” said Otis. “Let’s say you and I are sittin’ up on a milk crate at the boat landing at Richardson Lake. And let’s say we both looked up and saw a man 50 feet from shore drowning.”

“You better go save him, Otis!” yelled Gabby.

“No, no!” replied Otis. “This is where the liberal and the conservative come in. You see a conservative would go and git 25 feet of rope and toss it out into the water and tell the man to swim and get the end of the rope.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Gabby.

“But a liberal would get 50 feet of rope and throw it out to the drowning man. When he got hold of the end of the rope, the liberal would drop his end and go find someone else to help,” explained Otis.

“Sounds to me like them liberals and conservatives ain’t worth half of Virgil’s pile of manure, to me!” yelled Gabby.

“Ayuh, ayuh”