I have a series of 17 photographs that arrived in my inbox the other day. The title said it was a Canadian National Railroad train stuck in the snow in Northern Maine. I think it looks like Northern Maine, I believe it looks like a CN train and I know that white stuff is snow.

For obvious reasons I didn’t post all the pictures on this page. Click this link and view the entire gallery of 17 photos.

Mainard True

Otis and Gabby decided several years ago to start up a business together. They called their new enterprise Otis and Gabby, LTD. You see several years ago Otis created the ultimate in gadgets. He called it the “SCATS”. It was a gimmick made completely out of alder bushes that was a Seat, a Cane, a Table and a Stool all in one – ala SCATS.

There was only one problem. They had about 300 of these things on hand and had yet to sell any of them. Otis of course was the “brains” behind the business and Gabby was the manual labor but in order to get the business up and running, both Otis and Gabby had to take out a loan at the Andover Savings and Loan, at the time managed by “Cash” Crumsley. Otis and Gabby were near defaulting on their loan.

One day a man from China appeared on Otis’ doorstep looking to do some business. Mr. Chow said he had heard about Otis’ SCATS product and was interested in buying out everything in stock along with the patent rights to the SCATS.

There was much wheeling and dealing until finally Otis, Gabby and Mr. Chow had reached an agreement. All the papers were signed and what seemed a sure thing began to turn south in a hurry. As Mr. Chow was getting ready to leave, he said to Otis, “This is a very big deal and I must get final approval from my boss back in Bejing. If you don’t hear from me in four days, you will know that the deal is approved.”

For four days Otis and Gabby paced, worried to death not daring to answer the phone thinking it might be “Cash” Crumsley wanting to collect his money. The hours, minutes and seconds ticked by and Otis was just about as nervous as a clam at low tide. Right then, a knock came on the door with a yell out, “Western Union”.

Otis fell out of his chair knowing it was bad news from China. Gabby, not really being a full deck of cards upstairs, ran to the door to answer it. He whirled around and yelled to Otis, “Good news! Your mother is dead!”

Mainard True

Saturday, as most of you know, I went with Milt on a photo shoot outing, etc. Lasted part of the morning and then it poured buckets the rest of the day. In short, it was a wash out.

Sunday, I got up early and drove to the Ft. Myers area and met up with a hometown buddy and we took in a spring training baseball game between the Minnesota Twins and Baltimore Orioles. Before you read on, I want to warn you that what I tell happens is gross and disgusting but somewhere in my sick sense of humor, I can only help but laugh. You may choose to read something else.

We got settled in to the game and seated to my right, perhaps a half dozen seats away, was the Fat family from Cellulite City. There was Mr. and Mrs. Fat and their two fat sons – one perhaps 6 and the other 8 or 9. Combined, the family could have tipped the scales at well over a half ton.

We arrived about 30 minutes before the scheduled first pitch of 1:05 p.m. and as we sat talking and laughing (no we weren’t drinking beer), it didn’t take long to realize that the Fat family had a groove worn into the steel bleachers leading directly to the snack stand. First it was hot dogs, then slushies, a round of Cokes, some popcorn and couple more hot dogs. Every time someone selling concessions moved anywhere in the stadium, up went a yell from someone in the Fat family.

At one point, I glanced over to see if these people were actually human and that’s when I noticed the Dad looked like he had a baseball for a head balancing on top of a huge pile of molten lava. If you were to look close enough, you would have noticed two Nike sneakers sticking out of the bottom of the lava rock.

Just when I didn’t think it possible for any normal person to ingest anything else, Momma Fat broke out the peanut butter and fluff sandwiches, bottles of pink Gatorade and passed each member a huge bag of Cracker Jacks, I suppose to add some variety to their Easter Sunday dinner.

The crowd had began to gather and there were few vacant seats around us. The presentation of the colors and the singing of the National Anthem followed and it was impossible to tell if any of them stood. They were as tall seated as standing but they did continue eating. Nothing was going to interfere with that.

Before we got through the first inning, the older of the two boys began coughing. I’m not sure which came first – the uncontrolled projectile vomiting all over the crowd which led to the coughing or the coughing started the event. Bright pink puke trickled down his chin, spattering and blending in with the assorted partly digested remnants of his stomach on the walkway between his feet.

What then to me became an unexplained phenomenon, nobody in the family seemed all that concerned. The younger bog was looking on as if to say, “Look at all the good food wasted.” Dad was busy trying to find the bottom of his bag of Cracker Jacks and Momma Fats was licking the fluff and peanut butter from her fingers.

Most people around them were appalled at the actions and lack of response. A lady sitting directly in front of them now had pink puke and assorted other goodies looking like an abstract work of art stuck to the back of her Baltimore Orioles commemorative t-shirt.

The coughing persisted and the boy became angry that he couldn’t eat more in between his puking and so looked at his mother in needy way. Finally, Momma Fats got up leading her two boys directly toward me. I scattered in panic and ran for the high ground seeking shelter behind the television cameraman perched in the highest location up behind us. I just knew that kid was going to paint some more art on hundreds of unsuspecting baseball fans.

I wondered aloud if they were headed for the snack bar to get a refund.

I returned to my seat looking around from drippings or any other signs a walking ball of vomit had bounced through my seating area. Once I determined the coast was clear, I moved to sit down and that’s when I noticed Daddy Fats had just finished his giant bag of Cracker Jacks and was slip-sliding through the pile of puke trying to get his hands on the three other bags abandoned by the runaway vomit machine, his brother and Momma Fats. It was at this point I began having visions of what the inside of their home must look like. I abandoned any more thoughts like that.

It was one of the most disgusting things I had seen in a long time. Now it looked a bit odd as this very fat man sat alone in the middle of the stands shoving food into his mouth without a care in the world.

I continued to make jokes with my friends as we waited to see what they would bring back with them from the snack bar. Oddly enough, they didn’t return and once Daddy Fats had finished all the food, he took a nap.

I guess he slept for 3 or 4 innings and when he awoke, he glanced around to see if there was any food he might have missed and seeing none, he left.

Needless to say, the thoughts I had prior to the game about a bowl of nachos and an ice cold drink, no longer existed. I watched the game.

Home now needing to sort through way too many emails and get back to work. While you wait for my next important news event to get posted, why don’t you go get something to eat.

Mainard True

Mainard True

Some think Otis is a fool but those of us who don’t think we are fools know that Otis is no fool…..I think! Otis is also a clever and conniving man and often thinks it a great pastime to pretend to be someone that he’s not.

What most residents of Andover don’t know about Otis is that he reads the newspapers everyday incessantly. He read about a man from Boston who had gotten in a bad car accident and had recently won a very lucrative settlement because of that accident.

The man was disfigured in the accident losing both of his ears, was very sensitive and self conscious about his loss but was determined to move on and make a better life for himself. Otis had read in the paper that this man was considering a move to Maine and wanted to open a computer business in Rumford and was looking for capable people to help him with his business.

Otis had an idea. He sent the man a phony resume and scheduled an interview. When Otis arrived for his interview, he noticed two other young, well dressed men ahead of him – assuming they too were there for the interview.

The first man entered the office for his interview and the earless man was quite impressed with the guy. At the conclusion of the meeting the man asked the young applicant if he noticed anything unusual about him. The young man replied, “Yeah, you don’t have any ears.”

Mr. Earless was quick to anger and escorted the young man to the door.

The second applicant entered and once again Mr. Earless was even more impressed with this applicant and at the conclusion of the interview asked the young man if there was anything unusual about him that he noticed. “Yeah, you don’t have any ears,” was his reply and was also tossed out the front door.

It was Otis’ turn. Entering the office he looked around and got a sense of what he was confronting. The interview went very well. You see, Otis is the master of deception, the ultimate in con. Mr. Earless was so impressed with Otis’ answers and his seemingly unbridled knowledge of just about any topic of conversation. He knew he wanted to hire Otis immediately but he couldn’t help himself. He asked Otis if he noticed anything about him.

“Yeah,” replied Otis. “I see you wear contact lenses!”

Mr. Earless was nearly blown over because Otis didn’t remark about his lack of ears and that he was so perceptive to notice that he indeed did wear contact lenses.

“I’m duly impressed!” said Mr. Earless. “Tell me how you could tell that I wore contact lenses.”

“That’s simple really,” answered Otis. “I figured that because you didn’t have any ears you couldn’t wear glasses.”

Mainard True

Mainard True

For any of you who have been listening to my Open Air With Tom Remington broadcast, know that I have been trying to get the audio to the new song, “The Obamaman Can”. Not only is it in audio but the producers of the Schnitt Show have put it to a video.

Tom Remington