Live Free (or Die in New Hampshire)



New Horizons for the Discovery Channel

Two months ago I packed up a U-Haul and moved from Boston to a small town in New Hampshire.

Hostile natives greeted me.

Up here, they call people from Massachusetts “massholes”.

Okay, so I don’t hunt or fish or own a snowmobile or an ATV.  And you’ll never convince me that car racing is a sport.

Live free or die?  I’ll cling to life under any circumstances.

But call me a masshole? Really?!

My doctor got me the video file of my colonoscopy.  I hacked into their cable.

Hope my new neighbors enjoy their visual voyage up this masshole’s canal.

Music: by my son Matt (screwed up by my inexperienced use of autoduck)

From Out of the Woods

Giving up the sophistication of city life when I relocated to this small rural community was an adjustment tolerably made but still I have the occasional moment.

As was the day a man emerged from the woods behind my house carrying a shovel and a half-full lumpy burlap bag dripping some sort of dark red goo that looked like burnt cranberry sauce.

I didn't say a word but my look must have questioned him.

He squinted, put on his best local friendly smirk and offered, "Hunting chipmunks, want some?"

"No thanks," I said, "I get mine at the grocery store." 

(music: "City Slickers" by Brian Boyko / curator: / Creative Commons Public Domain)

Cabin Fever

Ayuh, we get our fair share of snow up here. You can tell a lot about a person by how they handle it.

My neighbor down the road, I swear he tries to catch snowflakes before they hit the ground. Saw him out shoveling his whole yard one spring just so he could get to work on the lawn.


Me? I do nothing on account it’s gonna melt anyway.

Wife and I just don’t go anywhere in the wintertime. We stock up on food and keep the wood stove going full blast… ninety degrees in here.

Bears hibernate - we hibernate bare.

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