Patriots' Day is for....Moxie?

Patriots' Day is a New England holiday. To my way of thinking, it's always been about the traditional 11:00 AM Sox' game and of course, the Boston Marathon.

As for the actual holiday portion, I've been on both sides of the equation. Some years (depending on my employer), I had to work. Other years (like this year), I officially had the day off.

Actully, today was a working holiday. I took the opportunity to use my "free" day to gather more Moxie material, taking a trip to Bedford (near Manchester). What's in Manchester? Well Cornucopia Bottling (a division of Coca-Cola of Northern New England, whose parent is Kirin Beer of Japan), of course, the Bedford-based owner of the Moxie brand.

[Frank and I having fun during a recent photo shoot (GGoodman photo)]

Moxie's roots are in New England and that's where one is most likely to find the unique drink, fueled by the curative qualities of gentian root. When Moxie was acquired by Atlanta-based Monarch Beverages Company, many hard-core Moxie fans felt the brand was languishing and becoming harder to find, even in New England. Cornucopia's acquistion of Moxie has been viewed favorably, thus far, by Moxie people.

I met with Justin Conroy, Cornucopia's brand manager, in order to interview him about Cornucopia's decision to bring Moxie back home, to New England.

After meeting with Conroy, I headed across town to meet with Merrill Lewis, president of the New England Moxie Congress. The NEMC is the "fan club" of Moxie and according to their website, they are "a loosely-knit band of Moxie zealots and fellow travelers who collect Moxie-related memorabilia, promote the drink's availability, get together for parades and clambakes, and some who actually drink the stuff."

Merrill's a knowledgeable guy and a gracious host. He answered my questions and then brought me into his own Moxie "shrine" of collectibles.

[This is the House of Moxie, but we just know it as Kennebec's (GGoodman photo)]

When one writes research-driven books, like I do, the tendency is to become one with the material. Over a period of months, you begin to see how your research fits together. I suppose you could say you even become a bit "protective" of your subject and the people you get close to, during the course of your research.

A week before my own photo shoot at Kennebec Fruit Company, aka Kennebec's (to the locals), or "The House of Moxie" to Moxie true-believers, Down East Magazine sent a couple of filmmakers to visit with Frank Anicetti, Moxie's most endearing spokesman and the star of the annual Moxie Festival, in July.

I'm not a fan of Down East and I thought that the filmmakers, particularly Russell Kaye, came across as a bit condescending to Anicetti. Maybe that's my own bias at work. View the video and let me know what you think. Either way, you 'gotta love Frank! Also, no one that I know refers to Frank's as "The Moxie Museum." Please get it right (see above)! Oh, and the "dusty" quality of the place is part of its charm.

I've always felt that Down East tends to represent a mythology of Maine that does the state a disservice. Certainly, you can find writers/filmmakers and others that capture Maine realistically, not the "Maine is for tourists" way that Down East and others regularly and dishonestly (in my opinion) portray the state.

I'm on an unrealistic timeline to get Moxietown to press, but I think people are going to enjoy the finished product.

The writer's journey

Back in late 2003, I was working in the brand of corporate hell and “cube farm” that spawned Scott Adams’ Dilbert empire. During that period of darkness, I began to get serious about writing. Spurred on by Stephen King’s admonition in On Writing, to write, I took his advice literally. Who was I to argue with his success? If he said “write,” then write I would.

It’s been a slow, uphill slog. Like Sisyphus, pushing his rock up upwards, there have been times during the past five years that I thought the stone would turn and crush me. More times than I care to admit, I wanted to pack it in, lick my wounds and use terms that I hear a lot from those with a fraction of my output; “writer’s block,” or, “I’m struggling to locate my muse.” When you find her, let me know, ok?

Lo and behold, an adage my mother used to use on me—nothing worth having, comes without pain and sacrifice—has become one of my mantras.

When I’m up before dawn, while other “aspiring” writers are still sleeping soundly, or banging away at my laptop, long after the Red Sox radio post game is over, writing is a lonely pursuit.

Occasionally, I’ll be somewhere and a spark of recognition occurs; someone connects my name with my first book, When Towns Had Teams. It’s rare, but once in a great while, someone I meet has read the book and they’ll say really kind and thoughtful things, like “I read your book and loved it,” or the other day, I met someone in Maine that I’ve watched from afar; I’ve been given an opportunity to partner with this person and she happened to mention to her husband that she had met the author of “the baseball book” that he loved; she emailed me and mentioned that he was impressed. These are little things, but everyone craves respect and even a little recognition, now and again.

Forgive me for sounding so self-indulgent, but when you are a writer whose next book will never be a bestseller and will sell a couple thousand titles (if wildly successful), sometimes navel gazing is all you have at times.

Actually, I began this post to say that considering where I started, five years ago, I’ve made steady progress. I’m finally beginning to access the networks and the people that I wanted to connect with, but wasn’t ready, or proven enough to warrant their attention. All that seems to be changing, which brings me back to the recognition that I sometimes am too impatient; I need to be more cognizant that good things take time.

Yesterday afternoon, I met with a group of people that I used to daydream about sitting down with. Even more improbably, they were asking me questions, tapping the wisdom, knowledge and skills that only come experientially, if you pay attention along life's crooked journey.

Life is humbling at times. Some of us are late bloomers and take a circuitous route to where we want to go. During our sojourn, we face struggles and trials that test our mettle. But like silver's need to purge its dross, these tough times only reveal the purities inherent in who we are.

One of the advantages of pushing through the tough times and believing in yourself when only one or two others do, is that eventually, you arrive at a place where your experiences resonate with others, because you're not talking theory, but are plugged into some deeper truths.

My own experiences grant me credibility and a hearing with many of the people I work with. In turn, it helps them have a willingness to take the next step they need to in their lives, towards realizing their own unique potential. When they understand that I didn’t have it all figured out and that I wasn’t born with a silver spoon and special advantages, they connect with my transparency. When I ask them to be willing to take the challenge to struggle and persevere, these aren’t empty words. They’re truths forged in the various furnaces of my own life's experience.

Moxietown pix

[The Moxie Man and I, giving "the finger" (the "Moxie finger" that is]
[Moxie world h'quarters in Lisbon Falls, aka Moxietown"]
[No, please don't take my picture (dig that Moxie orange]

[Moxie window at Maine Art Glass Studio, Lisbon Falls]

Was in Lisbon Falls (aka Moxietown) a week ago, involved in a photo shoot, for the new book. These are some digital shots that my son took. I'll have some much better photos that were taken by a professional photographer that will probably be used for the cover, the book, as well as marketing materials.

Photos of Central/Western Maine

[The view from Route 27, in New Sharon]
[Creative spelling in Norridgewock]
[The economic realities of many in rural America]

One of the privileges of the work that I do, is being able to travel to the various communities I serve in Area III, outside of Lewiston/Auburn.

Each of the five counties that make up Central/Western Maine is so very different than the others. In Androscoggin, primarily because the twin cities of L-A (It’s Happening Here), optimism abounds. The economy is better here, than probably any other part of Maine, save the greater-Portland area. A case could be made, in fact that L-A has experienced the state’s most dynamic economic growth over the past five years.

Leaving my office in Lewiston and driving west to Rumford, Farmington, or Skowhegan, the economic challenges and the struggles of rural America to adapt to the changes in the 21st century economy become apparent.

[A Skowhegan landmark]

While some choose to highlight the negative aspects of our state, I still find reason to be optimistic, and I’m not a “glass half full kind of guy.” Maybe my optimism is fueled by the opportunity I have to meet people that care deeply about Maine and the communities they represent; the passion of a chamber director in Waterville, an economic development director in Somerset County, whose quiet confidence and unassuming ways have won the respect of the people he represents. In Rumford, a core group of people are doing their darndest to turn things around and root out those who care more about power, than the people, as well as counter the deliberately false reporting of the daily newspaper, by becoming the media. Maybe it’s nothing more than having the chance to walk around downtown Skowhegan and see the wonderful architecture, the ruggedness of the falls and then, having a few free minutes to visit the Margaret Chase Smith Library for the first time.

[A library visit to learn more about one of Maine's great people]

College professors, TV talking heads and NPR reporters can sound Maine’s death knell and paint a bleak future for our state, but I choose to believe that the special quality of people that don’t always make the evening news will be the ones that help turn things around.

Stories about Moxie

I am in the midst of a new book project that will be tied to Moxie, the soft drink. Like the first book, which tapped into the fondness people had for baseball from another era, this one will capture life in a small Maine town.

Since the town that I know best is my hometown of Lisbon Falls and Lisbon Falls is the epicenter of the Moxie universe at the moment (with its annual Moxie Festival, in July), what better way to entice readers than to blend aspects of Moxie, memoir and a little Maine history thrown in, to boot?

Moxie Matters: Life's Beginnings in a Small Maine Town will be out in full-length in September. I am also planning to release a commemorative, 25th anniversary book during Moxie Festival. This will include the first concise and semi-comprehensive history of all you'd ever want to know about Moxie, including for the first time, how Lisbon Falls got dragged into the Moxie vortex.

I am currently seeking stories about Moxie that might end up being included in a chapter that will gather the best of these. So far, I've already gotten some great stories/anecdotes about Moxie from a variety of Mainers (and a few outside of our fair state), with a couple being of the semi-famous variety.

If you have a worthwhile Moxie story that you'd like to share, please send it to moxiestories08 (at) yahoo (dot) com. I'm particularly interested in stories from people who don't live in Maine, but love Moxie all the same.

I look forward to reading them and choosing amidst the Moxie bounty.