 In celebration of this, the 25th issue of The Bollard, we bring you 25 Ideas for a Greater Greater Portland. This biennial feature — inspired by the “25 Ideas for a Better Portland” our pal Al Diamon used to write in the Casco Bay Weekly days — started with 10 ideas in 2006, when The Bollard was available exclusively online. In 2008, when this publication came out quarterly, the Spring issue had 20 ideas. |
Sadly, none of those 30 ideas has become reality. The closest we’ve come to influencing city policy was when we suggested in ’06 that Portland hire Shaft to be the next police chief. We now have a black chief from an area
near Hollywood, but his press conferences are not preceded by funky theme music (yet).
This year, I asked four of our veteran contributors to join me in compiling the list: columnists Elizabeth Peavey and Crash Barry, comic artist Patrick Corrigan, and former Bollard art director and Cheery Monologues columnist Sean Wilkinson (pinch hitting for cocktail correspondent John Myers, who was impaled by a tiny plastic sword shortly before press time). Thus, each set of five ideas has a distinct flavor. Wilkinson’s taste like gin, Barry’s like dirt, Corrigan’s have the musk of psychedelic mushrooms, and Peavey’s taste like crap.
My five? Well, I’ll let you decide. Here they are …
— Chris Busby
Kick Albany’s ass
News that the managers of a hockey arena in Albany are trying to lure the Portland Pirates away from our fair city instigated a flurry of testy press releases from Susan Collins and Olympia Snowe, who objected to New York Sen. Chuck Schumer’s encouragement of such a move. How childish and silly! In the world of professional hockey, when someone makes you angry, the adults settle the matter with violence, not words. If you want the Pirates to stay, drive to Albany and start punching people in the face. That’ll settle everything.
The Courtroom
Chef Harding Lee Smith — proprietor of The Front Room, The Grill Room and The Corner Room — is being sued by workers who claim he violated labor laws and owes them back pay. The confrontation turned absurd in January when a contractor living above The Front Room who’s also worked for Smith sprayed protesters (and a cop) with fox urine. He was charged with multiple counts of assault (all but one of which have been dropped, though the MCLU may bring a civil rights suit on the fox’s behalf).
Inspired by these events, Smith is rumored to be planning a fourth Portland restaurant: The Courtroom. We look forward to such mouthwatering offerings as corned beef hash with poached tips, the Upton Sinclair (processed meats, migrant-picked veggies, and misery, on fresh-baked focaccia), and, for brunch, The Fantastic Mr. Mimosa. (“Honey, is it me or is the orange juice in this drink a little too tangy?”)
Carbon positive radio
WCLZ keeps crowing about being Maine’s “only carbon neutral radio station.” Bully for them. Personally, I’m sick of feeling guilty about my fossil fuel addiction, and I know there are a lot of radio listeners who feel the same way.
We need a carbon positive radio station that recognizes all the wondrous things non-renewable resources bring to our lives, like heat, electricity, and vinyl records. The playlist should reflect this. WCO2 will broadcast an eclectic mix of music by local and national acts, with albums by Midnight Oil, Coal Chamber, Colepitz, Nat King Cole, Diesel Doug and The Long Haul Truckers, and Dinosaur Jr. on heavy rotation.
Don’t let The Sun go down
The columns of Portland Daily Sun editor Curtis Robinson must be preserved in earthquake-proof time capsules on acid-free paper for centuries to come so that, like the writings of Nostradamus, future generations can scrutinize these enigmatic texts for predictions of world-changing events to come — and maybe even figure out what the hell Robinson’s trying to say about our time.
The Old Port Dome
The City of Portland is seriously considering the idea of putting a glass canopy over Wharf Street to mute the volume of late-night revelry. To which I say: Why stop there? Let’s enclose the entire Old Port in a transparent dome, just like the town in that new Stephen King book. There’d be no snow, no rain and, of course, no smoking — thus eliminating the skateboard problem, too. Come fall, to give the leaf-peepers a more authentic experience, we can turn the thermostat down to “brisk.”
Five ideas by Elizabeth Peavey
Poop en croute
According to the national press, the most creative forces in Portland are in our restaurant kitchens. Well then, I have a challenge for them. Let’s put all those world-class chefs to work eliminating the otherworldly stink emanating from the sewerage treatment plant on the East End. I suggest covering the plant in a giant sheath of puff pastry. Think of it as Christo meets Crisco.
More balls
I will confess I am no fan of public art, especially when it is foisted upon us with taxpayer money. But I think the best thing that’s ever happened to Portland in winter (aside from free-oyster February at J’s) is Pandora LaCasse’s light sculptures — the balls, ovals, ovoids, and spindles illuminated for a few months each year in our public parks and squares and on a couple blocks of Congress and Commercial streets. Fire a couple bureaucrats and pick up my trash every other week if you must, but give us more balls.
And balanced rocks. The rock sculptures in the sand on the east side of Back Cove truly lift my heart each time I see them. Let’s can another city staffer and put this rock artist on the payroll.
Back Cove Veterans Memorial Bridge
Portland has an opportunity to take the mantra of “reduce, reuse and recycle” to another level. Rather than junking the soon-to-be-decommissioned Veterans Memorial Bridge, let’s transplant it over Back Cove. Think of all the time we could save those harried Baxter Boulevard matrons and North Deering and Woodfords foodies* if they could just shoot across the cove from the bottom of Vannah Avenue to Franklin Arterial. The Whole Foods-Standard Baking-Miccuci run could be made without being hampered by all those annoying turns and lights. As a bonus, a pedestrian path on the bridge would offer boulevard exercisers a figure-eight pattern, rather than all this running around in circles.
*Moratorium on the term foodie. I say we string up the next person who refers to Portland as a “foodie Mecca” and give ’em a dip-top at the poop plant.
Peaks Island Bunnel
Wouldn’t summer in Portland be more pleasant for everyone if the seasonal island interlopers weren’t pushing and shoving their way around town so they can make their ferry? While it can be entertaining to watch the “summer people” bumping and dragging their luggage, dogs, prams and wagons down Commercial Street seconds before the departure horn blows, it’s another thing if you find yourself in their path. A cross-bay tunnel running from the Eastern Prom to Peaks Island would allow these irksome vacationers to slow down, take a deep breath of Portland air, and think, Is that pastry I smell?
East Deering Ferry Service
Since the discontinuation of ferry service to Nova Scotia has left our $20 million Ocean Gateway terminal all but useless, I have a proposal: establish ferry service between East Deering and the Old Port. Commuters could board each morning at the B&M Bake-n-Brew ferry terminal and taproom and return there for a pot and a pint after work. The ferry would enter the bay through the railroad trestle, take a turn by the dough-enclosed sewerage treatment plant, chug past the scenic Eastern Prom and Narrow Gauge railroad line and into town. Think how traffic will be lightened on Tukeys Bridge, and how my property value will soar once everyone realizes East Deering is now to Portland what Sausalito is to San Francisco. Personally, I can’t wait for Howie’s Gastropub, Steve & Renee’s Brasserie, Chip’s Subaru and Lexus Center, Anania’s Trattoria and Botto’s Bistro. Let the gentrification begin!
Sean Wilkinson’s Five Cocktails for a Greater Greater Portland
The New Improved Burnt Trailer
Fat Ass in a Glass, Harbor Hog, Bitch Whiskey … We all know the powerful hold Allen’s Coffee Brandy has on the state of Maine. Yet here in Portland, we pride ourselves on our sophisticated taste, leaving Allen’s banished to the few wretched hives of scum and villainy still scattered around town. Bars trying to attract the respectable crowd refuse to stock the Brown Gold.
The thing is, we’ve only known this brandy one way — slogged into a pint glass with ice and Oakhurst. Very few of us discerning types have given it a good taste. The great Allen’s secret: it tastes good.
So I bring you the New Improved Burnt Trailer:
1oz Cream
3/4 oz Allen’s Coffee Brandy
3/4 oz Orange Curaçao
Shake in an iced cocktail shaker and strain into a cocktail glass. Lest we forget its pedestrian roots, garnish with a scratch ticket.
Crash Barry’s “Crazy” Applejack
When Armageddon inevitably comes crashing down on our heads, you’ll be happy you saved those back issues of The Bollard. Not only will they make great fire-starters, but you’ll find a wealth of information about surviving in a post-apocalyptic Portland. Like this snippet by Crash Barry I imagine you reading years from now while camped by the Deering Oaks pig pens…
“… You’ll need about five gallons of hard cider for my simple Applejack. (Use caution if you store the cider near your mantraps, as I do. Falling into a nine-foot pit will ruin your day.) Dump the cider into a bucket and leave it in a place where it will freeze, but be sure it’s well hidden from the asteroid-borne monkey-men. Each night, scrape the ice off the surface and leave it for the alpacas (they love this). When no more ice will form, you’ve eliminated enough water to bring the Applejack to about 60–80 proof, depending on the temperature …”
To showcase the Applejack, I suggest a favorite of mine, The Swafford:
1 oz Applejack
1 oz rye whiskey
1/2 oz maraschino liqueur
1/2 oz Chartreuse
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with venison jerky.
The Fantastic Mr. Fox Trot
While some brunch-goers at The Courtroom may be content with a simple urine-spiked mimosa, others prefer a little more antagonism with our eggs. Still citrusy, but with a backbone of rum, I give you the Fox Trot:
1/2 oz lemon juice
1 1/2 oz light rum
1/2 oz orange Curaçao
Shake with ice and strain. Cut a swath of orange peel and warm it with a lighter for two seconds. Then, holding it next to the drink, squeeze smartly, sending the oils of the peel through the lighter flame. (Optional: Scream “GET OFF MY PROPERTY!” while spritzing the drink with flaming orange goodness.)
Make a Better Negroni (The Brackett Street)
So we want to call ourselves Eatland? Well, some of us enjoy a quick trip to Drinkland, too. And while we have a few bars creating new cocktails and adding unconventional ingredients to drinks, we don’t have a lot of places to go for really good classic cocktails. Or, better yet, great new cocktails inspired by the classics.
Here’s one I recently “developed” (read: made an excuse to mix 15 times, tweaking the proportions only slightly). I had been enjoying a lot of Negronis, but came to feel that the Campari’s presence was a bit too heavy, especially when using good gin that I wanted to taste. So I settled on The Brackett Street version:
1/2 oz Campari
2 oz Plymouth Gin
1 oz sweet vermouth
2-4 dashes orange bitters (depending on the brand — 2 for Angostura, 4 for Fee Brothers)
Stir with ice in a mixing glass and strain into a cocktail glass. This one also gets the flaming-orange-peel treatment, but there’s no need to yell.
The Judo Butler Gibson
What to drink when you’re the lucky homeless person selected to stay the night in the glass-walled room Pat Corrigan has proposed for the library? I thought about this question for a while. Maybe a little too long. I spent four nights under Veterans Bridge and got cranked on Night Train Express until I saw my spirit guide. He was a giant onion. While I muttered to myself, my pungent spirit guide stirred something delightful in front of me. He handed it to me, and as I reached out to take the delicate glass, I noticed that my arm was clad in a rich fabric, a beautiful brocade smoking jacket. Then my spirit guide leapt into my cocktail, quickly shrinking to the size of a cocktail onion. Of course! I gave a knowing nod to my butler and sipped the aromatic Gibson.
3 oz gin (Maine’s own floral Back River Gin is an excellent choice)
1/2 – 3/4 oz vermouth
Stir with ice in a mixing glass and strain into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a cocktail onion.
