DP: Maine, we noticed you waving your arms last week. Is there something you wanted to say?
MAINE: Yes, actually. I’ve been sitting over here by myself for quite a while now, and I thought maybe, you know, somebody could do something so we get in the news. You know, we’d make a good terrorist target.
DP: How so?
MAINE: It’s blueberry season. If something were to happen to the crop the implications would be felt at Denny’s and IHOPs from Coast to Coast.
DP: Do you really think people will notice?
MAINE: See, that’s the attitude that pisses me off. Yes, it would be a major crises if blueberry pancakes went off the menu at IHOP. I don’t even want to think about the crying children.
DP: I had no idea.
MAINE: Of course not. Take the weather. Now when a storm forms off South Carolina the press is all, “Oooh, this could be horrible! Go buy candles and big honkin’ containers of Beefaroni.” But by the time the storm gets all the way to me, the weather people are off talking about something else. As if I don’t matter. As if I don’t have feelings.
DP: I’m sorry.
MAINE: Go tell it to Good Morning America. And while you’re at it, tell ’em I’m big. I’m bigger than some of those little nobody states. I could crush and kill Delaware if I roll over in my sleep. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a little respect.
DP: So what’s next for you, Maine?
MAINE: Um. Well, I don’t really have anything lined up. Fishing maybe. Or, um, camping. Or both. I could do both.
DP: Thank you, Maine, for taking time out of your busy schedule to talk to us.
