Duke, We Mourn Thee

Hi from the Ramada Maine in Lewiston. As if driving from Vancouver to New York in June weren't enough, they've let me loose to roam Maine and New Brunswick for nine days. Driving up in hurricane fog was a pain in the ass, and the map I just purchased didn't note that 495 is now 95 and 95 is 295 and whatever was 295 is some other 95. Good thing the staff of the 24-hour Burger King at the GRAY SERVICE AREA in Gray, ME knew that. Actually, two of them seemed to only speak Swedish-English, and one actually knew where she was. Amazing. And a phantom cheeseburger has been burning a hole in my throat for about two hours now. Lewiston public TV informs us that Duke, the town's "beloved K-9" officer of five years, has passed on. A literal fog of sadness enshrouds this Ramada. The lounge--Dudley's--closes at midnight, but I have more than a little paperwork to do, so it looks like I won't be drinking myself to death tonight. Should have brought my trusty/fuckin' bottle of bourbon.