Original, raw, real, everyone wants the full meal deal.
Heck super size it. Why not? To make it better than the real thing as Bono sings. Because people are hungry for what is missing. Crave being entertained too. And to always top whatever seemed the greatest at the time.
That leaves many wondering somehow, somewhere there must be better. More. Because just not good enough for long hangs around. Waiting for the Fat Lady to sing. Hitting the high note of whatever is missing in the grand finale to stop the craving. For now.
Unhappy people become bored the easiest.
You have to be grateful first before happy enters the room right?
Maybe Maine’s magic is she is not slick, not hyped, not pushing and shoving for show. Not just a clever assembly of buzz word metrics that happen to be trending at the moment. That the herd chases in a cloud of churned up cattle trail dust.
Maine, she is not a follower or a sheep.
That in an era of constant change to search for what is missing, she kept some black and white certainties. Like flour, sugar, rice, salt and pepper basics. To create a rich, fulfilling life in all this unspoiled natural space. We have more than we need to do that in Maine.
Her location sticking up like a thumb. Off in the upper right hand corner of the country, almost in Canada helps insulate Maine. Not retarding her progress, but preserving the basics.
Simple living is honest, beautiful, enriching.
And from the grumbling sounds of city dwellers, it is contagious, a delicious notion. Not found in high supply or at all in crowded landscapes of the concrete jungle.
So back to the copy of a copy that NIN recorded. Machined, the tracks layered like lasagna in a pan for the 375 degrees.
Waiting for it to bubble on top. Parked on that middle rack of the pre-heated oven. Stewing, simmering in a good way in its own juices tasty.
But still without hesitation marks, bits and pieces to bolt together for a new production. A copy of something that came before. With a dash of nutmeg, a twist of lemon. Whatever moves you wearing the white cooking apron.
Get away from the copy of a copy of copy and sample ME.
Refreshing, satisfying, one of a kind, genuine. Deep, not just skimming the surface or going through the motions. That is not good enough.
She grabs your heart strings by the hand full. Tugs playfully. And you don’t mind in the least as she whispers why don’t you cross that big green bridge to the south.