It Must Be Maine

Today's Globe brought a 4-page glossy brochure advertising the winter delights of Maine. (Its headline seems to me a severe come-down from "The Way Life Should Be.") "This winter, do more than vacation. Maine-cation," it exhorts. The state is neatly divided up into eight sections, with lots of pictures of snowmobiles and huskies and skiing and ice fishing and snowboarding, mercifully with only one picture each of moose, lobster and lighthouse. Each section has a blurb in travel-ese ("Enjoy thrilling winter fun"), an 800 number and a url. The blurb of the section I'm most familiar with, Mid-Coast, highlights the US Toboggan Championships (neglecting to mention that they were started as a joke, and remain mostly so), skiing with ocean views (the Camden Snow Bowl, not named), one of the region's world-class museums (must be the Farnsworth in Rockland, which is excellent but not quite world-class) and inviting historic inns (do they have to say "historic?"). I looked at the website (decent, not too hyped, a 5-minute video featuring almost all water scenes, in summer, naturally). I didn't dare call the 800 number, for fear of getting the Chamber of Commerce.

I don't mean to disparage the hype or the wholesomeness. God knows the state needs to suck every single tourist dollar out of Massaschusetts. And it's great to see the familiar beautiful breathtaking pictures, however hackneyed, in the attenuated thing that now passes for the Sunday paper. It's just that for me the bland words spoil the reverie, not to mention the crowds of people who in normal economic times fly to Florida but might now drive north "for a getaway that will warm your heart and leave you with memories that last a lifetime."

If they only knew.