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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Mount Carmel Rest Area Dedication Ceremony, by State Historian Earle Shettleworth and State Rep. Bernard Ayotte, will take place Saturday, August 29 at the Picnic Site from 3 to 3:30 p.m.

After that, there will be a visual presentation at the Community Center from 4 to 4:45 p.m.

There will be a dinner following that, at the Community Center at 5 p.m. (Spaghetti Dinner is $2.50 per person.)

(“Le Journal” staff will not be able to attend, because its author has to work in Limestone from 2 to 8 p.m.)

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES –- The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met Aug. 18. Due to time constraints (i.e., the author has to get up at 6:30 a.m. tomorrow to work), this is a brief outline of events:

The selectmen decided that they will not give out house numbers, unless the property has a structure and a driveway.

The town leaders also discussed the recent delivery of road patching material. (It ended up costing about $2,600.)

Speaking of roads, the selectmen decided that the amount of dust created by driving 30 MPH on the dirt road of Doucette Road is not too great.

A town employee will also explore the cost of a new pickup truck. (The old one has a bad transmission.) GMAC is offering municipalities a deal under the “Cash for Clunkers” program.

The selectmen were informed that they can receive three books from the Maine Department of Transportation, entitled “Sensible Transportation Handbook,” for free. Additional copies cost $10. The town leaders will therefore order three free books and buy one additional book.

The town leaders also discussed the dedication of the former state rest area. It is now owned and maintained by the Greater Grand Isle Historical Society, after a recent title transfer. The dedication ceremony is scheduled for Saturday, Aug. 29 at 3 p.m. More information will be posted when "Le Journal" staff has time to type it up.

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LILLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A white helicopter flew over a field between southern Notre Dame Road and the St. John River on Aug. 17 around noon and 1 p.m.

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LILLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un hélicoptère blanc a survolé un champ entre le sud de la rue Notre Dame pis(1) le fleuve St-Jean. C’était le 17 août autour de midi pis 1h00.

GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen is expected to meet Tuesday, Aug. 18 at 6 p.m. An agenda is posted at a local popular eatery and at Town Hall.

GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Les selectmen de Grand Isle vont aouère(1) une séance le mardi 18 août à 6h00 du souère(2). On a affiché une affiche dans un dépanneur(3) local pis(4) au centre communautaire.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A white helicopter flew over downtown Lille on Aug. 5 at about 9:59 a.m. It flew towards the north.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un hélicoptère blanc a survolé le centre-ville de Lille le 5 août à autour de 9h59 du matin. Il a volé vers le nord.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

In the past, I liked to write about the presence of sheriffs and state troopers in town. (If the county and state governments are watching us, who is watching the county and state governments?) They are now too numerous to note.

If the sheriffs and troopers visit the town because of a small number of people committing repeat domestics, maybe a rich benefactor can pay them to move out of town? I am broke, but even I would donate $100 to pay some people to move to public housing in Keegan – or better yet to Canada.

My problem with a heightened police presence is this: Due to Murphy’s Law, the person who gets caught for speeding is usually a local who is going 10 MPH over the limit by accident. It will usually not be the out-of-towner who has utter contempt for the town’s speed limit who will drive 80 MPH through a 30 MPH zone.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met Aug. 4. Due to time constraints (i.e., the author has to work tomorrow), this is a very brief outline of events:

State Rep. Bernard Ayotte visited the board. Ayotte and the board discussed an upcoming dedication of the rest area at Mount Carmel. (The rest area used to belong to the state, but now it belongs to the Greater Grand Isle Historical Society.) Ayotte plans to contact the media and set up a time for the chairman of the state Historic Commission to make a dedication speech.

The board also approved payroll and expense warrants for July 31 and Aug. 6.

Selectman Matthew Burress discussed a recent visit that two selectmen made to Attorney Bob Bellefleur. They discussed what steps a town has to take to take over properties, if owners do not pay their tax bills.

The board also discussed an old policy, dating back to 2003, regarding paying water and sewer bills. When someone owes multiple bills for the same thing, a new payment is to be applied to the oldest bill.

The selectmen briefly went into executive session, over an agenda item involving certified letters.

If the board holds its next meeting next Wednesday, “Le Journal” staff will have to work from 3:30 to 11:30 p.m. somewhere else. There will therefore be no report for that meeting.

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This opinion column is devoted to some of the funny things I hear from customers as a call center worker in northern New England. This edition will cover the last six weeks. New additions will be made as new material becomes available later. To make this more readable, I will try to separate different entries with a "___". Warning: This column represents real life and adult language in this column is not sugared over. When you work in one of the world’s most stressful occupations where customers use you as a punching bag, you hear bad things and you think even worse things.

For background, a “rebuttal” is something that a telemarketer or a verifier says to a customer when he says that he is not interested. It is a reason to buy the policy.

In the context of this call center, a verifier is someone who speaks to a customer after a telemarketer talks to a customer. The job of the verifier is to make the sale legally binding. The verifier has to read the customer a script and get a “yes” in all the right places.

If someone is working “outbound,” it means the person is cold-calling the public directly. That is when someone is most likely to get insulted.

If someone is working “inbound,” that means the person is taking calls that the public are making into the call center.

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I was talking to a man on July 2, and I had almost closed the sale. A woman then came on the phone and said, “Asshole, he doesn’t want it!”

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I take a shower every morning. However, I might have forgotten to shower on July 10. A customer told me, “That’s a bunch of crap!”

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Talking about crap, another customer told me on July 11, “A $15 gas coupon isn’t worth all this bullshit.”

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I think I should pursue a career in politics. On July 17 a customer told me, “This is very manipulative. I don’t like this.”

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A North Carolina customer threatened to beat me up on July 23. He told me, “Hey jackass! Where do you live?” I answered, “Northern Maine.” The customer then asked me, “Are you on welfare?” I answered, “No.” The customer then asked me, “Do you want me to go up there?”

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Talking about my voice, a customer told me on July 14, “You sound like a machine. I want to be transferred to a supervisor!”

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I think I talk at a normal rate of speed. However, some people disagree. A customer told me on July 14, “You talk too fast. You need to slow down.”

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I spent the first 32 years of my life in Connecticut. I thought I spoke Standard American English. I might be wrong, however. On July 14 a customer told me, “I have trouble understanding you. You have a funny accent.”

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I wonder if I sound like Hal in the movie “2001: A Space Odyssey”? On July 15 a customer told me, “You sound like a robot!”

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Talking about robots, on July 21 customer told me, “You’re hard to understand. You sound like a computer.”

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Talking about computers, a customer asked me on July 28, “Is this a recorded message?” I answered “No.” The customer then shouted, “I just said ‘no!’”

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I should probably change jobs. A customer told me on July 29, “You sound like a theme park narrator.”

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I might not sound very trustworthy on the phone? A customer asked me on July 2, “This isn’t a fraud, is it?”

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I wonder if I am too persistent? A customer asked me on July 10, “Are we on a loop where I say ‘no’ and you keep reading the same thing?”

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I might be suffering from a credibility gap like President Lyndon Johnson during the Vietnam War. A customer told me on July 10, “You all lied to me. It’s a doggone shame.”

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I had a rather unusual conversation on July 10. I spoke to a “Mr. Strange.”

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I think I keep my cubicle clean. However, some people might disagree. On July 14 a customer told me, “That’s rubbish! Close the whole deal down!”

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Some customers are polite enough to say “thank you.” On July 16 a customer told me, “Thanks so much for wasting my time.”

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A female customer had some self-esteem problems on July 28. She told me, “We’re not interesting here.”

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I thought I was watching BBC America or a Britcom on MPBN on July 7. A “Mr. Bean” was on the phone.

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I had a very boring phone call on July 7. A “Mr. Dull” was on the line.

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I spoke to a “Ms. Wang” on July 7. I like pussies, but I did not rename myself “Mr. Pussy.”

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Talking about pussies, a “Mr. Kuntz” was on the phone on July 28.

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Someone must have been real pissed off on July 8. I spoke to a “Mr. Uren.”

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I spoke to a real dumb ass on July 8. His name was “Mr. Dumas.”

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In Acadian-French, a “chu” is an ass or a backside. A “Ms. Chu” was on the phone on July 29.

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Talking about body parts, a “Mr. Phuc” was on the phone on July 29.

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I spoke to a real dog on July 9. His name was “Mr. Sheppard.”

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A customer out there must not have a problem with erectile dysfunction. His name was “Mr. Hardman.”

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Talking about being “hard,” a “Mr. Aycock” was on the phone on July 17.

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Talking about cocks, a “Mr. Chubb” was on the phone on July 23.

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Dustin Hoffman’s girlfriend was on the phone on July 16. I spoke to a “Mrs. Robinson.”

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All of these body part jokes are really tasteless. I therefore will not mention that I spoke to a “Mr. Tittman” on July 30.

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For some people, it is “Happy Hour” all the time. A “Mr. Booze” was on the phone on July 18.

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Some people have bipolar disorder. A “Mr. Moody” was on the phone on July 21.

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Talking about customers with mental problems, a coworker spoke to “Ding Dong” on July 28.

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Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by U.S. Customs. If I go to Canada, cross back into America, and nothing unusual happens in America, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs, if I am given a full body cavity search, or if I am subjected to one million questions even though I have a U.S. Passport and do not even have a speeding ticket, I will report that.

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Sunday, June 28, about 5-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, July 5, about 5-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, July 12, about 5-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report. I declared a doggy bag from La Praga Restaurant.

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Monday, July 13, about 9-something a.m., at the Van Buren, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, July 19, about 5-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, July 26, about 6-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by Canadian Customs. If I go to Canada and nothing unusual happens in Canada, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs, if I am given a full body cavity search, or if I am subjected to one million questions even though I have do not even have a speeding ticket on my record, I will report that.

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Monday, July 13, about 8-something or 9-something a.m. EST, at the St-Leonard, N.B., port of entry:
Based on memory, the conversation went something like this with the Customs official. My 73-year-old stroke-afflicted mother was a passenger:

Customs Officer: Where are you from?

Joe:: Grand Isle, Maine.

Customs Officer: Both U.S. citizens?

Joe:: Yes.

Customs Officer: Purpose for your trip to Canada?

Joe: We are going to Grand Falls to go shopping.

Customs Officer: So you will be back this evening?

Joe: Yes.

Customs Officer: Aside from clothing, do you have anything with you in the car?

Joe: If you mean alcohol, tobacco, firearms, mace, pepper spray, or gifts that will stay in Canada, no.

Customs Officer: Do you have an empty trunk?

Joe: I think I have some oil in the trunk in case I get a red light on my dashboard.

Customs Officer: That’s it?

Joe: Yes.

The officer then let us on our way.

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Sunday, July 19, about 4-something p.m. EST, at the Edmundston, N.B., port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, July 26, about 4-something or 5-something p.m. EST, at the Edmundston, N.B., port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met July 27. Due to time constraints, i.e. the author has to go to bed and work tomorrow, a brief outline is as follows:

First Selectman Bob Dunbar could not attend the meeting for personal reasons.

The two remaining selectmen approved the minutes of July 21. They also signed payroll and expense warrants for July 27 and July 30.

The town Public Works director sent a letter to the board about the price of cold patch (road material). The selectmen decided to send the director to pick up a small amount of material personally, rather than have a large amount of material delivered that cannot be used and would go to waste.

The town leaders also discussed whether to have a written policy about people who owe back sewer bills, back water bills and back tax bills. For years, when someone owed back bills, a new payment was applied to the oldest bill. It was not applied to the newest bill. The selectmen decided to take no action and will discuss the matter at the next board meeting.

The selectmen also received a registered letter. The town leaders did not discuss the contents, and they decided to wait until the next meeting to discuss it and/or take action.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

On Sunday, July 26 at about 1 a.m. I was on the phone talking to my girlfriend in Michigan. I heard a loud noise outside. However, I did not investigate. I figured someone threw a beer bottle on my land – again.

I later went outside to put something in my mother’s 1991 Chevy pickup truck on Sunday, July 26 at about 11 a.m. (The truck was parked at my house.) I closed the driver’s door and noticed that her rear driver’s side window was shattered into little, tiny pieces. (The back window has three mini-windows inside of it for lack of a better term, and it was the mini-window behind the driver’s seat that was reduced to tiny little fragments.)

I walked around, and I noticed an object that resembled a five-inch-long metal pipe. It was laying on the ground about 15 feet away.

The state trooper came by, and he thinks someone might have hit the window. On the rubber part beneath the window, on could see a small outline of a partially round object. The object on the ground turned out to be an unscrewable grip of a bicycle handle bar.

On the other hand, the trooper pointed out that nearly all glass was in the pickup truck’s bed. It was not in the truck. That was a bit unusual.

After the trooper left, I vacuumed the remnants of the now-dead window.

I then drove the truck to an undisclosed location where a friend put some plastic over the window and taped it down with red masking tape. (I dare not reveal the person’s name, because someone might target him in a worst-case scenario.)

I then discussed the window situation with an older resident, who has some experience with old trucks and windows. The resident thinks that the window was thin and cheap, and it has been expanding and contracting with the heat and cold for 18 years. He therefore thinks the window just blew. The resident had a similar experience with a 1986 pickup truck some years ago.

I want to maintain my faith in the goodness of Valley residents. I also do not want to become a paranoid case like Lieutenant Commander Philip Francis Queeg in the movie “The Caine Mutiny.” In the movie, Queeg (played by Humphrey Bogart) tore a ship apart in search of a nonexistent key to the food pantry. It was all because some strawberries went missing. If I assume the worst in this scenario, I might soon carry little metal balls in my pocket and accuse coworkers of disloyalty, like Queeg.

I will therefore dismiss this incident as an old window that shattered due to old age, plus the rise of Saturn in the house of Capricorn.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Two bateaux (reproductions of old logging boats) were placed into the water at a spot on the St. John River in Grand Isle, across from "Pitt's" barn, on Saturday, July 25 at about 9 a.m. One bateau came from Allagash, and the other bateau came from the Madawaska Historical Society. The goal was to paddle to Van Buren.

Madawaska's bateau was built by Dave Wylie. (The original launching location, the site of the future Grand Isle boat launch, was scrapped because the terrain was too rugged for a truck and a trailer to handle.)

The staff of the Allagash boat soon realized that they forgot some important paddling equipment. The bateaux therefore made a brief stop at the future state-funded boat launch in Grand Isle to pick up some borrowed paddles and a passenger. (The passenger's name escapes me right now, but he is a member of Grand Isle's Budget Committee.)

I want to thank the same Budget Committee member who gave me a ride in his truck into, and out of, the back trail across the street from Pitt's Barn. The committee member also lended the Allagash crew some missing equipment, which shows how Valley residents help each other. I also called First Selectman Bob Dunbar at 8-something in the morning, asking him if he knew if the race was still on. A few minutes later he stopped at my mother’s house to tell me that it is on the trail across the street from Pitt’s Barn. I also want to thank the many people who made this boating expedition possible.

I am hopeful that a new, state-funded boat launch will be ready in Grand Isle at this time next year.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell. Last week I reported some male chauvinist jokes that I heard. I recently heard some good Michael Jackson jokes:

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Farrah Fawcett recently died. When she went to heaven, St. Peter told her, “Since you led an exemplary life on earth, I will grant you a wish.”

Farrah Fawcett said, “I want to make the world safe for children.”

Then Michael Jackson died.

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Once day a young boy was at the beach with his mother. The boy was making sand castles.

Then Michael Jackson walked along the beach and stood in front of the sun.

The boy’s mother then told Michael Jackson, “Get out of my sun!”

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When Michael Jackson died, doctors performed an autopsy. The doctors discovered that Jackson’s body was made of 70 percent plastic.

The funeral home therefore melted Michael Jackson, instead of incinerating him.

The plastic was then made into Lego blocks…so little boys could play with him.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met July 21. Due to time considerations (i.e., the author has to go to bed and work tomorrow), this is a brief outline of what happened:

Grant Writer Dave Wylie, the three selectmen, and about nine members of the public discussed the possible creation of a future economic development committee. Van Buren has a similar committee, and the town has been able to get millions of dollars in grants during recent years.

The committee could also draw up a plan, which would have to be approved by the selectmen, the state and the voters. The plan would help make the town eligible for many more grants. The committee would also be able to set priorities in economic development.

The selectmen also learned that a five-unit apartment building in Lille has only one unit and one bathroom now. Therefore that building will only receive one sewer bill now. A trailer has also been removed from downtown Grand Isle, so that trailer’s owner will no longer receive a water or a sewer bill for that trailer.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell. I talked to a former Madawaska resident today, and he told me that when he was a kid during the 1950s there was a nickname for people who lived in the back settlements of St. David, also known as les concessions. My interlocutor told me they were known as “the cushies.”

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai appris un nouveau mot dans un dépanneur(1) dans la Vallée le 19 juillet. Quelqu’un a inventé quelque chose, ou il a «jerry-rigged» quelque chose. Alors, il a dit qu’il peut être «patenteux.» Je veux user ce mot le pus(2) tôt possib’e(3).

1. Dépanneur = un épicier du coin.
2. Pus = plus.
3. Possib’e = possible. In Valley-French, if a word ends with an "le” or a “re,” the “r” or the “l” is often dropped in conversation.
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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I am getting tired of the rather stupid question that is often posed by younger Canadian Customs officials: “Aside from your clothing, what else do you have in the car with you?”

I usually answer this rather open-ended question by stating, “If you mean alcohol, tobacco, fire arms, mace, pepper spray or gifts that will stay in Canada, nothing like that.”

That answer usually cuts off the interrogation. However, one younger Canadian Customs official in St-Léonard, N.B., wanted to know if I had an empty trunk last week, after I thought I covered everything that they would be concerned with. My memory is good, but it is not good enough to remember everything that is in my trunk.

I will therefore keep this list in a little cubby hole by the transmission hump between the driver’s seat and the front passenger seat. I might read the whole list out loud, the next time someone is not satisifed with my answer of what is in the car.

Spare tire (1) – for personal use.

Equipment to remove a spare tire (1) – for personal use.

Quart of motor oil (1) – for personal use.

Container of Prestone (1) – for personal use.

Bicycle air pump (1) – for personal use.

Container of WD-40 (1) – for personal use.

A folder containing papers, Scotch tape and some thumb tacks – for personal use.

A Phillips screw driver (1) – for personal use.

A flat head screw driver (1) – for personal use.

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Compact discs (11) – for personal use.

Waste paper basket (1) – for personal use.

Container of kleenex (1) – for personal use.

Packs of chewing gum (several) – for personal use.

Flashlight (1) – for personal use.

Purse with change and 1.5 watt batteries – for personal use.

Spare set of eyeglasses, with case (1) – for personal use.

Eye glass case containing several pieces of kleenex (1) – for personal use.

Cell phone (1) – for personal use.

Recharger for cell phone (1) – for personal use.

Sunglasses (1) – for personal use.

Digital camera (1) – for personal use.

Disposable 35 mm camera (1) – for personal use.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met July 15. Due to time constraints, a brief outline is as follows:

Selectman Gordon Soucy announced that the rest area will be open this weekend. (The state recently gave the rest area to the Grand Isle Historical Society. The society will now have picnic tables and toilet facilities ready.) The rest area is at the site of a former church and cemetery.

Grant Writer Dave Wylie also addressed the board. Wylie said the town might be eligible for more grants, if it had an economic development committee.

Town officials are looking for committee candidates right now.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I tried to read about the history of the Mt. Carmel site, but it is hard to reduce it to a few paragraphs. (I was baptized in a Catholic Church when I was an infant, and I have not been back in any church since then. Therefore, a lot of talk about religion goes over my head.) Here is my attempt at condensing the history anyway:

According to “The History of Madawaska” by Father Thomas Albert, many Catholics on the south bank of the St. John River wanted to be religiously attached to the Portland, Maine, diocese in 1843, after the Valley was politically split between the United States and New Brunswick in 1842.

If I understand the book correctly, people who wanted American Madawaska to be under the reign of the Bishop in Portland became known as “Carmelites.” (There was a spring at the site of Mt. Carmel, which reportedly produced some cures. The Mt. Carmel site became a sort of rallying point, or fixation, for controversy over whether American Madawaska should religiously be in an American or a Canadian diocese.)

A chapel was therefore dedicated at the Mt. Carmel site on July 16, 1848.

However, St. Bruno parish soon built a church in Van Buren.

The religious separation of the two banks of the river took place in 1870, when the Pope put American Madawaska under the jurisdiction of the bishop in Portland, Maine, instead of a bishop in Canada.

Perhaps religious interest in Mt. Carmel then waned, when political interest waned?

After that, the Mt. Carmel chapel was abandoned and new construction was done in Grand Isle in 1876.

According to Albert, “Thus disappeared the old chapel of baroque architecture, whose memory lingered like a nightmare and whom one priest had baptized ‘Our Lady of Quarrel.’ A silence of peace, or rather, of death, reigns over the arid rock where a mossy cedar cross still marks the site of the old cemetery.’”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I talked to some males at a popular Valley eatery on July 13 and 14, who told me the following jokes.

I talked to one divorced male on July 13, who is a member of the “4-F Club” when it comes to women. He told me, “Find ‘em, feel ‘em, fuck ‘em and forget ‘em.”

The gentleman also told me, “It’s okay for a woman to bring a tube of toothpaste to the house if she’s staying over. But, it’s not okay for her to bring a hairdryer, because she’s not staying that long.”

Another joke I heard from this gentleman is the following:

Question: “Why do women have two sets of lips?” Answer: “So they can piss and moan at the same time.”

On July 14 another male told me another joke: Question: “What do you call a woman passenger in the car who criticizes a man’s driving?” Answer: “An airbag.”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

On July 13, I heard the following expression in French, to describe the benefits of vitamins, oysters and viagra. I heard, “Ça met le mine au crayon.” (That puts lead in the pencil.) =======================================

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by Canadian Customs. If I go to Canada and nothing unusual happens in Canada, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs, if I am given a full body cavity search, or if I am subjected to one million questions even though I have do not even have a speeding ticket on my record, I will report that.

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Monday, July 13, about 8-something or 9-something a.m. EST, at the St-Leonard, N.B., port of entry:
Based on memory, the conversation went something like this with the Customs official. My 73-year-old stroke-afflicted mother was a passenger:

Customs Officer: Where are you from?

Joe:: Grand Isle, Maine.

Customs Officer: Both U.S. citizens?

Joe:: Yes.

Customs Officer: Purpose for your trip to Canada?

Joe: We’re going to Grand Falls to go shopping.

Customs Officer: So you will be back this evening?

Joe: Yes.

Customs Officer: Aside from clothing, do you have anything with you in the car?

Joe: If you mean alcohol, tobacco, firearms, mace, pepper spray, or gifts that will stay in Canada, nothing like that.

Customs Officer: Nothing like that. Do you have an empty trunk?

Joe: I think I have some oil in the trunk in case I get a red light on my dashboard.

Customs Officer: That’s it?

Joe: Yes.

Customs Officer: Okay.

The officer then let us on our way. However, upon reflection, I believe my trunk might also contain a spare tire, equipment to remove a flat tire, green radiator fluid, fluid to put in a gas tank when it is -15º Fahrenheit, etc. There might even be jumper cables. I am sure there is a major Canadian black market for jumper cables.

I somehow do not think I am helping Canadian national security by pulling over in the middle of nowhere and calling 911 on a cell phone, because my gauge says that I am low on oil or my engine is too hot. Then, when a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police is driving through the back roads looking for my out-of-commission ass, which could be avoided in the first place by carrying some emergency supplies, someone could be swimming across the St. John River with a bag full of drugs or Uranium 235.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I was watching the French-language TV channel Radio-Canada on July 8 at 10:17 p.m. If I understood the French correctly, Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper recently went to the funeral of former Canadian Governor-General Roméo LeBlanc. During the Catholic service, it might be possible that Harper put an hostie (a communion wafer) in his pocket. Does that mean that Harper has Jesus in his pocket?

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Board of Selectmen met July 7. Due to time constraints, a brief outline is as follows:

Insurance man Alan Michaud addressed the board about the municipal insurance policies. Michaud suggested some ways to cut the bill, including removing collision coverage from some very old vehicles.

A representative from Mitzpah asked the board to provide him with some information, so he could apply for a grant. The information included the official name of an unmarked road, maps, etc.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A sheriff’s car, with the license plate number of 202, drove north through downtown Grand Isle on July 6 around 3:17 p.m. The same sheriff then drove south through downtown Grand Isle around 3:26 p.m.

A sheriff’s car, with an unknown license plate number, then drove south through downtown Grand Isle at 3:51 p.m.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un shérif a drivé(1) son char dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle le 6 juillet à autour de 3:17 de l’après-midi. Il a drivé vers le nord. Sa plaque d'immatriculation était la 202. Après, le même shérif a drivé son char vers le sud à autour de 3:26 de l’après-midi.

Un shérif a drivé son char dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle à autour de 3:51 de l’après-midi. On ignore le numero de sa plaque d’immatriculation.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A state trooper was parked in front of the Public Works garage on Sunday, July 5 at 3:40 p.m. His license plate number was 611.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un state trooper(1) a parké(2) son char(3) devant le garage des Travaux Publiques. C’était le dimanche 5 juillet à 3:40 de l’après-midi. Sa plaque d'immatriculation est la 611.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

As many readers know, I have had to work Tuesdays through Fridays from noon to 8 p.m. at the call center. That means that I was not able to learn Valley-French at a popular Valley eatery from 7:30 to 8 p.m. That also means that I was not able to watch meetings of the Grand Isle Board of Selectmen. Starting Tuesday, July 7, I should be back to working 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Tuesdays through Fridays. At that point, “Le Journal du Maudit Gratteux” should resemble a small online newspaper instead of one large opinion piece like the “National Review” or the “New Republic.”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Someone recently asked me why I like to write about the passage of law enforcement vehicles, such as sheriffs, state troopers and Border Patrol helicopters.

The answer is this: If the county, state and federal governments are watching us, who is watching the county, state and federal governments?

It’s true that 3,000 people died on Sept. 11, 2001. (That is about one out of every 100,000 people, in a country of 300 million.)

However, around 40,000 Americans die every year in car accidents. Do we spend trillions of dollars and suspend civil liberties in a war against cars?

When I last visited Paris, France, in August 2001, the first thing that I noticed about the city was that cops often patrolled the streets on foot, in groups. I saw some of these cops stop a passenger in the subway and ask to see his passport. Did the guy do anything wrong? Well, he rode a subway.

When you visited the Louvre Museum, you went through a metal detector. (Ironically, once you got into the museum, there was a little café where they served alcoholic drinks!)

Outside, it was almost impossible to escape the whiny siren sound of tiny French police cars driving around all day.

During the Nazi occupation of France from 1940-44, the French national police helped the Nazis round up Resistance fighters, Jews, and German and Austrian emigrés.

If the U.S. becomes a dictatorship, will law enforcement fight the illegal dictatorship, or will they help the dictatorship round up dissidents? Until I get an answer, all I can say is that I am mistrustful of law enforcement, because as a history major I know what law enforcement can do.

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai parlé avec un homme qui vit à Caribou, mais il a passé son enfance à Madawaska. L'homme a parlé d’un ex-collègue de travail. (L'ex-collègue a masturbé très souvent dans son cubicle dans un centre-d’appel.) L'homme m'a dit, «Il pulle sa poche!»

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

«Le Journal Madawaska» a son propre site web. On peut le ouère(1) à www.lemadawaska.ca Myspace.com n’aime pas les liens. Alors, il faut copier pis(2) coller le lien.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

For the rest of the week, it appears that I will have to work from noon to 8 p.m. at the call center. That means that I will not be able to go to a popular eatery in the Valley from 7:30 to 8 p.m. to learn Valley-French.

Chrisse, pisse, câlice! C'est etchoeurant!

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This opinion column is devoted to some of the funny things I hear from customers as a call center worker in northern New England. This edition will cover the last six weeks. New additions will be made as new material becomes available later. To make this more readable, I will try to separate different entries with a "___". Warning: This column represents real life and adult language in this column is not sugared over. When you work in one of the world’s most stressful occupations where customers use you as a punching bag, you hear bad things and you think even worse things.

For background, a “rebuttal” is something that a telemarketer or a verifier says to a customer when he says that he is not interested. It is a reason to buy the policy.

In the context of this call center, a verifier is someone who speaks to a customer after a telemarketer talks to a customer. The job of the verifier is to make the sale legally binding. The verifier has to read the customer a script and get a “yes” in all the right places.

If someone is working “outbound,” it means the person is cold-calling the public directly. That is when someone is most likely to get insulted.

If someone is working “inbound,” that means the person is taking calls that the public are making into the call center.

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Someone had a great deal of faith in the product that I was selling on June 4. The customer said, "It's a disgrace."

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I take a shower every morning before I go to work. Maybe I missed one day and do not remember it? A customer told me on June 13, "It smells!"

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Some customers do not realize that the cubicles at a call center are very small, and it would be hard to engage in the sin of Onanism without getting caught and making a mess. I say this because a customer told me on June 19, "Go fuck yourself."

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I spoke to a customer who was not open to the idea of buying a great product on June 23. He said, "Ain't gonna happen. Ain't gonna happen. Take my number off your goddamn list."

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I heard a similar comment on June 25. A customer from Ohio asked me, “Can you talk so I can understand you?”

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I encountered a strange phenomenon on June 6. Perhaps this is a medical procedure that is halfway between a normal birth and a caesarian? A customer with an American accent told me on June 6 that she was "bornd" in a town in Texas.

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I tried to speak to a customer on June 19, but her young daughter said that she could not come to the phone. The girl said, "My mother's upset because she lost her great-great-grandmother's Bible."

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A customer tried to get me off the phone on June 19 by saying, "Please say 'goodbye.'" I of course responded by rebutting the customer until she hung up.

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On June 4, another coworker spoke to a woman that I wish I spoke to: "Ms. Horniczyk" or "Horny chick."

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One customer really got under my skin on June 9. Her name was "Ms. Rash."

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Some people do not eat enough Vitamin C. A "Mrs. Ricketts" was on the phone on June 9.

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I guess some customers like to pick their noses in public? I spoke to a "Mr. Gross" on June 9.

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I do not own a gun, but I wish I owned one for my own protection. I spoke to a "Mr. Outlaw" on June 13.

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I drink a lot of tea, so I have to do a "Number 1" more often than the average person. I think someone else has a similar problem. A coworker spoke to a "Wei Wei Ji" on June 18.

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Some people deserve to work at a call center more than me. A “Mr. Swindler” was on the phone on June 27.

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I live on Notre Dame Road in Grand Isle, Maine. I often say that the road should be renamed “Disablity Road,” because most of the adult males under the age of 62 on the road collect disability. However, I think someone stole my idea first. I spoke to a resident of “Lazy Road” in Tennessee on June 26.

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Some people have very long names. On June 26 a coworker talked to a “Mr. Dhamdachhawala.”

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Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by U.S. Customs. If I go to Canada, cross back into America, and nothing unusual happens in America, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs and I am subjected to one million questions even though I have a U.S. Passport and do not even have a speeding ticket, I will report that.

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Monday, June 1, about 6-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report. I declared a half-empty bottle of soda.

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Monday, June 8, about 6-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, June 14, about 6-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Monday, June 15, about 9-something a.m., at the Van Buren, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, June 21, about 5-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

The death of Michael Jackson is a blow to many who were teenagers during the 1980s. I was born in 1972, and I remember that he was very popular when I was in middle school and in high school. I remember many kids who were able to do the "moon walk."

Of course, people criticized Jackson because of his unusual sleeping arrangements with children, his pet monkey, his surgeon's mask, his plastic surgeries, his ranch “Neverland,” etc.

On the other hand, people who were teenagers during the 1940s and early 1950s looked the other way when Frank Sinatra hung around with the mafia, womanized, drank too much, and punched out photographers.

Some people are glad about Jackson's death. Some say, "One pedophile down. A few million more to go." Remember, the allegations were never proven in court.

For me, the death of Jackson, a man-child who never grew up because he never had a childhood, is another nail in the coffin of my own youth.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

On June 24 and 25, some rubber wires were laid across Route 1 in Grand Isle, Lille, Keegan and Van Buren. I assume they were laid by the state to perform a "traffic study." They appeared to be gone by the evening of June 25. (It was dark, so of course I could not see perfectly.)

If I had more time, I would have parked by one of the wires. Then I would have driven back and forth over the wire hundreds of times, just to confuse the state.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

The federal government recently spent billions of dollars to make sure mémère has a passport, if she wants to cross and eat broiled trout at La Praga Restaurant on Sundays. I think the federal government should spend trillions of dollars to combat a new threat to American national security: moose terrorism!

Moose cross the border everyday. They do not stop at customs and declare anything that they purchased outside of the United States.

How do we know that the moose population has not been infiltrated by radical foreign clerics preaching a twisted religion of hatred: Moosism?

For all we know, the moose are holding rallies right now in the middle of the forest, and they are chanting in unison, "We want moose power! We want moose power!" The clerics might be teaching that the best way for a moose to enter "moose heaven" is to die as a martyr for the cause. The cleric could preach that moose heaven is a giant forest without les mouches and without hunters and cars. The cleric could also say that the moose should set up a "Radical Moose Republic" in Aroostook County, which will be free of meddling humans.

If a moose wants to engage in a suicide bombing, he does not have to buy explosives. He can find a crowded building with an outdoor propane tank or an outdoor oil tank. The moose can then ram his rack against the tank until it explodes. A moose can then maim or kill dozens of people at a time.

Imagine if many moose work together? Imagine the damage that they could do then? A giant truck carrying gasoline to a gas station could drive through downtown Madawaska. Then, one moose can throw himself in front of the truck to make it stop. Another moose can lay in back of the truck, so it cannot back up. Then, a dozen moose could attack the gas storage tank with their racks until the tank explodes! In that scenario, hundreds of people could be maimed and killed.

Moose can also engage in drug smuggling. A drug dealer could tell a moose, "If you carry this bag of drugs across the border by holding it in your mouth, I will let you seek sanctuary on my land during hunting season." For all we know, hundreds of bags of wacky weed could be entering the U.S. everyday, transported by moose. The real smart moose could even deposit the drugs in an open car window or an in open trunk.

It is time to make the moose get passport cards, if they want to cross. Moose do not have pockets, so where they would keep a card cannot be discussed in polite society. The moose should have to report to U.S. Customs and show the customs officer his card.

If the moose has to submit to secondary inspection, the moose should be allowed to enter a 20-foot-tall building, with a 20-foot-door, for further questioning.

The Customs officer could pose the moose a series of simple "yes" or "no" questions, which can be answered by pounding the ground with a hoof once for "yes" and twice for "no."

Don't let moose commit another Sept. 11th. Make moose get passport cards now.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I heard a good story in French at a popular eatery in the Valley on June 22. A man, who used to own bulls, said that he castrated his bulls. (It was probably to make them fatter.) However, here is the twist:

After my interlocutor castrated his bulls, he would take the balls, cook them, and then eat them. Does anyone know of a nearby restaurant in Maine or in Canada where I can try a bowl of bulls testicles?

That gives a new twist to the phrase, ”Suçe mes gosses!”

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A white helicopter flew north over downtown Grand Isle on Sunday, June 21 at about 3:29 p.m.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS -- Un hélicoptère blanc a survolé le centre-ville de Grand Isle le dimanche 21 juin à autour de 3:29 de l’après-midi. Il a volé vers le nord.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The sign for 400 B&A Siding Road, which used to have its own small pole, is now affixed to a nearby telephone pole. Nearby residents had expressed concern that the small pole interfered with snow-removal operations during the winter. The small pole no longer exists.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Quelqu’un a mouvé(1) le panneau pour 400, rue B&A Siding. Dans le passé, le panneau a eu son propre p’tit(2) poteau. Récemment, quelqu’un a affiché le panneau sur un grand poteau électrique. Dans le passé, quelques résidents ont plaint que le p’tit poteau a rendu le scraping(3) difficile pendant l’hiver. Le p'tit poteau n'existe pus(4).

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Back in the mid-1990s, I took two French I and French II in college.

The teacher was from Paris, and she had a student who was born in Québec province. When the student said, Je vas instead of Je vais, the Parisien corrected her and said it was Je vais. (“I go.”) That incident bothered me a bit, but then I forgot about it until I moved to the St. John Valley.

Then, I noticed that almost everyone said Je vas in the Valley. Also, the characters on Québécois sitcoms on Radio-Canada usually said Je vas instead of Je vais.

I was reading the novel Les liaisons dangereuses last night. It was written by Pierre-Ambroise Laclos of France and published in 1782.

What did I find in a letter written by a fictional teenage European-French girl who went to school in a convent and belonged to the nobility? Quoi! Sophie, tu blâme d’avance ce que je vas faire!

(“What! Sophie, you blame me in advance for what I will do.”)

To me, the important thing is that someone still speaks French in a continent that is dominated by the English language, north of the Rio Grande. Francophones should not be fighting over regional accents or variations.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I just read that the world’s oldest man is a 113-year-old Brit, Henry Allingham. Allingham is also a World War I veteran.

I plan to beat his record. I want to live to be at least 120 years old. My goal is to move to an assisted-living facility as soon as possible. I will then pretend that I have dementia, and I will harass the nurses. How can you sue a man with dementia for sexual harassment?

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I heard a joke from a former Madawaska resident on June 17. It went like this:

Question: “Why did the little Frenchman swim across the St. John River on his back?”

Answer: “So the fish would not bite his worm.”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I learned today that I will spend the rest of June working from noon to 8 p.m. on Tuesdays through Fridays. (The Saturdays remain the same at 2 to 8 p.m.)

That means that I will not be able to attend Board of Selectmen meetings, unless they are held on Mondays.

I also will not be able to visit a local Valley eatery to learn more Valley-French from 7:30 to 8 p.m.

To add insult to injury, I was sent home early today at 11 a.m., due to a lack of work. I decided to make the most of a bad situation by going to a Valley eatery to learn more Valley-French. I learned the following:

Sometimes the town of “Monticello” is jokingly pronounced “Mon p’tit salaud.” (“My little bastard.”)

A garbage truck in the Valley is not called “un camion à ordures.” It is called “un truck à garbage.”

I have heard of the term “tannant,” such as “Il est tannant” or “Il est un chrisse de tannant.” However, I heard a new variation of this word today: “câlice de tannanterie.”

I want to thank my interlocutors for their input.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES –- A state trooper drove his truck through downtown Grand Isle on Thursday, June 11 at 3:32 p.m. He drove towards the north.

GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS -- Un state trooper(1) a drivé(2) son truck(3) dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle. C’était le jeudi 11 juin à 3:32 de l’après-midi. Il a drivé vers le nord.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle election results for June 9 have been released:

SELECTMAN:
Gordon L. Soucy 57 votes.
Janet Grivois 10 votes.
Janice Grivois 1 vote.

TOWN CLERK:
Helene Marie Sirois 114 votes.

TOWN TREASURER:
Helene Marie Sirois 118 votes.

SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEMBER:
Roger D. Gervais 113 votes.

A total of 127 people voted. Many votes were tossed out to comply with the law. Remember, if you write-in a candidate, you have to check the box in the left, spell the candidate’s name correctly and write in “Grand Isle, Maine” for residence.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

In a victory for democracy, “Communist dictator” candidate Joseph Grinnell got no votes. Even my mother voted for Gordon Soucy.

I ran on this label to lighten the atmosphere of town politics. During the past few days, people could not talk about the selectman’s race without a shouting match.

Next time, I will run as a “Fascist dictator.” I then hope to get two or three votes.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I read in the June 10 edition of the “St. John Valley Times” (page 8) that someone did not like my recent “letter to the editor” about job discrimination against people from “away.”

Job discrimination is not a figment of my overactive imagination. I hear the same stories over and over and over again from many people from “away.” My interlocutors are people as diverse as a man with a B.S. in accounting from southern Maine, who also used to install phone lines; a man who used to work for other carpenters, until he worked for himself and is originally from Massachusetts; a man who used to work at a machine shop in Connecticut; a woman who used to work for a printing press in Connecticut, and so on.

My mother was born in France, so of course I want to preserve French as much as anyone else. (It is rather ironic that she was born in the town of St-James, because it is on the border between the former provinces of Bretagne and Normandie. Where did most of the Acadians who first landed in Nova Scotia come from? Bretagne and Normandie.

We have to be careful that ethnic pride does not turn into racism. It is a very short step. Beirut and Sarajevo were once known as tolerant, culturally diverse cities. They were later ripped apart by armed ethnic struggle.

To me, the problem is easy to solve. If you own a business, just hire the most qualified person regardless of his last name or accent. In a few years, the problem will go away.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met June 10. A brief outline is as follows:

Gordon Soucy was sworn in as a selectman.

Bob Dunbar was elected chairman of the board.

A resident addressed the board about the filming of a small movie in his blocked sewer pipe.

The board hired the engineering firm of B.R. Smith, to write a report about the Community Center. The report will include recommendations about insulation, lighting, windows, ADA-compliance, etc.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

It is hard to talk about the current selectman’s race in Grand Isle, Maine, without things descending into a shouting match. I have therefore decided to lighten the mood by announcing my candidacy for position of “Communist Dictator.”

As far as I am concerned, anyone who makes campaign promises is a liar. So here are some campaign promises.

In Godfather II, the white-clad, Panama-hatted mafioso Don Fanucci told Vito Corleone that he only wanted enough of a payoff to “wet my beak.” I therefore promise to only steal enough “to wet my beak.”

I also plan to import a busload of Grinnells from southern New England. I will then put half of them on the town payroll. The other half will receive town “general assistance” (i.e. welfare). If there are two or three Grinnells that I cannot do anything with, I will put them on the Board of Selectmen.

Talking about hiring people, I will hire a town manager. However, I will not just hire any town manager. I will find a man in his 80s or 90s who served in the German Army in World War II. I would prefer Colonel Klink or Sergeant Schultz from “Hogan’s Heroes.” However, they are dead. But I am sure that someone who can wear a monocle and convincingly shout “Achtung,” “Raus,” “Mach Schnell,” and ”Jawohl” will do. This German World War II veteran can then impose discipline and a new order upon Grand Isle.

To end the debate over whether the town should be named “Grand Isle” or “Lille,” the town manager will rename the town “Stalag 35,” because the town is 35.2 square miles.

I will also launch a war of aggression against our neighbors, to seek more “living space.” I will buy an army surplus tank. Then I will personally invade Madawaska. I will fire shells into Madawaska Town Hall, until Town Manager Christina Therrien and the Madawaska selectmen sign a treaty, ceding the St. David neighborhood to Grand Isle.

I will then announce that, “Grand Isle has no more territorial ambitions in the St. John Valley.”

After the tank’s gun is reboared, I will then break my promise and invade Van Buren. I will then lob shells into the Van Buren Town Hall, until Van Buren’s selectmen sign a treaty ceding the Keegan neighborhood north of the housing project to Grand Isle. (Van Buren can keep the housing project.)

I will not invade St. Agatha. Town Manager Ryan Pelletier is so good at writing grants that he could probably buy a whole Panzer Division, forget about a single tank.

To test how accurate the tank’s gun is at long range, I might take some shots across the river at the tall water tower in Rivière-Verte, New Brunswick, Canada.

Talking about tanks or panzers, the town’s anthem will be the song “Der Panzerlied” from the movie “The Battle of the Bulge.”

After the wars of aggression are over, it will be time to honor the many males on Notre Dame Road who are under age 62, are as strong as an ox, and yet do not work. I will therefore rename Notre Dame Road “Disability Road.”

Until some building lots are sold, "Pine St" will be renamed "Taxpayer-Plowed Private Driveway St".

From now on, anyone who complains about how the town plows its roads will have 5,000 cubic yards of snow pushed into his driveway, not in front of his driveway.

Also, anyone who complains about the Water and Sewer Department will have his waste line blocked, so he will be up to his knees dans la marde.

If anyone suggests an ordinance or a resolution to actually improve the life of Grand Isle residents, I will filibuster the board for hours until I froth at the mouth and fall over backwards.

It is a real shame that Grand Isle residents have to drive all the way to Cabano, Québec, to see dancers. I will therefore support any attempt to open such a bar in Grand Isle. Bottoms up!

I am a big believer in “Green Energy.” I will therefore erect a Mars Hill-sized windmill on top of the fire station in Lille.

I will also hire a small army of private detectives to follow the top executives of Toyota, Ford, Chrysler, Chevrolet and Microsoft. As soon as I have enough compromising photos of these executives using narcotics or cavorting with prostitutes, I will blackmail the executives. The executives will be told, “Open a factory in Grand Isle, or these photos see the light of day in every media outlet!” That should take care of economic development for a few generations.

In honor of the 2001 USA Patriot Act which almost turned the United States into a police state, I will use some emergency to get lawmakers to declare me “Emperor for Life.” In “Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith,” Chancellor Palpatine claimed that the assassination attempt against him was a reason to turn the Republic into an Empire, with him as emperor. It might work again. Vote early and vote often. And no hanging chads please.

Seriously, I am voting for Gordon Soucy for selectman. I do not know who my mother will vote for, but she might be leaning toward Charles de Gaulle.

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LILLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A state trooper drove through downtown Lille on June 5 at 6:15 p.m. He drove towards the north.

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LILLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un policier de l’État a drivé(1) son char(2) dans le centre-ville de Lille le 5 juin à 6:15 du souère(3). Il a drivé vers le nord.

1.Drivé = conduit.
2.Char = une voiture.
3.Souère = soir.
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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I heard a good joke at a popular eatery in the Valley on June 5, 2009:

One day a man went to his car with his old, wrinkled, bitchy wife. The man then shouted, “Charogne!” (A corpse or something that is worn out or useless.)

The wife asked angrily, “What did you say?” The husband answered, «Oh…j’ai dit que “le char runs.”» (“Oh…I said the car runs.”)

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Janet Grivois campaign for selectman has opened a webpage. It is at:

http://jadedrogue.bravejournal.com/

Myspace does not like links, so it will be necessary to copy and paste it into your browser.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – La campagne pour l'élection de Janet Grivois a publié un site web. On peut le ouère à :

http://jadedrogue.bravejournal.com/

Myspace aime pas les liens. Alors il faut copier pis coller le lien sur ton browseur.

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VAN BUREN, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Morrow’s TV burnt down on Tuesday, June 2. Only a pile of rubble remains. The building used to be a hospital.

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VAN BUREN, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – «Morrow’s TV» a brulé le mardi 2 juin. Il ne reste rien que les décombres. La bâtisse était un ancien hôpital.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Janet Grivois of Notre Dame Road has announced her candidacy as a write-in candidate for selectman. Grivois wrote on Facebook that she is tired of how the town is begin run.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES -- In a surprise move, Selectman Gordon Soucy has decided to run again as a write-in candidate on Tuesday, June 9.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Selectman Gordon Soucy has decided to run again as selectman.

As a personal note, a number of people in town joked about writing my name in. However, I have a 10-hour commute per week between Lille and Loring, I spend 4.5 hours per week mowing my lawn when my tractor works, and I spend Sunday either buying groceries for my mother or driving her to La Praga Restaurant. The board also meets four times per month, and there are usually one or two weeks per month when I have to work nights at the call center. I also do not have a phone at my desk at the call center, so I cannot call the state to ask about the town’s contribution to the state pension plan, just as an example.

I also feel that I can best serve the town as a web journalist, by writing about what I see. I will not say “never,” but I will say “not right now.”

I urge anyone who was serious about writing my name in to instead write in Gordon Soucy’s name. Don’t forget “Grand Isle, Maine” has to be listed as his address to make it legal.

Soucy has three years of selectman’s experience. He is always trying to find new ways to save the town money. For example, he has suggested lowering the thermostats during the winter and removing unneeded fluorescent lights. Soucy has also urged that even the smallest jobs go out to bid to save the town money. He also expressed very great concern that the town should get the best deal that it could when it bought heating oil recently.

I know this endorsement will surprise some people. I will be honest with readers and with myself. There was a town job that I applied for last year that I wish that I got. Part of me still thinks that I should have gotten it. However, the board made its decision, and it is time to move on. In national politics, a candidate who loses an election does not go into retirement. He tries again. In 1956 Democratic Presidential candidate Adlai Stevenson asked the floor of the Democratic Convention to choose his vice presidential candidate for him. John F. Kennedy ran at the convention for the vice presidential nomination and lost to Estes Kefauver. In 1960 Kennedy ran for the presidential nomination and won.

The larger issue at hand is this: When the town is in danger of facing its worst economic period since the Great Depression due to impersonal macroeconomic forces that are tearing the country apart, do you want someone who has three years of experience at the helm? Do you want the person with the best résumé at the helm? I always say, much to the boredom of my friends who hear it all the time almost like a mantra, “The person with the best résumé should get the job. It should not matter if he was born in Grand Isle, Connecticut or Pakistan. The person with the best résumé should get the job.” Soucy has the best résumé.”

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

As readers might remember, I reported several weeks ago that the electric line between my house and the top of my well cap broke. That required the digging of a 75-feet long, one-foot deep, trench. That also required the installation of an underground wire inside a 75-foot-long plastic conduit. After that, I had to put a few inches of dirt over the conduit the old fashioned way, muscle power.

The earthmover came on June 2 with a giant yellow machine and filled in the trench. I now have to rake the area and scatter some grass seed. My rake broke, and I do not have grass seed. I will probably take care of that Sunday or Monday, when I do not have to work at the call center. The main thing is that the wire is buried, so a rainstorm or windstorm cannot bother the wire.

If I was still living in West Haven, Connecticut, a building inspector would probably be harassing the hell out of me and threatening me with fines and court orders. Thank God Grand Isle, Maine, does not have zoning.

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This column is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I leave my tar paper shack in the village of Lille, in the town of Grand Isle, around 7:30 or 7:40 a.m. on weekdays. During my route along Route 1, between Lille and Connor, I am usually passed by a car with either a “STATE” license plate or a “COUNTY” license plate. (On some days it might be both.) I do not know if these cars are driven by government pencil-pushing bureaucrats or cops driving unmarked cars.

When the speed limit is 50 mph, I set the cruise control at 50 mph. When the speed limit is 55 mph, I set the cruise control at 55 mph. For the government employees to pass me, they have to drive faster than the legally posted speed limit.

Considering that normally decent, law-abiding citizens get tickets that cause their insurance rates to go up for going 10 mph over the limit, is this a good example for the citizenry?

As the Québécois like to say, Ce qui est bon pour minou est bon pour pitou!

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This opinion column is devoted to some of the funny things I hear from customers as a call center worker in northern New England. This edition will cover the last six weeks. New additions will be made as new material becomes available later. To make this more readable, I will try to separate different entries with a "___". Warning: This column represents real life and adult language in this column is not sugared over. When you work in one of the world’s most stressful occupations where customers use you as a punching bag, you hear bad things and you think even worse things.

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At the end of a phone call, a customer told me, “Take a breathe and go out and get a beer. You deserve it.”

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I might be a bit boring? I asked a customer, on April 28, if he wanted me to read him the exclusions. The customer answered, “What? I was about to fall asleep.”

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Some customers do not understand that the job of a call center worker is to rebutt a customer until they surrender and say “yes” and buy the product. A customer told me on May 2, “They’re tape recording you being a smart ass. I’m hanging up now.”

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The last time I checked my birth certificate, my mother was a human, not a female dog. When a customer hung up on me on May 5 he said, “What a freakin’ son-of-a-bitch!”

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A woman did not want to buy the product on May 7, despite all of my rebuttal attempts. She then put her child on the phone who sang, “Ole McDonald had a farm. E..I…E…I…O.”

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Some customers think the call center is a 1-900 number. A customer called in to buy a product at the Inbound Desk on May 13, and he spoke to a coworker.

The customer said, “My pen won’t work! My pen won’t work!”

My coworker then passed the headset to a supervisor. The customer then asked the supervisor, “My pen won’t work. Is it okay if I shake it harder?” The supervisor answered, “No!”

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A customer did not give me a chance to explain my great product offer on May 13. He said, “I can say ‘goodbye’ or I can just hang up.” I of course rebutted the customer until he hung up.

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Some people do not like to hear my presentations. A customer shouted at me on May 19, “Fuckin’ stop it!”

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I have to read a script to comply with company policy. If I veer off the script too far, the sale can be rendered null and void by my supervisors. A customer apparently did not understand that on May 20. She said, “It sounds like you’re reading off a script and not having a conversation.”

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A telemarketer transferred a customer to me to “verify” the sale on May 21. Instead of hearing a customer, I heard Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos playing in the phone.

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I asked a customer on May 22, “Do you want me to read you the exclusions?” The customer answered, “I’m tired of you, and you must be tired of me.”

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Long before Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal, Clement Atlee’s British welfare state and Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society, people believed in robbing from the rich to give to the poor. On May 1 one of my coworkers spoke to “Robin Hood.”

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I spoke to a “Mr. Frock” on May 2. I hope he never gets defrocked.

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I spoke a very popular person on May 16. His name was “Mr. Barman.”

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I spoke to someone from “Climax, Georgia” on May 23. A few minutes later, I spoke to someone from “Seaman, Ohio.”

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A coworker spoke to a “Ronald McDonald Jr.” on May 28.

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I spoke to a “Mrs. Hogg” on May 29. I guess she was a real pig?

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America is afflicted with the national epidemic of low self-esteem. On May 4 a customer with an American accent told me, “I’m not interesting.”

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Some customers like riddles. One customer asked a coworker on May 7, “Can you spell solid water with three letters?” The coworker answered, “No.” The customer then said, “I…C…E.”

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One customer probably worked with Werner von Braun to build the V-2 rocket and later to send a man to the moon. He asked me on May 9, “So by saying ‘yes’ that means that I’m enrolling?”

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I wonder how many people are killed each year by electricity running through phone lines? A customer told me on May 12, “I have to get off the phone. It’s lightening.”

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Where I work we sometimes have to cut losses if we do not get a sale and move on to the next customer. I used every trick in the book to try to get a customer to say “yes” on May 20. It did not work. I therefore read the customer the “courtesy close” of, “That’s fine. If you have any questions, call [name of company deleted] at 1-800 [name of company deleted]. The customer then said, “That was rude. I say I don’t want it, and you try to push me off.”

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At work, the product I sell requires an “enrollment.” In other words, we send you the product. If you don’t like it, you can call and cancel your enrollment in 60 days, and you won’t be billed anything at all. However, it is an enrollment.

A customer did not understand that this is an enrollment on May 8. So I had to reexplain, “The way my bosses set up the program and I am powerless to change it is that this is an enrollment.” The customer answered, “Well, get a new boss!”

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I was born in Milford, Connecticut, in 1972. I lived in Milford from 1972 to 1982. I then lived in West Haven, Connecticut, from 1982 to 2004. As far as I know, I speak Standard American English. However, a customer born in Springfield, Massachusetts, asked me on May 22, “Can you speak slower? Your accent is hard to understand.”

Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by U.S. Customs. If I go to Canada, cross back into America, and nothing unusual happens in America, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs and I am subjected to one million questions even though I have a U.S. Passport and do not even have a speeding ticket, I will report that.

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Sunday, May 3, about 1-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, May 10, at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report. I declared about $8 worth of items from the $1 store.

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Sunday, May 17, about 4 p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, May 24, about 6 p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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As a reported a few weeks ago, the electric line between my house and the top of my well broke. A temporary indoor line was laid on the grass between my house and the top of the well. Also, a 75-foot-long trench was dug, one foot deep.

On May 26 a plumber came and installed the underground wire in a conduit. I have started to bury the conduit by hand. I have only a few centimeters of depth over the conduit. I need to have a few inches of depth over the conduit, before I can ask the earthmover to come by and bury the rest of the trench with a large yellow machine. (Conduits do not take kindly to being crushed by boulders.)

I work for the rest of the month from 1 p.m. to 9 p.m. on weekdays (plus 2 to 8 p.m. on Saturdays). To get to work on time, I have to leave my house at 11:30 a.m. My mother recently returned to her house, and I have been spending my mornings driving all over the Valley retrieving things for her. (She cannot drive herself right now.)

Neighbors might have to live with the sight of a World War I style trench in my backyard for a few more weeks.

I also have not hard time to look at my “wall” on Facebook, nor look at my mail that came in from Myspace. Friends may have to be patient until I can resolve my many problems.

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LILLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A sheriff drove north through downtown Lille on May 24 at about 6:42 p.m. A sheriff then drove south through downtown Lille at about 7:39 p.m.

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LILLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un shérif a drivé(1) son char(2) dans le centre-ville de Lille le 24 mai à autour de 6:42 du souère(3). Il a drivé vers le nord.

Un shérif a drivé son char dans le centre-ville de Lille à autour de 7:39 du souère. Il a drivé vers le sud.

GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Resident Michelle Grinnell returned to her house in Grand Isle on Friday, May 22.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – La résidente Michelle Grinnell est rentré dans sa maison à Grand Isle le vendredi 22 mai.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I entered the U.S. Port of Entry in Madawaska around 6-something p.m. on May 24. I saw a new machine that I never saw before. It is before the booth. You are supposed to show this machine your passport card, before you proceed to the booth.

In the past, I thought the Religious Right adherents who warned about the “mark of the beast” in Biblical prophecy (without which one cannot buy or sell) needed a strong dose of Prozac. Maybe they are on to something after all? I do not know if you are also supposed to show this machine news passport books, which reportedly has a computer chip.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met May 20. A brief outline is as follows:

Prior to “Le Journal’s” arrival, the board adjourned to hold a public hearing about the non-profit, Mitzpah. Mitzpah officials want to apply for a state grant, and the town would be used as a conduit for money to enter and leave. It would not cost the town anything. Attendees voted 12-0 in support.

After the public hearing, the selectmen returned to Board of Selectmen business. The selectmen proofread the warrant articles that will soon be submitted to the Budget Committee.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I will be working from 1 to 9 p.m. for the rest of the month on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. I will continue to work on Saturdays from 2 to 8 p.m. (I usually go to a popular eatery in the Valley from 7:30 to 8 p.m. to learn Valley-French.) I also will not be able to watch local government meetings, unless they are held on Mondays. I hope to return to a normal schedule in June. I want to apologize to my French teachers at the popular eatery and to my readers who wait for news about town government.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I got in trouble again at the call center again for rebutting a customer back to the Stone Age. (A rebuttal is what you say to a customer when he says that he is not interested. It is a reason to buy the policy.)

I wish I was a detective. I would be perfect playing “good cop/bad cop” with a perp, with me being the “bad cop:” “Don’t give me that shit! We know you did the crime! I have a witness who places you at the scene! We have your prints! You’re going to Attica! Do you know what they do with fresh meat like you in the general population?”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

On May 18 someone told me that the newly-constructed Lille cell phone tower was working for one of the cell phone services. (I did not have my notebook with me, and the name escapes me now.) However, I did turn on my Tracphone, and I did get American time instead of Canadian time. I also did not see an “RM” on my phone for “roaming.”

A lot of behind-the-scenes hard work and negotiations took place for at least two years for this cell phone tower to become a reality. Probably because I once spent five years working for the newspaper chain Hometown Publications in Shelton, Connecticut, my instinct is to use the press as a hammer to pound the opposing side into submission. Other people were wiser than me and saw the wisdom of quiet negotiation.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

As readers may remember from previous editions, on May 16 I found out that there was a broken electrical line between my house and the top of my well.

Today a local farmer dug a 75-foot trench to the well with a large yellow machine. When I have a full weekday off next Monday, I hope to have an outdoor wire laid down between the house and the top of the well. After that, I have to partly fill in the trench with some dirt to insulate it from heavier material. Then I have to ask the farmer to come back and refill the trench with the rest of the dirt and small rocks.

(I work Tuesday through Friday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. and Saturdays from 2 to 8 p.m. That leaves me Sunday and Monday off.)

I know downtown Grand Isle residents hate to spend money every three months for water and sewer bills. However, the alternative is one giant headache as far as I am concerned.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A state trooper drove his car through downtown Grand Isle on May 17 at 4:52 p.m. His license plate number was 631.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un state trooper(1) a drivé(2) son char(3) dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle. C’était le 17 mai à 4:52 de l’après-midi. Sa plaque d’immatriculation était le 631.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

As you may have read, on Saturday at 3 a.m. the electrical line between my house and the top of my well failed.

I recently talked to a farmer, who might dig me a 75-foot long (one-foot deep) trench from my well to near my house today. (I am writing this at about 11:43 a.m.) The rest of the path, about six feet, is under an overhang, so his large machine cannot reach under there.

I am slowly using an ax, a shovel, and the back of a hammer to scrape away at the ground, which is as hard as concrete and filled with rocks. Someone offered to lend me a pick, but I do not like to borrow other people’s property for fear of breaking it. I hope to finish the trench in time to visit a popular eatery in the Valley to learn Valley French from 2:30 to 4:30 p.m.

Once the trench is dug, the plumber would be able to come to the house and lay out a long outdoor, underground electrical line. After that, a farmer or I would have to come back and refill the trench.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

As I wrote in the May 16 edition of “Le Journal,” I woke up on May 16 at 3 a.m. I then discovered that I had no running water. This is what happened next:

The plumber came over at around 11 a.m. and discovered that the electrical line between my house and the well pump is broken.

Right now, there is a temporary electrical line running on the grass between my house and the well pump (a distance of about 75 feet, not including all of the twists and turns that it has to make in my basement). Tomorrow, on May 18, I hope to replace that electrical line with another electrical line, which will still have to run on the grass.

The plumber left a message on the answering machine of a local farmer, who has the technology to dig a 75-foot long, one-foot-deep trench. I do not know the result of that phone message.

I hope I can get a local person to dig the trench with the most modern technology. If not, it may be necessary to hire a small army of out-of-town uninsured teenage workers to dig the trench by hand with ax and shovel. It might resemble footage of the construction of the Burma Road in World War II. We will have to see.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I woke up this morning on May 16 at around 3 a.m., and I tried to use the bathroom sink. No water came out.

I replaced the current submersible well pump in November 2008. It is 300 feet underground. I am waiting until a “decent” hour to call the plumber. No one can pull a pump out of a well by himself. I work Saturdays. The plumber will need help, if the worst-case scenario comes true. I can only miss so many days at my call center before I get fired. (When you have a mother who has had two strokes and northern Maine is a 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. world, you miss time from work if you do what you have to do to keep your family alive when some of its members cannot drive themselves.)

I am hoping that there is a bad connection between the circuit breaker box and the little gadget that makes a “tick, tick, tick” sound next to the water pressure tank. Another hope is that the recent very bad wind storm somehow caused a wire to get loose around the cap of the well, within easy reach of everyone.

I am also taking care of my mother’s 14-year-old cat at my house. (He was found homeless in Connecticut around 2001, and a veterinarian said back then that he was six years old based on his teeth, which puts his date of birth possibly back to 1995.) If I cannot get the plumber to come within a few days, I will have to move myself and the cat into my mother’s house, since I cannot throw money away on a hotel if I have to fix a well pump.

I do not want to move the cat back to my mother’s house unless my mother is there. Otherwise, I am getting his hopes up for nothing. How much moving can a 14-year-old cat handle before it gets a heart attack and dies?

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

If you behave responsibly, credit card companies will punish you!

This is an excerpt of a letter that I opened on May 15 from Chase:

“We’re writing to you because we noticed that this account hasn’t been used and has had a $0 balance for at least 24 months. We believe this may indicate that the account no longer meets your financial needs. With this in mind, the account has been closed.”

I have a word for the Chase CEO that my Acadian and Québécois neighbors might appreciate: T’es un chriss de cochon! T’es un mangeur de marde! T’es un pousseur de crotte. T’es un creusseur de poule! T’es un creusseur de dinde! Mange la marde mon p’tit maudit! Va donc chier!

Will that outburst get me my credit card back? No. Does it make me feel better? Yes.

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LORING AND CARIBOU, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Loring Commerce Center authorities, possibly aided by contractors or other entities, filled in the potholes on Nebraska Road on May 14 and 15. In one or two places, a grader stripped off the asphalt and replaced it with a smooth dirt surface.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Some public hearings will be held in May 2009.

The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen will hold a public hearing May 20 at 7 p.m. at the town office meeting room.

Mitzpah will apply for a grant through the state. Mitzpah will ask the town to sponsor. It will be no expense to taxpayers. Grand Isle will just be a location for grant monies to be received and disbursed.

The Grand Isle Planning Board will hold a public hearing May 28 at 6:30 p.m. The board will review and discuss the Grand Isle Flood Plain Management Ordinance. The board will also review and discuss the proposed Grand Isle Shoreland Zoning Ordinance and map.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A state trooper drove through downtown Grand Isle at about 7:35 p.m.

After that, a sheriff drove through downtown Grand Isle at about 7:37 p.m.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un state trooper(1) a drivé(2) son char(3) dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle à autour de 7:35 du souère(4).

Après, un shérif a drivé son char dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle à autour de 7:37 du souère.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met May 12. A brief outline is as follows:

For background, the selectmen decided some weeks ago to make all apartment owners pay sewer bills for all of their apartment units, even if they have unrented units. Recently, Don Cyr bought the former Parent Store in Lille, which has some empty unrented apartment units.

Cyr came to the selectmen’s meeting. He announced that he will rip out the bathroom fittings for all of the apartments in the store, except one. Cyr also said the store and the rectory will become the property of the nonprofit church restoration organization.

The selectmen also discussed the draft language for a future warrant article regarding Mitzpah.

The town leaders also plan to discuss a written town personnel policy in future meetings. They are currently looking at an edition from another town for ideas.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I tried on several occasions to cancel my mother’s cell phone account with AT&T. The last time that I tried was on May 11, 2009. Someone on the phone told me to write to the cancellation department. Here is the letter. This might give you pause before you get a cell phone account with AT&T.

Joseph Normand Grinnell
Power of Attorney for Michelle Grinnell
PO Box 84
Grand Isle, Maine 04746
May 11, 2009
Tel. 207-895-3451

AT&T
Cancellation Department
2614 North Roan St.
Johnson City, TN 37604

To whomever it may concern:

During the 1990s, my late father bought a contract for a cell phone for AT&T. I believe it was at a Radio Shack in Connecticut. He apparently gave the wrong Social Security number. Or, the boy who took his information at Radio Shack typed it down wrong.

My mother tried to cancel her cell phone account several years ago when she has a credit on her bill. The phone staff refused to cancel it, because she did not have the right Social Security number. My mother cannot go to a Radio Shack store in Connecticut to cancel it, because she now lives in northern Maine – 600 miles away. My mother also had a stroke last year and again this year. She needs two arms to use a cell phone, and only one arm works well. What would she do with a cell phone?

I would like to cancel the account [deleted for web publication]. The phone number is [deleted for web publication].. I was hoping that the account would have cancelled itself when no one paid. You can continue charging, but we can continue ignoring the bill. If you try to take my mother to court, we can also tell the judge about how AT&T refused to cancel her bill on several occasions. How can you expect someone, especially a stroke victim, to drive 600 miles to a store in Connecticut to cancel an account? I also question the legality of how Radio Shack and AT&T could allow my father to create a cell phone account for my mother without my mother being present.

Please cancel her account.

Sincerely,
Joseph Normand Grinnell
Power of attorney for
Michelle Grinnell
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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Un collègue de travail n’etait pas très heureux aujourd’hui. Alors, il a dit, «Marde de vache!» Dans le passé, il a dit «Marde de chien!» Je voudrais dire «Marde de vache» le pus(1) tôt possible.

Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai regardé un skit(1) sur une comédie sur la chaîne de télévision Radio-Canada le 7 mai. Un voyageur a arrêté aux douanes canadiennes. Le douanier a demandé si le voyageur a visité une ferme pendant les 14 derniers jours. Le voyageur a dit qu’il a visité «la ferme ta gueule.»

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I sent a “letter to the editor” to the “Aroostook Republican” on May 6. I hope it will run on May 13. It is about the state of Nebraska Road near Loring. I am posting this ahead of time on my website because I want readers to see whether or not it runs, when I am also waiting in anticipation. I also want readers to see if the copyeditors change anything. Here it is:

Joseph Normand Grinnell
85 Notre Dame Road
PO Box 84
Grand Isle, Maine 04746
Tel. 207-895-3451
May 6, 2009

To the Editor:

Someone needs to fill in the potholes on Nebraska Road by Loring.

The road reminds me of aerial photographs of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, after it was bombed by B-52s.

I can tell you it is very hard to reach Loring in the morning because of those potholes. I am thinking about parking my car on the decent part of the road and then walking the rest of the way to work. I would have to walk around the potholes, to avoid breaking an ankle.

I do not know who is responsible to fill in the potholes. I don’t even care anymore. I just want them filled.

I am writing this letter on May 6 at 5:19 p.m. The last time I saw the road was on May 5. If by some miracle the potholes get filled before this letter is published, I think it should still run in the hope that the authorities will feel some remorse and show some contrition. The responsible parties should be hanging their heads in shame. They should be covering their faces with a newspaper whenever a press photographer tries to take their pictures.

Joseph Normand Grinnell
Grand Isle
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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

On Saturday, May 2, I left Loring at 8 p.m. and headed home towards Grand Isle. I decided I would stop for a Coca-Cola at the Bottmz Up Bar in Van Buren, to help break up my long trip. (My favorite Valley eatery further north was long closed by then.)

When I sat down at the bar, someone told me there was a $5 cover charge that night. I did not see any band. I am sure that if I did see one, I would have wished to have some ear plugs. (To give you a clue about my musical tastes, I was listening to a CD of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony on my way home.)

I therefore said, “That’s fine. I’ll leave.” I never even got my Coke.

Does that make me an enemy of modern music or a cheap bastard?

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VAN BUREN, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Saucier’s Shurfine in Van Buren has its own website. To see it, highlight and paste the following link into your browser. (Myspace.com does not like links.)

http://sauciersshurfine.com/

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VAN BUREN, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS -- «Saucier’s Shurfine» de Van Buren a son propre site web astheure(1). Pour le wouère(2), on pourrait copier pis(3) coller le lien suivant. (Myspace.com n’aime pas les liens.)

http://sauciersshurfine.com/

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

A coworker, who lived in Madawaska in the 1950s until he moved away to Caribou at age 13, asked me to ask Valley residents about an alcoholic couple named “Annie pis Joe.” I asked many people at a popular eatery in the Valley about the couple for months with no success. Then I struck gold last night from a former Madawaska resident.

The coworker remembered that they were a couple who walked around Madawaska, and the man would usually walk ahead of the woman – or vice versa. (It is safe to write about them now, since they are dead.)

According to older Madawaska witnesses that I found last night, the couple was Annie Lagasse and Joe Daigle. Joe’s father apparently owned half of Madawaska, but he drank it away. The couple fought all the time. Annie also wore high heels with socks.

When you are a kid, these sorts of people apparently make a lifelong impression.

In another trip down Madawaska’s memory lane, the same coworker also had a father who was a supervisor at Fraser, so they lived in company housing. The coworker remembered that a man used to collect the supervisors' household garbage with a horse-drawn wagon. When he was a kid, the coworker used to hide behind a snowbank and make noises, which was the signal for the horse to move ahead. The horse would then start moving.

Then the horse’s owner, not knowing this, would shout at the horse. My coworker could not remember the horse owner’s name, but I found out it was probably Pat Tardif. Tardif used to live at a house owned by Abele or Adele Picard, which is long gone and replaced by a McDonalds.

Later, Fraser supervisors had their household garbage removed by a man with a pickup truck named George L’Italien.

It is funny how oral history works. If someone tells you a small scrap of information based on childhood memories and you ask enough people about it, eventually you can fill in the details.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I heard an expression for "a girlfriend" in Valley French on May 1. Instead of saying une blonde like in Québec or une petite amie like in France, you can call her une putiyutte. (I spelled that phonetically and probably wrongly.) If anyone has more information, please e-mail me.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES –- The Grand Isle Planning Board will meet Tuesday, May 5 at 6:30 p.m. in the Grand Isle Town Office meeting room.

The board will discuss the proposed Grand Isle Shoreland Zoning Ordinance and map. The board will also discuss the Riverfront Community Development Bond Grant.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Greater Grand Isle Historical Society will meet May 28. The Grand Isle ATV Club will meet May 13. The Grand Isle Fire Department will meet May 12. For more information about precise times and locations, highlight and paste the following link into your browser. Then scroll down. (Myspace.com does not like links.)

http://grandislemaine.com/Events.htm

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES –- A sheriff patrolled downtown Grand Isle on April 30. A sheriff drove his car south at 6:17 p.m. Then he drove his car north at 6:35 p.m. Then he drove his car south at 6:37 p.m. The sheriff then had a pulled-over car parked in front of him at 6:41 p.m.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un shérif a patrouillé le centre-ville de Grand Isle le 30 avril. Il a drivé(1) son char(2) vers le sud à 6:17 du souère(3). Pis(4), il a drivé son char vers le nord à 6:35 du souère. Pis, il a drivé son char vers le sud à 6:37 du souère. Après, on a vu un char parké(5) devant son char à 6:41 du souère.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A state trooper drove his car through downtown Grand Isle on April 30 at 3:42 p.m. His license plate number was 611.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un state trooper(1) a drivé son char(2) dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle le 30 avril à 3:42 de l’après-midi. Sa plaque d'immatriculation était le 611.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met April 28. A brief outline is as follows:

(Editor’s note: This report will be shorter than usual, because the author has to take a five-hour long written test in Presque Isle. The test starts April 29 at 9 a.m.) Prior to “Le Journal’s” arrival, state Rep. Bernard Ayotte visited the selectmen. Ayotte announced that the state legislature unanimously gave the state-owned rest area to the Greater Grand Isle Historical Society. (The state-owned rest area has been closed for several years.) The historical society is expected to reopen the rest area this year.

If a few budget line items fall into line during the next few days, the proposed 2009-10 town budget might be $400 under last year’s budget, which was around $620,000. However, the selectmen hope to take $30,000 from the unappropriated surplus, instead of last year’s $45,000. That would lead to the town needing to raise $15,000 through taxation (probably about 1.5 milles). (The unappropriated surplus is basically a town savings account.)

The unappropriated surplus is expected to be around $182,000. However, it had been shrinking in recent years, because some previous boards had visited the account to avoid or reduce mill rate hikes. It is considered unhealthy by some to allow a town’s unappropriated surplus to get too low, because it might affect a town’s bond rating and hinder its ability to respond to emergencies or pay for big projects.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The cell phone tower was physically erected on April 27. However, it is expected to take a few weeks before the tower is handling cell phone signals.

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This opinion column is devoted to some of the funny things I hear from customers as a call center worker in northern New England. This edition will cover the last six weeks. New additions will be made as new material becomes available later. To make this more readable, I will try to separate different entries with a "___". Warning: This column represents real life and adult language in this column is not sugared over. When you work in one of the world’s most stressful occupations where customers use you as a punching bag, you hear bad things and you think even worse things.

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I wonder if my presentations are too long? A customer told me on April 2, “I’m canceling. You talk too much.”

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Some people do not like the fact that I have to read a script to comply with company policy. One customer asked on April 9, "Could you try not to sound like you're reading a script? When you read a script, I get bored and hang up." She soon hung up.

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Another customer recognized my qualities on April 7. The customer said, “You did that very nicely.”

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One customer was concerned about my labor conditions on April 25. She asked me, “Do you have to memorize all this?”

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I wonder if I need a doctor to check my colon? A customer told me on April 1, “You’re being an asshole. I don’t appreciate it.”

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One of my coworkers spoke to a female Japanese immigrant on April 1. When my coworker finished the sale, the customer told the coworker, “I have a cunt.” My coworker heard, but he did not believe his ears. So he asked the customer if she had any further questions. The customer repeated, “I have a cunt.”

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Talking about cunts, I asked for a customer on the phone on April 24. The customer answered, “Fuck you” and hung up.

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I wonder if some people do not trust me? On April 8 a customer told me, "Go to hell...I'm not enrolling in anything...you fool...you thieves! Do you speak English?"

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A coworker spoke to a “Mrs. Dickey” on April 2. I guess we can see what she likes?

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A “Mr. Belcher” was on the phone on April 3. He was well-mannered, because he never belched at all.

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Someone knows how to enjoy life. A "Mr. Boozer" was on the phone on April 9.

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I think television remote controls have created a culture where people have short attention spans. One customer told me on April 10, “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this crap.”

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I wonder if I am too persistent? A customer told me on April 24, “I’m calling the police!”

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Yet another customer understood telemarketing on April 7. The customer said, “You’re trying to scam me!”

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Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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This column is about Valley residents who make a difference.

Even though Limestone is not in the St. John Valley, I still want to make honorable mention of a store in downtown Limestone called “Paul’s Sub Shop.” The store serves pizza, ham and cheese, hot dogs, hamburgers, French fries, etc. I took advantage of a large Sundae during a visit in early April.

When I first visited the store, it reminded me a bit of atmosphere of Morin’s Variety in St. David, McDonalds in downtown Madawaska, and a popular eatery in downtown Grand Isle. There was a bulletin board hanging on the wall, where I of course posted some “Le Journal du Maudit Gratteux” business cards.

There were locals sitting around and shooting the breeze. Some youths sat at a table near the front window, and they commented on a local policeman who was pulling speeders over. The youths knew all of the pulled-over speeders by name, and they commented on the drivers’ rashness. It was a warm day, so of course the youths paid special attention to the teenage girls wearing shorts.

What was missing was there was no French being spoken – at first. Then two people came in and starting talking about a pickup truck in French. Then I felt like I was back in Grand Isle.

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by U.S. Customs. If I go to Canada, cross back into America, and nothing unusual happens in America, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs and I am subjected to one million questions even though I have a U.S. Passport and do not even have a speeding ticket, I will report that.

Sunday, March 29, about 1-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report. I declared my $12 worth of canned herring, my $5 toilet plunger and my toy from a McDonalds Happy Meal, with the appropriate receipts. The receipt from McDonalds said, “Jouet – garçon 0.01$.”

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Sunday, April 5, about 2-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Saturday, April 11, about 12-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report. I declared $30-something worth of canned mackerel and pickled eggs. I also declared a toy from a McDonald’s Happy Meal. The receipt from McDonalds said, “Jouet – garçon 0.01$.”

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Friday, April 17, about 2-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, April 26, about 2-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report. I declared $16 worth of items from the $1 store and a toy from a McDonald’s Happy Meal. The receipt from McDonalds said, “Jouet – garçon 0.01$.

Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai entendu une nouvelle expression le 23 avril. Un collègue de travail a dit, «Marde de chien!» Il vit à Caribou astheure(1), mais il a grandi à Madawaska.

Dans le passé, j’ai regardé l’émission «Les belles histoires des pays d’en haut» sur Radio-Canada. Le gratteux(2) Séraphin a dit, «Viande à chien» très souvent. (Séraphin n’aime pas jeter(3) l’argent.)

Je veux dire «Marde de chien!» le pus(4) tôt possible.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell. For some years, the credit line on my Bank of America credit card was close to $30,000. I just got a letter from BOA stating that they were reducing my limit to $15,000. What the hell’s up with that?

Here is what the letter said, “We periodically review our customers’ accounts to ensure we are offering each cardholder the most appropriate credit line. In some cases, we discover we have extended customers more credit than they are likely to use or need. Given the size of your credit line and the way you have historically used your account, we have adjusted the credit line on your card to $15,000.”

I hope the company goes out of business! Bank of America est un maudit trou de chu(1)! Bank of America est un vrai colon(2). J’ai un mot pour le PDG(3). Mange la marde(4)!

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met April 22. A brief outline is as follows:

The selectmen discussed the draft 2009-10 budget. The 2009-10 budget is expected to be around $4,000 higher than the 2008-09 budget. (The selectmen had budgeted around $620,000 for 2008-09.) The selectmen hope to spend less for fuel this year. (The figures are subject to change.)

The town leaders also discussed painting the town logo onto town vehicles.

The selectmen also plan to ask the Public Works director to check on the price of removable speed bumps for Notre Dame Road. These bumps can be removed during the winter, so the road can be plowed.

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This editorial represents the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

My girlfriend, Debra “Rivkah” Miller of Michigan, found a can of Budlight & Clamato on my land on April 18. I have a word for the guilty party. Stop the shit, or I’ll kick your ass! To see a picture, highlight the following link and paste it to your browser (Myspace does not like weblinks):

http://www.geocities.com/mauditgratteux/clamato4182009.JPG

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Ma blonde(1), Debra «Rivkah» Miller du Michigan, a trouvé une canette de «Budlight & Clamato» sur mon terrain le 18 avril. J’ai un mot pour le coupable. Arrête le niaisage, ou je vas(2) botter ton chu(3)! Pour wouère(4) une photo, on peut copier pis(5) coller le lien suivant sur ton browseur (Myspace n'aime pas les photos):

http://www.geocities.com/mauditgratteux/clamato4182009.JPG

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I recently picked up my girlfriend at the airport in Bangor for a visit. On the way up north on April 16, we discussed the merits and demerits of windmills.

In the past, I had read letters to the editor that were written by some Mars Hills residents. They said the windmills were so loud that they lowered their property values. I had heard similar complaints on documentaries on Radio-Canada about windmills in the Gaspé peninsula.

I therefore thought I would try to settle the dilemma for myself when we drove through Mars Hill. Church Street appeared to be heading straight for a windmill. I therefore got onto the street. Before I knew it, the street turned into a private driveway. The driveway was guarded by an untied, ankle-biter lap dog. The dog then attacked my 2005 Ford Focus.

I opened the window, and I told the dog, “Go home to your master.” The dog backed away from the car a bit. I then drove in reverse a bit. Then the dog re-attacked the car. This procedure was repeated for five or six minutes, until I had backed up a few hundred feet from the house. At that point the dog lost interest.

I therefore never got a chance to see if I could hear the windmills, and if they really do make a “whoosh whoosh” sound. For me, the debate continues.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Board of Selectmen met April 14. A brief outline is as follows:

“Le Journal” staff arrived after all of the agenda items were covered. The selectmen did go over a very preliminary draft budget, where changes are still expected.

Excluding the unknown costs of education and donations to nonprofit charities, the 2009-10 budget is expected to be about $6,800 larger than the 2008-09 budget. Last year, the 2008-09 budget was set at $620,381. However, the current budget year has still not run its course.

In 2009-10, some increases are expected in some items such as vehicle maintenance for the Public Works Department and calcium chloride. For example, a pick-up truck will need a new transmission.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

A few weeks ago, I discovered that there are two ways to measure traffic on your website.

A conservative way is to only note the number of “unique visits.” If I understand correctly, in a “unique visit,” if someone from IP address 123.456.789.1011 visits the page with your web counter 20 times in a few hour period, this person is counted only once

A more liberal way is to count “page views.” That means that if someone from IP address 123.456.789.1011 visits the page with your web counter 20 times in a few hour period, he is counted 20 times. That “page viewer” might be going to the “Welcome” page of the site and then clicking a link to go somewhere else. Then he might be coming back to the “Welcome” page. Then he might be clicking a link to go somewhere else – and so on.

A teenager could probably hit the refresh button 1,000 times in a few hours as a very bad practical joke. Then the website owner might think that he is the owner of the new CNN.com.

When I found out about these two ways to measure traffic, I then found out to my great disappointment that “Le Journal” is usually getting about a dozen hits per day, instead of the 20-something that I thought that I was getting. I want to apologize to readers for the earlier estimates that I published.

How you measure your web traffic is not just a matter of ego. It can also be a matter of big bucks, if you sell advertisements. (I do not sell advertisements, because I do not want to deal with the tax-related paper work. I also do not want a gas station owner or a convenience store owner to try to tell me what I can and cannot write, just because they bought some advertising space.) If I reach 226 “unique visits” per day in the next few years, I might change my mind. Until then, I prefer to be 100 percent independent.

When someone tries to get you to buy advertising space on his website, you might want to ask the advertisement representative if the figures he is giving you are for “unique visits” or “page views.”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Last night, I was thinking about calling some garages today to see if I can have my studded snow tires taken off and my summer tires put on. Considering how much it snowed today, I think I will wait until the last day of April to comply with the law. If this keeps up, maybe the state of Maine should let us keep our studded snow tires on until July 1?

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai visité un dépanneur(1) dans la Vallée aujourd’hui, pis(2) j’ai mangé un hotdog(3). Un client m’a dit, «Tu manges la pissette(4)!» Je voudrais user(5) cette expression le pus(6) tôt possible.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I want to write about my battle against a new addiction – pickled eggs. I ate about five tonight (April 11). They taste so good and require no preparation. If I continue this addiction, I will probably have a heart attack in a tomato garden and die like Vito Corleone in the movie “The Godfather.” My supplier is the IGA store in Edmundston, New Brunswick, Canada. Each jar costs about $12 and contains 22 eggs.

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Je voudrais écrire au sujet de ma nouvelle addiction, les oeufs marinés. Ils ont un bon goût, pis(1) ils demandent aucun preparation. Si mon addiction continue, je vas(2) mourir dans un jardin des tomates, à cause d’une crise cardiaque, comme Vito Corleone dans le film «Le parrain.» Mon fournisser est le magasin «IGA.» Le magasin est dans la ville d’Edmundston au Nouveau-Brunswick au Canada. Chaque pot coûte autour de 12 piastres.(3) Chaque pot contient 22 oeufs.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – News about the flooding can be found at: http://www.grandislemaine.com/

To see the link, highlight and paste the address into your browser. (Myspace.com does not like links.)

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Les nouvelles sur les inondations sont disponsible sur ce lien, http://www.grandislemaine.com/

Pour wouère(1) le lien, il faut copier pis(2) coller http://www.grandislemaine.com/ sur ton browser. (Myspace.com n’aime pas les liens.)

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – The Grand Isle Prescription Drug Card is now available. For more information, visit http://www.grandislemaine.com/

To see the link, highlight and paste the address into your browser. (Myspace.com does not like links.)

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Le «Grand Isle Prescription Drug Card» est disponsible astheure(1).

Pour saouère(2) plus, visitez http://www.grandislemaine.com/

Pour wouère(3) le lien, il faut copier pis(4) coller http://www.grandislemaine.com/ sur ton browser. (Myspace.com n’aime pas les liens.)

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This editorial represents the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I just received a phone call from a bill collector. The bill collector wanted a former resident of this house, Patrick Russo. Russo has not lived in this house since at least 2002. My credit score is over 800. I am not Patrick Russo! Leave me the hell alone!

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Un bill collector(1) m’a callé(2) aujourd’hui. Le bill collector cherche pour un ancien résident de cette maison, Patrick Russo. Russo n'a pas vécu icitte(3) depuis 2002 au moins. Mon score de credit est plus de 800. Câlice de tabernak(4), je suis pas Patrick Russo! Laisse-moé(5) en paix!

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A white helicopter flew over downtown Grand Isle on April 6 at 2:12 p.m.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un hélicoptère blanc a survolé le centre-ville de Grand Isle. C’était le 6 avril à 2:12 de l'après-midi.

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This editorial represents the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

As readers may know, my mother had a stroke in early March 2009. She is at the assisted living facility at Borderview in Van Buren. If all goes well, she should hopefully be back home in a few weeks.

People have been asking me, “What are you eating, and why aren’t you dead yet?” (I do not cook. If a meal cannot go in a microwave, the meal does not happen.)

Here is the answer: For breakfast, I drink a can of Slimfast. It meets 100 percent of my Vitamin C requirements and keeps me from being hungry for four hours. Averaged out, it is about $1 per can at Rite Aid in Van Buren, Maine, United States.

For lunch, I often eat two cans of canned herring and one can of canned mussels. You can get cans of herring, with lemon and pepper in it, for only 1$ a can at the $1 store in St-Basile, New Brunswick, Canada. Cans of mussels are also 1$ at that store.

For dinner, a few pickled eggs are good. I can get a jar of 22 boiled, pickled eggs at IGA in Edmundston, New Brunswick, Canada, for about 12$. That averages out to about 50 cents an egg. Tuna salad with crackers are another alternative. They cost $1 at Family Dollar in Van Buren and Madawaska, Maine, United States.

When I am really extravagant, I can get a Happy Meal at McDonalds in Edmundston, New Brunswick, Canada, for around 4$. It also comes with a toy.

I am 5 feet, 6 inches tall (about the height of Napoléon and Woody Allen.) On the morning of April 5, I weighed 144 pounds. As a standard of comparison, when I left Connecticut in late October 2003, I weighed around 185 pounds. People were warning me that I would end up having a heart attack or a stroke if I did not lose weight.

I was supposed to get a raise at my job in January, which did not happen. I wish I had a BB-gun, because the crows around my house are starting to look tasty. I wonder if you can stick a crow in a microwave?

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This editorial represents the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I found a can of Budlight & Clamato on my land on April 2. I have a word for the guilty party. Stop the shit, or I’ll kick your ass!

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai trouvé une canette de «Budlight & Clamato» sur mon terrain le 2 avril. J’ai un mot pour le coupable. Arrête le niaisage, ou je vas(1) botter ton chu(2)!

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – Grand Isle resident Janet Grivois published a story in the student newspaper, “Middle of the Road, University of Maine at Fort Kent.” It’s on page 3. To see the story, highlight and paste the following link on your browser:

http://www.umfk.maine.edu/pdfs/current/studpaper/mofrvol3.pdf

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Janet Grivois, de Grand Isle, a publié une histouère(1) dans le journal, «Middle of the Road, University of Maine at Fort Kent.» C’est sur le page 3. Pour wouère(2) l’histouère, on peut copier et coller le lien suivant sur ton browser:

http://www.umfk.maine.edu/pdfs/current/studpaper/mofrvol3.pdf

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

A reader in Togo, Africa, asked me to post the following website about a charity that helps rural children. It is in both French and English. To see the site, highlight and paste the following link on your browser:

http://enfantcaer.over-blog.org

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This editorial represents the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I took three years of German in high school…and then I forgot it all. However, I seem to remember just enough to spot a scam in German when I see it. When it comes to the parts that I think I can recognize without dragging out my monster-sized German/English dictionary, I will write underneath those sentences in italics.

Fonds Treuhänder,

Mein Name ist Dr.Phil Boateng, ich bin der western Regional Auditor General der first national bank,süd afrika(FNB).

My name is Dr. Phil Boateng, I am the western regional general auditor of First National Bank, South Africa.

Ich kann Ihnen eine finanzielle Transaktion präsentieren, von der wir beide profitieren werden.

I can present you a financial transaction, from which we can both profit.

Ich habe Ihre Daten während meiner Suche in ausländischen Branchenverzeichnissen gefunden. Als Regional Auditor General der Bank gehört es zu meinen Aufgaben, am Jahresende einen Finanzreport an meine Hauptgeschäftsstelle zu senden. Während ich standardmäßig eine Prüfung der Konten in unserer Datenbank durchführte, die auch einen Jahresabschlußbericht beinhaltete, entdeckte ich einen Betrag in Höhe von 5,500.000,00 US$ (fünf Millionen fünfhunderttausend US Dollar).

There is something here about $5.5 million. I wonder if it is for me??????????

Dieser Betrag wurde nicht von meiner Hauptgeschäftsstelle registriert, es handelt sich hierbei um einen Mehrgewinn, den unsere Eastern Region Zweigstelle im letzten Quartal 2007 erwirtschaftet hat. Seitdem habe ich diese Summe in ein ESCROW Konto transferiert und veranlasst, daß sie diese Woche über eine Diplomatic Agency als Familieneigentum nach Europa versandt wird. Ich suche nun nach einem ausländischen Begünstigten, der den Fonds in Europa vom einem angegliederten Diplomatic Offshore Payment Office in Empfang nehmen kann. Als eine Führungskraft der Bank kann ich nicht direkt mit diesem Geld in Verbindung gebracht werden, und nicht als Begünstigter auftreten. Daher benötige ich Ihre Hilfe, um das Geld treuhänderisch in Empfang zu nehmen, damit wir es danach teilen können. Für Sie besteht praktisch kein Risiko, alles was Sie tun müssen, ist als ursprünglicher Einzahler aufzutreten, der dieses Geld bei der Diplomatic Agency deponiert hat. Falls Sie mein Angebot akzeptieren und mit mir zusammenarbeiten, würde mich das sehr freuen.

Sobald ich Ihre Antwort auf mein email adresse (philboateng2009@aim.com) und senden sie ihre(Adresse,email adresse und Telefonnummer) erhalten habe, werde ich Sie mit den Details vertraut machen und unser Treffen in Europa arrangieren.

I did not get all of this, but this “doctor” wants my address, e-mail address, and phone number. I think he then said that he can send me details and arrange a transfer in Europe.

Mit freundlichen Grüßen

With friendly greetings

Dr.Phil Boateng

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

J’ai regardé(1) l’émission «L’auberge du chien noir» sur Radio-Canada le 30 mars. J’ai appris qu’on pourrait dire «Ferme ton clapet!», au lieu de dire «Ferme ta bouche!» ou «Ta guele!» ou «Ferme ta guele!»

Je voudrais dire, «Ferme ton clapet!» a quelqu’un le pus(2) tôt possible!

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I heard a new word to describe “a giver of something” (un donneux) in Montréalais on March 30. I watched the fictional TV show “The Boys” on Radio-Canada. The amateur hockey team on the show found out that one of their members who is a real cheapskate (un gratteux) -- and who works as a male meter maid and gives out parking tickets -- is actually rich. They also called the job category of a male meter maid «un donneux de tickets.» If I ever get a parking ticket in Edmundston, New Brunswick, Canada, for parking more than two hours in one spot, I wonder what would happen if I yell at the meter maid or cop, «Hostie(1) donneux de tickets! Laisse-moé(2) libre! Mange la marde(3) mon p’tit(4) maudit!»

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Back in the early 20th century, snobbery was pretty direct. When the young Franklin D. Roosevelt wanted to join Harvard’s prestigious Porcellian Club, a vote was held among members by putting black or white balls into a container. If there was just one black ball in the container, the applicant could not join the club. Even though Franklin Roosevelt’s uncle Teddy Roosevelt was once a member, Franklin got “black-balled” and he could not join.

A bit later, the Irish-Catholic Ambassador Joseph P. Kennedy Sr. wanted to join some country clubs in Massachusetts, whose members were the Boston Brahmins (old, rich White Anglo-Saxon Protestant families). Kennedy could not join either.

In the early 21st century, a new form of social snobbery has come into being. If someone likes you, he will let you join his Facebook or Myspace page. If he does not like you, you are not allowed to join. The more things change, the more things stay the same.

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This opinion column is devoted to some of the funny things I hear from customers as a call center worker in northern New England. This edition will cover the last six weeks. New additions will be made as new material becomes available later. To make this more readable, I will try to separate different entries with a "___". Warning: This column represents real life and adult language in this column is not sugared over. When you work in one of the world’s most stressful occupations where customers use you as a punching bag, you hear bad things and you think even worse things.

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Unlike the lady from Lima, Peru, another customer had a completely different opinion about just how comprehensible I am on Feb. 25. He said, “I’m sorry sir. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

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I wonder if I am boring and take too long? I asked a customer on Feb. 24, “Do you want me to read the exclusions?” The customer answered, “No, I don’t have another six hours. I’d have to kill myself.”

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Someone also thought that I was boring on March 3. He said, “This is boring the hell out of me!”

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I wonder if I am annoying, on top of being boring? A customer told me on March 11, “This is goin’ on and on. This is nerve wracking.”

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There are people out there who think that my presentations are too short. One customer complained on March 6, “You’re too persistent, and you talk too fast.”

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Whenever I take an online I.Q. test, I usually score 120-something. (The national average is about 100.) A customer must have sensed my intelligence on March 24. He asked me, “Do you think you’re a smart-ass? Don’t fuckin’ call here again!”

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I was the victim of ethnic discrimination on Feb. 25. A customer asked me on Feb. 25, “Are you Arab?” I answered, “No.” The customer then asked me, “Are you Jewish?” I answered, “No.” The customer then said, “Then I don’t like you.”

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I wonder if I rebut customers too much? (A rebuttal is what you say to a customer when he says that he is not interested. It is a reason to buy the product.) On Feb. 26 a customer told me, after about four rebuttals, “Okay asshole! Get a supervisor on the line!”

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I know that I am losing hair on the top of my head. However, the problem might be worse than I thought. A customer told me on Feb. 28, “I’m telling you right now I don’t want it, dickhead!

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Some customers do not understand that sometimes it takes four minutes on the phone to make a sale legally binding. I think it is worth it if the award is a $25 cash gas rebate coupon. At the end of one sale on March 19 a customer asked, “All that for all that? What a bitch!”

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Talking about whores, I spoke to a “Mrs. Bottom” on March 18.

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A coworker spoke to an even funnier person in early March, a “Mrs. Arse.”

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A Mr. Van Weerd was on the phone on March 20. The weird thing is that he did not seem weird at all.

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A man with the first name of “Stalin” was on the phone on March 23. (Stalin was the dictator of the Soviet Union from the early 1920s to 1953.) There was something even more unusual about Stalin than that. His house number was “1889,” the year Adolf Hitler was born.

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Some people are real dogs. I spoke to a lady named “Bich Huynh” on March 24.

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Also, a “Dik Wong” was on the phone on March 24.

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Some customers do not understand that the job of a call center worker is to use all of his persuasive powers and all of his skills at manipulation to make a customer say “yes” and buy the product. One customer told me on Feb. 27, “I don’t like to be pressured like that.”

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Someone else did not like my sales efforts on March 5. She complained, “I feel like I’m being argued with!”

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If a customer keeps me on the phone for more than a few minutes, I have so much time invested in the sale that I will rebut the customer until she buys the product or hangs up. A customer thought I could be stopped on March 14 with, “You’re arguing with me. Stop!” She had to hang up to get rid of me.

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I wonder if I talk loud? A customer told me on March 24, “I’m hanging up now. You’re hurting my ear!”

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I spoke to a customer who cares about the labor conditions of call center workers, I think. The customer asked me on Feb. 25, “Do you get enough of a commission to interrupt people during dinner?”

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Maybe I should open up a business selling umbrellas? A customer told me on March 6, “There’s something shady going on here.”

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Maybe I fart too much at work? A customer complained on March 10, “There’s a lot of crap going on here.”

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Talking about crap, a customer told me on March 12, “I’m gonna pass. There’s too much bullshit.”

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A customer tried to pull out of buying a great product on March 19, because “It’s too confusing.” I then told the customer, “I can speak slower if you want?” The customer then retorted, “I’m a registered nurse. I’m not dense!”

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I thought I was watching a Britcom on BBC America or Maine Public Broadcasting on March 20. A man with a working-class English accent told me, “It’s a con. It’s a complete and utter con!”

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I was asked a very unusual question on March 26. A customer asked me, “What’s your favorite color?” Since some of my favorite characters include Darth Vader and Richard III, I answered, “black.” The customer then hung up.

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Everyone likes sex. However, sometimes a responsible adult has to put sex aside to buy a program that will help his family. A man hung up on me on March 17 with the excuse, “I got my wife in bed. I gotta take care of her!”

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A customer got upset with me on Feb. 25, and she asked me, “What part of ‘No’ don’t you understand? The ‘N’ or the ‘O?’” I answered innocently, “I’m sorry. You said you wanted to enroll and hear more about the program?”

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Even if you hold a headphone away from your body, sometimes a customer can still hear you. On March 14 I spoke to a man who kept me on the phone for 10 minutes, on a sale that should have taken four minutes. He then tried to pull out at the last minute. (The worst thing a customer can do to me, because then I am honor-bound fight to the death to keep the sale.) The man then put his wife on the phone.

The wife asked, “You’re still on the phone?” The woman then asked to speak to my supervisor. The room was almost empty that might, so I yelled across the room, “Hey [name of supervisor deleted], we have an ‘irate’ on the phone.” After the supervisor talked to her, he said that the lady said that I should not yell that I have an “irate” on the phone.

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A customer told me on March 20, “I’m unemployed right now. Can you call back in a few months?” I of course wanted to try to save the sale. I therefore said, “A lot of our customers are unemployed right now. That’s why just for enrolling you get to keep a cash gas rebate coupon even if you call and cancel. You can use the gas to drive anywhere you want. You can even use the gas to drive to job interviews.”

Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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When the customer comes to me, I will read a customer a script. I have to get him to say “yes” in all the right places to close the sale. In order to stay in good standing with our bosses, a verifier has to “save” at least 65 percent of the sales that come to him.

If a verifier saves 65 percent or more of the sales that comes to him, he gets a financial bonus. The verifier is also less likely to be laid off during slow times. The high-performing verifier can also sometimes go on break more often than he normally should, without any supervisor seeming to notice. Most important of all, the successful verifier will not be sent to “Siberia” by having to “cold call” hundreds or even thousands of customers per day like a regular telemarketer, which is hard on the voice and the nerves. As a standard of comparison, a verifier might speak to only 50 or 60 people per day.

Some customers will not buy the product. A verifier who loses a sale will sometimes pound the table with his fist or punch the cubicle walls. He will also sometimes scream across the room at some incompetent telemarketers who sent a sale that was never going to happen. (Examples are telemarketers who do not tell the customers that this is an “enrollment” or telemarketers who send customers who do not speak English.)

Verifiers sometimes even use militaristic terms to describe their jobs, and some will talk about “crushing and destroying the customer’s will to resist” and “showing no mercy and no pity. It’s a war to the death!”

Management uses the more benign term of “conversions,” when they talk about sales statistics. To me, the word “conversions” evokes images of Conquistadors and Spanish priests forcing the Native Americans of the Caribbean, Central America, and South America to accept Christianity at the point of a sword after 1492.

Much of this reminds me of interrogators in the Soviet secret police.

During the time that Joseph Stalin was dictator of the Soviet Union, from the early 1920s to 1953, interrogators for the secret police had to meet a quota of “confessions” from political prisoners. The quotas were also known as “totals.” It did not matter if the prisoners were actually innocent or guilty. Stalin needed slave labor for his Five Year Plans. Stalin also needed to eliminate Soviet bureaucrats who were appointed when Vladimir Lenin was alive, so he would have some new young bucks who were loyal only to him.

This is what dissident Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn wrote about Soviet secret police interrogators in his book, “The Gulag Archipelago:”

What prompted them [interrogators] all to slip into harness and pursue to zealously not truth but totals of the processed and condemned? Because it was most comfortable for them not to be different from the others. And because these totals meant an easy life, supplementary pay, awards and decorations, promotions in rank, and the expansion and prosperity of the Organs [bureaucratic departments] themselves. If they ran up high totals, they could loaf when they felt like it, or do poor work or go out and enjoy themselves at night. And that is just what they did. Low totals led to their being kicked out, to the loss of their feedbag. For Stalin could never be convinced that in any district, or city, or military unit, he might suddenly cease to have enemies.

That was why they felt no mercy, but instead, an explosion of resentment and rage toward those maliciously stubborn prisoners who opposed being fitted into the totals, who would not capitulate to sleeplessness or the punishment cell or hunger. By refusing to confess they menaced the interrogator’s personal standing. It was as though they wanted to bring him down. In such circumstances all measures were justified! If it’s to be war, then war it will be! We’ll ram the tube down your throat — swallow that salt water!

There were often serious drinking bouts, too. I remember Beria, Malenkov, and Mikoyan had to ask the waitresses to pour them colored water instead of wine because they couldn’t keep up with Stalin’s drinking.

There had been excessive drinking at Stalin’s table ever since before the war. Prior to their deaths, Shcherbakov and Zhdanov had been two of the worst offenders in this vile activity — and two of its first casualties as well. Once, Shcherbakov even went so far as to expose Beria, Malenkov and Mikoyan’s arrangements with the waitresses to be served colored water instead of wine. When Stalin realized he had been deceived he fumed with anger and raised a terrible uproar. We were all disgusted with Shcherbakov, but of course we couldn’t say anything about it. Shcherbakov ended up drinking himself to death — and he drank not so much because he had a craving for alcohol, but simply because it pleased Stalin when the people around him get themselves into embarrassing and even disgraceful situations. For some reason he found the humiliation of others very amusing. I remember once Stalin made me dance the “Gopak” [a Ukrainian folk dance] before some top Party officials. I had to squat down on my haunches and kick out my heels, which frankly wasn’t very easy for me. But I did it and I tried to keep a pleasant expression on my face. As I later told Anastas Ivanovich Mikoyan, “When Stalin says dance, a wise man dances.”

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I have to work on Tuesday, March 31 from 3 p.m. to 11:30 p.m. at a call center. I therefore will not be able to report on the Grand Isle Board of Selectmen meeting. I want to apologize to readers.

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Cet éditorial est l’opinion de Rédacteur en chef Joseph Normand Grinnell.

Je doé(1) travailler le mardi 31 mars, entre 3 heures de l’après-midi et 11:30 heures du souère(2), dans un call center(3). Je peux pas reporter sur la séance des selectmen. Je voudrais donner mes excuses aux lecteurs.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES – A border patrolman drove through downtown Grand Isle at about 50 MPH on Sunday, March 29 at 5:23 p.m. His sirens were not flashing. The speed limit in downtown Grand Isle is 30 mph.

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GRAND ISLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS – Un officier du Border Patrol a drivé(1) son truck(2) à autour de 50 milles à l'heure dans le centre-ville de Grand Isle. C’était le 29 mars à 5:23 du souère(3). Ses sirènes n’étaient pas allumées. La limite de vitesse au centre-ville de Grand Isle est 30 milles à l’heure.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I heard a good joke about a talking dog in French, at a popular eatery in the Valley. My written French is not good enough to reproduce it, so here it is in English:

One day a man was driving in Québec, and he saw a sign that said “Talking dog for sale.”

The driver thought that he could not miss seeing that, so he stopped at the house. The owner was on the front porch with the dog. The driver got out of his car and asked the owner if it was true that he had a talking dog for sale. The owner answered that he did.

The driver then asked the dog, “So, you can talk?”

The dog answered, “My owner beats me and starves me and swears at me.”

The driver was astounded and said, “Wow, it’s true! You have a talking dog! Why do you want to sell him?”

The owner answered, “The dog talks…but he lies.”

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This column is about Valley residents who make a difference.

I want to thank firemen Ken Beaulieu and Bruce Bouley for responding to my mother’s stroke on March 7 at around 6:30 a.m. Beaulieu checked my mother’s vital signs and kept her talking until the ambulance arrived. Bouley directed traffic and asked Ricky Theriault to plow out the driveway, so the ambulance could enter the property more easily. I also want to thank Ricky for plowing the driveway at 6:30 on a Saturday morning.

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Editor’s note: This column was written exclusively for Le Journal de Maudit Gratteux. It is devoted to monitoring how I am treated by U.S. Customs. If I go to Canada, cross back into America, and nothing unusual happens in America, I will write "Nothing unusual to report." If the car is searched by drug-sniffing dogs and I am subjected to one million questions even though I have a U.S. Passport and do not even have a speeding ticket, I will report that.

Sunday, March 1, about 6-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Sunday, March 8, about 2-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

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Monday, March 16, about 12-something p.m., at the Madawaska, Maine, port of entry:
Nothing unusual to report.

Joseph Normand Grinnell
JGrinnell@link2usa.com

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LILLE, MAINE, UNITED STATES -- A helicopter flew over downtown Lille on March 27 at 9:18 a.m.

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LILLE, MAINE, ÉTATS-UNIS -- Un hélicoptère a survolé le centre-ville de Lille le 27 mars à autour de 9:18 du matin.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

My passport card arrived on March 28. I will no longer have to carry a monster-sized wallet to contain my passport book. My renewed passport book arrived a few days ago. I often go to Canada on a whim, the way people in Caribou or Limestone might go to Presque Isle on a whim. It will be good to go to Canada again, so I can be an international chrisse de tannant instead of just a Grand Isle chrisse de tannant.

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QUÉBEC, CANADA – A Québécois dictionary is available at:

http://www.dictionnaire-quebecois.com

Please highlight and paste, because Myspace.com often is troublesome about allowing links to go through.

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QUÉBEC, CANADA – Un dictionnaire Québécois est disponible. On peut le wouère(1) à

http://www.dictionnaire-quebecois.com

Il faut copier pis(2) coller le lien, parce que Myspace.com n’aime pas les liens en générale.

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This editorial is the opinion of Publisher/Editor Joseph Normand Grinnell.

I got my bill from Cary Medical Center on March 28. Remember a few weeks ago I had bronchitis and I had a pain in the center of my chest? I could not find a doctor in the Valley who would see me that day. I therefore went to Cary, and a doctor put a stethescope on my chest, tapped it in a few places, and told me to inhale and exhale.

Before insurance kicked in, it was about $300. After my insurance paid, I still have to pay $200.

Next time I get sick, I will just let my immune system cure it.

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Myspace.com will not let me form a link to my old Geocities.com addresses. So it will be necessary to highlight and paste these addresses into your browser to go further into the past:

http://www.geocities.com/josephct1972/mg01172009to03272009.html

http://www.geocities.com/josephct1972/mg01122009to11012007.html

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