Memory fades and blurs but the past remains as events that transpire before the moment we currently find ourselves experiencing. Regardless of what we can remember, something has happened. I was born in an area of northern Maine called Aroostook County. The climate taunts the citizenry to stay warm and sane with nine months of harsh winter and enough snow/ice to keep anyone down. The Air Force base closed before I was halfway through grade school and the economy imploded without a forced citizenry. Businesses closed, schools were shut down and the population simply decreased. My father was a chiropractor, and he fought against public opinion/stereotypes, insurance companies and the standard medical profession for 25 years. Aroostook County continued to limp on without a lifeline, but growth and stability were fading memories. I grew up thinking that I could make a difference because so many people around me were appreciative of my patronage. Born to support lost causes and failing ideas, I naturally thought my experience represented the status quo. As everything around me crumbled and began to deteriorate, I remained defiant by maintaining faith in the natural course of events, and optimism guided my decisions to support local business and independent thought.
As I write this, Aroostook County is dead. My hometown, Presque Isle, was once the artery of a vast logging and potato industry. Now, boarded up cinemas and businesses fester while jobs scamper away like fleeing mice from a flaming building. Amazingly, I refuse discouragement. I still fight for lost causes everyday and attempt conversions to my point of view. Post modernism sucked this fight out of most of the populace and entertainment keeps the rest occupied, but I suffered Aroostook County salvation. Nothing discourages me to the point of quitting because I personally witnessed the destruction of an entire community. I will not be the savior by any means, but nor will I relent in my discourse against the apathetic quicksand that demoralizes our youth and justifies our elders. Impossibilities inherent in the words "lost cause" construct mentalities that destroy confidence in dramatic change and support apathy in every way. If hope means naivete and conviction means pipe dream, then we are lost. Dreaming about a future free from boundaries on thought and discussion should not be seen as dangerous or taboo, but embraced as a treasure to the collective human experience.