Facebook posts are pointless and worse, sometimes generate responses which must be responded to in turn or ignore them and appear cowardly. There is no escape. Plus, as the Voices insist, the world is desperately needing to hear what I (they) have to say. Or so they would have you believe. I am an innocent bystander, a mere conduit for their ravings. As a [not] great [not] leader once said – “I’m not responsible.” Also “I can do anything I want.”

As for the “Easternmost Fred” part, those of you who are familiar with DownEast Maine know that we have an Easternmost Potter, Easternmost Pubs, Easternmost just about anything. And of course we have an Easternmost town, Easternmost city, Easternmost point, and probably Easternmost squirrel. So why shouldn’t I be the Easternmost Fred? Thus far I’ve had no challenges, and if I do and they actually are east of me, I can always further qualify the title. That’s the thing about superlatives; there’s always a way to dispute them and qualify them and anyway – how can you be Easternmost of anything on a round planet? Or as Ambrose said – “just keep walkin’ ”

What will appear here is hard to predict. Isn’t that the nature of a blog? Yes, there will be nature, and sea stories, and air stories, and philosophy and poetry and pictures or maybe I’ll lose interest and it will stagnate for years, as my aviation web site, avialantic.com is doing. My intention, of course, is to overhaul that site while still promoting music on cobscookbaymusic.com and whatever else attracts my attention.

Digging through my physical archives, it occurred to me that I’m more likely to die of dust inhalation than covid. So maybe I’ll work in some cleaning too.