I was rather late to the Mac owners’ guild, at least by my friends’ standards; I started with one of the Luxo Jr.-style iMac G4s with the round base and the flat panel in April 2002, during my first year of college. Now of course I’d used Macs before I’d entered college; some of my first experiences with computers were on Apple IIe boxes in my elementary school’s computer lab, playing really basic games in green pixels on a black screen with nothing but a 5 1/4″ floppy drive. Through middle and high school I worked on a bunch of computers through my school’s technology clubs and programs, and for my junior and senior year in high school, I took some time in an independent study to refurbish Power Macintoshes with a goal of supplying each classroom in the building with a computer with OS 7.6. Through this love of tinkering, I entered college thinking computer science was a natural choice. I still use the concepts I learned in those first C++ classes every day.

The big shift

But after I set that iMac on my dorm room’s desk, something happened. I started looking at more than just the code. I studied how things looked and worked. If it didn’t make sense, I wasn’t happy with it. It wasn’t enough for me to go from point A to point B in a program – you had to get there well. You had to get there and enjoy the experience. Now of course, this kind of thing didn’t make sense to a lot of the computer people around me at the time; computers are supposed to help us get something done, so who cares how it works as long as it works?

Eventually I switched to new media to investigate some of these other facets of technology, and I ended up graduating with a degree in new media and minors in computer science and psychology.

I never noticed it until a few days ago, but there’s a strange correlation between the time I’ve used Macs and the time I studied design, usability, and how technology feels. And though I’m still technically a coder both by title and occupation, my true love has really grown into this analysis of how things work, how they’re used, and in a similar vein, how we can use technology to do things we’d never imagined possible.

Time travel

I have no real interest in time travel. I doesn’t really care to see what life was like when dinosaurs roamed the earth, and I don’t really want to see how life will be two hundred or a thousand years from now. I like living where I am and seeing where it goes on its own. But if there’s one journey I’d make, I’d take my iPad back to around 1950. I’d like to show those people what we can do: the power we hold in our hands with a magical web that connects all of us, and this device I hold in my hands. I’d show them that this machine, lighter than most books, can access an almost infinite amount of information as well as being used for drawing, used for reading, used to hear and see entertainment, used to see a friend’s face in real time from across the country or the world. I’d like to see their reaction, and I’d want them to guess the time from which I came. I think a lot of them might expect the 2300s or 2400s. I’d love to see what they would say when I told them we’d have all this power, all this possibility, in our hands in less than a century.

Now of course, Steve Jobs isn’t solely responsibly for my shift to design and usability, and he’s not solely responsible for the technology we hold in our hands that would baffle and mystify those living just a few decades ago. But more than any other single person, Steve showed us that it’s good to push the expectations of what is necessary and possible.

I respected a lot about Steve. I respected his taste, his refinement, his eye for a good idea. I loved the way he thought through a product and wasn’t satisfied with anything less than the best.

I’m just glad I was alive to see everything that’s happened over the last decade, and I’m excited to see where we go next. Above all, it’s safe to say that if there’s one person in my lifetime I see as an inspiration, it’s Steve. Thanks for all you did, both for the world and for me.

A bunch of people always ask why I spend so much time taking photos of the dance shows here. The simple answer: I love it. I’ll take as much time as I possibly can spare to watch dances, plays, and concerts. I love the passion, the creativity, and, in the case of dance, the athleticism and artistry.

But there’s a larger reason, too. We’re at a great time for the arts for central Maine. There’s a core, devoted group of people who are trying to do everything possible to create a vibrant arts community in the area. Ten years ago, nobody would think that we’d be able to bring top-tier acts to the Bangor area. This year, we have Lady Antebellum, B.B. King, and many more visiting the Bangor waterfront. The Folk Festival brings 100,000 people each August to appreciate music from all around the country. Bangor area theatres are packed for amazing productions.

The dancers down the hall are doing their part. Over the past few years, I’ve met many of them in one way or another, and they all love to perform and love to push the envelope of what they can do. They’ve brought the dance program forward, and they’ve brought dance outside the auditorium to the stages of UMaine and beyond.

I bring my camera not only because there are hundreds — if not thousands — of beautiful shots within each performance, but also because I want to capture all of this as it happens. I want to embrace the creativity and innovation that’s happening every day around me in any way I can.

Maine — and the world — is changing, and I want to be there. I may not be one of the dancers down the hall, but like each of them, I can’t stand still.

So when I looked at last year’s candidates, I was struck by the difference in opinion of how things should be done. One side seems to stress the potential of Maine that’s usually used in tourism materials: a beautiful, open, free state with lots of possibilities for recreation and for a great way of life. The other side seems to think that the solution for the state’s problems is near-completly business-centric, in that if we make it easy for business to come and stay here, the state will end up back on track.

I love Maine businesses, and I’m quite happy to say that we have more than a few really successful businesses in our state. But the problem with encouraging business unconditionally is that it impedes on the characteristics of Maine that make it special and unique. Over the first few weeks of LePage’s administration, I’ve realized that I was on track with my thoughts last year; while I honestly believe that LePage wants what is best for the state of Maine, I see his approach as misguided and short-sighted.

My biggest fear of the LePage administration is that they believe the ideal state of Maine is the political equivalent of Marden’s. They’d stress that a philosophy like that would make it easy and inexpensive to do business. Don’t get me wrong – I love Marden’s. But if you were planning a week’s vacation, would you want to spend it at Marden’s? I want to be sure that the promise of Maine as a unique state that offers attractions that nobody else can isn’t lost in a quest for rock-bottom prices and the ideal business climate. There’s plenty of space to build a landfill on Old Orchard Beach, but nobody likes to sunbathe on trash.

Maine can be a state that moves forward and embraces the future, or we can go back and try to live in the past. I want my rugged coastline. I want my trails through the woods. I want my neighbors to be free and equal and lead the life they should have the privilege to lead. I want my Maine to be an example to the rest of the world. I want my Maine to move forward instead of sliding back.

(I’d also recommend reading this article by Perry B. Newman in The Forecaster.)

The flaw with the parking lot state of mind is that I always build upon a collection of ideas. It’s tough for me to focus. I’m impatient about what I want to do, and I have more-than-a-handful of projects that I want to do right now. Problem is, instead of actually doing enough work on any one project to make something, none of them ever reach a point of “doneness.”

One of my overall goals for 2011 is to move my mind from the clouds to the track. Right now I have eight projects I really want to do; two and a half of them you know (Sephone, Pine Tree Photography, and Another New World), and five and a half of them you don’t (yet). This year, instead of racing back and forth between them all in my mind, I’m going to try a schedule. I’m going to try to work for a while on one, and hopefully its progress or completion will make it easier for me to work on another. I’m going to resist the temptation to do them all right now and try my hardest to focus.

Along the way, I’ll probably write a bit here about what I’m doing to keep my mind on track instead of in the clouds for these projects. Hopefully it will help to make 2011 a great year for the projects I want to do.

Much of the controversy that erupted after the shooting stemmed from a post by Sarah Palin last March in which Giffords was one of twenty senators quite literally put in the crosshairs of a fundraising map; Palin also encouraged supporters to “reload” on Twitter that same day.

There are really two separate issues in play here. Most criticism seems to be focus on whether Palin’s map contributed to the motives of the shooter and whether Palin should be accountable for his actions. Just as important, I’d argue, was whether the map was a good idea in the first place.

Many people (including a number of Palin supporters) have argued over the last 24 hours that the shooter was clearly unstable and, even if he cites Palin’s map as a motivation for carrying out the act, couldn’t possibly have interpreted the map as it was intended by Palin. It’s a good point; no sane person would ever gun down a representative in a crowd and kill innocent people, among whom were a federal judge and a nine-year-old girl. Was the shooting the fault of Palin or other politically-charged figures, like Giffords’s opponent last year who felt it was a good idea to hold a campaign event to “target” Giffords in which supporters could shoot an M16? No. They can’t be held accountable for the actions of crazy individuals.

But was the map a good idea in the first place? As Giffords herself said in March, there are “consequences” to energized and polarizing speech. Was it really necessary, and does it help advance political discourse in this country? Conservatives have no shortage of material to use when appealing to those who disagree with the liberal agenda. Escalating partisanship to its current levels will inevitably lead to an increase in violence; as Paul Krugman writes, “violent acts are what happen when you create a climate of hate.”

Palin’s team conceded, in essence, that the map was in poor taste when they removed the page with the map from its original location shortly after the shooting yesterday. The question we face is whether this tragedy will cause us to reconsider how candidates appeal to their supporters; will it encourage them to be civil and respectful about those who hold elected office, or will we continue down the path to turbulent black-and-white politics?

Music is a huge part of my life. I carry my iPod with me everywhere I go, and it seems as though I always have some kind of track playing in the background when I work. My taste is a bit eclectic, but I thought it’d be interesting to go through my top music for 2010. (And yes, I know some of these tunes were released before last year, but I discovered or purchased all of these within the last twelve months.) Preview almost all of the songs listed below with the AmazonMP3 player to the right (the tracks in there and the album links below are affiliate links).

Beat the Horse, Pomplamoose
If you’re not sick of hearing me talk about Pomplamoose yet, I don’t know where you’ve been. The star YouTube duo films every instrument and vocal track they use for a tune and then stitches them all together into a video that’s as well-produced as the song itself. “Beat the Horse,” one of their earlier works, is hands-down my favorite song – and this is the first time I’ve ever been able to say that about any single track. It’s a catchy tune with great instrumentation by Jack, some killer vocals by Nataly, and a great video. They do covers, too; if you’re new to the duo, I’d recommend listening to their own arrangements of “Telephone” and “Makin’ Out.”

Rio, Hey Marseilles
I saw Hey Marseilles at the KahBang opener at the Brick Church in August. It was a great venue for their high-energy performance, and it turned out to be one of my favorite memories of the summer. The song manages to include a bunch of my favorite instruments, and I can’t help but beat my hand against something when that drum sounds.

Far Away, Ingrid Michaelson
I’d seen the name “Ingrid Michaelson” appear more than once on Pandora stations, and I finally decided to give her music a serious listen in the early part of the year. I soon realized that a bunch of my friends were also Ingrid fans, and I was able to see her perform at L.L. Bean in Freeport in August. She even gets bonus points (not that she needs them) for spending a bunch of time in Maine and writing “Far Away” about a second life she’d like to live off the coast of the Pine Tree State. Girls and Boys as a whole is a great listen.

Far From Home, The Gabe Dixon Band
The piano is my favorite instrument, and The Gabe Dixon Band rivals Ben Folds as my favorite piano rock artist. After the band’s name kept appearing on my Pandora stations, I thought I should give their self-titled album a try. I’m really glad I did; when I need to rock out, I press play on “Find My Way” or “Till You’re Gone.” The album is now one of my favorites.

16 Military Wives, The Decemberists
I’m a sucker for brass. Take a good beat, add some politically-charged lyrics, and stick a great horn section near the end of the song. I didn’t have a chance. I’m not as much of a Decemberist fanatic as some people I know, but this song is in constant rotation on my five-star iPod playlist. (The video for the song is really fun, too, if you haven’t already seen it.)

Ain’t Nothing Wrong with That, Robert Randolph & the Family Band
Apple and Amazon should really thank the dancers at UMaine for encouraging me to spend money on music over the last few years. I caved in and bought “Ain’t Nothing Wrong with That” after a bunch of awesome people pulled off a little stunt in the Memorial Union in Orono. It joins a growing list of songs by Hellogoodbye, Of Montreal, and others that make me remember some great creativity on campus.

Work It Out, RJD2
Guess what? It’s another find thanks to YouTube. RJD2 paired with artist/dancer Bill Shannon for a pretty creative expression of “Work It Out”; after I saw the video, I had to check out his other music. I love it all. I’d call RJD2′s music mature electronica; it’s music that’s very rhythmic, infused with a host of genres (blues, hip-hop, and more), and keeps you hooked from the moment you start listening.

Maybe True Stories, Lauren O’Connell
Lauren’s another YouTube discovery. She’s a great east-coast-turned-west-coast singer-songwriter who manages to write sometimes fun, sometimes thoughtful, sometimes poignant, but always real lyrics. Her studio albums are terrific (buy The Shakes. really.), and her YouTube versions, created a la Pomplamoose and often with some creative instrument choices, are always a lot of fun. “Maybe True Stories” is my favorite of hers. Lauren’s currently planning to record a new album and has some unique incentives available if you’d like to support her. (For more Lauren check out My Terrible Friend, a duo project with Nataly of Pomplamoose.)

Mr. Blue Sky, The Sing-Off
Amid an over-commercialized sea of American Idol and Glee musical programming, The Sing-Off offered some hope. The show gathered a handful of amazing a capella groups and created some true gems. An ensemble performance of ELO’s “Mr. Blue Sky” rivaled the SoCals’ Journey medley and the Beelzebubs’ The Who medley as my favorites from the first seasons. A capella is truly amazing when done well.

We Used to Wait, Arcade Fire
As a geek I was inspired by Arcade Fire’s super-innovative “We Used to Wait” web “video” released partially as a showcase of the possibilities within HTML5. The tech is great, but the song is even more impressive. It’s fun to crank as I, uh, go the speed limit while driving down I-95.

White Knuckles, Ok Go
I’d known about Ok Go long before 2010, of course, but I became a true fan after hearing that they’d be in Bangor for the KahBang festival in August. The concert was amazing (and included a great view of Damian), and Oh No has been cycling through my ears regularly ever since. When “White Knuckles” hit YouTube in September, amazing got even amazinger.

Overture, Daft Punk
I haven’t seen the new Tron, but after hearing from about 90% of my friends that Daft Punk’s soundtrack to the film was in-freakin-credible, I decided to seize the opportunity of an AmazonMP3 sale and buy it sound unheard. I love film music, and I love Daft Punk (“Robot Rock” is another new favorite of 2010, for completely different reasons). The Tron Legacy soundtrack is what you’d expect to happen if Discovery or Human After All had a lovechild with John Williams and somehow managed to mix in a bit of Danny Elfman. Yeah. Buy the album.

Maine’s a state that doesn’t know what it wants. We know we’re not in a good place right now, but we don’t know how to move forward. Many of our key industries (forest products, shoes, and more) have moved in large part overseas or to more business-friendly locales in North America. On top of that, we’re an aging state, and many of the people my age leave the state in order to find better jobs in places where the kind of jobs we want are more available.

Now look at this year’s gubernatorial race. The three serious contenders for the office have either worked in politics for decades or, in the case of LePage, help run a business that screams “old Maine.” Compared with the 2008 national election during which two charismatic forty-somethings – relative newcomers in politics – took center stage, the policies raised in Maine’s gubernatorial race make it seem like we’re stuck in the past.

Vision for the future, however, isn’t dependent on youth. Unfortunately, this year’s candidates seem to believe that we can find success by tweaking the Maine of yesteryear. We can shrink government. We can consolidate and reorganize schools. Those proposals don’t encourage students to stay in Maine after they’ve graduated. They don’t encourage businesses to be innovative and try new ways of making money. They’re just a way to console voters by saying, “We know it’s rough. But we’ll change some things, and it’ll be better.”

Our next governor needs to look beyond our past to find the solutions to the state’s problems. We need to encourage and invest in new ways of attracting new kinds of business to Maine. We need to support our wonderful tourism industry and allow people to visit our state easily and frequently. We need to support biotechnology, genetics, wind power engineering, call centers, and telecommuting. We have a beautiful state with a great way of life, and we need to use that to our advantage in every way we can.

Above all else we need to encourage young people to stay in the state after they graduate high school and college. We can reform our government and educational system all we want, but Maine can not keep losing its children. If we don’t encourage youth in our state, it will continue to grow harder to foster innovation and the change we need in Maine.

I’m a 27-year-old lifelong Mainer, and I was very disappointed by the choices in this year’s gubernatorial race. If we’re going to move Maine forward, a change in residency in the Blaine House isn’t going to be enough. We all need to do our part to make Maine better.

I voted for Cutler. What’s your list look like?

The month of November is National Novel Writing Month, known as NaNoWriMo. People who take part in NaNoWriMo strive to write a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30. A few of my friends on Twitter are trying it out, and I wish them the best of luck. It’s a great challenge; as many writers say, the best way to improve your writing is to practice as much as you can.

I’ve never been much of a novel writer, though. One of my English teachers in high school told me that I did my best when writing concisely; I really struggle whenever I have to write anything over ten pages. I also haven’t written any real fiction since high school.

I might not have the determination to do NaNoWriMo, but I want to focus on writing in November. I’ve decided that I want to make it my goal to write something – anything – of at least 250 words every day in the month. It’s my EvDaWriMo, or every day of writing month. I might write a blog post over on our newly refreshed Sephone blog, a post at Another New World, a post here, or something on a couple of other ideas I have. I might even write some fiction. I’m not sure yet whether I’ll share everything I write, but the important part is that I just want to focus on writing for a bit.

Let’s go write!

Turns out I need a computer to fit a very specific need. I’m working from home a lot more, and while I like the peace and quiet that it provides, sometimes I feel the need to actually see people every once in a while. I needed a computer with:

• Great battery life (at least 6-8 hours, for a full day of work)
• Very portable (so that I don’t need to lug around a backpack)
• Multitasking (so I can check Twitter e-mail while I work)
• A command line interface (for Subversion and server management)
• A keyboard (for long stretches of typing and keyboard commands)
• A low price tag (just in case I lose the thing; I grabbed the netbook on Newegg for under $200 shipped)

Normally I’d use my iPad out on the road. It actually features everything I’ve listed above in one way or another, but it’s an ideal machine for coding. Sure, there’s Gusto and command line apps. And Apple’s Bluetooth keyboard is pretty convenient to carry around, too; I brought it along on my trip to Acadia yesterday. It just wouldn’t work well for a full day of code, though. I need commands running in the background, multiple documents opened at once… using the iPad would kill my zone. The netbook has the added benefit of having Windows 7 (as well as Linux, once I install it), giving me a physical computer I can use to test sites on Internet Explorer instead of using Parallels on my iMac.

So yes, I bought a netbook. But I want it to be clear that I bought it for a very specific reason. If you’re an average user who spends 80% of your time on the web and reading e-mail, buy an iPad instead. I’ve had mine for six months, and I still absolutely adore it. It’s a case of different tools for different jobs; a netbook’s what I need for what I do as a geek, but for the things everyday users do with computers, I hands-down believe that devices like the iPad are the future.

That mantra has led to trouble sometimes. Some people say I write about geek things too much, and I can understand what they mean. That’s one of the big reasons why I created Another New World a couple years ago; I wanted a place where I could focus on my tech interests without completely boring my normal (non-techie) friends here. For everything else, though, I write what I want to write.

And then there’s Twitter. Twitter’s a strange beast. I love writing on it, and it’s delightfully random. I want to write whatever I want, whenever I want, but at the same time I know how annoying it can be to follow someone who does exactly that to an extreme.

With that in mind, I’ve decided to try an experiment. I’ve created a second account called @justinaddition that will catch all the excess passion, in a sense. I’ll probably use it a lot during live events (like an Apple keynote or a gubernatorial debate, for instance) and really any other time I feel like it, too.

If you enjoy bursts of random rambling, I’d check out @justinaddition. If you’d like a tamer Justin Twitter experience, the tweet count over on @justinrussell will keep going up. Follow one! Follow both! The choice is yours.

The issue of LePage’s tax history – like that of Cutler’s residency – may not turn out to affect the election in any meaningful way. Even so, they’re still reasonable questions to raise. Is Paul LePage sick of the question? Obviously. But that doesn’t mean that the questions will stop. One of the responsibilities of an elected official (or his representatives) is to control the message and answer relevant questions when they arise.

The obvious spin on this story would be that the press ambushed LePage with a question he deemed unimportant. Granted, the Maine media isn’t exactly perfect, as we’ve seen this weekend and as we’ve seen previously. They do have a tendency to focus on issues of lesser importance, and they sometimes linger on those issues.

So why is this bump on the campaign trail important at all? It’s all about the message it sends about a possible LePage governorship. Will he shy away from questions or refuse to answer those that aren’t to his liking while in office? How can we trust a state leader who doesn’t respond to questions that he doesn’t feel are appropriate? A governor has to address the criticism of the state and use that feedback in a productive way to best govern the state’s interests. If he denies any discourse with the press or with his constituents, his governorship won’t be a valid representation of the people. That’s not how to lead a state government.

I’ve found that my quest to find a good direction (or two) revolves around big questions about the world and how changes in our lives will affect us in the future. Lately I’ve realized that I want to know what big questions other people have, too; maybe we can find some way to approach them together.

Here are a few of the questions that rattle around in my mind quite a bit.

• How can we learn to recognize bias and motives while at the same time encouraging research and reducing mistruths in news and other communication?
• How do we balance an increasingly documented and data-centric world with our need and rights to privacy?
• How can we encourage people to understand others’ points of view, even if they don’t agree with them?
• How does our changing view of friendship as a result of social networking and other tools affect interpersonal skills and our relationships in physical space?
• What’s the best way to approach law and government in a way that does not infringe on anyone’s religious beliefs or rights?
• How can we make waste reduction (including packaging reduction, recycling, etc.) a priority for normal people?
• What’s the best way to balance our energy needs with the risks associated with more productive forms of power generation?

Of course, you’ll probably notice a few common threads in those questions; those threads are my passions. Your questions will probably have some shared central ideas, too.

I’d love to hear what you think are the big questions that should be discussed and debated. If you feel comfortable sharing them publicly, leave a comment or send me a note on Twitter. If you’d rather share privately, shoot me an email. Hopefully we can build a discussion from there.

More of my American Folk Festival photos are on Flickr, of course.

One of the aspects that I especially love is the culture of collaboration within the YouTube ecosystem. A great example is Pomplamoose, a duo consisting of Nataly Dawn and Jack Conte. I’ve heard the name thrown around a number of times before, but for some reason I never watched their videos. That changed tonight, and I’ve been listening to their originals and their covers all night.

When I look back at a lot of the things I like on YouTube, I notice that a lot of them are collaborations in some form or another (OK Go and the Notre Dame Marching Band, Julia Nunes and Ben Folds, Molly Lewis and Jonathan Coulton…). It’s wonderful to see that people are able to join together and share an interest and passion in something.

Most of the ideas I’ve been planning and starting lately happen to be collaborations, too. Collaborations are great for the kinds of projects I like to do; the projects are often too big for one person to do solo, and it really helps to have another set of eyes and another body of talent available while you’re working. You’re able to explore different interests with different people, and the passion you share really shines in the end product.

I can’t wait to see how they turn out.

A couple of months ago, the folks down at Chimani, a Maine mobile development company, asked me to write a review of their Acadia National Park app. They sent me a promo code so that I could download it for free, take a look, and do my trademark rambling about it.

Frequent readers of my blog should realize by now that I really enjoy visiting Acadia. It’s one of my favorite areas of the world, and in fact I’m writing this post while sitting on top of Cadillac Mountain on my iPad. I wanted to write a fair review of the app, so I’ve brought it with me to the park three times since I downloaded it in June. I can honestly say that Chimani’s Acadia app has improved my trips to Acadia.

The first thing you’ll notice about the Acadia app is its comprehensiveness. If you want to know something about Acadia, chances are it’s in the app: hiking trails, ranger events, parking, and much more. Many of the most popular spots have in-depth descriptions as well as additional helpful information (for example, Thunder Hole’s info page has a link to the tide charts for the day so that you can see the best times to visit). I’ve learned a ton about the park in the last couple of months through the app, including new places to visit and bits of history about some of my favorite spots.

One of my favorite features is the built-in Island Explorer schedules. The Island Explorer is a fleet of free-with-park-fee buses that follow routes around the island. The app provides you with route information as well as upcoming times for individual stops. It even calculates how much time you’ll have at a stop before the next bus arrives.

As a developer myself, I really appreciate the extra touches they’ve put in throughout the app. The in-app auto tour features audio versions of each spot’s summary, making it really easy to follow along with the tour. The included map is incredible as well; it puts a marker on all the spots for a number of relevant points (parking, trail heads, etc.) on a zoomable map of Mount Desert Island that works just like the iPhone’s included Maps application. The search on the home page allows you to quickly find anything you need within the application as well.

Granted, the app does have a few downsides. It’s a hefty app, weighing in at around 260 MB; that’s by far the largest app on my iPod touch. That size is put to good use with all the stored information, photos, and audio within the app, but it does slow down syncing when an new update comes down the line. It’s a fairly new application, so there are still a few bugs to work out (for example, the app doesn’t seem to show any afternoon times for one of the Island Explorer routes). I’ve noticed a few usability quirks and some crashes, too, but the app is constantly being revised and I’m sure it will continue to be improved in coming releases.

So should you buy the app? If you’re heading to Acadia for a weekend and just want to hit the well-traveled spots (Thunder Hole, Sand Beach, and the Jordan Pond House, for example), you might find a bus tour or a simple drive around the Park Loop Road suits your needs. If you’re a serious traveler who wants to spend some time and truly explore and experience the park, or if you’re someone like me who displays his annual Acadia pass on his windshield with pride, then there’s no question that you should buy Chimani’s Acadia app. It’s well worth the price.

Thanks to Chimani for letting me play around with the app. If you’ll excuse me, the sun’s about to set over Blue Hill. According to the app, sunset is at 7:57. I have to go.

I spent Friday through Sunday traveling to Boston and Manchester, NH. It was an incredible weekend of music, food, and fun. I’ll try to make the length of this post shorter than the weekend itself – but it might be a close call.

The music

The initial reason for my trip was a concert in Somerville’s Davis Square, just outside Boston. The performer? Jonathan Coulton.

I enjoy a wide enough variety of music that answering the classic “who’s your favorite artist?” question is pretty difficult for me. There’s a good chance you’ve never heard of JoCo, but I believe he’d be the artist at the top of my list of favorites. He performs catchy, smart, and geeky music with topics ranging from zombies to Laika, the first dog in space (and pretty much everything in between).

Usually a JoCo show consists of nothing more than Coulton and his guitar (and often the hilarious duo of Paul and Storm). That was the case when I saw him in concert back in November 2008. This time, the envelope was pushed; he added bass and drums to his act for two Massachusetts shows. I knew I didn’t want to miss that.

My good friends Ian and Kelley also said they’d like to go, and coincidentally the concert happened to fall on their son Mannix’s birthday. The concert was Mannix’s first “grown-up” concert, and there couldn’t have been a better choice. He clapped along to “Shop-Vac” and apparently sang the “all we want to do is eat your brains” line of “Re Your Brains” all the way home. His face lit up when Coulton played “Skullcrusher Mountain,” a song he’d heard and loved while riding around with Ian and Kelley in the car.

The concert itself was great. Jonathan played some songs solo and really rocked the songs that were backed with drums and bass. He also played a half-dozen new songs, most of which I expect to be stuck in my brain for quite a bit of time to come. The set included a couple of my favorite JoCo tunes that I’d never heard live: “Blue Sunny Day” and “Big Bad World One.” (I’ve uploaded a few videos of the show, and there are many more online as well.)

After the concert, the four of us waited around in the beautiful Somerville Theatre. Jonathan came back out while the crew packed up equipment, and he was nice enough to take a photo with Mannix. (JoCo is a dad himself; if you’re a parent, I think you might appreciate “You Ruined Everything.”)

The venue was perfect for the show: fairly large, but intimate. It was a great experience and a great performance by a great artist. You can’t beat a theatre full of people singing along with every word of “Skullcrusher Mountain.” That’s nothing short of magical.

The food

Over the course of three days, I ate meals in seven cities around Maine, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire.

Before the concert on Friday, I met up with my friend Melody in Cambridge to eat at Picante in Central Square. I had a great chicken burrito along with one of the many salsa options they offered at the restaurant.

On Sunday morning I went with Ian, Kelley, and Mannix to IHOP. I normally don’t mention chains when reviewing food, but I have to say, the stuffed French toast with strawberries, hash browns, and eggs has been pretty tough to forget.

The highlight of Saturday’s dining were the “never-melting ice cream cones” Kelley had made for Mannix’s birthday party. These cupcakes-in-cones were dangerously addictive, and they might find their way onto a menu of my own.

The fun

One of my favorite parts about Boston trips is the subway. I bought a one-day pass at Alewife and spent a fair portion of the afternoon cruising around on the Red and Green Lines. My first stop was Prudential. My original destination was the Apple Store, but I ended up spending a bit of time in the beautiful Christian Science Plaza.

After taking some photos, I headed down Boylston to the large glass-fronted store. There I was ecstatic to find a Camera Connection Kit for my iPad (I wasn’t patient enough to endure the 2-6 week delay on Apple’s site). I tried it out later in the weekend, and although it’s not exactly the same as my desired iPad functionality for photos, it’s a pretty darn good match.

The weather was beautiful, so I decided to skip the Green Line (my least favorite branch of the T) and walk down Boylston to Park Street. It was a really nice walk, even though it started to sprinkle a bit. I stopped at Au Bon Pain for a sandwich and resisted the lovely pastries that tempted my senses on the way into the store.

The weather didn’t cooperate quite so much when I emerged from the Red Line at Kendall Square. I managed to walk to Central and pick something up for Mannix’s party at the MIT Museum, but the rain had started to fall as I realized that I didn’t quite know Cambridge as well as I’d hoped. I found my way, but by the time I reached Central my shirt was drenched.

It’s pretty interesting to watch people in a city react to rain, though. In Maine we just go to our cars. In Boston people either find shelter or walk faster.

Mannix’s Willy Wonka birthday party on Saturday was a lot of fun, too. It even included a bounce house and, of course, Ian and I needed to make sure it worked correctly before we let the kids play around in it. The party was a great time, and the kids seemed to really love the Wonka-themed activities.

On Sunday I hopped back in the car, popped on the iPod (love that car integration), and listened to a couple of podcasts on the way home. These kinds of weekends definitely lead me to want to travel more often.

Mom and I made a batch over the weekend, but we added a bit of a kick: a scoop of cookie dough ice cream on top. I think we found a winner. Once home, I did a bit of experimenting and found that Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked is another great option for a topper.

Both variations of these little suckers have helped me overcome these hot summer days. (Chocolate always seems to have a way of doing that.)

Recently I decided to make one for myself. I’d made a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and, as is often the case, my freezer was stocked with various kinds of ice cream. I chose to up the ante a bit: I replaced the normal vanilla ice cream with some Edy’s Cookies ‘n Cream yogurt. (Note that I used frozen yogurt. That makes this treat healthy, of course.) I melted some chocolate chips and butter together, dipped the sandwiches in, and voila: the JARbor Bar.

Rest assured, I’ll be trying this again. They’re a bit messy at first; it pays to let them sit in the freezer for a while, though it’s tough to resist a taste as you make them. The next time around I’ll probably try freezing the sandwiches first, dipping them in chocolate after the ice cream has frozen up a bit, and then freezing the sandwiches again to minimize meltage. But really, a little bit of a mess is well worth the reward.

I decided to wait a second before heading over to help. The woman grabbed the rock, found a good hold for her foot, and slowly climbed her way to the top of the ledge. Once she reached the top, she brushed her hands together and darted back to her starting point down a gradual slope that I had failed to see. The man followed suit, climbing the rock and then returning to the bottom of the ledge.

I watched the couple for a few minutes and thought about practice. Why do I return to this island after dozens of trips, grasping my camera in my hand even though I know every trail and every rock in some parts of the park?

Photography is my hobby, just as those two enjoy rock climbing. You may know a ledge like the back of your hand, but every time you climb offers you another chance to practice and another chance to take a new route to the top. Yes, I’ve seen Bubble Pond in the past, but I’d never seen a damselfly on a leaf there. That happens every time I’m here.

Every day, every trip, every climb is a new chance to reach where you want to go.