If you’ve read this blog over time, you know how I love Maine (though not its recent vote on gay marriage). Maine is a rugged, magical place, and I have visited many times over the years, usually as a guest of my dear college friend Michael and his younger brother Danny (who was my BF for four years). Michael and Danny grew up in Portland. They also have a family house on Sebago Lake, a picture-perfect vision of wooded Maine. Heaven on earth.
If you fly to Maine, you’ll likely being flying into the state’s largest airport: The Portland International Jetport, aka PWM. I’ve never known which part of that title I find more ridiculous … the “International” or the “Jetport.” Talk about an airport with a complex.
The other day Michael sent me the above clipping from the Boston Globe, announcing the suspension of international flights to and from the Portland International Jetport. Sad yes, but as partial salve, the airport still welcomes planes with jets. For now.