Musings on masks — both real and metaphorical — have J.P. Devine thinking about what we choose to wear during the grand production of our lives. 

J.P. Devine recalls how the notion of the male "breadwinner" changed for him at a young age and how women are increasingly stepping up.

As the Maine International Film Festival prepares a move to the Skowhegan Drive-In Theater this year, J.P. Devine remembers the summer night in 1949 when he and others packed into green Chevrolet for a night at the movies.

An agonizing experience at the local car wash presents J.P. Devine with life-and-death choices: roll down the car window for help or stay inside?

Even though we’re told that there will be no fireworks exploding over the Kennebec this summer, fire crackers will still be heard, and children will run around the yard with sparklers, says J.P. Devine.

JP talks about his upcoming expedition to the jungle, as two men in white jackets come to pick him up.

JP Devine has returned to Facebook this spring, probably to keep from writing, but really to see what’s happening to my street friends. He misses them and their interesting side stories.

Thinking about the history of toilet paper, J.P. Devine muses about cleanliness and what sorts of gifts we may now give to each other.

Social distancing leaves J.P. Devine in need of a hug, crowds and companionship.