In elementary school, we called our 8th graders the “Big Kids,” and we were right. 

We were so right that even decades later, they’re still the biggest kids we’ve ever known.

Let’s meet a few of them, then I’ll tell you a story...

In the 1980s, my grandfather ran blueberry-raking crews in Maine, and I was on the crews, a boy-shaped cork adrift on waves of blue romance.

Minus the romance.

God put a cigarette in my hand when I was a child, just to see what I would do.

Friends, welcome back to Misbehaving In Maine. In this episode, we meet my old insane best friend:

Peter, Peter, the teacher defeater, the no-look leaper, the Church of Kid Immortal preacher.

Watch him go...

This is the story of the day the Earth stood still in Houlton, Maine, the day the students took the high school and showed the Earth what true power sounds like.

And this has been Misbehaving In Maine, season one.

The End.

See you next time, friends. And remember: You may be wicked, you may be weird...

but you're not alone.

If you can get hurt badly enough and scream enough, Mom and Dad just might let you stay home from church.

Try what I did. It worked.

Best of luck, Sunday-morning soldier.

Parents who don’t force musical instruments on their children deny them the profound pleasure of quitting.

What's the first lie you remember believing? Here's mine, and it's about dinosaurs, who else?

I dare you to let my grandfather draw your face. It will make you stronger.

Ironically, my first French kiss happened at a talent show.

Enjoy as I discover that making out with one's hand for practice does not prepare one for the real thing.