After a pretty decent breakfast, we checked out of the Inn, and headed on the 2 hour drive to Bangor. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we drove 2 hours out of our way solely so I could go see Stephen King's house. Now, my obsession with Stephen King is probably unusual for someone with a degree in English, but so are my rather lacking grammar skills. Don't judge. But really, when people ask, "who is your favorite author," they are usually expecting something like James Joyce. Gag me. I don't know how many classes I sat through where the professor asked us to name our favorite book and 50 percent of the class said To Kill a Mockingbird and 40 percent said The Great Gatsby and the remaining 10 percent was split between equally absurd answers and the rare original one. It isn't that I don't think those books are amazing works of literature and I'm not doubting that they are truly enjoyed and loved and maybe quite a few people's favorite books. I'm just saying, having known some of these people fairly well, knowing that they sparknoted their way through The Great Gatsby and everything else we read (not judging, I did my fair share of sparknoting), and hearing their intense arguments over Edward vs. Jacob, I highly doubt those were their favorite novels of all time. Given the choice between reading Twilight and Ulysses, they'd choose Twilight every time. Given that choice, I might even choose Twilight.
So my point, if I had one, is that pop literature is ok to love, no matter how much canonical literature you read. I think I might be justifying to myself here. Anyway, I've loved Stephen King since I was at least 13. I've got a nice little collection of his books and I cried more than a little when The Dark Tower series ended. Since I blame him for my desire to go to Maine at all, it was only fitting that we visited his house while there.
Bangor wasn't much to see in the way of anything, though his neighborhood had gorgeous homes. I'm not sure where all those people worked or what they did for fun, except visit the 8 pizza restaurants which seemed to be the only thing to eat in the area. Seeing his house was awesome and uncomfortable, as the neighbors were out, and I'm sure I looked a little bit crazy standing in front of his gate with my thumbs up. Not to mention, someone was clearly home, as the driveway gate was open and there was a Mercedes Benz parked by the house. Oh Stephen, did you see me? We also found a camera charger at the camera shop a few blocks from his house. Best guess, SK has been there. We're so tight we shop at the same places.
So without further ado, I give you, Stephen King's house...
*sigh*
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