Preston Xanthopoulos: Standing with our friends in Maine against a New York snob

I’m not in the habit of mocking or ridiculing a nonagenarian, but New England is a family and just like in a family, we states can make fun of each other, but you better not bring it from the outside, especially not New York, without expecting a unified whack back from Patriots and Red Sox Nation.

Ninety-two-year-old New York Post columnist and gossip girl, Cindy Adams, recently did what I’m quite sure she perceived as a high-brow, comedic “review” of a vacation she took in Maine.

I can imagine her clacking away on her vintage Hermes 3000 typewriter, laughing haughtily at her wit, obsessing over the keister sizes of people in Maine and fantasizing how she can share her mocking contempt for the people of the Pine Tree State over shaken Martinis at Jean-Georges — the fancy restaurant housed in her friend Donald Trump’s Tower — while her Yorkies sit tucked at her feet donning dead weasel coats in dog-carry-bags made from baby sheep. (Sables, her preferred fur for her dogs, are basically just weasels.)

Yes, she’s got a serious obsession with your butts, my dear cousins to the north. In her bizarrely unnecessary column, she mentioned your rear-ends on three separate occasions. My eyes are up here, Cindy!

"Locals whose behinds overlap the state of Texas all stuffed into shorts; Realtors could establish an entire campsite on the average ass; There’s not enough fabric on NYC’s Seventh Avenue to cover any local behind.”

For a lady with more plastic surgery than your friend Joan Rivers had, you've got a weird fixation ridiculing other people's appearances. Speaking of Ms. Rivers, she liked Maine.  Before performing there in 2013 she’s quoted in a newspaper referring to it as, “Sweet, darling, tranquil Maine.” That's more like it, Joan.

The written tripe mocked how people in Maine dress and the lack of white table cloths. Why would you put a white table cloth down in front of me before I rip my lobster open like a tiger who hasn’t eaten in three days? How about the clam juice and butter drippage that is inevitable between the dip cups and my mouth while eating steamers? White tablecloth? Amateur.

Dear, sweet and oh so condescending Cindy also takes a completely out-of-left-field swipe at Oklahoma (not a New England cousin, so, you’re on your own Oklahoma), after pretentiously listing her world travels and somehow letting readers know she was willing to low-brow it, forgoing her usual Peruvian first-class trip to hang with the peons of Vacationland. Hey, Cindy, it is literally called Vacationland, because people vacation there. You’re not unique, my dear.

She rattled off some famous people that are “from here but they aren’t here” to imply they wouldn’t want to be there, and included George Bush and Stephen King. A) Stephen King IS there, he lives in Portland. B) George Bush is not “from” there, his family had a vacation home there, and he's not there now because he died in 2018. Your fellow New Yorker and reported “bestie,” Judge Judy Sheindlin owns homes in Connecticut, Florida, California and Wyoming. When you take a luxurious, first-class trip to Wyoming, let me know what you think of where Judge Judy is “from."

Apparently, Mainers were pleasant with her as she writes, “Mainers, maybe ecstatic just to see anyone, are friendly.”  That’s what you say to people you acknowledge were “friendly” to you? No, (insert patronizing adjective), Cindy, I’ve spent a lot of time in Maine, it’s one of our absolute favorite places to visit. Want to know why? Because the people are ALWAYS friendly. The idea you would automatically presume the reason for kindness is anything but kindness itself proves … well, it proves you’re a New Yorker.

So as you noted, you climbed back into your BMW “to get back to civilization and New York.” Who is so insecure about your self worth, you think you have to note you drive an expensive car to get people to like you or admire you, or something? I drive a Kia and my poodles like me just fine, probably because I don't make them wear coats made out of their cousins. (Weasels and dogs are cousins in the order of “Carnivora” and yes, see above.)

To my cousins in Maine, I will quote a fellow Granite Stater John Irving, from his book, “Cider House Rules” (that’s an actual author, Cindy, not one of we inconsequential columnists), “Goodnight you princes of Maine, you kings of New England.” The 603 has your back.

If anyone finds out if Ms. Cindy is coming to your great state again, let us know. She has to drive through us to get to you and we will line up in our flannels, “crappy sweaters” and “L.L. Bean Jeans” on overpasses across the highways, just to get her eyes burning a bit before she sees you “friendly” folk.

Alicia Preston Xanthopoulos is a former political consultant and member of the media. She’s a native of Hampton Beach where she lives with her family and three poodles. Write to her at PrestonPerspective@gmail.com.

This article originally appeared on Portsmouth Herald: Standing with our friends in Maine against a New York snob