Last weekend, Mother Nature blessed us with some of the greatest weather we have had in years, so I went for a drive. The air was cool and crisp, the sky clear and bright, leaves turning, giving us a few weeks to enjoy the season before we have to drag the porch furniture into the garage.

On my way back home, I drove past Ms. Pigette, who, as usual, was just holding up her mailbox. But I felt guilty. Well, sort of guilty. So I turned around and pulled into her space and got out of the car. And she started in with a vengeance. “Here,” she said, handing me her phone. “Grab this and put it on your car’s charger. I am out of juice.” I complied.

“Why haven’t you written a bunch of stories plugging my candidacy for the U.S. Senate? You know how hard I have been working, but the other candidates, like that oyster guy, seem to be getting all the pub. Why not give a girl a break? You could call Don Carrigan and the other TV guys. You could call your friend, Jane Pauley, and get me on CBS Sunday Morning.” I told her I hadn’t spoken to Carrigan for a year or so, and as for Janie, the last time I saw her was in 1980 at Madison Square Garden during the Democratic National Convention. I knew her when she was on local Indianapolis TV, but I doubt she remembers me.

Besides, if you want to challenge Sen. Susan Collins, you will have to get attention by yourself. But be warned: I told him. And I gave him the only advice I have ever given to any candidate, whether for Senate or school board. Never, never put your own money into the campaign. If you can’t raise money, you can’t raise votes.

For instance, Graham Platner, a rookie Senate candidate, has somehow scored national airtime by berating billionaires. He says he raised buckets of bucks and acquired the services of a big-time political consultancy gang that somehow shoehorned him into the national spotlight. I messaged him seeking an interview. I wanted to ask him about the money and how he hooked up with the national political firm. His people got back to me and said they would be in touch. So far, I got bupkis, nothing. I guess he is running for the Senate in some other state than Maine. After all, answering questions from an old guy reporter from a little paper in Boothbay Harbor doesn’t seem to be on his radar.

“Why is he getting so much ink?” Ms. P asked. “Because he is making lots of noise,” I said. "And only a tiny percentage of a party’s voters bother to vote in a primary, and they are attracted to the candidate who makes the wildest claims. Look at the contrast. You have Sen. Collins, a sedate, mature Maine woman who has served her constituents for years. Her would-be opponent is a raw oyster farmer who did three tours with the Marines and another with the Army. He attacks her for kowtowing to the wealthy over the ordinary folk who are just getting by as inflation creeps up prices. And he is using tough language, including some words usually reserved for private conversations. Does this verbal bombast show he is tougher than she? Maybe, but she voted to impeach the president of her own party, and that takes guts. Also, she has opposed a number of his administration’s policies. Whatever you think of Collins, she has a political backbone."

"Now the primary election is months away, but sooner or later, the oysterman is going to have to tell us who and what he is for, not just what, and who he is against. But maybe not. Maybe he can just bombast along for the next six months. We’ll just have to wait and see,“ I said.

OK, OK, I get it,” said Ms. P. "But tell me, Mr. old dude who walks with a cane, why have none of you fake news guys called out POTUS when he claimed he stopped seven wars, including the fierce battles between the two nations that began with the letter A? Wasn’t that war between Azerbaijan and Acetaminophen?"

"No, dear. You got it wrong," I told her. "He said he stopped a war between Azerbaijan and Albania. But he got that wrong, too. Albania was never at war with Azerbaijan. Azerbaijan was in conflict with Armenia."

“Oh, well, I guess I got it half right," said Ms. P. "But isn’t POTUS in a squabble with something involving the “A” word? And Acetaminophen is … Oh, never mind,” she said as she grabbed her phone out of my hand.