I am aware that Colleen Stone already wrote about red hot dogs. However, she went out for hers, and I grew up eating mine at home. This column is, to a large extent, about (re)visiting Maine institutions with tourist eyes. And it’s about going home.

On the eve of yet another FREAKING NOR’EASTER, I find myself revisiting a few memorable spots in my mind in order to desperately remind myself that summer is, in fact, approaching.

You can’t go home again. Okay, you can…sorta. But be careful what you wish for. I’m just sayin’.

Many spring and summer Saturdays during my high school days found me at The Big Dipper on Rt. 196 in Lisbon Falls. There one could get an insanely large cone of homemade ice cream for $1.50 in Bush 41 money. Back in the day, I could actually finish off a large M&M and think nothing of it. But I’m neigh-on seventeen years removed from high school now. Could I still make it?