Last month when Portland Magazine’s 25th Anniversary issue came out, I took the day off from my job at a local bowling alley to aid in distribution. Walking around the Old Port with 50 lb boxes is not usually my idea of a great time, but it’s part of the internship. I was on my last stretch, Exchange Street. I looked down at my checklist of places to stop and drop off magazines, and Hark! Mount Desert Ice Cream! The shop got its start a few years ago in Bar Harbor, where I went to college, and some of my old classmates are running the shop on Exchange. I popped in, and my friend Claire was behind the counter. The ice cream shop was empty. I handed her the magazine and stopped for a bit to chat about a mutual friend’s birthday party and the anthropological value of MTV’s The Jersey Shore. A man and a woman walked through the door, so I respectfully stepped back from the counter so that they could peruse the frozen dairy delicacies.
The patrons looked very familiar, and at first I had trouble placing them. They were both wrapped up in winter coats, hair blown every which way in the cold wind and freezing rain that had alternated throughout the day. The man had dark sunglasses with green rims, but I knew his face! It was Fred Armisen from Saturday Night Live–and coincidentally a little show called Portlandia, which is about the other Portland. And who was the woman? I knew her too. Khloe Kardashian! Well, not actually Khloe Kardashian, but an eerily accurate impersonator, also from Saturday Night Live– Abby Elliott!
I’m a pretty cool-headed person, but I was so surprised running into these two in the Old Port, that I instantly turned into a thirteen-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. I started giggling–not just a surface giggle, but a full-body giggle, where your stomach is trembling and you think that something really weird is about to come out of your mouth, so you clench your jaws so hard that your eyes start to pop out of your head a little bit. I took a deep breath and calmly said, “I’m sorry, you two are so funny. Can I take a picture with you guys?” They politely agreed, and Abby, who had just tried a sample of something probably very delicious, asked where she should put her spoon. I requested that she showcase it in the photograph, and she obliged. I handed them a copy of the magazine and popped outside to call my editor, Karen.
The phone conversation went something like this:
“HI. UH. KAREN. IT’S JEANEE. I’M IN THE OLD PORT AND I WAS IN AN ICE CREAM SHOP AND THERE ARE TWO CAST MEMBERS FROM SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE IN THERE AND I AM DEFINITELY GOING TO ASK THEM QUESTIONS BUT I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO THROW UP SO I HAD TO COME OUTSIDE FOR A SECOND SO I JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW.”
“Jeanee? Are you okay?”
“YEAH. YEAH YEAH.”
“Are they still in the ice cream shop?”
“YES.”
“Go ask them what they’re doing in Portland, what kind of ice cream they got, you know, who they’re visiting. Go get a quote.”
“OKAY. I’M GOING RIGHT NOW.”
…and I hung up.
When I turned around, Fred and Abby were walking out the door of the ice cream shop. They started heading down Exchange towards the waterfront. There was nothing to do but run after them down the sidewalk, still clutching 20 lbs of magazines, a clipboard, and a pen.
I quickly apologized for chasing them around the Old Port, asked a few questions, and then promised to stop following them around yelling about desserts and smiling like Gary Busey (see photo for evidence). We parted ways, and I dropped off a few more magazines before heading back to the office. For a few days, it was mentioned that my photo and might become a Flash; as we did more research and found that her grandfather, Bob Elliott, lived in Harpswell, it became bigger deal and was slated for a Chowder, which was pretty cool. Abby has family in Brunswick–whom she was visiting before I bumped into her. Her dad, comedian Chris Elliott, and granddad, radio humorist Bob Elliott, both own houses in Harpswell, one of which is Maine Senator Margaret Chase Smith’s original resort home. Bob lives up here year-round, and the rest of the Elliott clan visits whenever possible.
And wouldn’t that make for an awesome story? Three generations of hilarity, just up the coast? So I started stalking the Elliott family.
We contacted Abby through her publicist, who was very helpful and set up an interview for us within a week and a half. We got Bob’s number from a mutual friend. And Chris? Bob called him and asked if he could give us his number. Bob was incredibly patient and helpful throughout the few-weeks-long ordeal and really brought the Elliott family story together.
Before each interview, I did research. I watched trailers for Abby’s new movie, The High Road, and every recent episode of Saturday Night Live I could drag out of Hulu and other regions of the Internet. I watched Groundhog Day over and over and over and over and over… I watched Eagleheart, Chris’s new live-action television program on Adult Swim. I listened to old “Bob and Ray” clips and watched Youtube videos of the two in action. It was pretty fun research and was particularly easy to practice at home on my couch with a fistful of cheap pilsner.
After I completed all three interviews, Colin, Karen, and I sat down to talk about formatting. We put the questions and answers together in a style and order that would tell a story to our readers about a place that is very special to Bob, Chris, and Abby. After countless hours of research and editing, it’s in print this week! Who knew toting magazines up and down the streets of the Old Port would result in a forty-page clip!
Jeanee E Dudley