When we finally crossed the border into New Hampshire, it was like we’d passed through the Brandenberg Gate. We were free. In fact, the licenses plates even insist on it. New Hampshire is beautiful too, but you can tell they actually believe in things like freedom and commerce there. There was just something a bit less managed, planned, directed about the Granite State when compared to the Green Mountain State. Jessica insists that Vermont is the East Coast’s version of Oregon. Since Vermont came first, I think it should be the other way around. Nevertheless, I think she’s right. Both states subscribe to scenic socialism, a desire to keep things pretty by keeping the undesirables out. As Jess kept saying, “there’s got to be a reason so few people live in a state this pretty.” (She’s right barely a half million people live in Vermont, which means that Howard Dean wants to run a country with less experience than that afforded to most mayors of mid-size cities.). I’m sure I’m being unfair to literally dozens of Vermonters, but with very few exceptions they strike me as Canadians, only mean. In fact, all the time I drove through Vermont I kept thinking of that old Star Trek with the space hippies who were searching for a mythical Eden planet. They found their beautiful Eden world, but the spectacular fruit and flowers were all poisonous and anyone who bit into them died. I don’t think that holds true for Vermont, but I’ll use New Hampshire maple syrup all the same.