Well, not only is the judicial system in America beautiful, but the landscape of America is likewise drenched with pulchritude. Over Memorial Day weekend I travelled to Bar Harbor, Maine with my family and some catercousins. We hiked in the nationally acclaimed national park of this united nation, Acadia, sauntered along Maine's sole sandy beach (that I am aware of), watched the sun fall from Cadillac Mountain and parambulated down Main St. In addition, we ate blueberries, lobster, looked for a moose and made a weak sauce attempt at meeting someone named Sal. You'll recall, I'm sure, from your youth, the book "Blueberries for Sal," set in Maine. If I had one more comma in that sentence you'd think I was writing this comma-tose. There is something unique about sitting in the sun on a rock looking out over the vast expanse of the ocean doted with lobster buoys, listening to sea bells clanging with the waves; and I think I know what it is. It's a five letter word that begins with P and rhymes with fleece. Yes, you guessed it, Piece. A piece of Heaven, that's what the feeling is (or was it Peace? You decide). It's a feeling of thoughtfullness, serenity, Elyssium and calm. The Ocean is an incredible creature, calm as a summer's morning one day and wicked as a gaggle of mother geese protecting their young the next. If you've never encountered a gaggle of geese protecting their babies, consider wrath like you can't even imagine. All in all, I'd rate Maine and my Memorial Day peregrination with a mighty A-.