We felt obligated to wave back, but it took a while to find the window handle which sat up on the dash apart from its rightful mechanical place. It sat there almost snickering while watching my husband search for a way to turn down the window so he could return the greetings of the friendly islanders. I haven't figured out yet if they really are friendly or if it is just another example of New England dry humor which would get the biggest kick out of knowing how uncomfortable it makes a city person to wave at a complete stranger. Taxi-status elevates you to a level of trust and dependence that has long since been abandoned by anyone in the city. People trust people here and will accept a ride to Ed's grocery, the island library, or especially to the ferry dock without hesitation.
Vehicle make, model, year, or value has absolutely nothing to do with acceptance.
Once we got used to the waving it really wasn't so bad and we decided that people truly are friendly and open on Chebeague. Now when you're in Rome you must do what the Romans do. I have always been fascinated by a marina with its cornucopia of colorful, rusted, and oversized objects that have some useful maritime purpose but are very mysterious to a non-boater. The exploration was as much fun as ever, but the high point of the day was meeting Mr. Bob Dyer, a real live lobsterman. Local folks were surprised when we recounted our meeting with Mr. Dyer.