The Bollard Bulletin for Aug. 3, 2026

August 3, 2026

Troy Jackson
c/o Troy Jackson for U.S. Senate
P.O. Box 3003
Portland, ME 04104

Dear Troy,

Hey, man! Chris Busby here from The Bollard. We’ve never met, but I met your son years ago on The Thirsty Pig’s patio and he seemed like a swell guy. So good job there, and congrats on getting the nod to run for Senate. I’ve become increasingly disillusioned with democracy as a political tool, much preferring a governing model based on consensus and cooperation rather than competition and division, so I was heartened to see you selected not by a divisive vote, but by the informal consensus of Democratic state party delegates. Granted, it’s the consensus of insiders and elites, but it’s a start.

Anyway, I’m writing today with a pitch that I think will put your campaign over the top this fall. It regards the music for your rallies and commercials. I’ve got the perfect guy for the job: Maine roots singer-songwriter and guitarist Travis James Humphrey.

Trav, as regulars call him down at Gritty McDuff’s, where he plays for free every Tuesday night, just released an excellent new album, Home, that has not one, but two tracks practically custom-made for the blue-collar Maine voter of either party or none.

When I first heard the first track, “State of Maine,” at Gritty’s last year, inspiration struck like lightning. “I come from the state of Maine / Ain’t so easy, but it’s worth the pain,” it begins.

Right off the bat, the listener recognizes this is not, as Bono famously declared of “Sunday Bloody Sunday,” a “rebel song.” The narrator knows the quality of life in this state sucks, but he’s willing to suck it up, because that’s simply what Mainers — long associated with Yankee ingenuity and self-reliance — do. This myth has kept the politicians (like you) who are responsible for these sucky conditions out of the wood chipper for two centuries now, so I’m sure you can appreciate the underlying assumption here: life in this frigid backwater is inherently hard, government can only do so much to help, folks need to make their own way, etcetera. Conservatives scarf this stuff up like candy, and you’ll need a bunch of ’em to beat Susan.

The song could double as Trav’s resume for the job of campaign songsmith. It notes that he was born and raised in Maine (up in Houlton, actually, in Aroostook County; your neck of the woods you chop down for a paycheck) and spent eight years in the military (the Air Force, as a bandsman) before coming home, “because the state of Maine is where I belong.” He’s a veteran, Troy! We then get a brief history lesson about Maine’s divorce from Massachusetts and a reminder that well before that, “this was all tribal land / stretching back to when the glaciers ran.”

The next verse really gets me. “When my snowblower broke / my neighbor plowed my yard / We take care of each other when the going’s hard / I think most of us are built that way / More what we do than what we say.” Nevermind the neighbor’s boneheaded blunder (Dude, I thought that was your driveway. My bad.), it’s the sentiment we’re looking for here, and once again, it’s pitch perfect for politicking. We Mainers are naturally inclined to help one another, it points out, and this makes people feel good about themselves. Rightly so. Of course, this calls the entire premise of government into question, which warms my anarchist heart, but Trav doesn’t go that far, thus keeping you out of hot water.

I know what you’re thinking; What about the libs? You’ll damn sure need all of them to make it to Washington.

Trav’s got you covered. “All are welcome in the state of Maine,” he declares. “Make yourself useful and remember one thing / ‘Live and let live’ is our golden rule / If you ain’t hurtin’ anybody, then you do you.” If that’s not an unequivocal endorsement of immigrants and free gender expression, I don’t know what is! And on top of all this, “State of Maine” is a great song — immediately catchy, easy to sing along to, with a solid slide-guitar solo, to boot.

Home is wonderful throughout. From the easygoing country stroll “A Long Time Ago” to the swampy blues number “Honeybear” and the jazzy shuffle “Je Ne Se Pas,” everything’s likable and performed with consummate musicianship. Trav’s a wizard at looping guitar parts and, as the Gritty’s gang can attest, he can play anything, from Metallica to the latest pop hit, reading lyrics off a tablet and countrifying all the chords. His voice is strong, real and roughed from a schedule that also includes weekly gigs at The Canopy on Commercial Street (Fridays), The Quarry Tap Room in Hallowell (Thursdays), and Cook’s Lobster & Ale House on Bailey Island (Saturdays and often Wednesdays).

Trav was loading gear into Gritty’s last fall when I brought up my big idea: “This ‘State of Maine’ song would be perfect for Graham Platner’s campaign! I can connect you with someone who knows people on his team and maybe he’ll use it!” In my head, I pictured Trav opening Platner’s packed-to-the-rafters rallies and opening envelopes containing huge royalty checks courtesy of the fat cat Democratic donors you’re courting now. He’d also become hella famous, as he should be.

Trav seemed game, but the song was still a work in progress, he told me, and I recognized that he’s not internet savvy, politically inclined, or the fame-seeking type. Seriously, Troy, Travis has national-level talent, and the fact you can see him perform for free several days a week is ridiculous under capitalism, though of course we know country music sells beer and he’s compensated by the venues.

Last winter I saw Travis at an American Legion post in Westbrook. The people who run the place told me he’ll volunteer to play for the veterans there pretty much any time he’s asked. Trav also mentioned that night that he’s a Christian minister, and I know he’s deeply dedicated to his wife, the author Shonna Milliken Humphrey, so no worries there. But the song still wasn’t done, so I waited to connect him with the Platner-adjacent person I know.

In retrospect, thank the stars or the sky god that Travis didn’t become associated with that toxic campaign. And again, Troy, consider what I’m pitching here: humble, hardworking, family-man musician of impeccable integrity; a spiritual counselor (dig the Gospel-inflected “Here, Now, Love,” too) and veteran who volunteers for fellow vets; a song that makes people proud to live in Maine, where neighbors help neighbors, keep their word, and don’t expect much from politicians like you who never do.

Plus, in addition to “State of Maine,” there’s the album’s concluding title track, “Home,” a sunny tune with a whistled melody about Maine’s geography and how it’s always “calling me home.” Use that one, too, and pay Trav to play it at every event between Fort Kent and York.

Let’s face it, Troy: you’re not the sharpest ax in the forest or an inspiring public-speaker. Most members of your party didn’t want you to be governor, much less a U.S. senator, and none of the rank-and-file Dems even got a chance to choose you as their candidate. You need help. You need authenticity. You need Travis James Humphrey.

In solidarity,
Chris