I lived in Manchester in 1982, worked at a restaurant named Grabbers where the bickering owners lived upstairs, came down in their bathrobes and fought with each other all the time while the chef enjoyed demonstrating his authority by flinging meat cleavers at the wall behind you if you were late picking up a plate. Fun times.
It's a gorgeous area, though. I lived in a big run down farm house right in the middle of nowhere (probably developed by now), and when the leaves changed colors in the fall, it was truly awe inspiring. I left when I realized there was nothing really to do there but drink...so I moved to Newark