An Island Point of View

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Essays

The Ornaments

In winter, the island returns to Main Street. During the warmer months, we avoid Main Street: too much traffic, too much chaos, and too few reasons to be downtown. The Hub no longer saves the Sunday papers in their cubby holes, there’s no wing night at the long gone AC, and Hardy’s has disappeared and taken Bingo the parrot with it. Almost everything we could want, from glazed donuts to step ladders to Mom’s prescriptions could be found near empty parking places, away from the confusion, chaos, and cobblestones.

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Essays

A Dog Has a Soul

In his 1960 book Travels with Charley, John Steinbeck chronicled his attempt to connect with the many parts of these great United States that he didn’t know much about. In order to accomplish this monumental task, the renowned author retrofitted a truck with a camper to suit his needs. He named his truck Rocinante, after Don Quixote’s horse, and drove it about 10,000 miles in the course of his adventures. Charley, a standard poodle, played the role of Sancho Panza for the great Steinbeck on his quixotic journey. Steinbeck describes his doggie/squire as being a mind-reader, an apt evaluator of the humans they met on their travels. Steinbeck utilized the friendly canine to break down the barriers between himself and the strangers he encountered, with great success. Dogs certainly have this ability.

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Essays, Nantucket Voices

The Regulars

They said that they were never coming back.

Again.

For thirty-eight years running.

They had their reasons. They weren’t rich. They told everyone that. They brought air mattresses for the kids, five frozen meals in a cooler, and a full tank of gas. The bikes were tied onto the car, the sleeping bags stored in roof carrier, and everything else packed around the kids. (Tim, your feet are going to be on the Hibachi).

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Essays

A Wasted Life

So, we were stuck. Behind me, a jeep settled, with a driver and a beach chair. In front of me, a cable truck sighed and shuddered.

I had fallen into this place through inattention and habit. Normally, at this point in the summer, I would have taken a short cut that would have sped me to my end. I might have headed up an alley, snuck wrong way down a one-way street, and rolled across a yard on my business. But as the sun had just come out, Kiki Dee had returned to the radio after fifty years, and my attention had drifted from what was necessary and important, the afternoon slipped me onto Quaker Lane.

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Essays

Moor Blueberries

In the sweat of August, my Boon Companion and I retreat to the quiet places. For most of the year, he can run about unleashed in some of the most dog-friendly parks and play areas, but when the summer comes the existing rules are reposted, underlined, and enforced by the sad, angry, and afraid.

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Events

Livin’ the Dream

Living the dream. Don’t ask me why, but that trite phrase just grates on my nerves. The delivery of this ditty has to be done with complete deadpan in order to maximize the ironic impact. I’m pretty sure that the first place I ever heard this used was in the wild and wacky world of law enforcement. The optimum context was when greeting an officer who had just completed a 12-hour shift, only to learn that he was now being held for a four-hour traffic detail of some sort. Yeah, just living the dream.

An Island Point of View, Nantucket Essays

The Demands of Optimism

There is nothing quite so heartening and thrilling than for the world to turn around and demonstrate that you were right all along. Your faith and your intellect enjoys a well-deserved trip around the Olympic stadium, shaking hands and waving flags. Most enjoyable, you run past your critics with their heads down and eyes averted. Life does not always validate your parking, but when it does, you take your trot with a spring in your step and a glint in your eye.