News and Events for Nantucket Island
The first thing you need to know is that the Legos are staying. They are in plastic buckets and bins, assembled, half assembled, or dissipated into an accretion cloud of colorful plastic bricks and smiling mini-figure heads. But they are going to stay.
The rest could go.
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).
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.
Are evil scientists born or made?
I cannot tell you the answer today to this age-old question, but seeing how I’m currently conducting a series of diabolical experiments, I have a feeling that I’m well on my way to finding out.
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.
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.
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.
by Steve “Tuna” Tornovish It’s August 20, 2023, and the inaugural August Blues tournament is in high gear. I’m feeling pretty good as I have my morning coffee and check the leaderboard. There I am, sitting on top of the hill for the Gator Blue category (the longest bluefish), thanks […]
essay by Robert P. Barsanti So far, in the middle of July, my best beach day featured a hooded sweatshirt, a makeshift wind block, and more than one tumble in a storm-driven surf. Everyone locked into traffic on I-84 would happily trade places with me, but this is not the […]
