• by Robert P. Barsanti • When the mighty Nantucket Whalers scored their first touchdown of the game, I was sitting at the fifty yard line discussing computer software. We paused in our discussion and watched the Upper Cape Voke tacklers bounce off of the running back until he stood […]
Nantucket Essays
September Bride
• by Robert P. Barsanti • The wedding party was leaving. On Friday, they had fallen out of the catalogs and arrived at the back bar on the Gray Lady II. Then, over the course of the weekend, they drifted from church to beach to “Where-O-Where House” to Chicken Box […]
Getting Paid in “Happy”
• by Robert P. Barsanti • In the new millennium, we start the school year before Labor Day. The state wants 180 days, the lawyers want us to watch the disclaimers, and everyone wants to be done before the beginning of July. So, before the sales begin, we trudge off […]
Stars of August
• by Robert P. Barsanti • I missed the meteors this week. In other years, we have driven out to dark beaches and watched the lights streak across the great dome of stars. Not this year. This year the statistics of daily life with doctor’s appointments and ferry runs overwhelmed […]
Different, Not Less
He is no longer a boy. His beard comes in thick and red, as if Finn McCool were to come back up those Irish rocks and sit with us at the Papa Gino’s. He has grown taller than his parents and has grown stronger than both. When he bounces off […]
Dance in the Rain
• by Robert P. Barsanti • It comes sweeping up the coast on the margin of a stalled front, drapes the island in shadow, and then releases onto the sand and seagrass. Should the rain last long enough and come down hard enough, streams will form on both sides of […]
Houseguests and Memories, a Nantucket Essay
• by Robert P. Barsanti • He finally accepted the invitation and came down for the week. Linus lived in one of those far off Vermont towns that you drive through when you are on your way to Jay Peak or Montreal or you are on the run from the […]
Love Unleashed
• by Robert P. Barsanti • Until this year, I have never lived with a dog. I have lived with parents, children, and wives, so I am used to certain duties and responsibilities. I know enough to turn the lights off before I go to bed, hide the Oreos from […]
Menemsha
• by Robert P. Barsanti • Years ago, when I was younger and traveled around with my parents, brother, and sister in a Jeep Wagoneer with five bikes on it, we would spend a week or two on the Vineyard. We spent two weeks in a ten-man Coleman tent; we […]