It’s been a while since I’ve written, dear reader, but last week’s front pager about a new plan for K2 got me sort of worked up. I had several simultaneous reactions:

1. Seriously? A Redmond guy growing legal pot? That’s all we got?

2. Ha! Well that will cement our reputation.

3. What’s the message here?

4. Why can’t we figure out what to do with K2?

Operating premise disclosure: I say “we” because I think the fate of K2 is ours to decide. It’s the 160,000-square-foot elephant in the room. We’ll define ourselves by it, or it will define us.

Much has been written about this particularly blatant unused resource in our midst. Major development visions have been articulated, good will (and money) spent, proposals have been floated, pitches made, environmental concerns voiced, hands wrung. I salute Jack, Dick, Truman, Emma and the myriad others who’ve put boatloads of work into trying to make sense of the K2 Complexity Conundrum.

Is the fact that we haven’t, as a community, come up with a workable plan simply another indication of our individualistic un-governability?

My immediate thought was: If there’s anything that might galvanize us to get off our iconoclastic, leave-me-alone-on-my-5-acres duffs and produce the collaborative willingness to finally make beneficial use of K2, it’s the image of off-island Doobie Brothers capitalizing on legal weed in our K2.

I don’t particularly want to step into the marijuana legalization issue, because frankly, it’s a moot point. I do remember that my grandfather thought marijuana “led to cocaine and LSU.”

OK, I will say that legalization might be a great idea, might save billions and reduce crime, and it might increase meaningless conversations, bad art, Doritos-binging and delusional epiphanies.

I know I don’t want to implicitly encourage its use to our kids. But that’s an issue to grapple with apart from how that building gets used, right alongside the need to love and mentor and be there for our kids, and each other, in these whacked-out times. It’s been a tough year on Vashon, and it’s time some serious community wisdom emerges.

My concern here, dear reader, is the use of K2, and what we’re saying as a community by what we decide to have happen there, or don’t. If we had a town square, you could walk around it and hear all the opinions. A town square … huh.

If aliens came down to assimilate our culture, they would see it as a deal-breaking moral flaw that we couldn’t figure out how to create something of value there. They would think we were stoners, and they would move on to Bainbridge, which, if it had a K2, would be growing truffles.

Let me lay my cards out: I see the same thing others have seen: a community center, play spaces, a teen center, a conference center, an incubator for local, sustainability- oriented businesses, a gathering space for the brain trust that is this island.

But I also see a place that could serve as our calling card, and our service, to the world. No really, I mean it. We have something very special here and a real opportunity to do it right, and we have a responsibility to show others how.

Of course this isn’t easy, of course a million plus is hard to come by, of course it’s a challenge to get diverse interests on this island to collaborate (ya think?).

What’s the major roadblock here? Lack of organization? Lack of capacity for organization? Preponderance of nay-saying? Fear of unknown environmental issues? Ghosts?

If Vashon doesn’t demonstrate the will and intelligence of a small community to bypass institutional ineptitude and social divisiveness in order to collectively empower a sustainable future, who will?

It’s been the chance of a lifetime for 10 years now, and that window may be closing. There are still folks working hard on this, taking new and interesting directions, building on the work of others. I’m not talking about the Redmond guy.

Here’s my proposal: If you’re interested in talking about what’s possible, what’s happening, what’s missing and contributing in some way to making something of our choosing happen, join the conversation by “liking” facebook.com/K2vashon.

At some point in every golden opportunity, the moment comes when you choose. Or, you don’t. Who’s in?

— Kevin Joyce is a writer, humorist and father on Vashon.