Halloween is nearly upon us along with that scary yearly ritual: the family gathering. Recently, my father and I traveled back to our ancestral home to visit his one surviving brother and to haunt the inhabitants of the places we used to live.
If you’re ready for a scare that goes beyond the shock of seeing another Miley Cyrus performance, you’re in luck because it’s nearly Halloween.
The brisk days of fall are upon us, signaling the end of summer, and with it the end of joyful vacation moments, including things like trying to get from the airline check-in counter to your actual boarding gate. Those of you who fly often may have grown immune to this type of frustration and can skip ahead to the next article about the bickering at the last meeting of the (pick one: fire department, school district, park district)
Thinking is one of my hobbies, but here in America, thinking has fallen out of style. I’m guessing it’s because the powers that be don’t want us to know what is really going on. A functional democracy requires a thinking electorate, but thinking is optional in the United States, whereas in Europe, it’s mandatory. This may be why so many politicians are down on Europe, similar to the way flat-Earthers don’t like Neil Armstrong.
So Valentine’s Day is over (by a few hours), and you’ve flubbed up.
If you’re a guy like me who is not a fan of the holidays, you might be worrying about upcoming seasonal obligations that you will fail to meet and for which you must create a decent excuse. Things like why you didn’t get a present for your mother-in-law, or why your contribution to the cookie exchange is in a container labeled “Bob’s Bakery.”
Many of you have followed the articles I’ve written for this paper and know that I also write for the comedy group Church of Great Rain. In addition, I have written two books about Vashon, both in a humorous vein, the first of which was published last year.
Last week, one of our admirable ferry workers was photographed creatively expressing his irritation using a breakfast food. I have to say I’ve wanted to do that myself for years. Fortunately, I’ve never done it in front of a spy camera, but before I say more about spy cameras, I’d like to say that the ferry worker in question has always impressed me as being courteous and adept at his job. Because he apologized on his own, I say we rally around him and give him a second chance. Folks who admit freely their mistakes and apologize, as he reportedly did, deserve our support. He also really knows how to load a ferry boat, and I would miss his expertise.
If you’re like me, I’m truly sorry. But if you are like me, you’re sick and tired of all the fuss about the Vashon-Maury Island Community Council.
If people had to use their real names on the net, maybe they’d behave better.
As usual, I didn’t even want to go to the Strawberry Festival, but our dog trainer encouraged me to attend with my dog, Bubby, because he needs the exposure. Also, my wife reminded me that attending the SF is one of those implied duties of a faithful spouse. So my mind was made up.
Now that the June wedding season is nearly over (thank goodness!), it might be prudent to offer some advice to those who have recently succumbed to the marriage bug.
The story in The Beachcomber about the “Vashon Hum” is both a first-class example of cutting-edge journalism and a reminder that we exist at the discretion of the natural world.
