A perfect October storm approacheth, one that threatens, at least in the short term, our very way of life. Mine anyway.

I refer, of course, to the simultaneous late October closings of the Viaduct (repairs), and the Island Center Forest (deer hunting). It makes me think: “Where’s the Freedom?,” or “WTF?”

It is no mystery that West Seattle, already suffering the “new cool” burden, will bear the brunt of Viaductlessness. The bridge will be backed up to Burien, and angry but normally polite caffeinated programmers will be using bad words.

It’s no mystery that aliens have abducted and sucked the brains out of all DOT leadership since the 1960s. Finally, it is no mystery that from an architectural, green and pedestrian-friendly standpoint, the Viaduct is a monster. But it’s our monster, and I heart it, in all its cracked wrongness.

Hwy 99 + Viaduct has become a well-worn neuro-pathway, pre-verbal, part of a chain of automatic actions: off boat, slow Fauntleroy, ha…soccer moms, oh, too bad: Huling Brothers, ah, West Seattle bridge, our own S curve onto 99, whoa, where’d those stadiums come from, and suddenly, I’M ON TOP OF THE WORLD!

Sometimes I go to Seattle just to drive on it. I could spend my whole day back and forth on that precarious, hideous concrete monument to fossil fuel-based nature-obliteration.

It may be the very contrast with Vashon that makes for the V appeal. From primeval forest to concrete jungle in 45 minutes.

I have a north-end friend who, like so many of our short-haired brethren, takes the PO boat. Right about now, he’s all “nya, nya!” Little does he know that the King County Water Taxi, to compensate for V’s problems, has decided not to add boats, but simply to quadruple the number of riders per boat.

So you, smug suit guy who shall remain nameless to protect your identity, will have one additional rider on each knee, twice a day for the next couple weeks. Who’s “nya-nya’ing” now?

You may not be bothered by the closing of the viaduct, but like me, you’re concerned with the closing of the Island Center Forest for two weeks to allow hunting.

Now, to be clear, I do not blame the hunters. I’m a member of the Sportmen’s Club, fully support gun ownership and, though I don’t own a gun, if I did, I’d be totally into running through the woods shooting stuff.

But I have two completely neurotic dogs — actually, one is neurotic, the other moronic. I take them to Island Center Forest daily, under COMPLETE voice control, and it’s these daily treks that make their mood disorders manageable. Without it, my border collie is Hannibal Lector with a ball, and the Great Dane is a gigantic marauding village idiot on crack. It gets ugly, no poop.

Apparently the county has decided not to fine anyone who ventures into the forest during the hunting closure, which is charitable — and sort of funny.

Here’s the dirty little secret: There are no deer in ICF. They’re in our yards, orchards and gardens. Why would they hang out where there’s nothing to eat, near paths with weedeaters, horses and dogs and clusters of people stopping to “process” their leash/non-leash issues?

There must be a better way. Here’s my very-Vashon idea: Close the Viaduct for the deer hunters to use. I know, it sounds weird, but think of it as performance art. I mean, how cool would that be? A massive local Flash Mob: Vashon deer hunters on the Viaduct. We could film it and give them choreography. It’s a beautiful, redemptive image, for the DOT, the deer and for our nation.

I contrast these two dysfunctional closures with one that is homegrown and righteous: Vashon Halloween. For one afternoon, we are a true village, filled with elevated blood sugar mythic creatures. It’s deer hunting turned on its head: We give our children license to kill and follow behind them, bemused and frightened for what the evening will bring.

The next two weeks will test our resilience, perhaps a toe-dip into the challenges to come.

I prefer to imagine a Vashon-inspired future, where incongruous performance art, ie. sustainable innovation, and free-range children rule.

— Kevin Joyce is an Island writer, singer and comedian.