“Can you give me the address of the Vineyard Playhouse?”
“Oh, just drive up Main Street, turn left onto Church–”
“No, please don’t give me the directions. Just give me the street address.”
“But it’s really easy to find. All you have to do is–”
“No, no, no! All I want is the address.”
Shelley Christiansen
Heads turn as my friends and I march purposefully down Circuit Avenue. The nine o’clock crowds looking for ice cream, the Game Room, fudge, and souvenirs part to let us slip through. It is guaranteed that we are noticed.
Meredith Downing
Scully didn’t like to chase cars.
He preferred to get out front and lead them like a dog-track hare, ears pinned back, jowls flapping, legs pumping like pistons in an old flathead Ford.
He was a big dog but he could motor.
Geoff Currier
I do not ask for much in life (and friends of mine say that sometimes it shows), but this springtime I do ask why the Vineyard staged Jaws Fest, the all-Island hullabaloo over the thirtieth anniversary of the release of Jaws three summers ago, but – at press time anyway – shows no sign whatsoever that it’s going to hold a Jaws 2 Fest to honor the 1978 release of the first of the three sequels to follow it.
Tom Dunlop
Dear Summer Person:
Goodbye.
Fear not, this is not a good-riddance letter. I’ve lived on the Vineyard year-round for eight short years and still relish the Island summer and the people who come with it.
Kate Feiffer
(With apologies to Billy Joel’s Piano Man):
It’s nine o’clock on a Wednesday mornThe regular crowd’s shuffled inWe’re fifteen strong in the Mansion House poolTrying to work off our tonic and gin
Well, Leslie C. Grimm is a friend of oursShe teaches aerobics for allBe it stretching or strength’ning or pumping the heartEveryone’s having a ball
Splash, splash-splash, de de splashSplash splash de de splash splash splash
Jim Kaplan
Like so many ambitious enterprises, it began on a whim. In February of 2002 my canary yellow – I called it Tweetie Bird – Dodge Colt died. It was a typical Vineyard car, meaning that to take it off-Island practically assured you of getting stranded far from home with either a defunct car or a massive mechanic’s bill. I’d bought it from my sister, who’d already built up a good 100,000 miles on it. So when Dave at Cars Unlimited came out of exploratory surgery on Tweetie Bird’s transmission shaking his head, I knew I needed to make a new plan.
Holly Nadler
It finally happened the other day. Four people in line at the coffee shop, and I knew every one of them.
Mark Jenkins
