08.01.08

We should also note that Bunch of Grapes Bookstore in Vineyard Haven was damaged by fire on the Fourth of July and is currently closed. We wish the building and business owners as well as the staff all the best through this difficult period. Fiction The Birth House by Ami McKay. Selected by Karen Harris of Bunch of Grapes. Bright Shiny Morning by James Frey. Selected by Dawn Braasch and Doug Ullman of Bunch of Grapes.

By Susan Catling

08.01.08

Friends of mine have so many house guests in summer that they keep a color-coded bar chart on their kitchen wall, indicating which guests sleep where on which dates. My husband and I used to have a lot of guests, especially the first couple of summers after we moved to the Vineyard year-round. Our friends back in New York missed us more then and often invited themselves up to visit. We were, I must say, excellent hosts, giving everyone the Island tour, taking them to the beach, and feeding them sumptuously.

By Laura D. Roosevelt

08.01.08

The Clintons? The Obamas? Or is this island big enough for both families to vacation here? Several months ago, when it looked like the shark from Jaws was circling the Democratic Party, I would have said “no way.”

By Kate Feiffer

08.01.08

“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.”

By Shelley Christiansen

07.01.08

Not only did the Screen Actors Guild strike earlier this year keep Amy Brenneman from spending much time at her Vineyard home, but she joined a coalition of actors that call themselves Unite for Strength. Unite for Strength will challenge the slate of candidates running for election in September. Why? Unite for Strength claims they dropped the ball in negotiations with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers.

By Brooks Robards

07.01.08

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.

By Meredith Downing

07.01.08

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.

By Geoff Currier

05.01.08

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.

By Tom Dunlop

09.01.06

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.

By Kate Feiffer

09.01.06

(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

By Jim Kaplan

12.01.04

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.

By Holly Nadler

12.01.04

It finally happened the other day. Four people in line at the coffee shop, and I knew every one of them.    

By Mark Jenkins

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