I was at Old Sculpin Gallery this Thanksgiving weekend, next to the chappy ferry, and some tourists on bikes asked for directions to the bridge. I haven't been to Chappy in years so had trouble describing exactly how to get there. Understandably the couple were confused, so they asked again, how do they get to the bridge TO Chappaquiddick? I said oh, you have to take the ferry. They asked again, the bridge TO Chappaquiddick, because I just didn't get them apparently. I said you have to take the ferry, then futilely started explaining how the hurricane washed out the over land bridge and that it was really long anyway, you need a 4 wheel drive vehicle and I think a pass, and near impossible for their bikes... I just didn't understand that though it was November, they are still clueless, and I was only confusing them more. My bad. They biked away perplexed without a word, possibly to continue their search for the bridge to Chappy, and did not take the ferry.

Another couple asked if Jaws was filmed here. I explained how they wanted to use the gallery, but could not, so they built an exact replica (Jaws questions are common in the gallery). Again I was confused about what they meant and had assumed they had more Vineyard knowledge than they did. So after ignoring my first explanation of the scene shot in the gallery's replica, they patiently asked me which beach was used? I explained how as someone who has now lived on Mv for over 19 years, I was tickled to watch the movie and recognize around 5 different beaches for that one scene where the shark appears to go from state beach and Eastville to Menemsha pond, and people are running around on various other beaches but it's all edited into one amazing scene, and how wreckage of the boat was in Menemsha for so long... They were so perplexed and asked again but where was Jaws filmed? frustrated, finally I said yes, Edgartown is Amity, and pretended I didn't know directions how to get to the beach where Jaws was filmed. I guess business was too slow that day and I talk way too much.

This piece sounds like an alcohol induced ramble and should never have been published. This author ought to get of the island more often.

To Betty Burton,

I would have replied, "If you are on vacation, you have time to wait."

Not sure who this Dillon character is, Holly, one of your relatives maybe?
I must be just as addled as you because I thought this was one of your very best blog posts. Had me laughing more than once and smiling all the way through.
Kudos to Betty Burton for her kind but pointed rejoinder.

Actually, it was a little rough what Claire said, but how did she know I need to get off the island more? My last trip was an overnight to Boston in September! But then I get to take a long break with my homies in California, so that could help.

I just re-read what Ms. Dillon said about this column sounding like an "alcohol-induced ramble." It seems pretty dry-eyed to me. 'Course I'm a big hung-over.

My response: "Well, I'm on work release for the day..." :-P

I definitely need to get off the island more. But an alcoholic ramble would have incomplete sentences and wrong punctuation, at the least.

To the line jumper--
Sure you can, as soon as I pay for these groceries.

Chip, or how about, "Sure you can jump the line, as long as you pay for MY groceries"?

Thanks for letting us share! That visit from the Chinese tourists inspired a trophy and a mural at Biggers Cottage. If we didn't love the tourists who inspire parallel parking drinking games on Ocean Park -- how else would we spend those long summer nights!

Dillon is a knucklehead with little sense of humor. I've been asked too many times," Is there a bridge to the mainland? When told no, they ask either "why not, or when is one going to be built?" Maybe they were from Staten Island?

Walter, I forgot about the bridge-to-the-mainland question! Clearly this column is going to need a Part Deux!

Holly...hope your Black Dog comments don't get you called an elitist by Mr. Douglas. Once wrote an essay for MV Magazine about opening day at the Black Dog and he proceeded to remove all his advertising from the Gazette and refused to carry it or the Island Guide at his venues. Apparently there are several people here with no sense of humor!

I worked summers on the Island for a few years...my favorite tourist question..."How do you get to the beach" as if there was only one. I always wanted to tell people to pick a road and drive until they hit water.

How many of "us" could get around in the New York subway system without asking dumb questions, or even have seen a subway in the "wild"?

I love the summer people
daytrippers too
always sad to see them go
Love it all, I really do!

Vineyard summer = magic
(a bit much since the Clintons, true)
but island winters make me very blue

I just love the island when its all happening!
Give me a sunny, August day, teeming with tourists!
Oaks Bluff teeshirts, ice cream cones, long lines, and traffic!

I'll take that any day over the raw, grey, dark, frigid, floating desolation!

I once had someone ask me, "which way to the water?"

Zut alors, Carolyn! Did the Gazette give you a hard time for Mr. Douglas Behaving Badly? And, Jade, that is too funny about asking how to get the "the" beach! George, just 'cause we're living here now doesn't mean we haven't dwelled in cities and learned the subway system and, finally, Martha, love your poem; it's good to be reminded of the fun season!

 Oh the endless list of heartwarming memories (that keep getting refreshed!). I submit (intentionally, and appropristly as per Rod Serling): height of season; thronged Circuit Ave; car stops and waits... and waits (someone's verrrry slowwwly pulling out of an upstream parking spot?) - nope - from stages left and right a two pronged horde swarms and packs into the waiting stagecoach like sardines cramming a circus clown's mini. But, wait.... there's more. This overfed coach, now probably riding directly on its axles, slowly rolls onward (as the inhabitants urgently scan left and right) - about 50' further in its painful journey, one sardine starts pointing and waving frantically at a store and, yup, the damned car stops so as to projectile vomit it's contents. This made all the more logistically challenging because now all the "wrong siders" have to scramble across towards the other-sided target. Sorta fun to watch from the sidewalk - from the car behind the amusement park shuttle, not so much.

When I moved to the Island and Charlie and I were in Edgartown and I looked at Chappaquiddick and I thought it was Nantucket and I said "That's no two hour ferry ride" at which point Charlie said he wanted to be let out of the car b/c he could ride with someone as stupid as me. I think he actually did get out of the car for a couple of minutes.

Trina Mascott
Here'a report from California's Palm Springs area whose winter tourist season is just beginning: it's all about cars. We seldom see our tourists face to face. So our complaints are about these visitors, mostly from Oregon, Washington and Canada, who drive too slowly in our fast lanes. Our main communication with them isn't verbal but is done via horn blowing. And Michael West, I'm taking your crack about Holly's relatives personally!

I was working out by myself at an island gym one summer day, when a woman started asking me what it was like to live on the Vineyard year round. After we chatted for a few minutes about the cost of living here, she asked me to tell her where the year-rounders shop. I glanced around to make sure no one could overhear me and told her that there was a secret shopping mall out by the airport. But only year-rounders could shop there. I really had her going and finally had to tell her that we shop at the same places that she did. I couldn't believe she believed me!

Laura, you mean there isn't a secret mall? I've been waiting to be given the specially coded map!

Anyone who says "Oaks Bluff" should be sent right back to Wood Holes.

Joyce, I've actually lobbied for years to officially change our town's name to Oaks Bluff. Try it: It rolls trippingly off the tongue, whereas Oak Bluffs -- try saying it over the phone and you need to enunciate that impossible "ffs" sound. Then because you know it's incomprehensible, you go through the whole business of spelling "f as in Frank, f as in Frank again, then s as in Sam." Bloody hell!

I'd like to propose a campaign of writing a return address as Oaks Bluff, because all we really need is the zip code; we could write Pyongyang 02557 and no one, certainly not the postman, would care.

A tourisst asked the best place to get crabs, and I tolx him it was at the Lamp Post.

Just heard a couple of new ones from Tim Felice: One woman said to him, "We were just on a beach with seaweed. Are there any beaches without seaweed?" And the other: "Is there a beach near the water?" Hmmm . . . this is even worse than I thought!