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Health & Fitness

SUMMER RAGE

         

I have summer rage. I have tourist, bicycle, pedestrian, jogger, traffic jam rage. And if I see one more chest sporting a big black dog I’m going to use it for target practice. 

 Could someone please tell me when they turned Dock Street and Mayhew Lane into a pedestrian mall? Now I know that when you live in a resort area it’s politically incorrect to sport a bumper sticker on your car that says “If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?”, but come on--we all have some ambivalence. Even the Islanders who make all their money from our summer visitors find ‘the season’ somewhat trying. Not that we’re any different when we go away. I, too, gawk at the storefronts and wander into the street as though I have an IQ of six. But I only do it for a week or two at a time, whereas here I have to live with it for at least four months every year.  

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Why is it when people are on vacation all the rules are suspended? Let the kids stay up until they’re so cranky you want to drown them? Sure. In fact, when they start screaming with frustration and exhaustion that’s when we’ll take them out to a restaurant to eat. They won’t mind standing in line for an hour. Bicycle helmets? Nah. We’re on vacation. Mad Martha’s for dinner? Why not. Let the kids enjoy a sugar high.

One of the things that made moving to Martha’s Vineyard so appealing was the festive atmosphere of the different towns during the summer, but after spending thirteen years here full time I yearn for the blessed quiet of winter, of empty streets, even if most of the stores and restaurants are closed. I don’t care. I can’t afford to eat or shop in them anyway. In summer everyone is so busy with their company I don’t get to see any of my friends. Most of us feel as if we run a B&B from June till September. And the ferry is a disaster. Off season if we find the need to go anywhere we just run up to the airport and buy a ferry ticket. During the summer, if you haven’t made long term plans, fuggedaboudit. Short of an appointment for open heart surgery, you’re not going anywhere.  It’s not the Authority’s fault. It’s the unavoidable consequences of being a resort.

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Look at the Gazette. In the winter it’s a nice, newsy little weekly that tells you what you need to know. In August you could get a hernia carrying it home, what with all the stuff going on. 

And what’s with the cell phones on the beach? You’re on vacation, dammit! Oh. You’re making a reservation for dinner? You mean you didn’t do that in March when you got your ferry tickets? You’ll either have to eat before your lunch is digested or after the evening news. As for me--I rarely patronize restaurants that close in the winter, or refuse to make a reservation for fewer than six (or twelve) people. And a parking lot is a big plus. 

The grocery store is another place that inspires rage. It’s not uncommon for the shelves to be bare, even if a nor’easter hasn’t been predicted. Fortunately I’m of the Yankee ‘make do’ persuasion--it’s the Stop and Shop that loses out. I used to shop at Cronig’s but what with the traffic and price of gas...don’t get me started on that.

Really, I’m thrilled and proud that Martha’s Vineyard is so beloved. I adore it when I’m off Island and someone asks me where I’m from, and I watch their eyes get wide with envy when I tell them. And I guess it takes the frenetic summer months to make us appreciate the deep, dark winter months. But in the midst of my summer rage I’m always reminded of an acquaintance who retired to the Cape. He loved it in winter but always went back to Brooklyn for the summer. Go figure. 

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