Opinion

 

 

 

Learjets on final approach ride wakes of noise, the whoosh of traffic throbs off the seawall and the wail of the lumpen mob soars over Circuit avenue.

It’s summer.

It’s time for the earnest toilers of commerce to harvest the golden hordes. In fact, it’s July 21 and the Monster Shark Tournament is in Oak Bluffs and with it the yahoos in their plastic boats, rafted up three, four to a mooring — hundreds of them bobbing in the crowded harbor.

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August is the month when ocean swimming is at its best; the water has warmed enough to make long swims a pleasant escape from the heat and dust of summer. This is also the month when hurricanes and tropical storms can come barreling up the coast from the warmer waters south of us and kick up dangerous surf and rip currents, also known as riptides.

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Today is Philanthropy Day on Martha’s Vineyard. Proclaimed by Dukes County, it’s a day to honor everyone, seasonal and year-round for the tremendous amount of time and money you donate to preserve the Vineyard and keep its nonprofits running.

In the last year there’s been a lot of philanthropy to thank you for. Some of it preserved or improved important Island institutions.

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From the Gazette editions of August, 1934:

Bradlee Martin, sage of Tiah’s Cove, came into town on Tuesday, looking, as he said, “for a sight of them yatches.” “Big doin’s up around our way,” observed Bradlee. “I’ve always told Pashy not to set the alarm clock for earlier than 3 o’ clock, and the other morning it went off and I jumped out of bed and had the milk pail on my arm before I noticed that the hands pointed to 1 a.m.

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The Gaymark barrel has hung out in front of our property for nearly 70 years, at least since the place was owned by the Balls and later their daughter. For years it was one of the items on scavenger hunt lists and some kid would swipe it for a day or two but it always reappeared. About five years ago it got swiped one weekend during a spate of similar thefts that included the Camp David sign from in front of Larry David’s place.
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It was one of those sunlit, breezy exquisite Monday afternoons driving down State Road in light traffic from up-Island near Lambert’s Cove Road in West Tisbury. Through my windscreen I observed four rather burly young guys approaching me from Vineyard Haven on their obviously rented mopeds.
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