Tag Archives: Facebook
Annual Town Meeting
Last night was West Tisbury’s annual town meeting (ATM means more than automated teller machine around here). As usual the school gym was packed. Even with two entrances, each staffed by two people checking townsfolk against the voting rolls, we … Continue reading
Doomsdog Coda
In my last report on Zion and Sensi, the two Akitas who ran afoul of the law in my town of West Tisbury, an agreement had been made to turn the dogs over to the Lexus Project, an organization based … Continue reading
Saved by a Desk
I don’t think I’ll ever become the person whose dwelling is so jam-packed with books, piles of newspapers, and other stuff that she has only narrow aisles to move in. For one thing, moving 12 times in 27 years has … Continue reading
Meetings
An islander who knows whereof he speaks recently noted that for some people the Vineyard off-season is one long meeting. In the last eight months I’ve been to a bunch of meetings. Not all that many compared to what, say, … Continue reading
Facebook MV
Anything any Facebook junkie says about Facebook has to be taken with a few grains of salt, for the same reasons that no junkie can be trusted where junk is concerned. Everyone’s the hero of her own story, and most … Continue reading
Occupy MV Needs (The) Help
A rush proofreading job had to be in New York on Monday. The job was on paper, meaning (duh!) that it couldn’t be sent electronically. UPS, my usual overnight carrier, doesn’t ship on or off the island on weekends (and … Continue reading
Waylon Comes Home
A two-week saga has come to a happy ending, but I’m sorry to say I can’t tell but a fraction of the story. The star, the hero, the protagonist, the guy who knows what really happened — he’s not talking. … Continue reading
Digital Dynamism
Talk about the “digital divide” has been de rigueur for years now. It’s generally taken to refer to the gap between those who have access to computers and the Internet and those who don’t, and/or to the quality and quantity … Continue reading
From the Seasonally Occupied Territories . . . 