Spring is coming, and soon we will be welcoming tourists to our island. Okay, some of you will be sneering at the tourists and telling them to go back to Bellevue, but most of us will be welcoming them. What first impression of our island do we want to give people as they leave the ferry dock? We start this month with this observation made by an islander:
Everyone agrees. As much as we love our sandwich board signs in town, these decaying signs for generators don’t really go with the aesthetic. I think we should stick with just the one sign that has both a land acknowledgement and a real estate company logo for maximum irony.
Someone also feels like the signs are preaching to the choir, They say, “Too many signs on this island overall. We know there are deer crossing all over the island, people nearby and narrow roads…..I agree. Let’s keep Vashon beautiful and minimize eye pollution.”
‘Eye pollution’ is my new favorite phrase. We should start a non-profit to fight eye pollution and team up with the airplane noise group. ‘Make Vashon a Sensory Deprivation Tank’ can be our motto.
Someone makes this astute point: “What I’ve never understood is the North End Welcome sign and sign along the highway for people coming from the No. End about upcoming Island activities…but nothing for people arriving at the So. End.”
The only signs along the South end are warnings about poison oak. This is the opposite of welcoming. I propose a redistribution of eyesores so that people coming in from Tacoma can also see molding advertisements for plumbing businesses that have stopped servicing the island.
And speaking of pollution, we have this post:
Some of us are always trying to see the best in people. One says, “Maybe they were inside shopping?”
The poster replies, “Absolutely not inside shopping. And here’s the thing, let’s say you were gonna go inside and shop. Use the garbage can across the way at the bus stop then shop.”
I like that people are gaming out how to throw away a poop bag. I want to see football play illustrations of how to do it.
The commenter then says, “I wasn’t there so have nothing really to contribute to the discussion.”
Don’t let that stop you! Contribute away, push forth through blind ignorance, propose hypothetical scenarios! That’s what we do here! That’s the whole purpose of social media! To obscure truth! To muddy the waters! We should postulate that the person carrying the bags spontaneously combusted and the only trace of their existence left on this mortal plane is those two poop bags. Maybe they were raptured and their last thought before ascending to heaven was a deep personal regret that they didn’t get a chance to throw away their poop bags.
Seeing these poop bags causes us to relive all the abandoned poop bags we’ve encountered. We have these gruesome tales:
“We’ve had people think it’s OK just to throw the bag in the blackberry bushes. Then we either go out to pick blackberries or cut the bushes back and cut through bags of dog shit. Such a nice surprise when you’re trying to enjoy blackberries.”
Another islander says, “I cut back a bunch of overbrush on my property and found 24 bags of poo.” And then they provide this evidence:
OOh, here’s a thought. We could leave poo bags at the South End for people coming off the Tacoma Ferry. Then they, too, could be welcomed by an eyesore.
One person tells this story, which will haunt me for the next seven years. “Our neighbor was using his weed eater… through a bag and it went all over him. Poor guy.”
Someone asks a question that I’ve been wondering for a while. Poop is gross, but putting it in non-biodegradable bags so that it stays with us for millenia seems kinda bad? They put it much more eloquently: “Regarding microplastic and responsible resource management; does it really make sense to manufacture plastic bags, ship them, truck them, put the truck on a ship, stock them, wrap them around some poo, put them in a can, bag them in another plastic (never biodegrades) bag, truck them again, dump them, process the waste, truck it again, on another ship, into another processing facility, onto a train, to Oregon, to sit in a pile anyway, never biodegrade, and just keep that perfectly good dog poop tied up in a landfill for thousands of years. Dog poop, it’s got what plants crave (nitrogen.)”
Not the point of their comment, but a bag of dog poop travels farther in this world than I ever do. Maybe I should make an effort to get out more. My new goal: Be more well traveled than a bag of poop.
And there’s always that one person who just has no idea what’s going on. They say: “Are those snack bags ? Yum or lil candy bags
”
One person wishes a curse on the bag leavers.“May the people who did this be visited by ants.”
Why are ants such a curse? Let’s ask the islander who posted this:
The first commenter asks. “Indoor? Outdoor?”
The poster clarifies: “Well, theoretically, they should be outdoor. But they insist on being indoor, and this evening they opted to take up residence in my cpap machine. I have ant traps everywhere. And at present time, my universal love of animals is not extending to ants.”
The poster is not alone. One person says, “ME!!!!!!! Or maybe I hate them more than you do. I have to keep my modem in a moat to keep them from nesting in it!” And they share this phenomenal picture:
I can’t stop looking at this picture. It’s a work of art. I just feel like so many things could go wrong here, and yet they haven’t. It’s a representation of overcoming obstacles with ingenuity and hope.
Another person, who I picture typing this from their underground bunker while wearing camo tactical gear, says, “Find a product called COMBAT MAX. It’s a gel that comes in a syringe. I cut drinking straws into pieces about 2 inches long and squeeze a little in each one and spread them around the house. The straw keeps pets and children from getting into the gel, and the ants take it back to the nest where it kills the queen. It’s the only thing I found that works.”
I think you should get a teeny tiny slingshot and take out each ant individually. Or surround your house with a moat and just use office clips to keep the wires out of the water.
Perhaps the ants’ coming is a sign that we need to better manage our outdoor garbage. Luckily, we’ve all been provided new cans.
The first comment is: “We’ll get to work with the usual known snivelers and come up with some gratuitously insincere whining.” Thank you for this perfect encapsulation of who we are and what we do. And we do not disappoint! We all immediately jump on the invitation to complain. One person says, “Me first! Our cat immediately pissed on ours!”
Omg I always feel so bad when I walk the dogs on garbage day and they pee on someone else’s can. Good to know that my animals aren’t the only disgusting goblins on island.
Another person makes this point: “And i just noticed it’s not ‘self loading’! Give me time.. I’ll come up with more scurrilous complaints.”
Hmmm, maybe Murrey’s Disposal could integrate AI into their product. You could say, “Computer, take out my garbage,” and the Smart Can will respond, “I have deleted all photos of your dogs.”
Or the can will have robot arms and when it tries to pick up an empty chip bag from the ground, it tips over, spilling your garbage all over the lawn and breaking your car window on its way down.
One person says, “They don’t lock and we have a raccoon issue. They told me I could bungee their lid shut but the bungee must be removed BEFORE they do the pickup. They will not provide a bungee.”
Yes! Thank you! A solid complaint! This is the good stuff.
And we have another good one: “Only complaint … so far … when you open the top lid … all of the rainwater that is on top …. goes directly into the bottom can !! Making a big wet swampy mess inside the garbage in the can ….. !! Not a good design !!”
That’s the kind of constructive criticism we need. And some of you, who always assume people have good intentions, will say ‘maybe Murrey’s Disposal wants heavy, wet garbage.’ Well, you also thought that a person was coming back for their poop bags. Shame on you for your naivete.
Finally we have this complaint: “It’s too small and black is the color of Satan.”
This is true. William Carlos Williams would say that so much depends upon the red garbage can glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. A black garbage can just doesn’t have that rural aesthetic. You need a pop of red amidst all the green and grey.
One person has this complaint: “Yeah and what to do with the old cans? Haha ”
To which someone responds,“oh you didn’t see the unhelpful ideas they gave you on the flyer? ”
I didn’t get a flyer, or if I did, I didn’t bother to read it. So now I have to come up with my own uses for a large red outdoor garbage can.
- Rain barrel. I can collect water in it that I plan to use on the garden, but it ends up filled with mosquito larvae. Also it attracts raccoons. The lid could be a bird bath that has the exact same problems.
- The lid could also be a sled if it ever snows.
- Halloween costume. Just cut holes for arms and legs
- Bin for organizing things. It can join all the other containers full of stuff that I have long been planning to organize.
- Large drinking cup
Someone actually has a good idea for reuse: “Give the old cans away to people who haul their own! Post on FB and they’ll be gone.”
I’m always surprised by the random junk people get in line for. And the commenter is right. There are people out there who take used toilets off the side of the road. So there are absolutely people who want your old garbage bin.
People will take anything that’s free, even literal garbage. For example, we have this post:
And that’s not the only garbage that’s selling like hotcakes.
All this talk of garbage cans still doesn’t answer a perennial island question: What do we do with garbage that’s too big to fit in a can and no one wants? Garbage such as a broken Hobie Cat boat.
Where some see garbage, others see opportunity. One person says, “Looks like a boat with a view to me.”
Another sees it as the inevitable societal decline associated with climate change. They say, “A victim of the last King Tide. They seem to be higher every year.”
Others have a more immediate reason. “The dump raised their prices so this seemed like a good spot.”
One person suggests: “I always thought they should have a special on Hobie Cats in the fall.”
Another adds, “I have never seen a Hobie Cat in use. My guess is people buy them, take them out for an hour or so and say “this thing SUCKS!” and abandon it.”
A boat is a commitment. Like a horse. You need special gear to attach to your truck to haul it, which means you also need a truck. Then you need time and money to maintain it. And you also need time to actually go out on the water and use it. I’ve often imagined abandoning my possessions and living free of the burden of owning stuff. Somedays I look at my furniture and think, instead of vacuuming the couch, what if we just didn’t have a couch? So I get the impulse to just abandon a boat.
Where some see tragedy, others see opportunity. One says, “Airbnb only $145 a night.”
Another person is thinking of making the same mistake the original owner made: acquiring the boat. They say, “Free ?”
Another adds, “Pirate camp booty abounds!” I’ve heard of pirate camp, but I’ve never signed my kids up. I assumed it was all ropes courses and make believe, but if they actually go around the island stealing boats, then maybe I should enroll them. Piracy will likely be a useful skill in the coming climate apocalypse.
Eyesores aren’t our only problem. We also have noise pollution, as illustrated by this post:
Someone gives this explanation: “Ghosts of old Vashon come out at night. I hear them too.”
I’ve heard this too, the sound of someone trying to go 90 up Morgan Hill, possibly without a muffler. It never occurred to me that it was the ghost of the mud bog jeeps.
One person recommends using this bit of witchcraft: “For my noisy and obnoxious neighbors I’ll sometimes blast ‘Relaxing sounds to clear negativity and bad spirits’ on youtube near my window and it seems to work, at least temporarily.Maybe give that a try?”
You’re a monster. You’re blasting the sounds of chickadess and rainfall, and every five minutes it’s interrupted by an ad for scam vitamins or a medicine for plaque psoriasis that has the side effects of intrusive thoughts and death.
One person recommends “A neighborhood collaborative to put those spikes that flatten tires in their path when you hear them coming? ”
Another person adds, “Something ~ maybe less dangerous.”
Someone else adds, “yeah you can’t do felony attempted schmurda over a noise complaint sorry boo bear.”
I’m reading a book called Algospeak about how social media is changing language, and it has a chapter about how people come up with creative ways to say words that are blocked by the algorithm, such as “kill” and “murder.” That’s why people say “unalive” and “ schmurda.” Thank you for indulging in that little interlude. We will now get back to our scheduled programming.
It wouldn’t be a month on the Facebook group if someone didn’t have a comment like this: “She should have been around in the 70s and 80s when we were growing up and there were alot of loud muscle cars on the island. Remember? Good times ”
It was better in the halcyon days of yore when it wasn’t just that one noisy car at night. It was a lot of noisy cars at all times of day and night.
One person read the post and didn’t understand why it was a problem. They ask, “And what’s your point”
The poster says, “ Isn’t my point obvious? It’s LOUD and LATE.”
The commenter replies, “well you be wrong its a car driving karen get a life”
There’s a difference between a car driving and a car being pushed to an extreme so that it becomes an amplified vuvuzela.
Speaking of pushing machines to the max, have you ever heard a sewing machine work on heavy fabric? I’m sure this islander has:
One person asks, “Is this a horse blanket or a house blanket?”
I wonder if this is the same person who wanted to know if the ants were outdoor ants or indoor ants.
The poster clarifies that it’s a house blanket.
Good news for the poster. Someone informs us, “A new place just opened on Vashon!”
Another person asks, “Where?!? I have 3 coats with broken zippers!!”
The place that’s opening is a new version of Luna Bella’s. We have this post explaining it.
One person asks: “Can you repair wool moth damaged sweaters?”
Another says, “Congrats! Can I bring in a puffy coat which needs a zipper ‘realignment?’”
And while we’re getting out hyper-specific needs met, let’s end with this lovely post:
Someone gives this reply: “I’ll put one in my truck, next time ya see me grab it.”
Author: Anna Shomsky
I'm a former teacher and a data engineer living on Vashon Island. My writing has appeared in Five on the Fifth, Broken Spine, Women on Writing and on the Post-Culture Podcast. I wrote and produced the radio show Whispers of Vashon for 101.9 KVSH. I’ve had short stories published in the anthologies Island Stories and Chicken Scratchings, as well as through the Open Space Literary Project.
