Apparently all we’ve done this week is drive, because every post is full of our complaints about abandoned cars, invisible bikers, reckless drivers, people who don’t use blinkers, and how people dress in their cars.
I’m afraid to go on the road now, knowing that I’ll be judged.
Let’s get into detail of all our many gripes.
One islander nearly hit a biker who had no lights and was weaving through traffic at night while wearing a camo jacket. Usually camo is reserved for people who are trying not to be spotted by enemy combatants or deer. Bikers ought to wear brighter colors.
For the health and safety of the community, the best solution is to bring back 90s neon fashions.
One person tries to solve the problem by yelling, “wear more black” at people out their car window. I wonder if this method works?
Being mad at someone recklessly biking is reasonable, but is there something totally unreasonable that someone could get upset about? I’m so glad you asked!
An islander posted a picture of a handmade street sign with rather creative capitalization that was made of plywood and hung on a telephone pole. The sign reads, “Alone in your Car? Take The MASK OFF you Look Stupid.” (sic)
Masks are useful for more than just Covid- they keep your nose warm while you’re waiting for the heater to kick in. Mine protects me from the smell of mold and mice, which have infiltrated my car since it sat dormant for the better part of a year.
And masks prevent nose-picking.
Also, sometimes it’s easier not to take your mask off between errands. Or you wait until you get home to take it off and wash your hands. Ages ago, we learned that was proper mask hygiene. We’ve since grown a little lax, and will shove a used mask in our pocket next to some cool seaglass we found at the beach and a half-eaten granola bar, then pull it out three days later and pop it on.
Finally, we point out how ridiculous it is to judge someone for doing something that in no way affects anyone else. As one commenter so eloquently put it, “Our current condition, in every way imaginable, is the result of all of us not doing good things enough and you want to pile on someone for doing a good thing too much? Wtf is wrong with you?”
We’re also upset that people don’t slow down near the school zone. They just ignore the flashing orange lights. Do we need traffic cameras that take a picture of your car and bill you six months later? Would that be a good deterrent?
Maybe we just need one of those signs that tells you how fast you’re going, like the one in Burton. I love that sign because then it’s a challenge to see if I can go exactly 25.
And as much as we hate drivers, we hate abandoned pick-up trucks even more. There’s one that’s been parked on Cemetery for some time, and it’s starting to look slightly worse than my rat-chewed car. We’re all calling dibs on its spare parts. Someone’s already claimed the grill, and I’d like the garbage bag full of fishing nets that’s in the back seat.
Lastly, as much as we hate cars, we still find time to complain about other people’s pets. There’s been incessant barking on the Burton Peninsula at the bottom of the gooseneck. What is the gooseneck, you may ask? It’s the thin strip of land that leads to the Burton Loop, which is the goose’s head.
I’ve heard of Vashon being the dancing man, which would make Burton a particular bit of anatomy that shall remain unmentioned, so maybe Goose Head is a better way to describe it.
Do you ever call the stretch of Quartermaster the isthmus? Or, in keeping with the bird anatomy analogies, would it be the swan neck? What names do you have for stretches of island geography?
Oh wait, were we supposed to be talking about dogs? We got a bit sidetracked there.
Lastly, here’s a fun quiz to find out if the person you’ve been dating is actually a Washington State ferry:
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, 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.
