Graduation Day!

Graduation Day is coming, June 28th on Shelter Island. There will be wild celebrations, excessive drinking, lewd conduct, and that’s just the parents. Who knows what the kids will do....

For the graduates, I have this advice:
1. There are many ways to serve your country. Don’t put profit ahead of patriotism. Support your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it.
2. Don’t worry, your parents will get smarter as you get older.
3. People can always handle the truth better than a lie. And a lie always gets found out, and usually at the worst possible moment.
4. Pay your own way, pick up your own things, and don’t make excuses; your enemies don’t believe them and your friends don’t need them.
5. Pack your own chute. I saw an interview of a sky diver years ago. The interviewer asked him why he wasn’t afraid to jump out of airplanes, his simple response, “I pack my own chute.” I thought that was a great axiom for many things in life. When it is important, when you are the one most affected by the decision, pack your own chute. Take responsibility for what needs to be done and personally see that it is done right. If your parachute doesn’t open, you’re the only one who pays the price.
6. God exists. And things do have a way of balancing out. Have a little faith.

For the parents I have this advice:
1. Luggage is an appropriate graduation gift. But pre packed, with a plane ticket attached is going too far.
2. Shredding the birth certificate will not help. Even though they move out, they never really move on. They’ll always call for money.
3. Painting the room - you MUST wait for the child to move out so you can do a proper cleaning and defumigation of the room. If you’re in a hurry, try to do a controlled burnout of the room - it worked for the Roman’s when they cleared lepers out of a dwelling, it could work for funky teenage rooms.
4. Before you can have a small bonfire and burn posters, old sneakers, raggy clothes, video games, and other teenage items, you have to obtain a special permit from the Town, a $35 “Parental Mental Health Reclamation Permit”.
5. Hide the vacation brochures and the “101 Ways to Blow Your Kids Inheritance” handbook until after the little darlings leave.
6. Don’t get carried away with your first post graduation food shop. It is a bit of a shock not to have to buy Tostino’s, Mystic Pizza, tortilla chips and guacamole, the four teenage food groups. It takes a period of adjustment to realize you can spend your money on what YOU like to eat and not make do with what you had to buy for them. I’m looking forward to buying fruit instead of single serving frozen pizza’s that taste like cardboard.
7. Music ; Crank up the oldies station and glue the dial in place. Not only will you get to hear your music again, but the sound of good music will drive the kids out of the house even faster.
8. Books : soon you will be able to read books again because you are not constantly cleaning. A wiped table stays nice all day because there is no one there to leave cereal bowls and glasses, scattered papers, keys, and other little messy tidbits for you too clean up when you get home. You will have time to read things longer than a reader’s digest article!
9. Money in your pocket -your money in your pocket! It will be a strange sensation at first, looking in your wallet and seeing $10’S and $20’s in there. And later the same day, the bills are still there - and the money is still there the next day! It’s wild, but so welcome!

Port-a-Potty Blues

PA. crews rescue nude man stuck in portable potty AP Fri Jun. 6, 6:24 PM ET
Rescue crews had to cut apart a portable toilet to rescue a man who got stuck naked inside the potty. Authorities say the 31-year-old man used his cell phone to call 911 on Sunday from inside a portable toilet. Police say the man had been drinking and had taken off his clothes. Somehow, he immersed himself in the holding tank.
Deputy fire commissioner Chris Miller told WPMT-TV, "I've been on the job in one form or fashion for 21 years, and this is the first port-a-potty rescue I've ever had."

We have porta pottys all over Shelter Island, any where where there is construction, which seems to be everywhere these days. And I think everyone has had a memorable porta potty experience at least once.

You’re at an event, or a visitor on Shelter Island, and you’ve got to go, and the only place to go is into the dreaded porta potty. As you try to open the door without touching anything - or letting anything touch you- you are met with that unmistakable smell of industrial strength anti microbial mysterious blue water and raw sewage. As you step in, the porta potty shifts. It doesn’t matter if you’re thin or fat, it shifts and you immediately think, “Oh gawd, don’t let this thing tip over...”. You make your way to the seat. You would’ve put down a paper liner, but they're all gone, or for some reason, the whole tear off pad of liners has been thrown in the tank. So you sit on your hands because you can wash them later.

You can hear people talking about you outside because everyone seems to forget you can hear just fine in a porta potty, matter of fact the sound reception is often enhanced. Someone ought to do a study of the acoustics inside modern marvels.
“Is she STILL in there?”
“Geez, how long does it take?”
“You think she got lost in there?”

I was at a Renaissance Faire once, with two friends. We were having such a nice time until I heard this from inside the blue box.
“Her ice cream cone is really dripping. I’m gonna finish for her, she’s taking too long.
“Are you holding her purse?
“Look inside and see if she has any tissues.”
“Oh wow, look at this. The condoms I understand, but handcuffs?”
“Handcuffs? Her?”

Inside the blue box of humiliation, I called out, “Get out of my purse! The handcuffs are for a play, I’m dropping them off tonight. The condoms are my friends, she’s with her mother and she didn’t want her mother to know she has a boyfriend.”

Outside the blue box of humiliation, they heard, “Mmmmlllllooommmuuummmtaumblah!”

I finally exited the box. The six people in line, all of whom knew what was in my handbag, looked at me suspiciously as I tried to step out with dignity. But I tell you now, there’s no believable explanation you can offer for the combination of condoms and handcuffs in the same location.

Shelter Island Summer Reminders

Just a few notes to start off the summer on Shelter Island.

Watch out for early morning commuter traffic > Happens all over the Island when two work trucks, traveling in opposite directions, stop in the road to converse. They stay there talking until each truck has three beeping cars behind it.

Dare Devil Entertainment > Coming out of Fedi’s, balancing two or more cups of piping hot coffee and Danish's, dodging cars to get to your car parked on the opposite side of the road.

Morning News > Have breakfast at the Pharmacy or Pat & Steve’s to get all the up to the minute news.

Sound bite > No time to stop and get news, but you just need a sound bite of the latest item? Drive slowly past Crissy Gross the Crossing Guard with your window down and yell on approach, “Crissy, what’s the latest?” She’ll give you three updates by the time you roll past her.

School Rules > Please remember that the school stubbornly insists you take home the same child you dropped off. You can’t trade to upgrade in the parking lot, I know, I’ve tried.

No ganging up on treaders > When you see someone treading for clams in the water, you cannot call friends and organize an attack strategy to get the bag as they exit the water. Shelter Island is very strict about this. If you want to steal freshly tread clams, you have to do it yourself, mano a mano. I generally approach the treader as they’re coming out of the water and say, “I think your car is on fire! I’ll hold your bag, you go check the car. I’ll wait right here.” They hand me the bag and run to their vehicle. By the time they realize their car is fine, I’m home melting butter.

Car Notification Program > As I’ve said before, all the men on Island know you by your car. When you get a new, or just different, car, in addition to NYS registration, inspection and all that other stuff, you have to tape a big note to your drivers side door for 15 days announcing that this is your new vehicle.

Cyclist Crunch Limit > All Islanders are limited to running over three cyclists per tourist season. More than three, you need a special permit from the Board.

Honor the Honor System > Most of the little farm stands on the Island have a coffee can for you to leave payment. If you’re a tourist, don’t screw this up. Whether you’re a local or tourist, if you can’t put $5 in a coffee can for fresh veggies or flowers, get the hell off the Island.

No Pointing > One complaint tourists have, and they are right, is that the Island does not provide enough public restrooms. So, when you see a tourist heading into the woods from the roadside, no staring, pointing or laughing please.

MapQuest > When a tourist asks for help as they stand there next to their car with an open map of the Island, resist the urge to get them lost on purpose or tell them that the last boat is at 6 PM and they’d better get in line now.

Island Selective Hearing > There are official periods of time when all Islanders are deaf. At the annual tree lighting in the village square. Despite the variety of keys being sung, you will only hear one key. School Concerts, they are good for the kids and no matter what you hear, it’s Mozart.

Mooning > Mooning tourists is limited to mooning the last boats that leave the docks on summer nights. Underwater mooning, so popular last year, must be reduced. Mooning snorkeling tourists, when we all know things look bigger under water, is mean. They think they’re being chased by a giant soft shell clam.

Sycophant Classes > There’ll be a class held this summer for those who need to polish up their kissing up skills in order to gain access to a boat. What will be covered? How to identify someone who has a boat. How to help them realize how much better their boating experience will be with you on board. Beer selection. Making club sandwiches. Dealing with people who have identified you as a mooch; ways to throw them overboard.