Grand Theft: Obama Sign Stolen From Front Yard

Sign stealing this election year had been frequent in the big city of Seattle, but here on our little island? 

It was October, some years back, when we moved to another big city on the West Coast and I remember how puzzled I was by the yard signs that announced which houses supported which political candidates. Political signs had never been a tradition in the Midwest--bumper stickers and lapel pins, yes, but not signs. Even though we eventually got accustomed to them we never erected any ourselves, and when we moved to the island it was more like we remembered from the Midwest: no signs.

This year, however, was a landmark year with a very different candidate, and some of Barack Obama's supporters were very assertive about their choice. A few yard signs actually went up in our neighborhood--a first, for as far back as I can remember, for most of us live quietly and don't advertise our politics.

One of the sign erectors had recently moved from the big city, so this ritual was understandable, and once his sign went up his next door neighbor promptly followed suit with a second Obama sign.

They were there, undisturbed and unopposed by rival McCain signs, for about a month when one night they both mysteriously disappeared. Who had done it? Who had stooped to low down thievery and stolen the signs? The big city residents were furious. Although replacement signs soon went up, feelings were raw, and the victim reported that he suspected his neighbor across the road, who had a tendency to stir up trouble if there was trouble he could find to stir up. 

Someone else piped up that it wasn't a good idea to make an accusation if it couldn't be backed up by proof, and this pissed off the big city resident. How dare someone impugn the validity of his accusation? Especially when the accused neighbor was despised by everyone and even suspected of being a Republican?

Funny how bad feelings can be stirred up during an election year. How wonderful it would be if that's all we had to worry about!

We're Still Fighting To Stay Rural

The developers are always on our doorstep, so to speak, drooling over the money that could be made if they could just pave over most of the island with motels, fast food joints and the like. But this has always been a quiet, rural place and most of us would like to keep it that way even if we have to fight continually to do so. We've managed to stave off Walmart (that is, the mainland town has so far kept them at bay, thanks to several hard working business owners that led the fight to keep them out), but others are always lined up behind them to start a new fight.

The developers tried to intimidate the county commissioners at a land use hearing by ranting about how much money they'd invested in their shopping center projects and now the rules had changed and were so stringent, with the objections and appeals process taking so long, that they were losing money. By raising their voices they intimidated our three commissioners--the ones who basically interpreted the county's Master Plan--enough so they relaxed the height and square footage requirement on a building moratorium for a shopping center that had begun. 

The result was two of the commissioners were voted out of office in the November 2008 election. Now we'll see what happens!

A Seattle Times Columnist Describes Our Paradise

Here's what a Seattle newspaper columnist said recently about our island: (And this is why we love it here.)

" You could see the yellow kayak, bobbing through the waves stirred by a stiff breeze, at least a half a mile away.
The sea kayaker was making slow, steady progress against the southerly wind that Puget Sound knows so well, paddle dipping with power and purpose.

Fifteen minutes later, he came ashore at Cama Beach State Park and walked over, shaking saltwater off his waterproof clothing, pulling off his neoprene gloves.

"Is there a phone here?" he asked. "I need to call about where I'm headed tonight. This is the only sign of life I've seen around here."

The guy, traveling north to south down the Sound, had unwittingly capsulized one of the great things about living here.

Few signs of life. Less than an hour away from one of the West Coast's largest population centers.

In the minds of a lot of us natives, that sort of near-solitude is often relegated to the relics-of-the-past department. But it might be misfiled. Because of sheer luck of the environment that surrounds us and a few people wise enough to protect it, we still have access to special natural places decidedly not overrun by people, at least during the "off" months." Ron Judd

Photo:
Our Madrona tree sports its bright orange winter berries