Today is the 1st day of fall. But before we break out cider and carve up pumpkins, we should take one last look at summer.
A Compo Beach resident — and alert “06880” reader — did just that the other day. The occasion was a story here about the seawall — it was damaged by Hurricane Irene, and of course Westporters are divided over how to repair it, who should pay for it, and whether beach dwellers are actual human beings deserving of help, or over-entitled rich folks deserving of having their homes washed away.
The Compo resident lands squarely (and naturally) on the side of the seawall being every Westporter’s business.
“The blog comments were of course typical of non-understanding Westporters,” the resident says.
They don’t realize that if the wall is washed away Soundview Avenue gets washed out too, and they can’t get down to do their triathlons here, eat at Joey’s, party on South Beach, walk their dogs (and poop on our plants), see the fireworks (and try to crash our party), stroll on the boulevard (and snoop at our BBQs), or just drive by and gawk at storm damage.
But our Soundview reader was just getting started.
A follow-up email noted:
They also come catapulting over walls and fences, when not watching where they’re going on bicycles, skateboards, etc.
They leave all their litter on the beach — and often leave new $100 beach chairs with price tags attached. And brand new toys galore.
They try to join our late-night, festively lit outside gatherings, assuming this is “Splash.”
They ask for diapers, Band-Aids, ice, corkscrews, bathrooms, warm clothes, mixer, water, booze, mustard , mayo, towels, rides home, parking spaces, and baby sitters.
Two families (sans nannies that weekend) have actually left the beach at dusk, and forgotten a child — for extended periods of time.
We probably can’t mention the obvious sex acts under blankets, or just plain parking on side streets, running into the water and “doing it” in the water with clothes on while folks are having early evening cocktails, or in the moon path on the shoreline (sans blanket).
Living on Soundview sounds pretty exciting!
But wait — there’s more!
A 3rd email added:
I forgot to mention people who drive by at dusk and drop their home garbage bags into beach cans, and think we don’t see them.
And those who come and take the plants we plant in our border gardens, thinking they are theirs for some reason, and pick all our blossoms that hang into the streets, and play thumping music so loud on their car radios that they bounces us out of bed.
Or unwanted church services set up in front of houses.
And someone’s ashes dumped where we sit to sunbathe, or that are blown by the wind onto our patio.
Without the seawall, Soundview Drive would be gone.
No more drivers. No more ash-scatterers. No more fornicators.
Just peace and quiet.
And the occasional house-destroying hurricane.