Frank Whitney Announces "The Worst Ever!"
"This was the worst spring ever," Frank Whitney of the Saltaire Market lamented early Saturday morning as yet another beautiful morning dawned in Saltaire, and people bought the 50 cent daily paper for 2 bucks, and paid 4 dollars for a half pint of yogurt and a banana. No, he was not referring to the coffee in the old sweet shop (which is the same as ever, no better no worse) but the numbers of people out in Saltaire this spring. Statisticians insisted the figure could not be measured but apparently, after ten progressively worse "worst springs ever" this year has indeed, again, sunk even lower.
Meanwhile, the ball field is in tip top shape but no one can walk on it. As is the beach, beautiful, tip top, also unwalkable. Unless you're a piping plover.
Dr. Bob insists that everyone is a cheap b#%$@d giving but a dollar each to the collection plate at 11:00 Mass while he alone generously forked over a sawbuck. We think. As usual, Bob was the collector and can keep track of these things. God forbid he should keep an office hour on Sunday.
Frank M. parts with a few chits and buys a couple lucky friends a drink in turn for their patience in hearing out his monologue on the helicopter ride in New Zealand ten years ago. Was that when the bad springs started in Saltaire?
Has someone painted over the smiley face on the old brass ball outside Village Hall that is not actually brass, but painted brashly?
Lastly, Will Bennett stands alone early Sunday morning casting out to the sandbar perennially just beyond his reach where all the fish are jumping, as usual. It's the worst spring ever.
- Big E