Daring leaps, gooey s’mores, and friendly neighbors amid the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun at Saltaire’s annual Fourth-of-July ocean picnic. (Photo by Catherine O’Brien.)
By Hugh O’Brien
July! I heard someone on the ferry talking about how when you get to July there are just eight weeks left of summer. Maybe so, but what a great eight weeks they will be.
First, my most-valued correspondent, Connie Lawler, sent a message last week asking me to include details of this year’s immersive duplicate bridge class, an annual affair Connie typically oversees with precision and calm. A few days later, however, I opened my emails to find one from Connie marked “URGENT!” in capital letters normally reserved for newspaper headlines like “MEN WALK ON MOON” or “FLU SEASON HERE” asking me not to print the information she’d previously dispatched because the new ferry schedule didn’t fit the instructor’s timetable. (Clearly, a unique dilemma.) However, shortly before press time Connie resumed radio contact to say that bridge had crossed the Rubicon and will span Mondays from 12 noon to 3 p.m., July 11 through August 29. Connie added she hopes everyone eats before the play so they can make the next boat home. Presumably that last part doesn’t include Saltairians already in residence and wishing to stay.
The Saltaire Volunteer Fire Company (SVFC to its members, donors and grateful transports) holds its annual parade at 10:30 a.m., Sunday, July 17…with the siren call of free franks afterwards!
Remember these upcoming SCA events – the Sea and Sustainability Festival Saturday, July 9, in and about the village, and the Sandcastle Contest two weeks later (Saturday, July 23) at the primary source of all things sand, the beach. The summer’s sca-vents continue with the “Salty Slam Beach Volleyball Tournament” Sunday, July 31 between Pacific and Sea Walks, which makes for a very long playing area, followed by the Artisan Fair Saturday, August 6; details as the artisans draw near.
Anyway, everyone seems to be settling into what should be a peaceful summer, bar the usual quota of momentary angst over one thing or another. The pressures of organizing four family weddings in three weeks, humoring the new mayor and managing the Village amid the cataract of ceaseless seasonal sundries do seem to be taking their toll on the usually equable Mario Posillico, however. Just the other day, in an apparent reaction to one email too many about camp or boats or e-bikes or whatever, Mario rose silently from his chair, walked to the office pantry, grabbed a bottle of an unnamed ketchup of Pennsylvania origin, squirted a glob of the stuff onto a paper plate, marched back to his office and threw it against the wall. Of course, such behavior is inconceivable in any well-balanced individual occupying an official position, so Saltaire did its part to erase any trace of this lamentable lapse by quickly having the staff repaint the office in a hastily-blended shade dubbed “Heinz Red” so that all was dry and gleaming when a refreshed and unfazed Mario reported for work next morning. Now all we have to do is hide the mustard.
