TIGHT LINES
THE GIFT OF GIVING
with Andrew Spencer
Birthdays are a funny thing. It seems like everyone over a certain age complains about having them because it means they're another year older. But what's the big deal? Life goes on, you get older, the world keeps turning. Told you it wasn't any big thing.

Recently, our very own Don Costanzo, the Big Cheese here at The Nantucket Independent, recently had a birthday. So I was summoned to the office by the sports editor, Shep, for an "editorial meeting." In newspaper parlance, as I've said before, that's usually journalistic code for "let's sit around and waste a little time and make it look like we're actually working on something quasi-related to this newspaper."

As I was saying, Shep invites me to the office and asks when it's convenient for me. Shep can be accommodating like that. I tell him a good time, and he responds by telling me that that time doesn't work for him and I need to pick a different time. So much for being accommodating. So I ask him when is good for him because, yes, I'm really accommodating like that. Shep suggests I come by at 1:30 and oh, by the way, it's Don's birthday and they're planning a surprise party for him and, since I'll be in the neighborhood, why don't I stop by then? Yeah, in case you're keeping track at home, that's kind of an afterthought invite, but it beats the hell out of staying home on a Saturday night, no?

Whether a gift is accommodating or not, a thank you note is always appreciated.

So I went to the office, very surreptitiously, as I didn't want to spoil Don's surprise. I announced that I was there to see Shep, nothing more. Editorial meeting, I told them. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Come to find out that it wasn't so much of a surprise to Don, as he'd pretty much seen it coming when his wife told him that he absolutely, positively had to be in the office at 1:30. Whereas Shep is accommodating, Don's a regular Sherlock Holmes when it comes to sniffing out surprise parties.

Don's birthday got me to thinking and, as you people all know, that's always a dangerous thing. I thought about birthdays and how, despite the bad rap they get from us middle-aged folks, they've got a bunch of good points to them, too. And those good things kind of balance out the bad. It's sort of like math, which might explain why people don't like them. But I digress.

I think everyone will agree with me when I say that having a birthday is better than the alternative. That is, not having a birthday. The latter would mean, in essence, that you're no longer among the living, so that's inherently bad. And then there's the whole gift thing. And Don, before I forget, I made a pretty hefty donation in your name to a local nonprofit. It was greatly appreciated by them, and they'll be sending you a letter thanking you.

Now gifts are, at least for yours truly, a welcome thing. Somebody wants to give me something that's not contagious and/or life threatening and I'm all about it. But then there's that pesky little rule about writing thank-you notes, much like the one Don will be receiving from the kind people at the aforementioned nonprofit. Thank you notes were always a tradition in the Spencer household. Case in point, Mom wouldn't let us out of the house on Christmas Day until we'd written our thank-you notes. Apparently there's kind of a stigma attached to people who don't show proper appreciation for gifts they've received. It sets a bad precedent; the little punks start expecting gifts rather than appreciating them.

Kind of like the current seal situation we're dealing with out at Great Point.

Mr. Costanzo, we here at the Andrew Spencer Memorial Fund would like to let you know that your faithful fishing columnist has generously made a donation of one segue in your name.

Friends and neighbors, in case you've not been up to Great Point - or to the old Smith's Point, for that matter - you might not realize that the island has been taken over. And no, not by Hummer-driving Connecticut people, but rather by seals. They're everywhere out there, and they don't seem to be thinking about leaving. In fact, they've more or less set up camp like a bunch of college-age teenagers who don't really feel like going back to school. And, much like those teenagers, it all pretty much boils down to food supplies.

People see the seals out there and they think they're cute and friendly and so on. Of course, people

have the same reaction when they see me. The

only difference is that people see the seals and think it's fun to feed them. Me, on the other hand, they throw me the occasional disparaging glance. But the seals will take it all: bluefish, sandwiches, whatever. All of it is a welcome gift, but the problem is, you're not going to be getting any thank-you notes from them. In fact, you're going to be getting even more seals that expect to be fed. You can see the same concept at work over at Consue Springs. Take a piece of bread over there and see how many ducks give you a disparaging look when you tell them you've got nothing for them. Now replace the ducks with people, then cube that number and that'll give you a little taste of my average day.

So when you're out at Great Point, please don't feed the seals and don't encourage anyone fishing with you to feed the seals. There are plenty of fish swimming around out there to feed both them and you, so let nature do its thing and leave the feeding of the seals alone.

And just in case anybody's interested in the address of that nonprofit, you can just put my name on an envelope full of cash in The Independent office and I'll make sure it gets to the right people.

Tight lines. I