A Few of My Least Favorite Things

I've come to the conclusion that Whitey Willauer might just be the smartest guy I know. You

see, Whitey recently demonstrated his intelligence with one simple, declarative sentence: "Andrew, you're always so helpful."

Like I said. Smartest guy I know.

Now, the nice thing about the printed word is that there's none of that pesky vocal inflection to indicate sarcasm or whatever else, so what you see is what you get. And what I get from Whitey's words of wisdom is that yours truly really lives up to his moniker of Mr. Helpful, a name ascribed to me by my own dear mother - who is, as I've told you people too many times to count, always right. So it must be true.

And as a way of allowing the Nantucket community as a whole to benefit from my overabundance of helpfulness, I occasionally offer up some pointed suggestions for how the world might be a better place. One such offering took place a couple of days ago outside the Hub, where I had the good fortune to run into a like-minded newspaper columnist. And when you get two grumpy newspaper columnists, one of them signifi cantly older and less attractive than the other, it's always an interesting time.

So Goodman and I were standing there offering up our respective lists of things that, for lack of a better, less printable term, irritate us. My list included things like bicyclists who refuse to use the bike path. Seriously, people, I realize that it's Tour de France season and we're all trying to get in shape and such, but this whole concept of a training regimen at four feet above sea level on an island that might have a five-degree incline if you're generous is a little over the top. And before you tell me that it's dangerous for you to ride on the bike path, try running a stop sign in front of me again. Then you might discover what is meant by the concept of real danger.

And speaking of traffic, I'd like to offer a traffic control suggestion to those of you who don't live here for more than two weeks out of the year. Actually two suggestions. First suggestion: don't drive. You'll make all of our lives easier. But if you must drive, please follow suggestion two: figure out where you're going BEFORE you start going there. Don't stop in the middle of the street to start reading your map. And for the love of God, those signs that say "ONE WAY" aren't suggestions here on the quaint island of Nantucket. They're actually traffic laws here, too. We're oldfashioned like that.

And let's don't get me started on those of you who trashed the beach over the Fourth of July. In all seriousness, you're the reason a lot of people on this island want to make their beaches private. And lest you think I'm being an alarmist, do yourself a favor and ask around. You'll discover that the vast majority of Nantucket's beaches are privately owned and all it takes is a little political muscle to get them closed to the general public. If you're too important to pick up your own trash, then pay somebody else to do it. Either way, just make sure your own garbage gets taken off the beach.

Whew. It's tough walking around with all of these suggestions for how to improve the world. So what's a helpful guy like yours truly to do in order to escape the weight of this obligation?

You know it, kids. I go fishing.

I'm always here to offer a helping hand, an informed opinion or a segue to anyone in need.

Friends and neighbors, it's rough out there these days and we're all in need of a good way to get out of the way of this rat race that always seems to materialize on Nantucket about this time of year. And getting out on the water - with no cell phones, please - is a great way to do it. You get off the streets and out of the traffic, which is always a bonus and you get entertainment out of the deal, to boot.

I'll give you the perfect example. Last week, after the craziness of the Fourth of July, I was actually on the verge of losing my naturally patient and calm sense of inner peace. Yep. I was about to actually get mad. I know, I know. It surprises me, too, but such was the level of my irritation with bicyclists and cars and beach trashers. So Dad and I went out to the Chord of the Bay in search of a little serenity. Yes, David. I actually went out fishing, thank you very much.

Fishing is, at least for me, kind of a Zen thing. You get out on the water and it's just you and the fish. No traffic, no bikes, no trash. Just you and the fish. Mano-a-pesco. Or whatever it is. I wasn't very good at Latin in high school. But I digress.

Kids, when it gets to be just too much out there with the crowds, do yourself a favor. Get out on the water. For me, it only takes a little while to recharge the batteries and ease the irritation.

Oh. I'm not a huge fan of "The Sound of Music," either, but that's a whole other issue for a whole other column. Let the barrage of name-calling begin.

Tight lines. I