Non Sequiturs
The Lighthouse Keeper
BY DANIEL W. DRAKE PUBLISHER

"Good morning," I yelled at the red tail as it made a low pass across the grassy patch near where I was walking. "Is that you, Hawkeye?"

The bird flew on as if it hadn't heard me, but after a moment, circled back and landed at the top of a small, dead pine tree up ahead.

When I got there, I said, "Good morning." He was preening his feathers and ignored me. I watched for a couple of moments and then said, "What's with you this morning? Usually you are very loquacious. Did you have a bad night?"

"Not exactly," he said, "but I am in a foul mood."

"Good pun," I said, trying to lighten up the situation.

Hawkeye only glared at me.

"All right," I asked, "what's on your mind?"

"It's you humans - as usual," he finally responded. The silence resumed.

"Are you going to tell me, or shall I keep walking?" I inquired.

At last he said, "I will tell you, but it will just upset you. Are you sure you want that on such a beautiful morning?"

"Enough, already," I said. "What is bugging you?"

"Yesterday, I wasn't exactly on my game, so to speak," Hawkeye replied. "I didn't exactly score a direct hit and dinner tried to get away. I chased it into the bushes, which, as you know, isn't exactly my milieu, and I got tangled up in one of those blacktelephone wires. The wire was kind of draped over the bushes."

"Oh dear," I said. "It must be one of those wires that the phone company deems an adequate replacement for existing underground wires that have gone bad. The wire is laid any old where on the ground. Verizon says they will come back within a month to bury the wire but usually they forget. In the meantime, they are an eyesore and a hazard for man and, apparently, bird. I hope you weren't hurt."

"No, I'm fine," he said, "but dinner got away and it took me a few minutes to extricate myself. I finally had to peck through the wire. It was really annoying.

"The only funny thing about it," the hawk continued, "was this guy came out of his house and just stared at me while I was pecking at the wire. I think I heard him grumbling something about having to start the process all over again. As I flew away, I yelled at him that he should think about converting to a cell phone. His response was not polite."

"You have struck a chord," I said. "My relatives have each run into issues of a similar nature within the last month. One brother now has a new black wire running both across his driveway and across the road. Another brother had to have his phone wire repaired because it had been sliced during some construction. The only reason his wire is underground now is because he dug the trench for the repaired wire himself. And this was after being told that Verizon would run a new line in a conduit from the street."

"Well, I am glad to hear it's not just me that gets annoyed," the hawk said.

"Those wires are only the half of it," I replied. "You are fortunate that you don't have to deal with the telephone company or, for that matter, the electric company. That is the really painful part."

"Do you need a phone to do that?" Hawkeye asked.

"The irony is that the telephone company would rather have you use your computer to report a problem." I continued, "If you call, they keep telling you to go to 'Verizon online.' They make it pretty difficult for a residential customer to talk with a real person and then, when you do, after the agent 'tests the line,' you are told that the problem is probably your fault and you will likely be charged for the service call."

"The electric company does have enough sense to know that you cannot usually use your computer to report a power outage, so when you dial in, the machine asks if you are calling to report an outage. After you press '1' to indicate that you are, you are put on interminable hold, all the while being bombarded by a recording which tells you that, because you are reporting an outage, your call is being given priority.

"Part of it is our fault though. If we could control our curiosity so we did not ask the person who finally answers what the problem is and how long it would take to solve it, then we would never know that the answer we would have gotten, had we asked the question, was totally wrong.

"Whoa. I did hit a nerve," the bird said. "All I was complaining about was a silly wire."

"Yes, you did get me going. And, I could continue at length …"

"Don't, please," Hawkeye almost begged.

I changed the subject. "I wanted to tell you something nice, actually. There is a new place in town where people can enjoy the harbor scene. They can see the harbor driving by in their cars and, better, when the clearing of the lot is done, it will be a place to relax and enjoy the water view."

"What's the big deal?" Hawkeye squawked. "I can get a water view anytime I want. I have to tell you, water views are overrated. There is nothing to eat in a water view."

"You have a different perspective than we do," I said. "Water views are prized by humans and yet they do everything in their power to block them from everyone else. So, in this instance, the Land Bank Commission has done a really good thing. It purchased a piece of property on Washington Street and just removed the buildings this past week, so that now there is an open lot from which anyone can see almost the entire harbor. Except for a couple of beaches, it is currently the only public space in town on the harbor. It's very special."

"If that's what rows your boat, then fine," the bird snorted. "I would rather see the Land Bank money spent on mowing the moors. From what I hear, things were never better than when the sheep were around."

"Aren't we lucky?" I said as Hawkeye resumed his preening, "You have your open space and I have my water view - and we can forget all about our tribulations with the telephone and electric companies. What a great day!"

"The "Lighthouse Keeper" reflects the views of the author and does not necessarily represent the editorial position of The Nantucket Independent. Please send any ideas or comments to drake@ nantucketindependent.com.