Winter is finally here. You wouldn’t think anybody would be wishing for winter – but we do! Peace and Quiet at last – no sign of Toots and Krob anywhere. I can go downstreet and actually park right in front of the store. I can get on the ferry. I can drive around without dodging Toots and Krob in the road. It’s wonderful!
I suppose it’s the comparison between now and summer’s mayhem that makes winter so much better. Which means we’ve got to have Toots and Krob to relish their absence.
By now you must be wondering just who these “Toots and Krob” are, anyway. I wondered too, until I found out. One day, long ago, I asked the old man who that couple was, walking by. Toots and Krob, he said. Pretty strange names for somebody, I thought. I turns out that’s old-time native idiomatic for anybody you don’t know – Toots being the female of the species and Krob the male. It tickles me no end what these islanders can cook up!
In any event, all these Toots and Krobs we don’t know overwhelmed us last summer. They appeared determined to get away from wherever they came from, decided to do it all at once and all came here.
It seems like last summer was the worst Toots and Krob epidemic we’ve ever had. Maybe it was the record heat wave we had all over the country, or all the horror stories on the news of kidnappings, murders and terrorists, or the delayed after effects of 9-11 (01) that caused the horde to descend on us.
This island is not geared up to handle so many people from away. Services have actually declined over the years. There’s only one grocery store now, one gas pump, one motel, not so many restaurants, a few bed-and-breakfasts, four cabins and the bowling alley. The local population (1,200) can only do so much work in the service area, and half of them are busy fishing. That makes it quite frustrating when swarms of people keep getting off the ferry, day after day.
Speaking of the ferry, Toots and Krob made trying to go anywhere a hellish experience. We didn’t realize it was going to be “swarms” descending on us all at once. By the time we realize we do want to go somewhere, it’s too late! Toots and Krob have got all the reservations, line numbers and stand-bys for every trip.
The sorry truth of the matter is that we need Toots and Krob to help us get through the winter. The question is, just how many of them can we stand? The answer is, we really don’t have much say. We can’t very well set up a blockade at the ferry dock and impose a quota. “Okay, 50 of you people can get off and the rest of you will have to go back!” You can bet somebody would have something to say about that! So, we have to take what we get and lump it if we don’t like it.
To make matters worse, if that’s possible, someone in the New York Times wrote an article for the paper, telling all the Toots and Krobs in the WORLD that the ferry ride across the incomparable Penobscot Bay among these islands is the best and most beautiful of ferry trips on the east coast. True, but does EVERYBODY have to know?
I really wish that particular somebody from New York would come and live here one summer and then see what he (or she) wants to blab to all and sundry. Loose lips sink ships – and that will include our ferry, the way things are going!
Oh well, Toots and Krob are only a summer affliction, like mosquitoes and horseflies. A swat here and there gets them off you, and soon they’re gone.
I’m some glad winter is here. Toots and Krob are only an irritating memory and we’ve got the place to ourselves for a few months. What bliss!
– Rusty Warren
Vinalhaven