Days remain

A lot has happened. I'm sorry to inform you almost none of it has to do with Obama's visit.

I have three days left on Martha's Vineyard.

I decided last weekend that moving to New York is the best decision, regardless of job prospects. The day after the decision, I had my third interview with GQ and was told, "We'd love to have you aboard." The next day, I was officially offered the internship. I'll be an unpaid intern on the internet side of GQ, which is especially exciting as it means more writing opportunities (for web-exclusive content, mostly, I'm sure) and being able to be part of the company while they launch a brand-new website in mid-October. I'll be living in Brooklyn with two friends from Maine, which will be a huge breath of fresh air after living with 11 strangers in Oak Bluffs and making few real friends over the summer. Much more to come in a new blog after the move to the city.

Yesterday my coworker Gilbert, the 60-something-year-old French waiter at Mediterranean I've deemed the best friend I've made on Martha's Vineyard, knowing it might have been my last day at the restaurant, gave me -- GAVE me!! -- his original "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" record as a parting gift and a souvenir of the summer. He said he listened to it the day before and it still sounds great. After a summer of hitting my stride as a Beatles fanatic and listening to their albums around the clock (halfway through disc two of "The White Album" as I write this, and no, I'm not exaggerating, I've hardly listened to anything but the Beatles and one new EELS album since June) and talking endlessly about the Beatles history, trivia, songs and styles with Gilbert, I was close to tears at this gesture. Incredibly kind and generous. Gilbert, who spent years in New York in the '60s and '70s, is soon to become my pen pal once I settle down in the city.

Okay, you want that Obama news. The most entertaining part of his visit came in the form of brief stories from the New York Times. He was in my neck of the woods a few times, but I never saw him. He ate at The Sweet Life on my street, but I was at work. He got takeout from Nancy's, not far off my street, but I wasn't around. He golfed at Mink Meadows, a course I was assigned to write about this week for the newspaper, on the same day I'd planned to go and interview some folks there. I lost my motivation to bike over and found out within an hour that Obama was golfing there. Other than that, the only other sign Obama was here for a week was an influx of satellite-dished news trucks, congestion on Circuit Avenue and the high point of the Obama merchandise zeitgeist. I originally had a photo blog planned for just this, but the New York Times beat me to the punch with an article a couple weeks ago. A few photos showing the zanier side of the Presidential preparation below.

The new aquarium on Circuit Ave welcomes the Obamas, later paints offer for free admission for Sasha and Malia.

Sharky's has been, without a doubt, the most ardent dreamer for an in-house Obama visit.

Scores of T-shirts like this are everywhere.

Front page of the Obama-themed Vineyard Gazette from Friday, Aug. 21, two days before the First Family flew in.

Every ad in the front section of the newspaper was geared toward the President.

Illumination Night

The Grand Illumination, or Illumination Night, lit up the cottages of Oak Bluffs for the 140th time on Wednesday night. Fortunately Mary was on the Vineyard with me for the last time this summer and we enjoyed the festivities together.

This grand house is in Ocean Park, a small hop from the focal point of Illumination Night, but still saw fit to celebrate. I think this is where the Norton Antivirus guy lives.

We arrived in the MV Camp Meeting Association Grounds (the spot with all the gingerbread cottages) fashionably late -- there were somewhere between 2,000 and 5,000 people already gathered, filling the Tabernacle and sitting on blankets on the grass, blaring songs like "Amazing Grace" and "I've Been Working on the Railroad" in a community sing.

The Tabernacle on the night of the Grand Illumination.

At 9 p.m., scores of paper lanterns hanging from the eaves and balconies of all the cottages were lit, many with candles, some with electric bulbs. The crowd dispersed from the Tabernacle and began a long, slow swirl of awe around the campground. The lanterns were intricate and beautiful, the atmosphere respectful and joyous, and the evening's numbers boggling -- so many glowsticks being swung and tossed by children, so many Illumination participants meandering along cottage lawns, so many delicate lanterns hanging brightly. I had to wonder how long the cottage owners maintain them for this one night of glory, and how the tiny cottages even have space to store so many fragile objects.


James Sanford really dug into the Illumination and blogged it here; the Vineyard Gazette also published a story. Yes, they somehow managed to fit an Illumination Night story in their Obama edition on Friday, an issue riddled with 11 Obama-centric stories and peppered with many other presidentially-tinged pieces. More to come tomorrow, when the President lands on the island for his weeklong stay and I post an entry about the ruckus that's been steadily building on the Vineyard.

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Coda to yesterday's entry: Mediterranean was the initial focus in a Boston Globe article titled "The action begins on the Vineyard." The premise: Although the President isn't here yet, plenty of big-name visitors are. Mediterranean hosted a gala for the cable channel BET with Erykah Badu performing on a stage in our dining room. My manager, Mike Ritchie, a great guy from Toronto, is the first source quoted in the article.

Celebrified

Martha's Vineyard has been called Hollywood East, but for the better part of 14 weeks on the Vineyard, it has failed to sum up my experience. Although my friends have waited on Steve Carell at Giordano's, rung up Meg Ryan at the Katama General Store and seen Redman of Wu-Tang smoking THAT GANJ outside my restaurant, I hadn't seen anyone noteworthy until recently.

So: Spike Lee walked into Mediterranean the other night. It was awesome. He supposedly lives nearby.

Spike Lee peered into the bar at Mediterranean with something like this surly look.

A few weeks ago, Skip Gates, a Harvard prof and recent participant of the four-man White House Beer Summit, ate at Mediterranean. On the same night, I asked Gilbert how he was doing, and his reply was, "Ahh, the Belushis, always needing something..."

For the record, I've never heard a Vineyarder say anything nice about Jim Belushi or Spike Lee. I was still intrigued to see both, enough so to do a little main dining room creeping to scope them out eating, being normal people. The coolest celebrity experience thus far was Belushi taking the stage with Johnny Hoy and the Bluefish, the band at Med that evening, and singing a few blues songs with them. On the final track, Belushi busted out a harmonica and dueled with the harmonica wizard Johnny Hoy. Super cool.

Rewinding to Skip Gates, I just dug this up on Travel and Leisure's website: Gates's testimony as to why Martha's Vineyard, and Oak Bluffs in particular, is his favorite place. I like reading sentimental writing about the Vineyard.

Keep your eyes peeled -- I've got a flurry of blogs coming as August winds to a close and the prez's vacation draws nearer.

Nothing gold can stay

There's not much permanence here.

Oak Bluffs was once Cottage City. Vineyard Haven is actually Tisbury, but listed officially as Vineyard Haven in numerous instances. All kinds of restaurants and shops this year just opened, are in new locations, new ownership, new theme. Hearing locals talk about the island's past, almost all the places they're fond of have washed away with the tides and come back in different iterations. Another thing that would drive me crazy here. In a wedding story I did, the couple fondly referenced a post-nuptial brunch at Lola's. It doesn't exist anyone. (It's Mediterranean now, where I work.) I wonder what the actual turnover rate with businesses here is.

Et tu, Edgartown? One name couldn't pull you through three and a half centuries?

This all leads to a lack of community, as well. I'm sure any stalwart Vineyarder would tell you differently, but a place where people summer (using the season as a verb makes me shudder) inevitably is a place with a shifty community. You may live in a house year round, then be happy to have neighbors come June, then be unsettled when you realize, oops, they were weekly rentals, your new neighbors will be arriving shortly. Best of luck forming a true bond and sense of community.

There's certainly something here that draws people to come for a lifetime, as it's happened 20,000 or so times, enough to flesh out a year-round population. But I doubt it's the reliability or permanence of the place. More likely the isolation or eccentricity of island life that calls to some.