To whom it May Concern,
“Hark, a farting on the wind?” I thought me this morning past. After a brief silence, the notion was swept from my razor-keen mind. And then another twoozling flatulence… could it be vagrants, airing their bowels beneath my window?
Arising from the comfort of my warm and secure bed I understood from whence the unholy racket came: a musical practice space, newly built. Within, trumpets! Tubas! Then violins, xylophones and clanging cymbals, all maneuvered with the skill of invalids.
Who’d dare assault the aural firmament with such racket? Indeed, who are you, my foe?
Whosoever you are, this shall not stand! The pursuit of happiness was writ deep into the fabric of this nation! You shall see that your bellowing bulwark of a-sonorous thunder shall not swerve me from my own path to happiness!
Grudgingly Signed,
Blackest Enemy / Wrath Most-Deserved / Ephraim Sepsquander Walcott
Dear Mr. Walcott,
We’re very sorry that our 1st grade band practice interrupted you yesterday morning.
Lilac Hill Elementary is extremely proud of its new band room. Unfortunately, we’ve had to keep the windows open to provide some much needed cross-breeze, as the school’s A/C is currently under repair.
We’ll be sure to keep the windows closed moving forward and we hope that you accept our apology.
Best,
Principal Edwin G. Pienerman
To Whom It May Concern,
My foe has a name; it is Pienerman.
Indeed, I noted your closed windows. Yet still, your minion’s hoozling squawk reached my dull ears. How is it that a man who can scarcely hear the roar of a jet engine from seven paces can discern every wheeze of your loosely wrangled cacophony?
I may be old, but a fool I am not! I know your plan, Pienerman! You mean to drive me mad!
Well, no Walcott has ever knuckled under when confronted with the pendulous gut of authority. I think of you not as human, my bureaucratic bugbear. I think of you as a flea, ripe for the crushing beneath my righteous boot!
If I hear but the gas of a mole come from the bowels of your
“music” space, rest assured that this limb of the noble Walcott family tree will come crashing down upon your institution.
Grudgingly Signed,
Discontent’s Buzzard / Looming Righteous Vengeance / Ephraim Sepsquander Walcott
Dear Mr. Walcott,
Mr. Tibbin’s, our band director, currently holds practice from 10:30 AM to 11:15 AM, on Wednesdays and Fridays. Looking from the band room, we noticed that your windows were open during rehearsal. Perhaps, can you try closing them, just at those times? I think this would help the noise problem you’ve been having.
Also, we hope to see you at this week’s Cake Walk in support of the Lilac Hill Public library. It will be from 4:00 to 6:00 PM in the School’s West parking lot.
Best,
Principal Edwin G. Pienerman
To Whom It May Concern,
I know your kind, Pienerman: craven cunning. Stick out your forked tongue, you snake! Snakeman! Close my windows? Why I’d rather close my mouth up and starve.
I surveyed your confectionary satanic ritual from my study. Tiny menaces to society capering about a king’s ransom of sugar and cacao! You think me fool enough to stumble into your sweeted mantrap? NO!
The devil take your cakes and your windows! This is no practice, man! This is war.
Blood for blood. The keening shriek of wasted youth! The wooly mustaches of callous generals twitching in surveillance of the scarred, the wounded, and the grisly dead! We two, Pienerman — you and I — are locked in the inverse brotherhood of aggression. Stand and fight, or I’ll pulp you like the flopping mudfish you are!
Lilac Hill Cemetery. Pistols at dawn.
Grudgingly Signed,
Quencher of the Pienerman Strain / Fate’s Booming Klaxon / Ephraim Sepsquander Walcott
While I try to be civil as the Principal of Lilac Hill Elementary and respected figure of authority in this community, Mr. Walcott, I cannot brush off threats of physical violence.
If you continue to have difficulties with our band’s practice, I suggest you take it up with local authorities. I have alerted them to our disagreement.
Best,
Principal Edwin G. Pienerman
To Whom It May Concern,
Yesterday morn, the silent cemetery, a frigid dawn. Dark mist covered my audience: breathless members of the great majority. I stood alone, boots astride the grave of my father, waiting in vain for a coward to arrive. Is it any wonder that no man came?
You’ve brought this on yourself, Pienerman. I am now the nameless ronin. I am now the curse unleashed! I am now the bump in your bureaucratic night!
I come for you Pienerman!
In fact, I thank you, poltroon. I thank you for this divine purpose: to ensure the scales of blind, beautiful justice weigh rightly the hearts of mongrels and men. Your auditory slights, your continued malfeasance, and your shameful yellow belly have — in their execrable trinity — forged in the smithy of my soul the divine hammer of retribution!
Repent, Pienerman! Judgment cometh! And that right soon!
Grudgingly Signed,
Minos’ Furious Broodling / The Scythe’s Silent Arc / Ephraim Sepsquander Walcott
LOCAL VETERAN CITED FOR NOISE COMPLAINT
By Contributor - Verner Studebaker
LILAC HILL — Eighty-eight year old veteran, Ephraim Sepsquander Walcott, was cited for a noise violation at approximately 11:15 PM last evening, May 26th.
The trouble started when Walcott, a former member of the 181st Airborne, began to yell — for what his neighbors assumed was help. Walcott was found ensnared by his bathrobe in the fence that divides his house’s property line from that of Lilac Hill Elementary School. A grocery bag filled with legal fireworks was found nearby.
“He sounded angry, that’s for sure,” said plumber Mert Benson, a neighbor of Walcott’s. “’Thanos! Why have you forsaken me!’ He was hollering that over and over. I went to help but he wasn’t having any of it.” Walcott fought off do-gooders’ attempts at aid with his signature rosewood shillelagh walking stick. “My kids were sleeping” Benson continued. ”So I just had to do something about the noise.”
Upon arrival, two officers were also threatened by Walcott. While freeing Walcott, Officer Grant Snydaeler received a shillelagh bruise to his upper thigh. He will not be pressing charges.
“Pienerman toyed with fate!” said Walcott, in video footage captured by Police dashboard camera. “He dared str… (INAUDIBLE)… and now lounges upon justice’s unyielding anvil!”
“You!” Walcott said to the officers present. “You purported stewards of our forefather’s iron law — have meddled in dealings far above your station! All of you now share Pienerman’s cursed fate.”
Officers cited Walcott and saw that the agitated veteran made it back safely into his home.
When contacted for comment Walcott did not respond.
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FOOD: 4.8
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So what you really want to know is: how does Martha’s Vineyard lobster compare to that of Maine? I’ll first say that if MV and Maine had to go head to head, the Net Result would absolutely be my first choice when it comes to finding the freshest of MA lobstahs. So, first, allow me to take you through what the Net Result has going for it. |
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PRICE: Sea Level |
No gouging here. Sure, $15 for a lobster roll isn’t cheap, but it’s also the going rate for a crustacean pretty much anywhere near salt water. Fat wallets will feel more comfortable buying up pounds upon pounds of fish. Slim wallets, however, will not be forced out. |
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AMBIENCE: Fish Smell |
Fish markets come with fish smells. With two counters — one for take-out, one for picking out fresh fishies — the Net Result is little more than that. However, a near constant stream at both the take-out and raw fish counters ensures that the fish doesn’t last — making your fish that much more fresh. The outdoor seating area is comfortable, though it must be noted that a near-constant stream of exhaust-puffing vehicles accompanies most outings. |
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SERVICE: Mainland Time |
When crowded, takeout orders take time indeed. However, the pace of the kitchen’s work isn’t anything to get your halyard in a knot over. And for the seafood counter, ordering ahead ensures your fish is ready when they say it will be. |
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EAT OR
SKIP: Eat |
So you should eat at the Net Result. This is understood and incontrovertible. But now we reach the true question: is it truly better than a fresh Maine lobster — the spirit animal of every true Mainer?
I must side in the camp of… negative.
I can say that after trying many of both, there is something about the Maine lobster that pushes it a notch above its Massachusetts counterpart. While lobsters of the Net Result are delicious — seriously, these lobsters spring fresh from the trap — they simply cannot match the fall-apart succulence of Maine’s signature crustacean. Maybe it’s the fact that so often is life hard for the Mainer — between weather, mayflies, terrain, and weather — the Maine lobster’s taste is amplified by hardship. Or perhaps it’s due more to the colder Maine waters having some sort of delishifying affect on our clawed friends.
Whatever the case, don't take this as a dismissal of Mass lobster. Good gracious have I had more than one incredible lobster from the Net Result in particular (and from many other places for that matter). I am simply going to put my stake in the ground for this northerly state in saying that Maine’s lobstah is THE lobstah. |
The Net Result
Tisbury Market Place
79 Beach Rd
Vineyard Haven, MA 02568