Do you ever wonder about Andy Rooney? Miss Snippy does. Mostly, Miss Snippy wonders how she can get his old job.
We don’t wish to brag, but no one can contemplate the mundane and mediocre like yours truly. Musings on masonry? Heavens, yes. A treatise on tuna salad? Look no further. Still not convinced? Listen in while we work on our résumé.
Miss Snippy wonders why most drivers departing the ferry cannot see her sitting right there in her car, simply wanting to get from the library to the IGA. They stop in a solid row, blocking all access to or across the road while they idle. How can they be blind to a woman only a few feet away, pleading with big, doe eyes?
In attempting to mind-meld with these clueless (or just plain selfish) members of the human race, we begin with a telepathic “let me in” and proceed to thoughts — and perhaps gestures — not fit for mention in a respectable family paper such as this.
Miss Snippy knows that driving in Kingston is a metaphor for life: If one aspires to get anywhere, one must be bold. Give Miss Snippy an inch and she’ll make a merge. The secret to living in Kingston (listen up you new-comers!) can be summed up in a single word: acceleration.
Have you ever wondered what would happen if one decided, just for the heck of it, to pull into the open spaces between cars lined up for a two-boat wait along the highway on a sunny summer Sunday? As soon as the angry mob approaches, one could pull out and move up the road to the next open spot. One could pass a memorable afternoon this way; perhaps a little too memorable if the car you’ve just pulled in front of has a “You Can Take My Gun When You Pry It From My Cold, Dead Fingers” bumper sticker.
Do you ever wonder why the West Kingston/Miller Bay Road intersection has a double set of lights facing the direction of Miller Bay? Yes, Miss Snippy does too.
Do you ever wonder who David H. Wolfle was and what he did to deserve having a school named after him?
Do you ever wonder why Ukulele Guy carries a ukulele? More portable than a guitar? Cuter than a banjo? No iPod?
Do you ever wonder why any customer of Columbia Bank would choose to use the drive-thru on Fridays when there are fresh-baked cookies inside? True, the drive-thru offers dog biscuits, but they aren’t really the same, are they? No chocolate chips, for one thing. On Fridays, Miss Snippy has been known to drop by the bank to get change for a dollar in order to avail herself of a cookie or two. Yes, one could bake a cookie, or buy a cookie, but one feels one has scored a cosmic coup when biting into a treat both fresh and free.
And so Miss Snippy ponders Kingston’s many mysteries while wondering what Andy Rooney’s got that she ain’t got.
Maybe it’s the eyebrows.
— Wendy Tweten and her alter-ego Miss Snippy are long-time students of Kingston’s obscure, ordinary, and odd. Reach them for comment at wendy@wendytweten.com.
