To the Editor:
It’s lonely being the last remaining passing zone between the Gay Head Cliffs and Quansoo, after the street painters obliterated all my kith and kin this spring. Crawling down the state highway, their yellow squirter-sled callously erased all remnants of my brethren.
Why such devastation, you may ask? Was it simple laziness of the paint crew, as manipulating the controls to introduce paintless bare spots between their unrelenting lane-keeping barrier required too much effort? Did some distracted bureaucrat in Boston simply forget to issue proper directions? Or did some autocephalous overlord simply issue orders to keep the booboisies in line, with no opportunity of escape? Perhaps a misplaced aesthetic drove some unqualified political appointee to mandate the continuity as a lame symmetry, enhancing their sense of control. Perhaps the paint manufacturer merely influenced the comptrollers to encourage the use of more paint.
Perhaps I digress in my loneliness and lack of intelligent conversation from my peers. Yet the move certainly does not enhance safety, any more than keeping Chilmark’s road narrow did when all the other roads were widened.
Yet here I lie in trepidation; fearfully awaiting next year’s visit of the paint crew. I work to maintain the forlorn hope better lights shine at the Massachusetts DOT that may allow me a reprieve from obliteration, or perhaps the restoration of my lost fellows. May my hopes not be in vain.
James A. Glavin