EDITOR’S COLUMN | There’s plenty to do for the restlessly awake

Every weekend is the same. I turn in Friday with big plans to sleep in late. I tell myself that this time is going to be different, that I’m not rolling out of bed until 8 a.m. no matter what. And it’s gonna be awesome. Right.

Every weekend is the same. I turn in Friday with big plans to sleep in late. I tell myself that this time is going to be different, that I’m not rolling out of bed until 8 a.m. no matter what. And it’s gonna be awesome.

Right.

Without fail, I am hopelessly awake by 6:45 a.m. It happens every Saturday, like clockwork. In fact, it’s become increasingly clear that, for me, sleeping in is nothing but a foolish dream. It may even be a condition. If it were, I’d call it Neurotic Unrelenting Tomfoolery Syndrome, or NUTS for short.

Luckily for me and other early risers on the island, there’s always lots to do on South Whidbey. This Saturday, for example, I could hit the 10 a.m. Democratic caucus at South Whidbey High School or at 11 a.m. head over to Langley for Bunny Daze, a first-ever event created to capitalize on the city’s rabbit fever. There will be no NUTS there I’m sure, but it could be fun all the same.

I’m looking forward to the caucus. I missed the Republican caucuses in February, and I feel rotten about it. They were scheduled the same day as The Record’s lawmaker forum at the WiFire. By the time I realized the mistake it was too late. In retrospect, I should have asked organizers to reschedule their event. Republicans are a reasonable bunch and they probably would have been happy to bend.

Oh well, next time.

Whidbey’s weather also provides opportunity for the restlessly awake. Last weekend, I helped with some forest clean up. The event started at 9 a.m., which of course was no problem being that I’d been awake for hours by that point. I was 15 minutes late.

Nevertheless, I was awarded with a leaf blower and instructed to clear a parking lot of all pine needles, twigs and other storm refuse. It was pretty fun. These are the big gas-powered leaf blowers mind you, the kind you wear as a backpack and come with a trigger. I felt like Rambo — no leaf was safe. My only adversary was my fellow pine needle warrior, a veteran with his own gear. I won’t lie, we bumped elbows a bit in our bids to be leaf-blower champ, but we kept things in check.

It’s not like we’re NUTS or something.

 

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