Letter: There’s no use growling over Growler noise

Editor,

Before moving to the island, a growler was a jug of overpriced beer I’d grab on my way out of a brewpub. After leaving Ohio, I picked up a new definition: loud jets that cause contention.

As an Oak Harbor newcomer, I feel like I can give a third-party perspective on the Growler situation. It’s not my place to convert, but rather be a positive in the sea of two-party negativity. Nothing is monochrome.

For years, I lived in Dayton, Ohio: home to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and other Wright brothers-themed locales. Dayton is a vital place in the history of flight. Our town propelled the Wrights to go do cool stuff in North Carolina. We call that a win in Ohio.

I only recall a handful of instances when I thought about a plane when I wasn’t on one. Out of earshot, out of mind. Aside from alleged alien autopsies and UAPs, something must’ve happened at Wright-Patt while I was there. The evidence wasn’t as loud as it is here.

I didn’t relocate because of the Navy. That should be clear by now. When my girlfriend, Rachel, accepted a position at the periodical you’re currently reading, I followed because I thought living on an island would be a cool say.

I work remotely, meaning I have time to browse WebMD. Sometimes I think I’m a hypochondriac, but that might be the hypochondria talking. Not everything’s out to get me, although it’s difficult to convince me when there are jets flying above our apartment.

I feel Growlers rattle our dishes. At first, I thought they were just annoying me, like hazing the new kid in town. But Growlers are immediate, noisy proof that the Navy’s training is in effect. It’s not to spite me.

There are two arguments about the Growler expansion: (a) it’s bad for environmental reasons – gasses, disruption, endangered species – and (b) they do it to protect, so shut up. Two camps, two steadfast opinions.

If I favor one side, I still find good in the other. I love the environment. I love that I’m not the one in the sky. I love The West Wing at full volume.

Maybe I see noise pollution differently because I’m a transplant. Though I recognize the Growlers’ presence, I go about my day focusing on things that can hurt me (whatever’s new on WebMD).

Like words, sounds become part of our lexicon. We don’t analyze “the” every time we see it; we just accept that “the” is a word. The growls of the Growlers have become a “the” in my limited vocabulary. If I sense rumbling, I ready my remote to hear Allison Janney make witty remarks at Bradley Whitford’s expense.

Ignorance is a gift. The Growlers are up there and I’m not. Though comparable decibels, my TV volume has yet to be complained about. But, I’m not doing it to spite my neighbors. I’m doing it because it’s my duty to watch all of The West Wing by 2023.

Brandon Berry

Oak Harbor