Small Town Paper

The Martha's Vineyard Times is very much a local paper. It is full of those odd stories, like the one discussing the upcoming Chicken Alley Art Show in Vineyard Haven, prevalent in those local papers where the citizenry knows all the goings on of their community. I usually scan the paper, looking for yard sales and upcoming events. The surprising thing is how much goes on here, despite it being a small island. There seems to be no shortage of writers here, hawking their newest books by giving readings or talks. Alan Dershowitz is here, giving a talk on his newest book. Stephen Carter is signing and reading from his newest novel. For someone without children, it would be an action packed week if you were to make an effort to attend all the goings on.

My favorite part of the paper is the lost and found section under the classifieds, something that can only exist in a small town. People place the ad, which is free, for lost items like the Saab Car Keys, or for those items, like the Ipod, found by strangers. The ads are rarely elaborate, although some seem to tell stories, or rather, read like the beginning of a story to me. "Found Prescription Glasses on State Beach at bend-in-the-road. Edgartown. Please call 508-693-6110." "Sold at Sunday Yard Sale! Five-drawer tall bureau purchased at yard sale on Sunday, July 15, at 599 Edgartown Road, WT had daughter's special books, etc., in top drawer. Please, please call 508-889-6734."

Can you imagine the idea of such a section in any other place? Forget New York and LA, but even a suburban town would find it difficult to have such a section without it bordering it on the absurd. I guess this column speaks to something we've lost: empathy for others in our community. We live in a world where people rarely give up their seat for the pregnant woman or the elderly. And if someone does extend such a gesture, there is something faintly old world about it. People rarely know their neighbors, especially in LA, where gates prevail, much less be concerned about those that live next door.

In our current culture where every parent seems to be raising their child in the hopes of them becoming a CEO, everyone desperate to imbue their offspring with a sense of entitlement, whether it is truly justified or not, this trend of only looking out for oneself seems destined to get worse. What happened to the adage of 'doing on to others as you hope others would do on to you'? If this saying were applied to our behavior today, we would be telling the world we want it to disregard me for whatever disability I am suffering, to sit by and watch with amusement as someone vandalized my property, to make me invisible because of my immigrant--legal or not--status, to not give a damn whether my kids were getting educated or not, to be unconcerned for the fact I have no health insurance, etc. It is a world that is constantly telling us and our children we are only responsible for ourselves. And f**k the rest of the world because their woes and worries have nothing to do with my life, particularly if my life is such where I don't have any of those concerns that seem to plague a certain, large, population of our country.

This is what makes this small town paper so precious in its refusal, or rather, in its determination to uphold those tradition of caring for the greater community, a value that had been the fabric of our country. This is a place where the various churches hold Lobster roll dinner nights, where every civic organization holds a pancake breakfast, attended by those in the neighborhood.

I realize how special, how unusual all of this is in our world. And so each week, I look forward to this odd little paper, devouring its unique stories about fishermen that have caught the largest striped bass of the summer. It is the newspaper that gives me a glimpse into a world that has long disappeared, yet the echo of such goodness can still be witnessed here.