Codger and Cur II were walking along West Neck Road the other day when they came face to face with a young woman powering toward them. Cur II took an excessive interest in her, which she handled coolly, leading to polite chit-chat.
Then Codger cleared his throat and said, “You know, it’s none of my business, but you might be safer facing traffic.”
She looked slightly baffled. “Why? I like to switch back and forth.” (more…)
Now that Shelter Island has an international reputation as “an exclusive Hamptons island” with “extremely picky locals,” Codger thinks it’s time to seize the narrative before Fox does it for us with even more spin and fake news. (Those quotes appeared in Rupert Murdoch’s New York Post and News Corp Australia online.)
According to the Foxification, picked up by Vanity Fair, the recent divisiveness on Shelter Island turns out not to be about short-term rentals (STRs), sewage or deer management, but about an HBO shoot.
If it wasn’t happening right here and now, thinks Codger, this short-term rental (STR) controversy, including the public hearing two weeks ago and the snitty responses ever since, might be viewed as grand entertainment, a Game of Homes without the sex and blood, at least not yet. (more…)
Should Shelter Island ever sink into the Sound, imagines Codger, it would be under the unimaginable weight of thousands of short-term rental (STR) attic rooms, basement apartments, accessory buildings owned by impecunious widows, striving young families and rapacious stealth hoteliers hosting sweet new couples, adorable young families and fraternity louts in neighborhoods unaware of their presence and half-crazed by the endless growls of their cars and motorcycles. (more…)
REPORTER FILE PHOTO Codger and Crone.
The getaway was sweet, Crone at the wheel, Codger riding shotgun, Cur II supposedly at lookout in the back but already asleep.
The New York Presbyterian eastside medical empire shrank in the rear view mirror. Up ahead, the LIE unspooled, light traffic this Sunday but incessant blinking signs warning of a coming storm.
Codger, in his neck brace, croaked to Crone, “Will we make it?”
“Already have,” she muttered. (more…)