A tale of whoa

There's a tale I used to tell. A friend came in one day, shaking his head. He'd just bought zoris and, after thinking about how things run out on Saipan, went back for another pair. The store was out, of course, and the sales clerk told him they probably wouldn't reorder because they couldn't keep the shelves stocked.

I recently saw the story on the Saipan sucks website.*

Now, I repeated the anecdote, a lot, because of what it said about human nature. What struck me was that it was now being used as a putdown of the entire island. It's been a lot of years, but I don't think the clerk was even local. Doesn't matter anyway, the joke was never ethnic to me.

I don't think the staunchest defender will deny that the Commonwealth has serious problems. There are a lot of disagreements about what they are, how to fix them and even about who can fix them.

It's obvious that whoever runs that site had horrible, even life-changing, experiences here. I check it once or twice a year to see what's new. It's articulate, well-written and scores some points. But overall, it's just a black hole of negativity. No suggestions, except to write the place off.

I used to drive a horrible beater that gave me constant problems. On two different occasions people went out of their way to get me back on the road, once in the middle of the night halfway up Capitol Hill. They both had reputations as haole-haters. Hate's a bit strong, but yeah. That's the Saipan I know. (I even thought about voting for them when they later ran for office)

This story kick got started because I was enjoying The relationship between moral health & a blind wife over at marianaseye.blogspot.com From a stray comment, I suspect the Lone Arranger and sidekick Roboto put him up to blogging.

* I'll mention them, but no live link. My troth is pledged to We Love Saipan.