An Open Letter

Dear Bainbridge Island,

I wanted to let you know that I think I love you. The til death do us part kind of love. I realize it’s still relatively early in our relationship – barely six months in. What some might call the Honeymoon Phase. So maybe I’m still blinded by your small town charm, smarts and overwhelming beauty. But I do think we’ll go the distance.

It’s true we are still getting to know each other. To be quite frank, I’m not quite sure I have you completely figured out just yet. I’m happy you voted for Obama and seem to be overwhelmingly democrat and liberal. Yet, I don’t see many residents of color.  On the surface you appear to be a very authentic city and down to earth. But the more I get to know you, the more I see that there is somewhat of a pretentiousness to you. It seems you like the finer things in life and spending money to get them isn’t a concern.

I’m sometimes fooled by your jeans, sneakers and pull overs into believing you are like any other middle class small town. But then there are the expensivce cars on your roads and opulent homes along your shores. However, you don’t seem to be a snob about all that material stuff. After all, what city doesn’t want the finer things in life?

All I ask is that you don’t judge me. I might drive a dirty (OK filthy) base model minivan and wear Merona jeans and t-shirts, but I’m just as sophisticated and witty as you. Sure, I come from a large beach town where we all call each other “dude”,  are always searching for the perfect wave and “dress for dinner” means wearing a shirt. That doesn’t mean I can’t keep up with you. I have  couple pairs of designer jeans in my stash and a graduate degree. I’m no slouch.

I hope you turn out to be the town I think you are, because I really, really like you. You are a great place to raise a family and I’d really like to grow old with you. Don’t let me down, Bainbridge.