THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, July 26, 1996 TAG: 9607250167
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: 73 lines
Is this the summer doldrums, or what? I've seen dull Julys in Virginia Beach, but this has to be the dullest on record.
So far we've had no scandals, no disasters (natural, or otherwise), no unruly tourists and few unruly locals.
The school district is under budget on red ink cartridges, all City Council members are speaking to each other (so far as I know) and a couple of gentlemen - both named Warner - are taking polite pokes at each other on the senatorial campaign trail.
Even the weather seems to have been hitting the Prozac bottle. Therehave been no drought and no headline-making heat wave, just a handful of intergalactic sparklers as the usual midsummer evening storms pass through.
The tropical storms may be doing their whirling and twirling thing out there in the South Atlantic, but here in the Resort City Big Bad Bertha harrumphed her way out to sea with not much more than an overnight rain dump and a few stray gusts of wind.
This being the case, I decided to call a few of my friends to find out what's new and unusual in their lives.
``What's the most exciting thing you've done this summer?'' I asked Effie. She didn't hesitate for a second.
``I took my newspapers to the recycling bin,'' she told me.
``That's it?'' I asked.
``No,'' she told me, ``there's more. There was actually room in the container for them. Can you believe that? After all the stuff I've read and heard about overflowing recycling locations, I found one that could hold all of my newspapers. And on my first try, too.''
``Wow, that is impressive,'' I told her.
``I think so,'' she replied. ``It was such a good experience that tomorrow I'm planning to take all of my old telephone books and see if there's room for them, too.''
I wished her luck and called Fiona, changing the form of my question just a bit.
``If you were looking for excitement at the Beach this summer, where would you go?'' I asked.
``To my TV set,'' she answered without hesitation.
``For the Olympics?'' I asked.
``No, for the local weather on Channel 3,'' she told me. ``I just think that rooftop format with that propeller duck flapping its wings in the background is about the most exciting thing on the tube this summer.''
I have to admit that to a certain extent she has a point. Greg, Pete and the duck are more exciting than PGA golf or the underwater swim competition. But for my money they can't hold a candle to that new dog food commercial where the pup quits chomping on his mom and ends up head over tea-kettle in the chow bag.
I thanked Fiona for her input and called my next door neighbor, Borrowing George.
``So what have you done for excitement this summer?'' I queried.
``I bought a new T-shirt,'' he told me.
``Something nice with pink flamingos or `South of the Border' on it?'' I asked.
``Better,'' he answered. ``It's dark blue with - are you ready for this?''
``Fire away,'' I told him.
``The word SPAM in great big yellow letters!'' he announced triumphantly.
It was time to call Henrietta to see where she was finding her excitement.
``At flea markets and garage sales,'' she told me, all aflutter. ``I discovered a lava lamp, a black velvet painting of a bullfighter and a Perry Como album in Aragona last Saturday,'' she chirped.
``Wow!'' I responded. ``Anything else?''
``Oh my, yes,'' she told me. ``I found an ash tray from the 1964 New York World's Fair in Alanton and four matching A&W mugs in Fairfield.''
``That was you who bought my root beer mugs?'' I asked in disbelief.
``That was you who had already sold the Yogi Bear bedspreads and the Hot Wheels track?'' she gasped, equally disbelieving.
We made plans to meet for lunch. by CNB