The best place to start your journey is the character bio page. There you will be introduced to all the main players in the community.
The 1st Ten
Genesis
Hi, my name is Schmedly Doogle. You may call me Schmedly, or you may call me whatever nickname I’ve concocted that day. It’s a somewhat fluid situation.
Goober’s M-S B-FF
Goober’s Origins
Who Am I?
By now I suspect some are wondering, ‘Who is this Schmedly Doogle, and what does he look like?’
Finster Follies
This afternoon, Goober and I went up the road to see how Paddy and Gore were doing. I left Goober in the driveway and pounded on the big wooden slab that passes for Gore’s front door.
Imports Exported
Goober and I have discovered a unique social-political-gastronomical-ethanological phenomenon: imported beer.
The Service
We have these night church services during the week now and then, depending on the time in the church year it happens to be, and being in the evening and all, sometimes the light and warmth and promise of human interaction attracts some unusual characters, unusual even for this community.
The Fog
I guess it’s pretty obvious we have some unique characters in our community. One of them is named Burleigh Grimes, which may not mean much to most of the population.
The Big One
Goober and I went down to Darnell Bunlap’s house early this morning, to help him catch the big one. Darnell’s been trying to catch the big one since he came here in 1968. Darnell, that is.
Goober The Porschephile
Today, for some obscure reason, Goober decided to chase cars again. I taught him years ago that chasing cars resulted in severe headaches, tired legs, and nausea, but sometimes he forgets.
The Journey Continues
I was advised to offer the first ten stories for free. For a nominal $1.30, of which the author earns a little and PayPal takes most of it, you can select individual stories that interest you.
Or, in response to feedback from loyal readers who didn’t want to wait a week for the next story, I’m offering a twelve-story package! You can now binge read Seaside Stories by bagging three month’s-worth for a bargain rate of $5!
I hope you feel that same sense of ‘Ahhh!’ when you read these stories as I felt when I wrote them.
Here It Is…Take It!
Out on the deck the other morning, basking in the soft sunshine, filtered, as it was, by the receding marine layer; languidly sipping from a hot cup of espresso; feet, shod as they were, in a pair of comfy Navajo moccasins (gifted to me by our lighthouse keeper), up on the railing (the feet and the moccasins—either without the other would have been silly); my soon-to-be- perambulating body clothed, as it was, in a warm fleece pullover and a pair of old but very memory-inducing Odds Bodkins Lacrosse sweatpants (memory-inducing because the woman who gave them to me spent a few weeks at Chez Doogle, hiking the coast range and sharing many wonderful conversations); and on my head rested, as it would, my trusty Knobby’s Bar web cap.
Samuel and the Word Mangler
“I have a friend coming in later today,” Samuel said to a few of us gathered around the cannon for our morning coffee and conversation. “I know I’ve had friends visit now and then, but this one is a little bit different.” Phanny said, “Different than the coder who never left your house except to come in for coffee?”
A Wolf in Cheap Clothing
Our community is a peaceful one. Little if anything controversial happens around Here, and we pride ourselves on maintaining an air of creative relaxation, of intellectual placidity, of tolerant and accepting something-or-other. Nobody around here does anything violent or even purposely offensive. Quirky might be our unofficial moniker, and random might be our tacit motto, but nothing that happens here requires any authoritative presence. Or so our mayor says…well, barks.
What We Do in our Spare Time
Does it seem to you that we around the bucolic hamlet of Here have a plethora of spare time? As in, time not spent working for living or attending to needed chores, such as doing light repairs on our houses; stoking the fire on a chilly day; preparing espresso for the morning cannon chat-and-chew (Phanny often provides a batch of her homemade pastries); feeding our animal friends (both domestic and wild); doing volunteer work in town (sweeping the streets, collecting any trash and storing it for later disposal downcoast, changing the streetlight bulb [it’s in front of Oscar Prosser’s World of Laundry and has only needed changing once in the last two years]); and removing rogue rocks that have tumbled down from the hills and collected on the highway?
Greeks Baring Delts
When taking stock of the residents of Here, one can assess us thusly: physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. One might rightly say that Sleeve McGarrett has the right spiritual stuff. Emotional exceptionalism might reside in myself, for I have never, in my experience, been anything but equanimous, though I might be somewhat biased in my self- evaluation. Mentally would have to go to Diego, for he possess a Marianna Trench of knowledge and will share if asked.