In something
of a jocular mood, I recently posted in this space some observations of a
troubling nature. They were about
Bellingham, Washington, a Fourth Corner community beset by a very real problem:
massive amounts of publicity suggesting that people move here because it’s such
a terrific city. I write from a point of
vantage. I live there.
In
suggesting the need for a reverse public relations program to accent the
negative, I used the wise words of a friend, the late Ernie Gann, who refused
to tell the media he lived on nearby San Juan Island. An adventure novelist whose books include The High and the Mighty, Gann figured
the less known about his version of paradise, the better off islanders would
be.
The current
issue of National Geographic Adventure offers
a case in point by listing the “top 50 next great towns” where one can both
live and play. Bellingham is on the list
and among the outdoor hosannas included in the publication’s story, written in
what appears to be some sort of Chamber of Commerce School of Communications
writing style, is: “This is a paddling town.” Not to put too fine a descriptive point on matters but “puddling town”
would have been more accurate due to our over-abundance of rain and more about
that a bit later.
At the risk
of being called an alarmist, I believe it’s time to inject some good sense into
a situation that keeps worsening. We
must paint for public consumption as dismal a picture of Bellingham as we
possibly can. Get out the verbal tar and
feathers, Bellinghamsters. It’s time we
unsold our fair city to the media.
Having
suggested the possibility of re-writing our current unofficial motto, “City of
Subdued Excitement,” to “City of Sublimely Subdued Subjective Excitement,” I
also offered a further possibility: “Tony Soprano’s Kinda Town.” This, at least for now, is unnecessary.
While
Bellingham has become gallingly comfortable with “City of Subdued Excitement,”
no one has brought up the why of it all. Is there something inherent, perhaps sinisterly so, in ‘hamsters that
makes us lethargic, indifferent, and, yes, depressed? Even something as inconsequential as observing
clothing style in what must be the U.S. Dress Down Capitol offers such limitations
that anything natty here is found almost exclusively in a Bellwether Hotel
dining room or among tourists in Fairhaven. The thought that it was time to explore why ‘hamsters are different was
too compelling to ignore.
My first
stop was at the offices of Dr. I.B. Spacey, our world-renowned master of
medical world stuff and all-around smart ass. Getting quickly to the point, I asked the obvious and received the
following: “You have raised a transcendent question and here’s the answer. ‘Hamsters are suffering from vitamin D
deficiency. It’s been going on a long
time and, in truth, has been one of those dirty little secrets. Check in with other doctors, if you don’t
believe this world-renowned expert. What
you’ll find out is more than 90% of blood tests ordered by doctors here reveal
vitamin D deficiencies.”
This was a
startling piece of news and I plodded forward asking what causes such a
deficiency. Suddenly invoking John
McCain-like familiarity, Dr. Spacey suggested: “It’s the weather, my friend. We rank among the least sunny cities in the
Nation, so low, my friend, that we aren’t even mentioned in Weather Research
Center listings although Quillayute near Port Angeles ranks first in the lower
48 with 239 cloudy days—13 more than Seattle’s 226. Since Bellingham gets 10 more inches of rain
a year than the Emerald City, it figures we must be somewhere in between. No wonder we have a lot of Seasonal Affective
Disorder (SAD) cases.”
It appeared
Dr. Spacey was on to something but there was more ground to cover. Having had our lack of sunshine explained by
an MVP of the medical world, I wondered about Bellingham darkness, the vitamin
D deficiency and possible linkage to the lack of excitement in the city.
“Not having
enough sunshine brings on vitamin D deficiency which, in turn, makes us
lethargic, we acquire low self-esteem and depression sets in. Severe moping ensues, we begin drinking even
more coffee to un-mope ourselves, the Herald prints stories out of Olympia
without localizing them and, what the hey, we do goofy things like pay $49 to
watch unknowns do impressions of Ethel Merman and George Burns.”
Kicking into
high gear, Dr. Spacey appeared nearing conclusion. “We’re all living like moles in a hole in
Bellingham and the answer might be the tanning bed but don’t tell that to
dermatologists. One nationally-known
vitamin D expert suggests everyone take 2,000 IU daily regardless of whether
they live in Bellingham or Palm Springs. Life here is challenging and highly complicated to say the least.”
One of the
complications involves sun-soaked Californians who retire in Bellingham. “I call it the Sun Screen Flummox Factor,”
offered the pre-eminent medical sage. “They continue to slather on big numbered sun screen and rob their
bodies of vitamin D. The result is
linkage to colon, prostate and breast cancer and opens the door to heart
disease, MS and other chronic health problems.”
Warming to
his subject, Dr. Spacey observed: “The really whacko thing is we know so little
about vitamin D. You know why we don’t
know enough about vitamin D? It’s
because it’s so damn cheap and absolutely no one makes any money on it. Get smart, go outside and grab some rays. Just not too many.”
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