Dans Papers - May 18, 2007 - The Sheltered Islander #448

In this paper last week, Dan wrote an article about the fact that East Hampton only issues about 2,500 hundred beach permits a year. With all the new rules, it seems like not even a summer dweller can get a permit on his first summer, they must prove their loyalty to the Hampton of the East by coming back for a second summer and only then, along with a commitment of seven years indentured servitude of their firstborn, can they get a beach permit.

Dan wrote that the big hubbub was to get access to this one particular beach, which has a gazebo and nice beach pavilions. Dan suggested the Town spend the relatively small amount of money it would take to upgrade East Hampton's other four beaches and that this would reduce the clamor for these permits. Realizing that this easy solution makes sense and is cost effective, Dan also realized such a solution could never be passed by any governmental body, and certainly not one as powerful as a Town Board. So he suggested ways that residents could profit from leasing their permits, for profit, to summerites.

I thought of some other way East Hamptonites who don't need access to the gazebo beach (because they know of lots of other places to swim) could do to profit from this opportunity.

First, make sure the Town has no intention of increasing the number of permits issued. Scarcity is the key to profit.

Next, buy an old bomb of a car -- a beach car with sand on the floor and towel racks across the back. Since the permit is tied to a specific car, get the permit and then rent the car! Charge $50 for a day rental. Any patrolling police will assume the car belongs to a local, because no rich, self-respecting tourist would drive such a bomb and none of them would know how to arrange beach shells into a little scene on the dashboard -- that's a local skill.

Another idea. Forge and sell phony beach permits. If visas, social security cards and driver's licenses can be forged, beach permits have to be child's play. All you need is a good printer and a fast car.

Another idea for a local group -- steal the stupid little canvas pavilions and put them up on one of the other town beaches during the night. When people arrive at the gazebo beach in the morning and discover the little canvas tents gone, they'll call the police and the investigation will keep them busy all day. Meanwhile, on another beach, people will be walking onto the beach saying, "Wow! The Town finally put up some nice beach pavilions here!" Nobody will call the police to report the APPEARANCE of beach tents. And they won't suspect they were taken from the gazebo beach, because they aren't at the gazebo beach to know they're gone. And even if they did suspect they were taken from the gazebo beach, they still wouldn't call the police, because their kids and all their beach stuff is IN one of the pieces of evidence. Not to mention, some local with vision will pull up with a concession cart and make a fortune.

But what happens when the Town discovers that the tents have been moved? Ah, that's the real beauty of my plan. You see, once the residents and visitors discover that beach tents can be erected on beaches other than the gazebo beach, the idea will hit them -- is it possible that beach pavilions can coexist on more than one beach in East Hampton without affecting the time-space continuum? And if that can happen, can more than 2,500 permits be issued without wrinkling the fabric of space?

I know that East Hampton is very important. I know that East Hampton is the center of HamptonWorld, as it has been ever since they got the broomstick of the Hampton of the West. And I know that nobody gets to see the Wizard, not no way, not no how. I think the only way to see him is to get a magical beach permit -- that's why they're so rare -- because Wizard appears in the gazebo at midnight, when the moon is full and the tequila is gone.

Yes, that must be the secret of the Hampton of the East. They must have the Wizard of Fine Design captive in the gazebo at the beach. It explains everything -- the plethora of designers in East Hampton, the clamor for all of them to go to this one beach, the limited permits. It all fits together, like a summer ensemble.