March 2009


Michael Jackson's message to the people of Bremerton: You Wanna Be Startin' Something? You got to be starting something."

Michael Jackson's message to the people of Bremerton: You Wanna Be Startin' Something? You got to be starting something."

So, Bremelog headquarters received its first piece of snail mail this week. Nice chap by the name of Jerry Scott, who believes that the new tunnel downtown (that’s why you don’t have your McDonalds. OK, one of the reasons), should be named after the man who was its “most ardent supporter and led the way to get this tunnel built.” He thinks the tunnel should be named the Bozeman Tunnel after Mayor Cary Bozeman.

And while I think a strong case can be made for Mr. Bozeman, I think Mr. Scott and other Bremerton do-gooders should consider the following options:

“Gibb’s Place,” after Bremerton son/Death Cab for Cutie frontman Ben “I Will Follow You Into the Dark (Tunnel?)” Gibbard

“P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Tunnel),” in honor of Bremerton son Quincy Jones, producer of the Michael Jackson album Thriller and its track “P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)”

“L. Ron Tunnel,” after onetime Bremerton resident and Scientology founder L. Ron Hubbard.

“Mike Hale’s  Tunnel of Love,” in return for Mike Hale putting a Hale’s Ales in Tim Ryan’s new building next to the Admiral (no brewery, no deal, Mike!).

I’m just realizing that these are all after men, and this is completely sexist. Oh, wait, I got one.

“Bremelo Underground”

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All illustrations by Jessica Randklev

All illustrations by Jessica Randklev

Dear The Bremelogger: First things first. You’re an idiot. I applaud “Smart Enough” for pointing that out yesterday. I’m actually surprised it took someone this long to point that out.

Second: While it’s completely ridiculous to try to make hay out of what was probably just a temporary technical malfunction on the part of The Review, let’s face facts: you probably just misspelled Bremerton, which is why it was returning no articles. Lord knows the fundamentals of the alphabet are a challenge to you and the rest of the Bremelog contributors. But, let’s say you are right.

Let’s say that Bainbridge Island does refuse to acknowledge Bremerton’s existence. Why not? You’re not worth it? You people pay for Girl Scout cookies with fake money. You steal credit cards and order in for pizza. You forget which house is yours. I can’t help you, “dude.”

If you want people to start acknowledging your existence, start by wearing pants in public.

Winslow

All illustrations by Jessica Randklev.

Dear Winslow: I discovered an interesting thing the other day when I found myself on the Web site associated with the Bainbridge Island newspaper of record, The Bainbridge Review, a rag I’ve oft heard you describe as Port Madison’s New Yorker. As I maneuvered the site — and please, don’t ask me why I was there — I couldn’t help but notice that your newspaper, your public mouthpiece, your agenda-setting, game-changing, career-making operation REFUSES to acknowledge Bremerton’s existence. By extension, so does the entire Island. How did I discover this little-know fact you ask? Well it’s simple, really. I searched for the word “Bremerton” on The Review’s Web site.
reviewone
This is what I got back.
reviewno
Turns out that for however many years The Review’s been “The Only Newspaper In the World The Cares About Bainbridge Island” it’s also been “Just Another Newspaper That Doesn’t Give a Shit About Bremerton.”

Not that I care.

The Bremelogger

Postscript: It’s been brought to my attention that when you now search for “Bremerton” several articles are returned. Whatever. I’ve made my point.

Capitol Hill's Oddfellows Hall. Flickr photo by <a href=

Capitol Hill's Oddfellows Hall. Flickr photo by LookatLao.

There’s a story in Saturday’s New York Times about a Beacon, NY, a blue-collar city whose downtown was wiped out when industry (Nabisco, etc.) pulled out. But, they bounced back. And downtown’s low-rent, historic brick buildings became magnets for art galleries, boutiques, and restaurants. Sounds great, no? It sounds a lot like the downtown Bremerton of not so few dreams, eh? But, the parties over. Almost.

Beacon’s taken a beating in the recession. Fewer tourists are coming into town. Fewer locals are going out to eat. And town’s rebound is on the verge of deflating. Perhaps they hit at just the wrong time. And perhaps Bremerton will come of age right as the economy’s picking up. With Ron Sher on the line for a the Penny’s building, and empty condos on the waterfront, it’s not such a crazy idea. But, here’s what catches my eye about Jodi Rudoren’s NYT piece:

A couple of brave entrepreneurs, including Poppy’s, a grass-fed burger shack, and Isamu, which serves sushi and Chinese food, have even opened in recent weeks.

There are a couple of bright spots: At Homespun Foods, where everything on the menu is under $10, sales rose 12 percent in January (“People are still going out for that chocolate chip cookie,” said Jessica Reisman, the chef-owner.) and Artisan Wine Shop has sold 10 percent more bottles in 2009 than at this point last year (though the average bottle price is down 8 percent).

Enter The Patio (and, sort of, the rest of Manette).

(more…)

All illustrations by Jessica Randklev.

All illustrations by Jessica Randklev.

As our “paper” of record so eloquently put it, “Angel’s Homestyle Buffet has closed. The news Wednesday surprised one customer…” I however, was not surprised. Anyone who gave as much of their life to Angel’s as I knew this day was coming. And I’m going to miss the East Bremerton eatery. Because ….

Angel’s Homestyle Buffet was where I learned that refrigeration is a luxury.

Angel’s Homestyle Buffet was where I learned that mine is the only house not serving ice cream from a machine.

Angel’s Homestyle Buffet was where I learned that washing your hands is for IHOP

Angel’s Homestyle Buffet was where I lost my manners.

Angel’s Homestyle Buffet was the first place I tried custard.

Angel’s Homestyle Buffet was where I learned that weight watching is a spectator’s sport.

(more…)

Shepherd actually has I Like Mike buttons made, but I forgot to take a picture of one at breakfast. My bad.

Shepherd actually has I Like Mike buttons made, but I forgot to take a picture of one at breakfast. My bad.

The celebrity profile canon is rife with omelet anecdotes and edible metaphors from journalists grasping for the reveling and enduring in their hour with the rich and famous. But Mike Shepherd is not a celebrity. He’s a veteran of Bremerton City Council, a $12,000-a-year gig he’s held since 1997. And if gets his way in November, he’ll be our next mayor ($117,671). If he gets his way at breakfast, he’ll get an English muffin.

The latter proved to be no problem Sunday morning at West Bremerton’s Hi-Lo’s 15th Street Cafe. But before he takes the mayor’s office and its $100 view, Shepherd has to convince Bremerton voters that Cary Bozeman, the man who presided over the construction of a new convention center, fountain park, and waterfront condos doesn’t deserve another four years.
(more…)

All illustrations by Jessica Randklev

All illustrations by Jessica Randklev

What’s wrong with the Island’s youth? You’ve got a lot of nerve, Logger.

I should be asking you the same thing about your up-and-comers. But, I’ll get to that in a second.

Standing guard in front of Safeway has been an Island tradition for generations, er, at least the generations here only long enough to not remember a time before McDonald’s and the rape of the land at the hands of Southern California. Call these kids what you want–truants, delinquents, leeches–they’re all training for one thing: a move to Bremerton. I understand they’d fit in well there. I mean, it doesn’t take a high school education to break one’s leg evading the heat, does it? How much time in physics class must one put in to take off one’s pants in public? How many liquid lunches from a paper bag must one consume until a tunnel is a better idea than a brew pub?

I must ask you, Logger, what the hell is the deal with Bremerton kids and those masks? Twice now I’ve seen kids — I’m only assuming, as their faces have been obscured. But, would a grown man/woman really don a mask in public in March? Sorry, forgot whom I was addressing. — with rather frightening white masks with dark markings around Rob’s Quick Stop near the north end of Callow. How can you explain this behavior, “bro”?

OK, yes, you’ve probably deducted from the previous paragraph that I visit Bremerton on occasion. For a thick-skulled has-been of the forrest, you really do have a talent for observation. You see, during my time in the Navy I developed an affinity for McGavin’s Pink Champagne Cake, and consequently am forced to visit Callow, er “Little Fremont” on occasion. It’s not because I like the Moon Biscuits at the Hi-Lo or anything.

Winslow

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