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A Day in the Life: Abandoned-By-The-Sea -- Part Four
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Posted by tomasi Tue Nov 30, 1999 00:00:00 PST
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I kept waiting for the owner of the Crab Shack to return and tell Alex and Diane that they had been duped, but he never came back out front. By the time we had finished eating lunch I had recovered from the shock that my wife had generously given away our summer. Being a teacher, June, July and August are sacred months. But, instead of getting worked up, I calmed myself with the rationalization that it was only Easter, so I had plenty of opportunities to get out of running that stinky theater. I wasn’t sure how, but I planned to give it my best effort.

After lunch we drove around looking at some of the homes on Peggy’s list. We decided to start in the country and make our way closer to the town. Being seasoned Californians we were shocked to see homes being sold for so little. We felt as if we’d discovered a best kept secret: a land with inexpensive homes. The only flaw I could see was the fact that most of the streets were gravel, and before I could say anything, Diane complained about the roads.

 The minute that Diane opened her mouth, Debbie quickly said, “I like gravel roads. Besides, I think it adds a country flavor, don’t you honey?”

The “honey” was me. I nodded, and flavor or not, I figured that it wouldn’t be bad, especially since we wanted to slow down. And, if you can’t drive at break neck pace on a gravel road, then life must be more relaxing. It made perfectly good sense to me. Besides, what’s the big deal about the surface of roads? I laughed. Yeah, it was country alright.

 After seeing the existing homes from the list we noticed one common denominator — mold and rot. It seemed that anything wooden that was more than a few years old didn’t last long without succumbing to the climate. There were a few inexpensive mobile homes situated on acres of forested land, but even though we wanted to get back to nature, living in the woods was a little too remote. Even though I wouldn’t admit it at the time, it was plain spooky, especially for this city dweller. Too many things lurk in the forest, and trees we had in abundance. Face it — living in such a tiny town was remote enough, so we kept looking closer to Bandon. Besides, Alex had made one too many comments about Bigfoot for me to be comfortable in the extreme boonies.

As we drove down the handful of streets, we kept coming back to the newly developed land which had originally been a city park. Peggy had written “Fog Belt” at the top of the sheet, but we never thought to question it. After all, fog is so romantic and reminiscent of cities like San Francisco. The lots adjoined both the elementary school and high school, and most of them had at least one coastal pine tree, and an abundance of blackberry bushes. Debbie, who loved blackberry jam, was so excited about the free fruit that her mind was made up. She wanted to purchase a lot on Eighth Court, a newly-graded gravel road, and build a new home, something we had always wanted to do. It seemed as though our good fortune was limitless.

 We stopped back at Peggy’s lair-like office and asked for further information on the lots. She repeated that the property was in the fog belt, and was the most reasonably priced land in town. Peggy handed us sample floor plans and cost sheets. We were stunned that we could build a new home for thirty thousand dollars. When we asked why Peggy why this land hadn’t already sold, she answered that the economy was slow. I guess her answer was at least partially true, but why question a dream come true? I had a job and Debbie was going to plan our new home. Once we felt we had all the answers, we left. Of course the big question of the day should have been, “What in the world is a fog belt?” But, no matter –– we were to discover on our own all too soon.

It was getting later in the day, and in a town with few street lights, it was pretty dismal. We drove by a couple of motels, looking for a place to spend the night, but found that there were no motels we would stay in. We chuckled that Bandon-By-The-Sea, with its quaint coastal character, was so perfect that having one flaw was nothing. We drove north to Coos Bay to find a decent motel. After deciding on a clean, moderately priced motel, we went looking for a Taco Bell. Finally, out of frustration, we pulled into a McDonald’s and asked the teenager at the drive-thru where we could find the nearest Taco Bell.

She frowned and shook her head, “Right, like we’re gonna have a Taco Bell … Why don’t you try Eugene?”

At 7 p.m. we weren’t about to drive two hours just for a taco, so we settled for Big Macs and fries. No Taco Bell ? How quaint. Why, Oregon was getting more charming by the minute!

E-mail Joe at: jtomasi@bak.rr.com

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