Gurney's Inn
January 31, 2007

Low Tidings

Low Tidings

Now that those pesky dolphins have been taken care of, a lonely populace turns its attention to the beaver reportedly living in the Northwest Woods area of East Hampton.

The other newspapers have shown pictures of trees supposedly gnawed by the beaver, and of a dam supposedly built by the beaver. Why is this so amazing? Because according to some reports, beavers haven't been spotted on Long Island in over 200 years.

Town Supervisor Bill McGintee said he was "pleased" and noted the town also had an "abundance of turkeys," and there is little doubt about that — just take a look at the Town Board! The truth is, however, no one has actually seen the beaver, and many people think it's a hoax. Until now, that is. Leave it to The Independent to hunt down the reclusive rodent for an exclusive interview.

INDY: What is your name?

BEAVER: Wally!

INDY: Wally the Beaver, huh? People are wondering how you got to East Hampton.

WALLY: I drove my Land Rover from Manhattan.

INDY: Come on! Were you swept from Connecticut by a storm and carried here by the currents?

WALLY: Actually, it was the tsunami.

INDY: A tsunami?

WALLY: The tsunami. I got caught in a current and landed somewhere near New Orleans in the swamp.

INDY: What did you do there?

WALLY: I got into eating Cajun food and listened to some good music. Built a little lodge . . . I had it nice.

INDY: Then what happened?

WALLY: Katrina happened, man!

INDY: So you got stuck in the tsunami and Katrina?

WALLY: Yeah, but the day the Trade Center towers went down was the worst of all.

INDY: Let's get back to East Hampton.

WALLY: I built a place right on the water. Nice. Restaurants are a little pricey, though. Hey, how come everyone speaks Spanish around here? I thought I was in the Dominican Republic for a while there.

INDY: It must be lonely out here

alone . . .

WALLY: Naw, I've gotten out quite a bit. Met a possum — she's playing hard to get, though. Ran into a nice sea otter, but she's not my type. Next week I'm going out with a ground hog.

INDY: What do a beaver and a ground hog have in common?

WALLY: Nick and Toni's. We both like the grilled whole fish with rosemary, fennel, and the braised turnip soufflé with cabernet reduction and essence of white truffle oil.

INDY: Seen any turkeys?

WALLY: Yes, sir. East Hampton Town Natural Resources Director Larry Penny was here just the other day.

INDY: Show us around the place.

WALLY: Sure. This is my primary dam here; I built it so the water will back up right to the back deck of my lodge, which is right over there. I'm waiting for the satellite dish guy to get here. The deck faces west to take advantage of the sunset. I've named the pond Beaver Pond.

INDY: Actually, they call it Van Scoy Pond.

WALLY: No, that's the slave name. It's Beaver Pond now.

INDY: You named it after your own species? That's like humans calling things "People Ocean" and "People Lake." It's stupid.

WALLY: No, I named it after my brother.

INDY: You have a brother?

WALLY: Of course. The Beaver.

INDY: Your brother is named Beaver?

WALLY: The Beaver. Beaver Cleaver. You know who he is, right?

INDY: Oh, we get it now. And you're Wally Cleaver.

WALLY: Yes, sir.

INDY: There is something fishy about this whole thing.

WALLY: That's the smell of the dead dolphins. They were right up the road aways. Nice fellas. Dumber than dirt, though. I mean, talk about being up a creek without a paddle! Hello? Hello? Earth to Shamu — you don't belong in this creek, Mr. Spouty.

INDY: You sound angry, even bitter about those poor things.

WALLY: They were ruining the neighborhood. Go back to where you came from, fella. That's what I have to say about that situation. I couldn't understand a word they was saying.

INDY: Well, thanks for the interview, Wally. Might we see The Beaver anytime soon?

WALLY: Sure. He's going to be doing the polo thing with Woody Harrelson the second week in August, and I think his agent has him booked for a staged reading at Guild Hall.

INDY: Come on, he's not still working.

WALLY: Hey, someone has to pay for my Land Rover.

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