Feel(ing) good story

Among a huge heap of scattered papers, empty energy drink bottles and a random baseball on my desk, I came across a letter from one of our valued V.I. Daily News readers.

Usually, people just leave crazy, F-bomb-riddled voice mail messages on my office phone to let me know I'm doing such a wonderful job covering sports in the territory.

Well, this reader ignored the phone book and typed out a lovely letter for me. It was in response to an article I wrote about a high school football player who found success amid early struggles.

The people who call the shots at the paper liked it so much, they put it on the front page and it was one of those true journalistic moments when sports transcends into news.

Or they just had nothing else to go with that day.

Please don't laugh too hard at our website design and check out the story at this LINK.

The only reason I found the buried letter is because the lady who wrote it just dropped in to discuss the article further with me. She did not know him personally, but if you read the article, I think everyone on island knew of his antics.

We talked for a while and she pleaded that I write more stories like it because there are plenty of young people that are trying to turn their lives around.

"And if you keep writing about them, the kids will read about it and try to do the same with their lives," she said, while holding my hand and trying to hold back tears.

"Wait, let me get this straight, high school kids are actually reading the newspaper?" I asked to break the tension. I think she wanted a hug.

Apparently, they do. Which is why this newspaper somehow still turns a profit. And that's probably why we haven't updated our website layout since 1990. Hmm, interesting.

Running into appreciative readers is always a breath of fresh air.

Like I said before, it does not happen often. When it does, it's pretty awesome. Especially when it comes in the form of a random grandmother with soft hands and kind words.

Luxury and lunacy

I passed the Coach and Gucci high-end stores on my way to join a few friends on a luxury yacht docked in Yacht Haven Grande last night.

We sat together, sipped red wine and nibbled on delicious pasta. We were about to play a game of backgammon but settled on casual conversation about U.S. politics and why some residents on St. Thomas still haven't had clean water since early December.

Just before the expensive Italian ice cream was served for dessert, about four gun shots were heard in the distance.

I knew exactly where they came from but everyone else questioned whether they were even gun shots at all. We finished our ice cream and continued to chat while a slight breeze came in off the harbor.


Then five more gun shots sounded from the same direction.

Ahh, only on St. Thomas. I really can't make this shit up.

While I texted the news reporter in the office to let him know about the multiple shots fired in the Paul M. Pearson Gardens Public Housing Project, it just struck me how adverse some parts of the island are.

If you drive down the road closest to the dock where all the cruise ship yuppies flourish, one side of the road is the housing project and the other has gaudy merchandise stores and millionaire yacht owners. In the middle -- or concrete median in this case -- the USVI Government dropped serious coin and decided to plant 40-foot palm trees to disguise the obvious.

Last week, our paper published a story about how there were 48 homicides in the territory last year (which was a 3-year low).

In reaction, I overheard tourism puppets ask questions like, "How could they publish that story with six boats in port?" and "Oh, they're just trying to sell papers."

Some people just ignore the truth. It's pretty sad.

And the truth is that St. Thomas is very safe. I have, at no time since I've lived here, feared for my life or felt like I was in direct danger.

Yes, those 48 homicides ranked us No. 8 in the world (below El Salvador and Iraq) in deaths per 100,000 people. But how many of them were tourists? Very few, if any.

I'm not going to say that all the homicides were acceptable or explainable. Of course, they are not. But if you read the article written by my colleague, Danny Shea, that is linked right above, you will learn that a majority of the deaths are retaliatory.

Once again, there are no condolences here. Killing people is not right. But I hate when people think that St. Thomas is just a gang-affiliated, bullet hole-riddled crime scene.

It is so not. It is very beautiful and the people I have met are sincere.

But just like any place on this planet, there are some seedy neighborhoods. In those areas, people have guns. And sometimes, those people like to shoot them off.

No murders or confirmed shot victims were reported last night. So next time you hear gun shots in the middle of the night, do not fear the world is going to end. And please, cut the island some slack. After all, two cop cars reported to the scene about 20 minutes later -- not a bad response time on an island that is 11 miles long.

When I walked into the newsroom today, the reporter I texted the night before thanked me for the information.

"Anything come of it?" I asked.

"Nah, there were three other 'shots fired' reports on other parts of the island last night," he said. "But I went surfing this morning. There was a killer swell."

Killer surf, bro

I have two or three friends that ask me the same question every weekend:

"Good surf this weekend, why don't you come out?"

Maybe it's because I live on a tropical island or perhaps I just attract surfer types as friends. They are good people. Every one of them. But I'm more of a poser.

Instead, I like to go to rocky beaches, takes pictures of the crazy surf and show them the photos later on like, "Oh dude, you should have been there..."

Then they're like, "Oh dude, where is that? Crazy. That's like 4-5 feet..."

And then I'm like, "I know, bro. It was nasty."

Then the conversation starts to shift and I come off as a cool, surfer dude.

Nah, in all seriousness, I am definitely going to get out there soon. I have a feeling I would be good at surfing. So if any of you bros are reading, keep asking. One of these days I will surprise you.

The waves were killer on Friday at East Carrot Bay (above photo). I snapped the below photos at the tip of Peterborg. We had some first-time-to-the-island Brits with us (notice the white socks with colored stripes) and they were pretty impressed by our narly waves.

Got back in time for work so it was an epic morning. Peace out, dude.

Slumdog Millionaire

My last landlord screwed me pretty good and I don't normally lash out on the blog but I know he checks it quite frequently so this one is for you, jackass.

ATTENTION ST. THOMAS: Do not rent from this slum lord...

He has been ripping off the fine Rock City misfits for a generation and chuckles about it all the way to the bank. I won't go into details of how he screwed me ... wait a second, of course I will.

We have two lovely dogs. If you've ever met these fine dogs, you know they would never hurt a fly. Well one day, it appears one of the dogs ripped a small hole in a cushion on the couch.

It was very minor and was covered up with a simple flip of the cushion. Well, this dumbass saw the rip after we moved to a bigger house and decided to hit us where it hurts: our wallets.

That tiny little rip in the cushion was the only conflict with getting our security deposit back. Well, this dumbass brought in a upholsterer and he estimated the couch and felt the fabric would have to be replaced for the ENTIRE couch.

Over three months after we moved out, I finally got my security check back. He gave us back $80 of our $1,000 deposit. After I argued with him about how this whole fleecing went down, he told me to get a lawyer. What an asshole.

$920 to fix a small hole in a couch cushion?

I love the people of the Virgin Islands. There are, however, a few that make money purely on the people who visit and/or re-locate here and those bastards are scum. Get a real job, sir!

Ripping my girlfriend and I off is not worth your pompous lunch dates at Craig and Sally's or paying alimony to your second or third ex-wife. I lost count of how many you have, though that never stopped you from telling me about them.

And check out the teeth! You obviously haven't visited an orthodontist since '63.

This guy is just a retired old hack that goes around collecting rent from his properties and never flinches when its time to gauge a tenant. You are a waste of space. You contribute ZERO to your island or society.

All of this was going through my head when you came into my office last week to put another "for rent" ad in our newspaper. The fleecing cycle continues, huh? You are pathetic.