That’s what I called Washington Island last year, in a blog post about a weekend trip up here. I think I was trying for a sort of tongue-in-cheek, self-conscious hyperbole (Wisconsin? Paradise?), but obviously my writing skills weren’t up to snuff, because the phrase turned up, attributed to me with utmost sincerity, on the Death’s Door web site a month or two later and I confess I was, and am, embarrassed–though thankfully it seems to be gone now.

I’m bringing this up just to show that I’m far from immune to seductive generalizations and romantic hyperbole. So when I saw this Christian Science Monitor piece on the Washington Hotel–which describes the island as “a bucolic and historic fishing and agricultural community committed exclusively to the sustainable food movement”–I quickly cut my giggles with empathy for the writer.*

Not that there aren’t people up here committed to a sustainable vision. But they’re not exactly a formidable force–as a stroll through the culinary offerings “uptown” quickly evidences. In fact, I don’t think the island can be said to be exclusively committed to ANYTHING. Yesterday I picked up a copy of last year’s extensive and, I must say, fascinating** “Community Planning Survey” from the library, and if the comments are any indication of the level of consensus around here (which, um, they should be) the island is as fractious and fragmented as any community in the real world, big city or small town.

* Although, come on dude–Caplan is clearly making pasta in that photo, not pizza. 

** I know I am a big planning geek but, really, it was riveting reading. A page-turner. Still synthesizing it all.