As most of you realize, I’m not only a total award-winning columnist but, I am a top sales person and a world renown reporter, as well. I’m certain that by now you have ascertained that, in addition to the above, I also possess a very active imagination and have a degree in sarcasm, to boot.

When I have my reporter helmet, (meetings can be dangerous), trench coat and cigar paraphernalia displayed on my frame, I cannot offer any kind of an opinion about whatever topic is being explored during said governmental gatherings. Just the facts ma’am are all that I may convey.

However, this column space is a free-for-all and, even though I don’t usually prattle on incessantly about elections, laws and the like, I am going to do so this week. Aren’t you tickled beyond recognition?

I bet you know, by now, that there is a spiraling, swirling controversy concerning the possibility of Conneaut Lake “City” moving from the stone ages—I mean, moving from a status of being dry, to that of being wet.

Yes, yes, I know that lakes are already wet and all of those corny comebacks you've conjured but, I speak of an antiquated law that forbids the sale of alcohol in the borough.

For some odd reason, the town has been dry since the dawning of time, and that could change if folks vote on a ballot measure tomorrow—maybe today, depending on when you might get the paper.

After hearing the pros and cons of the saga during many, many recent meetings, I can hold back no longer and must say that there is no reason, under the sun, moon or any other celestial body, that a resort town should be dry. It's just plain goofy, if you ask me and you didn't but, here I am anyway.

Mind you, the key words here are resort and town. Just think about this for a moment if you would... OK, that's enough of that.

I think that many tourists like to imbibe and would enjoy doing so in a really cute, and welcoming venue, right smack in the downtown area. I might be beaten over the head with a bottle of vodka for even saying this next line but I'm willing to make the ultimate sacrifice. I wouldn't even object to beer, wine or whatever, being allowed IN MODERATION on the beach—good gravy! Did I just type something about drinking on a beach? Hold me, I've gone mad.

Wouldn't it be dandy if a future sidewalk joint, of some sort, could offer wine from our OWN winery, just for one small example?

I used to go on horseback riding vacations annually with one Judith Hughes, aka Mama Bear, and some other local chicks. (I confess, I did this mainly to escape from my now ex husband but, I'm off track here once again.)

In addition to galloping wildly in the breeze, we always took in the offerings of whichever little hamlet happened to be nearby. These would have all been tourist towns, just like Conneaut Lake. At any rate, it seems to me that, in addition to the quaint boutiques and such, there was always an adorable touristy spot in which one might sip upon a beer or, in my case, back in those years, slam down a bottle of moonshine.

The days of wine and roses have long passed from my life as I no longer partake, and haven't for about six years. I do like roses though but, I digress again and again don't I?

I oft use the example of our old riding trip days when conversing with people about the law pertaining to in-town-whistle-wetting. I have a vision, based on some of the darling destinations from long ago, of what the town could be.

The biggest objection, or concern, that I've heard is that of the totally terrifying possibility of a “biker bar” squeezing into some Water Street locale.

First of all, if I were a biker, I might take umbrage, since the motorcycling crews that used to visit Mama Bear's, back in the day, were excellent tippers and were, for the most part, pleasant and well mannered.

I guess I can't imagine biker bar, (as they are lovingly labeled), owners fist-fighting for a spot in downtown C.L.

Come to think of it, I believe there are other bars/restaurants in the immediate region that gear toward the Harley lovers in our lives. So, I wouldn't think that a prospective developer would even want to compete with the facilities which currently cater to our chaps-clad cohorts. (“Chaps,” as in the leather chaps worn by bike enthusiasts, not chapped lips or anything like that. I was trying to fit in as many “c” words as possible in order to be cute and all. Did it work?)

OK, stepping back into the column at this time and winding it up, or down, here are my closing thoughts.

Allowing booze, wine and the like within the actual perimeters of the borough is not going to cause the planets to collide. Nor will it lead to a spike in regional alcoholism rates or cause gangs to break out in chorus line dances along the main drag. Actually, that gang thing sounds kind of entertaining and, of course, I'm digressing to the max so stop me right now.

I think some citizens have this image of drunken sailors, or men in leather, strewn here and there along the sidewalks of the town, with brown bags resting upon their lips. Something along those lines anyway.

Keep in mind that Linesville, for one example, is totally precious. The storefronts look wonderful, the streets are wide and...the town is as wet as, well, as something containing a lot of liquid.

Evidently, PA has some super strict laws pertaining to where one might locate an establishment of the drinking variety. (Hmm, how odd for PA to have harsh rules like this.)I'm not sure of the details but churches and schools have to be so many feet away and all that jazz. That should be a challenge, in itself, for any developer, since I think there is about one church per every half block. Not really, but close. So, why make it harder for the village to move forward into any kind of realistic future?

Conneaut Lake could absolutely draw in tourists galore and flourish to the max. However, it must step into the 90s, pronto.

In my overbearing, yet humble, at the same time, opinion, it's time for borough residents, with voting power, to put an end to the ancient “dry law,” as a step in the right direction.

OK, I'm done. I will now run for my life. Hope I'm here next week for another light, fluffy and noncontroversial piece. Oh well, another day, another pitchfork dodging session.

The End.