If we were in … the Twilight Zone

Do you kind of feel like you’re sometimes caught in the Twilight Zone? You know, you’re there, but you’re not quite there? Someone does something or says something, but they must not be living on the same planet as you are? Or (dramatic pause required here) they’re in the Twilight Zone?

There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity.

It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it ties between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge.

I was thinking about this Friday. The Port of Ridgefield board goes off to the Bonneville Hot Springs Resort & Spa.

That would be on the taxpayers’ dime. Plus, hey, they had to meet someplace!

When we asked Port Commissioner Joe Melroy about it, he said the joint wasn’t “lavish.”

Of course, the resort’s own Web site describes its “luxury.”

You see, Zone, “lavish” and “luxury” are two completely different things.

Then there’s my buddy, Vancouver City Council Member Tim Leavitt. He’s running for mayor. And he’s trying like heck to separate himself from Mayor Royce Pollard. They’ve been hanging their hat in the same place — the Vancouver City Council — for several years now, so they’re a lot like Cheech & Chong. Same ol’, same ol’.

Tim realizes he had to find a difference, so he picks the new I-5 bridge. Now, both of these guys appreciate the need for a new bridge. And both would accept tolls. But Royce says the tolls are inevitable. Tim says, “Not so fast, my friend.” Tim feels some magic could be worked and the bridge could be built without tolls.

In fact, he said he feels there’s a 75 percent chance of it.

Huh?

See, this is what you can do in the Twilight Zone. Make things happen that don’t quite make sense.

I quickly came up with a list of other things that could happen in the Twilight Zone:

The Washington State Cougars could win the football national championship.

Bagels and cream cheese could contain no calories.

Congress — after singing a few verses of “Kumbaya” — could agree to do something — anything — that would help us.

Another explanation? Maybe Tim misspoke. Maybe he meant to say the bridge could be built without “tools.” That’s the ticket.

This could be possible in the Twilight Zone, you see.

I kid Tim, of course. This is the way politics work. Candidates say stuff. More jobs, higher quality of life, clean industry. They run photos of themselves, looking like they’re really listening to people. Someone then gets elected, and it’s back to business as usual. Most all of them do it.

Look, if Tim wins the mayoral election — and he’s got a dang good shot — he’ll do fine. If he loses, he’ll still be sitting on the city council just a few feet away from the man he’s heavily criticized during this campaign. And I’m thinking all will be forgiven. I can see it now: Royce, wearing a New York customtailored William Fioravanti suit, sips tea with his pinky finger extended. Tim, with his “If everything is coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane” T-shirt, Kmart jeans and Payless shoes sits next to Royce and exchanges pleasantries. Tim thinks about winging the porcelain cup the mayor brought to the tea party. Instead he decides to harmonize with mayor. They sing “Kumbaya” together. Only in the Twilight Zone.