The art of asking forgiveness instead of permission

In my grandmother’s day, you’d get a stern talking-to for sneaking cookies before dinner. These days, in Riverhead, you can build an entire go-kart track without permits and get rewarded with a chance to retroactively legalize it. It’s like showing up to Christmas dinner with an unauthorized spouse and expecting your family to not only accept them but also pretend they were invited all along.

I watched this particular circus unfold from my metaphorical bleacher seat, as Island Water Park decided that building permits were more like friendly suggestions than actual requirements. They constructed a go-kart track here, sprinkled some pickleball courts there, and transformed a storage room into a party space – all with the casual confidence of a cat knocking items off a shelf while maintaining direct eye contact with its owner.

The town’s response was to file a lawsuit seeking $100,000 in penalties, which in the world of commercial development is about as threatening as my father’s attempts to ground me when I was already in college. Now they’re “negotiating a settlement,” which in local government-speak typically translates to “figuring out how to make this all go away while saving face.”

The Town Board meetings have become a masterclass in bureaucratic theater. You have Council Member Joann Waski channeling the voice of the people with the compelling argument that “we want to be able to bring our kids there” – as if the existence of children somehow negates the need for proper permits and safety inspections. I haven’t heard logic this circular since Trump’s last speech.

The most entertaining part is watching everyone pretend this isn’t following the same script we’ve seen before. The developer builds whatever they want, the town pretends to be shocked – shocked! – that anyone would dare circumvent their authority, and then everyone sits down to figure out how to make it all legal after the fact. It’s like watching a production where everyone knows the ending but we all agree to act surprised anyway.

Meanwhile, the Industrial Development Agency was waiting for a “complete” application — one that would reflect the “updated” conditions and new attractions at the site. The operator’s attorney described the application filed as “not quite ready for prime time” – a phrase that would be more appropriate for an amateur talent show than a multi-million dollar development that’s already operating.

But perhaps I’m being too cynical. After all, this is just another chapter in the great American tradition of asking forgiveness instead of permission – a tradition that, like my aunt’s holiday fruitcake, nobody particularly likes but we’ve all somehow agreed to accept as normal.

The public hearing has been delayed, but we all know how this story ends. The track will stay, the pickleball players will continue their merry volleys, and somewhere, a town employee is updating their résumé, wondering if it’s too late to switch to a career in circus management. At least there, the illusions are meant to be obvious.

Robert Gass lives in Calverton.