Ah, election season in Ocean Shores — that sacred time when the air smells faintly of pumpkin spice, damp kelp, and unfiltered political outrage. The fog rolls in, the tides roll out, and our Facebook feeds light up brighter than the IGA freezer aisle at 2 a.m.

Yes, friends, it’s endorsement season, that joyous annual ritual where local leaders solemnly announce who they “stand with,” only to have half the town reply with torches, memes, and a paragraph that starts with “I’m not usually political, but…”

This week’s episode of As the Council Turns features the latest scandal: The Endorsement Wars — Battle of Position 7. One moment, someone innocently posts “I support Candidate A,” and within minutes, the Ocean Shores Chat explodes like a piñata full of pure chaos. Angry emojis rain down. Friendships of 40 years implode faster than a tent in a windstorm. Someone’s aunt swears she saw the candidate at a gas station once and “didn’t like their aura.”

We’ve got more drama than the Shilo front desk during a power outage.

Every election cycle, it’s the same script — a Hallmark movie rewritten by Quentin Tarantino after three espresso shots. The moment someone posts, “I endorse …” the digital town crier fires up the screenshots, the memes start multiplying like bunnies, and someone inevitably drags out a Facebook memory from 2016 that “proves” the endorser once supported something scandalous — like roundabouts, composting, or worse, electric scooters.

You’d think these endorsements were handwritten on the back of the Constitution with a Bald Eagle quill based on the way people react. “HOW COULD THEY?!” screams one side. “TRAITOR!” yells another. Meanwhile, the poor candidate is just trying to thank someone without accidentally starting World War III in the comments section.

And then comes the conspiracy arc — because in every Ocean Shores plot line, there must be one.

At one point, a candidate even believed they’d been hacked — possibly the victim of election interference or some sinister coastal cabal plotting to sway the race for Position 7. But in a shocking twist, the culprit wasn’t foreign espionage … it was Facebook being Facebook. The company itself admitted it had been disabling and glitching accounts again. So no, Karen, it wasn’t the deep state — it was just the world’s least reliable website tripping over its own algorithmic shoelaces.

And here’s the truth, dear voters: win or lose, it’s okay. There will always be more elections, more opportunities to make a difference, and more posts to argue about. Sometimes the real villain isn’t some shadowy figure — it’s just bad Wi-Fi, slow servers, and apps that crash when you need them most. Technology fails us all eventually, right around the time we hit “post.”

So before launching digital missiles, take a moment to breathe. Verify before vilify. Because once those social media rockets take off, there’s no calling them back — and around here, they’re usually powered by caffeine, speculation, and screenshots cropped just enough to miss the context.

Meanwhile, the undecided voters — the true Zen masters of Ocean Shores — are sipping pumpkin cold brews, muting group chats, and pretending not to exist until the comment storm passes. One guy told me he’s muted so many threads that he can only hear seagulls now. Says it’s “the most peace I’ve had since the tent debate.”

And through all this, we somehow forget the real issues. The potholes? Still there. Flooding? Still there. The Ocean Pours tent? Still standing strong — probably better than half the routers in town. But sure, let’s fight about who “liked” whose endorsement post first. Somewhere, Mark Zuckerberg is rubbing his hands together like a Bond villain, whispering, “Dance, my little coastal chaos gremlins, dance!”

I say we settle this the Ocean Shores way — with a clam dig showdown at dawn. Two candidates, one shovel, whoever finds the most razor clams wins the Endorsement Crown of Destiny. No hashtags. No screenshots. Just mud, pride, and maybe a confused seagull referee.

Until then, dear readers, take a deep breath. Remember, an endorsement isn’t a blood oath — it’s just someone saying, “Hey, this person seems decent enough to help without breaking anything important.”

We can still coexist, laugh, and wave politely (with all five fingers) when we pass each other in the IGA parking lot.

Because no matter who wins, we’ll all still be stuck in the same roundabout together — eternally circling democracy, one blinker at a time.

Until next time, keep your comments civil, your screenshots complete, your clams clean, and your drama contained to Ocean Shores Chat.