When Isaac Newton introduced the universal law of gravitation, he wasn’t just explaining why apples fall from trees. He was proposing that the same physical laws are at work everywhere in the universe. I don’t think Newton ever visited the Vineyard, even in August, but his big idea does apply to the island. Unfortunately, I’m not so sure this is obvious to everyone who lives or vacations here.

A few summers ago, for instance, I was cruising at my customary pace below the speed limit, when I noticed a Jeep heading in the opposite direction. The driver and front-row passenger were singing. Their sunglasses were large. Three others stood in the backseat, holding onto the roll bars, belting out the tune along with the pair up front. I’m sure the music was great. Although I couldn’t hear the soundtrack to their adventure, the visual scene suggested mid-career Miley Cyrus, maybe “Party in the USA.” The whole ride looked undeniably fun, but their disregard for physics was alarming. A sudden stop, swerve, or aggressive deceleration would have been terrible. Inertia does apply during karaoke. The backup dancers would’ve been airborne.

Last week another variation of this scene occurred, only this time it was a twelve-year-old standing up through the sunroof of a Mercedes, dancing and waving. I totally understand the frame of mind. There’s a certain unreality to the Vineyard. You do things you wouldn’t normally do elsewhere. Biking without a helmet, for example. As far as I know, large straw sun hats do not provide adequate protection against head injuries, no matter how perfectly they match the rest of your outfit.

Even homeownership can be dangerous with the magical Vineyard mindset. My tactfully dented pickup truck and predilection for Blundstones have on occasion convinced me that I’m capable of feats of construction and tree work, for instance. Last summer I climbed a ladder to chainsaw a large limb and thought, as the oversized branch swung down in my direction, “So that’s why you hire professionals.” What exactly did I expect would happen? Maybe the limb would just drift away after I’d cut it free, soar down State Road, weigh itself at the stump dump, debit my account, then lift off and nestle down into one of those mountainous compost heaps.

There’s a latent disregard for standard rules here, too, and not just the laws of nature. On another afternoon, as I waited at the base of Old County Road, hoping to sneak into 7A before closing, a small sedan cruised past with music blaring and young women drinking rose from the bottle in the backseat. Later, I asked a friend who doubles as a policeman if this was legal on the island. He assured me it was not. Even if the sun is shining? Nope. Still wrong. What if it’s really, really good rose? Like, from France? I pressed.

His reluctance to even reply suggested the laws of the road here are as firm and consistent as Newton’s rules for the cosmos. If you’re contemplating a visit, though, please don’t be discouraged. The island is still a fantastic spot to stay for a day or a lifetime, even with gravity and other laws.

Greg Mone lives in West Tisbury.