Thursday, August 30, 2007

Labor Day Weekend, the end of summer

At last we have reached the end of the summer vacation season! Do I seem happy? well consider this– my house is surrounded by summer rentals. We live at the beach, the place that every yahoo drags his unwashed spawn to frolic for the weekend, every weekend between the end of May and the beginning of September.

We have a constant turnover in this neighborhood. Last week there was a group that brought their jet-skis. When they weren't out on the water terrorizing surfers they were parked outside my window revving their 5000 decibel engines for 15 to 20 minutes at a time– for reasons known only to themselves.

The week before we had a group in the beachfront shack who's kids decided at 11:30 at night to try ghost riding down the street with three pre-pube's in the back seat. I had to rat them out for that one. those dumbass kids wern't setting an appropriate example of good driving behavior for the pee-wees. The life I save might be my own– some day.

I anticipate a big crowd this weekend. Temp's inland are expected to top 100 degrees in some places. Add that to the holiday weekend and you get every slob with a cooler and a car parking his ass on a towel until the sun goes down.

The population of our usually quiet little neighborhood increases by about 650% on some weekends. The parking is terrible and the noise is worse. Every idiot thinks he has to play his crappy music louder than the next guy. And of course somebody always brings fireworks to set off after midnight.

When they leave the entire beach looks like a frickin landfill. Broken beach umbrellas, cheap boogie boards and sand chairs, soiled disposable diapers, huge mounds of cardboard and styrofome packaging from Costco-purchased supplies. Lost shoes, towels, t shirts and toys, and enough bottles and cans to fill a recycling center.

Of course the beach has lots of trash cans, but once someone jams a hefty bag full of pick-nick castoffs into it, it is full. Does the next guy come along, assess the situation and say to himself, "I will need to find another can for my trash"? Crap no, he just dumps his crap on top and walks away! As does the next guy and the next.

Add to that the seagulls, and their love of garbage, soon this stuff is strewn across every square inch of sand. It is just gross to see some of the stuff people leave behind. Ususally there is so much broken glass that we can't walk the dogs without wide detours.

People are such effing pigs, I wish they'd all die in firey car crashes on the drive back home. Maybe that seems a bit severe, but understand this- it is usually January wind storms that sweep away the last of the Labor Day residue from our lovely beaches. So if you come to the beach and seem to be getting vibed by the locals, look around, pick up your trash, take it home with you if the cans are full. If not, you may see a crazed woman chasing you down with a broken umbrella– with the intent of ramming it where the sun doesn't shine- yet.

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