Where are the Occupy knuckleheads when you need them? As the potential danger escalates, I am bit confused about the reports as to why Horry County officials are struggling to rectify the green laser problem. With that said, I must confess that I am probably more familiar with how sausages are made than how laws/ordinances are passed.
I am fortunate to have a front row seat from my beach balcony to witness the daily evening display. It’s at the point now where many beach walkers are revolting when they take a direct hit. I saw a guy the other night stop in his tracks and yell up to the offender, “Why don’t you come down here and try that,” yada, yada, yada. I really can’t think of another product with a primary use to annoy people at the least, and cause potentially deadly harm at worst. The revolt has started.
For Phase I, I’m thinking a team of protesters could put together a flier and hand it out to patrons as they visit offending beach stores that advertise “We Have Green Lasers.” I wonder if parents would still allow the purchase of these weapons if they knew the United States Coast Guard was threatening to discontinue life saving services if the green laser bombardment continues. I’m sure everyone thinks their children will just make pretty designs on the beach with the harmless toy. From my personal experience however, I think it is almost impossible to expect a kid to avoid the temptation of blasting a moving target (a person walking) instead of boringly shining the pretty light on the sand. When a plane passes I question how long it takes to ponder the thought “I wonder if my laser can reach ‘em”? It’s kind of like setting out a batch of fresh baked chocolate cookies and saying “you can smell them, just don’t eat any.”
Phase II ramps up a level, so maybe we need some of those folks from Seattle who really know how to protest. How much fun would it be if about a dozen folks “peacefully confiscated” a laser or (somehow obtained one) and brought them into a beach store. As the clerk attempts to operate the cash register, blast ‘em in the eyes. You don’t like it? Call the manager so we can blast him too!
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We must take back our beach.
The writer lives in Garden City Beach.