Happy July 4th! Don’t be a fireworks jerk

Independence Day is around the corner. So, some of the country’s most patriotic traditions will turn your usual peaceful community into a war zone for backyard barbecues, neighborhood parades, and for one man in many neighborhoods.

When I was growing up, July 4th meant putting streamers on bikes and big wheels. Recently, some people believe this means attempting to replicate the British artillery fire that influenced Francis Scott Key during the war of 1812.

Nothing screams patriotism like using bamboo bangers and lightning to panic your neighbor’s dog and keep your baby from sleeping.

Well, much of Orange County has enough. Last week, the county commissioner passed a new law that would make it easier for residents to report scofflaws on fireworks that could face fines.

We will detail the new law and how it somehow arose from the neighbourhood brouhaha, including decorative genitals. But first, let’s talk about when most people think it’s appropriate to leave fireworks in residential areas.

There doesn’t seem to be an answer. That was the overwhelming response I got when I went to social media and asked readers when I thought it was okay to explode my M-80 with a cul de Sac.

Responses generally ranged from “never” to “never, never,” to “never, never, ever.”

A few people thought that people who dislike loud noises just smoked it. But they were a clear minority. But there was a bit of blessing for those who wanted to trigger bottle rockets in more sparsely populated rural communities.

Some people just hate noise. However, a considerable number pointed out that the explosion terrorizes animals to the point of pain. “My dog ​​and I have been hiding in the hallways the whole time,” one reader said.

Next, there are concerns about PTSD. I’ve been used to these concerns for a long time, but after witnessing the direct influence about ten years ago, my perspective has changed forever.

My wife and I were in a fundraiser for the Kamaladily Foundation, a great local charity supporting soldiers struggling with postwar effectiveness. We spent a few minutes talking to veterans we knew. It’s a man rock known for helping other veterinarians during times of crisis.

At an event held at Disney World that year, everything was fine until 9pm when the fireworks in the park began to go out. The brave veteran began to tremble and then sob, clearly unable to control his response, apparently he couldn’t do so.

I then decided that as the man who had caused his share of fireworks in the past, no one had the right to do it. It’s not particularly a few minutes’ worth of entertainment.

That said, state law says it is legal to cause fireworks without permission on three days a year, July 4th, December 31st and January 1st.

Previously it was only one day. But then in 2020, Florida lawmakers determined that “freedom” = explosives and that they had a godly right to blow away the moon travelers that residents have blown three times a year.

Some people have challenged the risks of noise pollution, actual pollution, property damage and wildfires. But considering Florida is a state where the environmental sector is currently fighting for the right to kill more manatees, we can imagine how much Tallahassee politicians care about their environmental impact.

So, for three days, Floridians legally lit the sky. But there are always people who push explosive envelopes. It leads us to the Waterfront Estate in Orange County.

In this community around Little Lake Conway, residents say they have spent the majority of the past year where they liked both explosives and plastic neon penis, terrified by one particular neighbor. (That was a sentence I didn’t expect to type.)

Neighbor Jill Chargaa especially didn’t like the multicolored members that her neighbors used to adorn their property, but “they didn’t really bother me much.

The same could not be said about the explosion – usually mortars, and some projectiles too – shattered the peace of this quiet community, like a 95-year-old mother who spends most of her time at home.

The explosions were apparently not legal, sometimes multiple times a day for several weeks in a row. But Shargaa said he was told that whenever his neighbor was called the Code Enforcement or the Sheriff’s Office, he could not do anything unless county officials witness the explosion.

It doesn’t seem to be good enough. “Maybe they won’t be able to see it, but we can hear it,” Shargaa said. “And there are more of us than he is. That’s just not right.”

So the neighbors stepped into the county boardroom and shared their stories and frustration. Shargaa even created a calendar showing how often neighbors’ explosives have rocked the suburban world.

The commissioner was sympathetic and voted unanimously to make it easier for residents to report violations without demanding law enforcement to witness it personally. Penalties are civil violations that start at $200 and escalate for offenders who refuse to comply after receiving a warning.

That makes sense to me. But really, if people just practice some general courtesy, the law needs to be less.

I understand the primitive and instinctive desire to blow things up. Incidentally, I spoiled it. Former sheriff Mayor Jerry Demings said in the way of his trademark Deadpan Mins.

But we can all stick to legally blowing things up. Ideally, in a place where there is room to breathe and there is a little more interest in people who suffer from the wounds of animals, the environment, and psychological service. Still, leave it to the experts.

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