LETTER OF THE WEEK

* EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is an open letter to Costa Mesa Mayor Gary

Monahan.

Your Honor:

I’ve got a problem, Mr. Mayor. Well, maybe I’m not the only guy in this

village who has one. Let me back up a few days and run this by you:

It’s Monday morning around 10. I’ve gotten my boy off to school. The

dishes are done, the beds are made, the paper’s read, the coffee is on

and the wife’s at work.

The phone in my home/office rings; an important call.

“Hello? Yes, Mr. ---, I was expecting your call. ... Say what? You can’t

hear me? Can’t hear you either. Just a minute. I’ll close the window. ...

A little better? Not much, you say? Did you say why don’t I go to another

part of the house? I am in another part of the house! There are six

condos next door and the driveway’s the size of Delaware. It takes them

all morning to do it -- you know -- the leaf blower guy. ...

Whatdidyasay? You’ll try calling back later -- ya can’t hear anything?

But I ...” The phone went dead.

It’s Tuesday morning. Same drill. Boy to school, wife to work, etc.

Phone rings. Same guy. “Sorry, I couldn’t get back to you yesterday. Boy,

that noise was really something.”

“I know,” I replied.

“Say,” he said, “we really need to get together on your water deal. My

people really like the bottom line on this. What about noon at your

place?”

“Not a good idea,” I said. “That’s the time my guy comes -- you know --

the leaf blower guy.”

“Yeah, not a good idea is right! Well, how about this Wednesday morning

around 10 and we can really get this thing off the ground.”

“Uh, I hate to tell you this, but Wednesday is when they do it on the

other side -- you know -- the leaf blower guy.”

“Well, I’ll just have to get back to ya when I can,” he said. I hung up.

Mr. Mayor, I figure I’ve lost about 200 hours of prime time in the last

year alone. And no recourse!

The skull-shattering, tooth-numbing howl put out by these insidious

machines is an assault on my sensibilities and bank account, and I can no

longer put up with it.

Mr. Mayor, civilized communities across the land have had the good sense

to banish these instruments of torture. Gone. Outlawed. Los Angeles for

one. How about Costa Mesa?

There are other concerns. Dust for one. Exhaust fumes for another. These

potent little two-stroke engines put out more than the law allows.

And function? The leaf blower doesn’t remove anything. Only moves stuff

to another place, and in a cloud of dust!

How has this come to be? As I reckon, there’s only one way. The leaf

blower lobby, that’s how. There are dark and sinister forces at work

here. Mayor, I’m beyond steamed!

Now, then, Mr. Mayor, I have a dandy solution. Come a little closer, sit

down right over here. It goes something like this: LOOK AT ME, MAYOR! You

people lay a grant on me of, say, $250,000. I’ll change hats and get

right on the case. I’ll get in the leaf blower business! I’ll quiet these

suckers down if it takes a muffler the size of a phone booth.

And think about this: the fallout here, besides hero citations, is that

I’ll get rich and you’ll be the next governor.

Feel free to communicate with me at any time except Monday, Tuesday or

Wednesday. Come to think of it, Thursday isn’t so hot either, because

he’s across the street then -- you know -- the leaf blower guy!

IVAN SUMMERS

Costa Mesa