Between the Lines -- Byron de Arakal
Recent days have found Costa Mesa swept up in a wind of fuss and
tumult over those rolling bread boxes we otherwise know as motor homes.
We’ll get to the particulars of the plot in a moment. But for now, you
should know that the rancor in town over the subject has me thinking of
physics. Hang with me on this one for a moment.
There’s this quirky theory I have that reckons that all societies are
reigned by the same physical laws that hold court over mass and motion.
The nub of my theorem is this. The more people you have pitching a tent
in a community or state or nation, the more rules and regulations and
laws you need to keep the whole thing from spinning apart into something
resembling Somalia or a nursery school at snack time.
Now there’s a downside to this that spooks me. Every new ordinance and
statute that’s visited upon us means we lose another freedom, however
small. Some cherished liberty. Eventually -- and this is not good news,
folks -- I’m thinking the weight of regulated behavior becomes so great
that the entire hamlet collapses in on itself like some cosmic black
hole. The implosion is so catastrophic -- in theory, anyway -- that not
even a Libertarian can escape it.
This dust-up over motor homes in Costa Mesa falls somewhere on this
theoretical continuum, I think. But if sane minds prevail, I’m not sure
it has to. Here’s what we have.
As the law currently occupies the books, it’s illegal in Costa Mesa to
dock a motor home of a certain size and dimension on a public street for
any time longer than 72 consecutive hours. But if we’re to believe the
majority on the City Council and a vague reference to “numerous
complaints from residents” in a city staff report, the law is more often
scoffed at than followed.
It seems some undetermined number of RV owners run around the
ordinance by moving their land schooner a few feet every so many days.
The thinking of the scofflaws is, apparently, that the good men and women
of the Costa Mesa Police Department can’t know whether the offending
motor home has been driven 2 feet or 200 miles. Just to be sure, says the
department’s Lt. Karl Schuler, the offending RV rats like to cover their
odometers with a magazine or some such thing.
In recent months, it’s become clear that a fair legion of Costa Mesa
residents harbor a shared conviction that dormant RVs are the scourge of
the city. Among other things, they prevent the city from sweeping lengthy
chunks of the streets. Fair enough. I mean, I’ve seen such a volume of
trash and other whatnot under one of these things that I’d swear the box
had been parked there since Sputnik.
Some gripe that street-parked motor homes are a safety hazard, that
their girth is so great it’s impossible to see around them. Well, OK. But
it seems to me, one can back out of a driveway more slowly than what I
usually witness.
The more subjective beef is that RVs are a contemptible eyesore. This
one’s often followed by a whispered prejudice that motor home owners are
more likely to raise chickens or make porn flicks in them than drive
them.
Having said all that, the physics of law has crept into this little
debate.
At its Jan. 7 gathering, the City Council noodled on a new ordinance
(more gravity) that would, essentially, ban motor homes from parking on
public streets for any length of time. The only exception is for a
24-hour period “for the purposes of loading, unloading, cleaning, battery
charging, or other activity preparatory or incidental to travel.” Don’t
you just love code speak?
As an aside, I’m not sure the law would be any more effective than the
one we’ve got. After all, the current crop of RV lawbreakers -- who are
spoiling the party for the vast majority of responsible coach owners in
town -- would find some way to be preparing for or cleaning up after a
perpetual trip to the Grand Canyon or French Lick, Ind.
Nevertheless, for guys such as Bill Folsom, who rents an apartment and
whose RV is his primary mode of getting to work and around town, the
proposed motor home clamp down would be akin to auto theft. And worse --
as I see it -- the loss of his freedom to choose his wheels. For others
who can’t afford the coin to store their fifth wheel elsewhere, it could
mean giving up the one and only form of affordable recreation.
And why? Because of some unquantifiable claim that “the parking of
recreation and oversized vehicles result in numerous complaints from
residents,” as the city claims? That’s a bad reason to hatch a new law
that will significantly affect the lifestyle and quality of life of
mostly law-abiding, responsible motor home owners.
So rather than heap even more restrictive rules on our already
over-regulated township, why not give the current ordinance a bigger bat.
My suggestion? Keep the 72-hour rule in place. Push a few additional
words together that require the RV be moved at least a mile every three
days, and make it just shy of a felony to cover an automobile’s odometer.
Then hit the scofflaws in the wallet to the tune of about $500 for the
first offense, and a grand for each additional one.
Do this, and I’m betting we’ll see fewer RV carcasses on our streets.
But even better, we’ll have postponed our dear little city’s implosion
into the black hole.
* Byron de Arakal is a writer and communications consultant. He
resides in Costa Mesa. Readers can reach him with news tips and comments
via e-mail at o7 byronwriter@msn.comf7 .
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