Because we all know teenagers never do unsavory acts behind their parent's backs or try to blame adults for their own sneaky misdeeds, Laguna Beach government officials are imposing a new anti-teen drinking ordinance designed to criminally punish parents accused of not stopping underaged drinking on their property.
In a scene stolen from Mao's communist China playbook, the city's Social Host Ordinance (SHO) also protects the intoxicated teenagers from accountability for drinking with an "immunity clause."
All the teens have to do to keep their own criminal records clean is call police and inform on their parents for not properly supervising them inline with government demands.
Laguna Beach Police Chief Paul Workman sees the nanny state rule, which expands his powers, as an excellent way to finally nab "very irresponsible" adults.
(Have you ever seen a cop turn down more authority?)
Rich Kane's Laguna Beach Patch has an excellent story outlining the debate over the ordinance and includes a fitting quote from Maurice Possley, a Pulitizer-winning journalist who lives in the city.
"It's an ill-conceived, vaguely worded and unnecessary law that will inevitably have unintended consequences for taxpayers, for parents, for our students and our village," said Possley. "I have seen no evidence at all that it's a problem that requires a solution. It's a solution without a problem . . . Our nation increasingly turns to law enforcement to solve our social problems. That is not a solution."
(You know, the city council could end all underage drinking in homes if police placed surveillance cameras inside all houses. No, wait. Then, the kids could empty Coke cans, pour alcohol inside and nobody would know. Rats. So . . . the council could station a cop in every home to make sure their fears aren't realized.)
Nevertheless, the measure passed 5-0 and, according to Kane, is scheduled for final city approval at a December council meeting.
R. Scott Moxley’s award-winning investigative journalism has touched nerves for two decades. An angry congressman threatened to break Moxley’s knee caps. A dirty sheriff promised his critical reporting was irrelevant and then landed in prison. Corporate crooks won’t take his calls. Murderous gangsters mad-dogged him in court. The U.S. House of Representatives debated his work. Pusillanimous cops have left hostile messages using fake names. Federal prosecutors credited his stories for the arrest of a doctor who sold fake medicine to dying patients. And a frantic state legislator literally caught sleeping with lobbyists sprinted down state capital hallways to evade his questions in Sacramento.