Welcome to the first edition of the Oddball Update’s newest regular (ha, ha) feature, the Constipated Fogey of the Day! As you may know, I live in a retirement town in southern Florida that is filled with people who are very, very particular about…well, pretty much everything. Around here there are more rules that govern the behavior of your neighbors than there are rules governing local traffic, and when one of the local old fogeys gets especially constipated, this will invariably result in a case of verbal diarrhea which is spewed onto a page of looseleaf and foisted upon the rest of us in the Letters to the Editor section of our daily paper.

Since the Letters section has become filled with the stink of verbal diarrhea to a greater and greater extent in recent months, I’ve decided to formally commemorate this honored local practice with a regular feature on my site. This feature, conducted weekly (or whever I get around to it), will detail the letter that conveys the most anal-retentive, selfish, snobbish, power-mongering attitude from the past week. So let’s begin with a letter from Steve. Take it away, Stevie-boy!

The other night there were fireworks set off somewhere east of the Seawitch Fishmarket and Restaurant in south Vanderbilt Beach. This display went on for 30 to 45 minutes and according to the fire marshal there was no permit issued for it.

We thought there were people driving up Gulf Shore Drive throwing M-80s out the windows.

Unfortunately this seems to be driving the shore birds away from our beaches. When we were here in March there were a lot more shore birds. Now we can count the brown pelicans on one hand and we have seen only one or two white herons.

We have to walk north of La Playa before we see any of the small wading birds. We see less than half of the birds on the piers in Vanderbilt Bay. There are fewer songbirds too.

Like the people in the cities of Iraq, the birds are leaving when the fireworks start.

Is Vanderbilt Beach a theme park or residential neighborhood?

Are people so jaded that they need to set off fireworks in their back yard? Why not use mortars and RPGs to get rid of the rest of the pesky wildlife in Vanderbilt Bay?

If you want to help, please call 911 next time you hear fireworks. They will check with the North Naples fire marshal to see if there is a permit.

We also can call the county help line and tell them we don’t want Vanderbilt Beach to become a Disney World.

— Steve

All righty! Remember folks, the next time you’re lying in bed and hear some distant fireworks, call 911. Then get out your trusty RPG and hit the road for some vigilante-style action, and while you’re at it, don’t forget to pull down your pants and engage in some vapid political posturing that’s a complete non sequitur to the subject of your bitch. Because That’s The American Way!™

And don’t forget the important lesson that Steve has taught us today: When people set off fireworks in their own backyard, it means they’re jaded. Nevermind that I have NO EARTHLY FUCKING IDEA WHAT THAT HAS TO DO WITH ANYTHING. But the lesson here is undoubtedly that Steve would prefer that you set off your fireworks in his backyard instead, so make sure you do that. Steve doesn’t know how lucky he is that he doesn’t live in basically any other state of the country, in which he might very well move in next door to a guy who collects (and likes to fire) shotguns. Which, much to Steve’s chagrin, is actually legal! Shock!

And it’s a good thing Vanderbilt Beach isn’t another Disney World—after all, we all know that when Constipated Old Fogeys bear witness to friends and families actually talking, laughing and enjoying themselves as they do at Disney World, the Fogey in question immediately and spontaneously self-destructs from the extreme toxicity of that thing they apparently haven’t experienced themselves since the 1950s—fun. Speaking of which, why hasn’t fun been banned from Vanderbilt Beach? There oughta be a law!

That’s all for this week. Oh, and get a life, Steve.