One of the interesting things about covering the news in Key West is that the same stories
keep happening over and over. For, example, the City Commission now wants to enact a new ordinance
to control noise here— because the old one isn't working. Five years ago, we were reporting the same
story: The City Commission wanted to pass a new noise ordinance because the old one wasn't working. And
a few years before that, the same story was making headlines.
Wouldn't it be nice if they could just do it right the first time? The problem is that every time they get into this, it takes hours and hours of Commission time to hear all the complaints, appeals and recommendations. And, then, when a draft ordinance is finally hammered out, it is typically amended literally to death— to make it so complicated and convoluted that it can't possibly be enforced. And, frankly, we are just jaded enough to think that this might even be done on purpose.
Police Chief Buz Dillon made one of the most telling observations at the recent noise workshop: "Whoever designed the current ordinance apparently didn't want it enforced. It's too complicated."
And he's right. Here's what you have to go through if you want to complain about the noise from a nearby bar. First of all, you have to call the cops. Then, usually at 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning, you have to go outside and wait for the cops to come. You have to do this if you want to make a formal complaint. They may or may not come. And if they do come, they are required by the law to simply warn the bar before writing a citation.
If the warning doesn't work, you have to call the cops again and go outside and wait again. By this time it may be 3 in the morning. And they may or may not come. And if they do come, different cops may have different ideas about what is "loud." They may or may not take any action. Usually the problem solves itself when the bar finally closes for the night.
You may also recall that the Commissioners, in order to give their new law some "teeth," invented a new license. Any business that has amplified sound— even a radio or Musak— had to buy an annual "entertainment license." At the time, we pointed out the bizarre example of Duds & Suds, a small cafe adjacent to a laundromat. They played a radio for background music. By law, they had to have an entertainment license. You might think we're making this up, but we're not.
The idea behind the entertainment license was to give the City something to "pull" for repeat violators. But, as far as the Key West Police Dept. is concerned, there hasn't been any repeat violators. Few citations have ever been written. No entertainment licenses have ever been pulled. And, we suspect that few establishments even bother to renew these licenses any more.
During the recent flap over the Masked Headdress Ball being held at a venue next door to a residential compound on a week night, we checked to see if the Orleans House had an entertainment license. Licensing official Carolyn Walker looked it up and reported that the guesthouse had no entertainment license. "But how could that be?," we asked wide-eyed. "That is going to be the venue for one of the biggest, loudest parties of the season. Lots of amplified music. What are you going to do about that?," we asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't have cared less. But, of course, this is not to say that this law couldn't be selectively enforced in a heartbeat. It just depends on who's having the party.
So this is our point. Every few years, the City Commission goes through all these machinations to pass a new noise law. But at the end of the day, the officials responsible for enforcement have no intention of enforcing it. The cops don't care. Code Enforcement doesn't care. Licensing doesn't care. And, frankly, once the Commissioners are through posturing and emoting, they don't seem to care very much either— as long as the noise isn't in their neighborhood. Of course, one reason for this is that even they often have trouble getting enforcement officials to act. So, what's the point?
We do have one recommendation, however. The Commission has just appointed a Blue Ribbon panel of citizens to study the noise problem and make recommendations— just like they did five years ago. But guess who is not on that panel. Chief Dillon. He should be a member-at-large of that panel and attend every meeting so that, every step along the way, he can advise on what is enforceable and what's not. And, then, he could help sell the panel's recommendations to the Commission. And, then, he can't say that the Commissioners passed a law that's not enforceable. And his troops will, presumably, have to enforce it.