by Kerry Dougherty

OK, we locals don’t really loathe tourists. We actually hate some of them.

The ones who forget that when they park their cars on residential streets they’re in neighborhoods. Where people live. Where children play. And learn to ride their bikes.

We’re happy to share our beaches with visitors, but we’d like them better if they adopted the national parks motto: take nothing but photos, leave nothing but footprints.

I’ve lived near the oceanfront since 1984. I wish I could tell you that the dirty diaper I found on the street Sunday evening was the first left behind by a tourist. Or even the second. Truth is, I’ve lost track. At least this one was neatly secured, left behind by a thoughtful slob.

I’ve found beer bottles, condoms, broken beach chairs, and vomit on the streets near the ocean. I once found a Burger King bag in my front yard that seemed heavy. When I peeked inside I saw a man’s wallet in with the greasy remains of someone’s lunch. That leather wallet contained a $100 bill and identification. Continue reading.