Nadirs vs. rock bottoms

When I mentioned "the nadir of the tourist season" Thursday, I meant it in terms of numbers, not thinking about the tens of thousands of bikers on their way down for the "Poker Run" weekend.

Had I considered those rude, crude, low-rent jerks -- their noise pollution proudly roaring, belching, farting, revving, backfiring through exhaust pipes smirkingly bereft of mufflers -- I would have allowed room for a different kind of depths. To give you some perspective: A dozen or so jets pass low over the apartment every day on approach to the airport. None is as loud as the loudest of these hogs. And the jets don't land at 3 and 4 in the morning.

A few years back some genius on the Tourist Development Commission decided to lure these people to town during low season, to give the economy a boost. These aren't tourists who need to be lured, or developed. And T-shirt and beer sales do not constitute an economic boost. Their festival high points are a beer bust, a tattoo contest and a bikini contest.

The city does ask them to behave as considerate guests. Sure. Dozens are being ticketed -- 80 cops on the street are allegedly doing their best to enforce the city's noise ordinances. Hundreds more need to be.

Sure, "One Human Family" is the city motto. Families have rules.