Nuke the wails, ban the blare

The police think David Owen Rye is a vandal. The mayor of Simi Valley says he’s reckless. I say he’s a crusader with maybe some anger management issues.

Last month, the 48-year-old supermarket manager heard a car alarm blaring outside his Simi Valley apartment about 10 p.m. So he stepped outside with a 9-millimeter semiautomatic pistol, police say, and pumped at least three rounds into the offending Toyota Camry. The tragedy here is that Rye didn’t have a higher-caliber weapon, like maybe a rocket-propelled grenade launcher.

OK, not really. That kind of thing can cause collateral damage; plus, the explosion would probably just set off more car alarms. But is there anybody living in Southern California who hasn’t fantasized, at least once, about doing this?

Somewhere far below, the devil has prepared a nice, comfy feather bed connected to EKG wires that can detect the exact moment someone lying in it has entered REM sleep. Then all the blaring horns ever produced in hell and Detroit will sound their awful chorus. This bed is being held in reserve for the inventor of the car alarm.

Car alarms can go off for any number of reasons, but there are a few constants. They only go off when the car’s owner is too far away to hear. They always go off past your bedtime on a weeknight. And they never go off when someone is actually trying to break into a car -- or if they do, no one notices because of the six other car alarms going off nearby at the same time.

Carmakers appear determined to make things worse. Many new models come with a fancy electronic key fob that includes a “panic button” to set the alarm off. The button has been carefully designed by automotive engineers to go off only in the event of an emergency -- or when you make any slight movement with the keys in your pocket.

Apparently, the idea here is this: If you’re mugged within 25 feet of your car, just push the button and the mugger, like a Kalahari bushman never before exposed to modern technology, will be so startled by the sudden sound and light show that he will drop your wallet and flee. A real mugger would probably just shoot you -- and nobody would hear it over the din of your car alarm.

New York City last year banned both the sale and installation of car alarms that are motion-activated, and those that blare for more than three minutes. The only problem with this law is that it doesn’t apply to factory-installed alarms, and the fine only goes up to $1,000 for a first offense. The L.A. version should make offenders spend a little time in a cell with David Owen Rye.