Firestone Takes the Offensive

November 25, 1997

"It's personal now." Yeah, extremely personal. In an interview that lasted over three quarters of an hour, Firestone owner Jon Marsa launched into a tirade against Orange County officials whose legislation to control the hours of those establishments serving alcohol - forcing them to close at 3 a.m. - has put a dampener on the late night scene just as Orlando was achieving national, if not international, recognition as having a culture that extends beyond that of the cheeseball Rat variety. He sees the move as being purely political from a Council elected by a small minority (some 20,000) of Orange County residents famous for their apathy at local council election time.

"It just seems more than coincidental that Downtown Disney opened up at the same time as the legislation came into effect," he said. Clearly, in a city that sees fit to license panhandlers because "tourists don't want to go on vacation to see the reality of life," a nightlife that thrives on people viewed as "freaks" by the mainstream, along with perceived negative publicity from a few heroin OD deaths, does not fit into the squeaky clean "hey, there's Mickey" view of a preternaturally pristine and Southern Baptist Conference friendly city.

Encouraging an active night club scene does not seem to be part of politicians' agenda here in Orange County - even though it must be stressed that the vote on the Council was a close one (by one vote). Mayor Hood effectively sealed the decision with her support of the move. After spending a quarter of a million dollars over two years on uniformed and plain-clothed security and incurring the wrath of many clubbers for their, at times, heavy-handed approach, Marsa's efforts to stay within and even go beyond the law and avoid the problems he foresaw were ultimately in vain. He likens the move to a witch hunt, aimed in an unconstitutionally discriminatory manner at his business and fueled by a sensationalist local mainstream media (he cites an example of visual material supporting a television news story about the overdose death of a teenager in a Kissimmee motel being intercut with footage of dancers at the Firestone).

With illegal drug use on a national level among college age kids running at about 25%, it would be naive and illogical to expect that there is no drug use by The Club's patrons. But even if the figures used by the Council of 22% usage (where did they get that number?) are correct, pointing to the Club as some sort of den of iniquity is patently absurd. And even then, as Marsa points out, only adults are allowed into the Club as legislation already exists to keep those under 18 off the late night streets of Orlando, so arguing that these laws somehow will help "cleanse" the streets for teens is ludicrous.

Fighting back - Marsa sees this only as a skirmish in a larger battle - The Club has opened up a mezzanine level bar area featuring avant-garde decor and a revamped and decorated interior. Clearly, a downturn has been experienced since the introduction of the legislation, but the struggle continues. But perhaps the most interesting of Marsa's strategies is to get young people - historically non-voters in local elections - to register and have their say at the next ballot box, ensuring that their voice is heard to get this absurd legislation repealed.

Peter Lewis
A true African-American, Peter has led a peripatetic lifestle, and after graduating from UCF with a film degree, he is pondering life as another wannabe, devoting his time to working on a novel, his thesis film, a suntan and the dubious benefits of Rogaine.