Big Daddy’s List of Beach Violations

FEEDING SEAGULLS: This just might be the No. 1 violation any human could possibly commit on the beach. It might even deserve life in prison. Not for a little kid who does it. Maybe that only justifies 10 to 20 years, with 5 off for good behavior.

But a grownup that does it or a parent who idly sits by while his little demon child Damien is hurling Cheez-Its up in the air? Force them to perform a Walk of Shame down 96th Street.

LAME UMBRELLA PEOPLE: This problem really exploded when the world went sunscreen mad. Sunscreen, sunscreen, sunscreen. How did the world ever survive this long without it? All day long I hear mothers screaming at their kids, “Do you have sunscreen on?!” I swear moms lather it on when they’re putting their children to bed.

Then it’s the “30 SPF.” “50 SPF.” “2000 SPF.” It never ends. Am I the only one who believes this whole “# SPF” thing is nothing but a marketing ploy to get you to buy more expensive sunscreen?

Then there’s the expiration date. Don’t forget to check that. What is sunscreen, milk? Look, all you need to know about sunscreen is this: Are you Italian or are you Irish? End of story.

When beachgoers figured they had the sunscreen process down, they then moved on to beach umbrellas. God forbid, if a sliver of sun would sneak through an umbrella and you didn’t have the proper sunscreen on. That’s instant death!

Beach umbrellas have existed long before any of us were born. But nothing like today. Everyone brings one down now, yet very few folks know how to plant them in the sand where they won’t lift right out of the sand with the slightest of breeze and pierce your eye socket. Geez, someone is going to die someday or get mistaken for a giant fruity cocktail. Enough!

BLACK SOCKS: This was a violation for as long as I can remember, but frankly I’m a little confused about it now. There was a time where if you walked through my Southwest Philly neighborhood wearing shorts and sneaks with black socks, the old head in my neighborhood would just pummel you.

But then the UNLV basketball program came along and wearing black socks with sneaks became cool and fashionable. To me, any man who wears black socks to the beach should be forced to sit through a Phillies doubleheader, but I’m not as sure as I used to be on whether this is a violation. But you sure as humidity in August are never going to catch me wearing them.

SURF FISHERMEN: I like watching dudes fish on the beach. I love it when they actually catch a decent-sized sand shark and a crowd will gather around them. It’s cool. Unless they are just small regular sharks and not sand sharks at all. What the heck would I know? I’m not Quint.

But it seems like recently there are more and more anglers who don’t know what they’re doing with where they are leaving their unattended lines, and you have to be really careful when you’re strolling down the beach. So get your act together.

CIGARS: Is it just me or do you swear that funky, horrible cigar-smoke smell is even more foul on the beach than it is in closed quarters? How can that be?

I swear there are many times when I’m having a perfectly nice, beautiful beach day when that skanky smell invades my nose. And when I try to figure out where it’s coming from, it’s from a half a block away and not the next beach chair over.

METAL-DETECTOR GUY: I’m not sure what to make of this dude anymore, either. (And for the record, it’s always a man. I’ve never seen a woman do this.) You know who I’m talking about. He’s been patrolling the beaches looking for buried treasure for decades now. What’s he make on a good day, $1.38? I know, supposedly the real goal is to discover some diamond that Elizabeth Taylor lost back in the 50s, but that’s like never happening.

They’ve gotten more sophisticated over the years. Many of them now wear this ridiculous headset with giant antennas sticking out of their ears. I can’t determine if they’re looking for coins or an alien from “Close Encounters of the Third Kind.”

I have a warped friend who brings Canadian coins and bobby pins to the beach, and when he sees one of these “explorers” heading our way, he scatters them in the sand and then sits back and watches the dude have a heart attack. Cruel, my buddy is. (But it is good for a laugh.)

But my mind is slowly turning on these scavenger hunters. I actually think I would miss them if they totally disappeared. They’re always good for a laugh. Maybe it’s even in my future. Keep an eye out.

“Hey, isn’t that? No, it can’t be. I swear that’s Big Daddy Graham.”

SHAKING SAND OUT OF YOUR BEACH BLANKET: At least I never have to worry about this one because I never bring a blanket or an extra-large beach towel to the beach. I’m a beach minimalist. A chair, a towel draped around my shoulder to dry off with when I come out of the ocean, and whatever will fit in my backpack. That’s it.

So, it’s particularly annoying when someone takes a blanket the size of Rhode Island and just lets loose with the shaking. The next thing you know, you look like you’ve starring in yet another remake of “The Mummy.” Please, it only takes a moment. Look before you shake. Thanks.

If I missed any, tweet your violations to me @bigdaddygraham.