The black dot in the middle of the reddish circle was so tiny you could barely see it, and unless you were a contortionist you couldn’t see the inelegant place where it was lodged either. Just like a tick, to bury itself in a warm spot that’s almost invisible to its unwitting human host —  in the ears, back of the knees, below the belt, in the belly button, top of the head.

    The circle had gotten larger and redder and itchier over three or four days until it seemed the better part of wisdom to have it looked at. Although the good people at the walk-in medical center weren’t even sure the dot was a tick, just to be on the safe side doxycycline was prescribed. Two a day for two weeks, eat yogurt, and stay out of the sun.

    There were a dozen people moping around the medical center, all but one with tick bites, and as many or more in line afterward at the pharmacy, almost everybody waiting for the same antibiotic. The pharmacist said he could hardly keep the stuff in stock. “Right there where you’re standing,” he said, they’d found a tick on the floor, “and we have no grass, as you can see.”

    Although Rocky Mountain spotted fever (transmitted by dog tick) had been around for longer, Lyme disease was first recognized on the Connecticut coast in 1975; eight years later, its cause was discovered, and since then almost every passing year has turned up some new depressing tick-related illness: babesiosis (black-legged tick), erlichiosis (Lone Star tick), and tularemia (dog and Lone Star both). Last year, scientists found a causal link between a bite from a Lone Star tick and a sudden allergy to meat, of all things  — beef, lamb, pork, even prosciutto — that presents as burning, itching hives and sometimes difficulty breathing a few hours after dinner. Cases have been concentrated mostly in the South, but, says the University of Virginia scientist who first made the connection, “allergy clusters have also cropped up in Pennsylvania and the East Hamptons in New York.”

    Unless you live on a houseboat, or maybe at the top of a lighthouse, you’d have to agree that we here in the “East Hamptons” are having the worst tick season in years, and it’s only just begun. Careful with that steak.

   Channeling the ghost of Martin Luther, East Hampton Town Supervisor Bill Wilkinson figuratively tacked 14 agenda items to the Town Hall door last week, in a grand gesture intended to draw attention to important decisions left hanging, and actions not taken, by a board that is increasingly deadlocked.

    But the list was more theater than anything. Let’s break it down.

    Several of the agenda items could fairly be called important, yes — but none is a Code Red emergency. Some, indeed, are already on the way to resolution. Others are much ado about nothing.

    Work on a number of the more complex among them is already ongoing (if slowly). Of these, the fate of the Springs-Fireplace Road sewage treatment plant and deer management are certainly priorities — but life in East Hampton won’t come grinding to a halt in the meanwhile. Others on the list are duplicative; for example, entertainment permits for bars and restaurants and outdoor gatherings, for which potential solutions can be found in the existing town code and in penal law (if only the will were there to enforce them).

    Mr. Wilkinson, himself, has drawn into the conversation the reorganization of the Natural Resources Department and other town functions. There has been no public call to rearrange these particular deck chairs. Likewise, only lukewarm interest has met his latest pet effort: to outsource the town’s Information Technology Department. It’s not clear who but him considers that one a do-or-die matter.

    Septic waste at the Three Mile Harbor trailer park has been a longstanding problem that may or may not be solved by throwing $600,000 at it as the supervisor would like to do, in lieu of a comprehensive study of what to do about waste townwide. The lighting code was never actually broken; in fact, it is a well-considered plan — that just became an annoyance for a handful of business owners who did not want to spend the money to comply after they had been given three years to do so. And the hold-up over a new audit committee could be ended in a jiffy, with the removal of a caustic Wilkinson ally from the list of potential members.

    This latest drama points to an interesting question about East Hampton Town government, which is: Does the town board meet too much?

    Though we jest — to a degree — we honestly have begun to wonder. Time and again, board meetings have devolved into acrimony among members, which has been met with mounting public disgust. A little less of this and a bit more letting the town’s competent and professional staffers just do their jobs might go a long way toward increasing efficiency.

    No doubt it is maddening sometimes for those leading it, but good government works at a deliberative pace. Puffed-up lists and put-on petulance while the cameras are rolling will not make the wheels turn faster, and they certainly won’t improve outcomes.

   A bill sponsored by State Senator Kenneth P. LaValle and Assemblyman Fred W. Thiele Jr. just might change the world. Okay, so the measure to give local governments and school districts the ability to issue their own tax breaks for “green” buildings and retrofits cannot by itself stem global warming or slow the rate of sea level rise, but it would encourage individuals do their part.

    The legislation was approved without a single no vote by both the Assembly and Senate, and with good reason. Starting next year, it would allow the state’s municipal boards to offer property tax exemptions for work that meets the standards set by the Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design organization. For the first three years, the bill would keep any increased assessment from being reflected on a property owner’s tax bill. For the highest-rated, or “platinum” LEED-certified projects, assessments would not jump until year seven.

    Implementation, of course, falls to local governments, as it does with so many of Albany’s bright ideas. Town, village, and school boards must adopt the program. Then, local assessors would review the construction and somehow remember  to add the increased assessments once the exemptions timed out. It is potentially a hassle, but well worth it.

    What is revolutionary about the legislation is that it empowers school districts, whose taxes make up the greatest share of most property tax bills, to promote green building — no more waiting around for town officials to find the motivation. At the same time, the cost in terms of lost taxes is negligible, as present assessments remain in place; only the added value of the new construction or retrofit would be exempted.

    The bill awaits Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo’s signature. It will then be up to local governments to take advantage of it. We hope they do so as soon as possible.

   East Hamptoners are beginning to express wishes that officials put a stop to huge, daytime booze-fueled gatherings at Indian Wells Beach in Amagansett. Doing so would be easy, as we explain at the conclusion of this editorial. The question is whether the town should bring the hammer down or let the party go on.

    Like any number of curious observers who had heard tell of the informal parties at Indian Wells, we took a walk to the right of the lifeguard stands Saturday to see the scene firsthand. It was, if anything, unfamiliar, unless you are among those who have witnessed the shenanigans during spring break along the Florida coast. Without exaggerating, there were hundreds of what appeared to be 20 and 30-somethings spread across the sand. Many had open cans of beer in their hands, mostly Bud Light, for some unknown reason.

    A volleyball game was under way. Four young men lined up their dozens of empty beer cans along the side of the competitive bean-bag-toss match they had going. Others played a game in which a guy on the beach tried to kick a soccer ball into the chests of a bunch of buddies standing waist deep in the surf. A dozen or two more, men and women alike, bobbed nearby, keeping their beers above water. Up on dry land, a number of smaller groups within the massive whole listened to nondescript pop tunes that drifted from battery-operated radios and the like. And, yes, among the hundreds of people was a young man in a bear costume. Every beach blast needs one, right?

    As odd as the party (if you can accurately call it that) was, it was all rather benign. No one appeared ready to fight, nor, despite all the alcohol consumption, did anyone look particularly drunk. Though empty cans of Bud were scattered around, we are told the revelers usually clean up after themselves.

    What was going on in the parking lot was perhaps more of a problem. An East Hampton Town police officer was rather forcefully explaining to a recalcitrant taxi-van driver that he had to keep moving and not clog the turn-around. Other vehicles, including more taxis from who knows where, circled the lot, their drivers looking for places to park. Over the din of a far-too-loud generator on one of the concessionaire’s trucks, a marine patrol officer could be heard talking over a cellphone about the crowd and what to do. An Amagansett resident told us that at times lines of beer-filled people clog the tiny restroom, leaving it inaccessible to those with young children who desperately need to go.

    Some members of the East Hampton Town Board have said they are reluctant to put a damper on the fun. You could hear that as a clear, if unstated, expression of desire to keep the cash flowing into town by whatever means, whether in sales of six-packs or illegal share-house rentals — despite the cost to the community in extra taxes for cleanups and patrols or in terms of residents’ enjoyment of the beaches.

    We were struck recently at something a young mother of our acquaintance said about it all. Indian Wells was her go-to beach, but she is no longer comfortable taking her children there. It just wasn’t relaxing anymore, she said. This is the bottom line for us: An East Hampton taxpayer and lifelong resident no longer cares to go to “her” beach. To stand by and allow this to happen is a profound failure of the town’s leadership.

    The solution is easy. The East Hampton Town Board and Trustees should move quickly to ban the consumption of alcohol at beaches where there are lifeguards from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. If people want to have an evening glass of wine or an all-night beer bash, fine. The town could even let those pretentious catered events with full bars continue. But daytime drinking and enormous frat-style parties should be no more. The town code already gives officials the latitude to post no-alcohol signs at the beaches. The time has come to do so — at least for daytime hours.

   Some Montauk business owners are undoubtedly pleased that when it comes to their interests East Hampton Town’s zoning rules need not apply. Such was the message two weeks ago when Town Supervisor Bill Wilkinson cut a ceremonial ribbon amid an atmosphere of bonhomie at the grand opening of the Montauk Beach House.

    The former Ronjo motel was at the center of controversy earlier this year when the town decided to sell a portion of a long-unused alley that bisected the property to its new owners. That fight died down when the Suffolk district attorney chimed in with a strong, but flawed, reading of the zoning code. This was enough, it appears, to give the Beach House cover to proceed with a number of additions to the property that should have first been run by the town planning board. In keeping with other instances of disregard for the law under the current and previous Town Hall administrations, the necessary review did not occur.

    The outlook for reasonable implementation of the town’s zoning laws is poor today; any town staffer who dared to suggest that tacking on a membership pool club, independent clothing boutique, nightclub, bar, kitchen, and an opening-night performance by a rock band for 200 guests might have to be examined by the planning board would have had good reason to fear for his or her job. All of the Beach House work, mind you, is on land not zoned for hotels or resorts, but for shops and the like.

    But this story is not about one hotel. Certain requirements of the town code are being routinely ignored on projects large and small, particularly when the properties are owned by those friendly with the supervisor and his political backers — and, most recently, when they are in Montauk. In a sweep some weeks ago, for example, code enforcers ticketed several businesses in the vicinity of Town Hall for illegally illuminated signs, but they have so far patently ignored similar ones in Montauk and elsewhere.

    Several popular nightspots in the easternmost hamlet have been allowed to spill out into huge, traffic-snarling outdoor gatherings. And on Friday, enforcers had to shut down a massive dance party on East Lake Drive for which the town board had issued a permit for 800 guests despite the promoters’ oft-repeated boast that 2,500 people had attended the same event last year. That property, Rick’s Crabby Cowboy on Lake Montauk, was at the center of an earlier dustup over dredging that drew a $75,000 fine from the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation for work that Supervisor Wilkinson had insisted was on the up-and-up.

    Montauk may be different from the rest of the Town of East Hampton, but the same laws apply. Perhaps the time has come to reconsider the hamlet’s incorporation as a village with its own set of rules and regulations and to let the ensuing battle between the forces of preservation and what some call progress begin.

   It is hurricane season again, so public officials and the utilities are beginning to make all the usual pronouncements about how well prepared they are in case a storm strikes. This evening at 6, the supervisors of East Hampton, Southampton, and Shelter Island are to appear at the Hampton Library in Bridgehampton with State Assemblyman Fred W. Thiele Jr. and Michael Hervey, the Long Island Power Authority’s chief operating officer, to hear about what the company is doing to get ready.

    Local governments on the South Fork and the power authority had a test run last August as Hurricane and Tropical Storm Irene crossed to the west. From that near-miss, many observers concluded that LIPA would have come up short in the event of a real disaster. Power outages lingered surprisingly long in some areas even though crews worked nearly around the clock to restore power to more than 500,000 customers across Long Island —- this from a weakened storm whose center did not pass over it.

    East Hampton Village Mayor Paul F. Rickenbach Jr. spoke for many last year when he gave LIPA a grade of C minus for its response, and, he said, that was “being gracious.” Mr. Thiele and State Senator Kenneth P. LaValle were also critical.

    Public pleas for the utility to put more of its electric lines underground and out of harm’s way go unanswered year after year because of cost. LIPA has conducted regular tree-trimming to keep lines from falling in storms, but it’s a good bet it has not done quite enough. Nor, from what we can tell, has a communication deficit from East Hampton Town Hall been addressed.

    Town Supervisor Bill Wilkinson, who is expected to attend this evening’s session, might take a moment to speak with his Southampton counterpart, Anna Throne-Holst, who is also on the guest list. Southampton outpaced East Hampton by far last year in getting updates out to residents and visitors as Irene approached. As we noted last year, Southampton issued advisories every couple of hours and did its best to keep the public informed through a variety of media outlets. The few messages from Mr. Wilkinson’s office were confusing and trivial at best. He might want to ask Ms. Throne-Holst how she did it.

    Also important was the Town of East Hampton’s failure to close off low-lying oceanfront road-ends. One neighborhood association on Napeague took it upon itself to sandbag a critical gap in the dunes when town help didn’t arrive. Downtown Montauk and the Ditch Plain neighborhood are essentially at sea level, so it wasn’t surprising that water poured in unimpeded through man-made openings.

    Predictions about hurricanes are by nature highly speculative. Scientists can estimate how many may arise in a given year, but cannot say even as late as a day or two before exactly where one will make landfall. Judging from the inadequate preparation and responses to 2011’s Irene, eastern Long Island’s elected leaders and its monopoly power company have a lot of work to do. This evening’s meeting will be meaningless without measurable changes to back up officials’ best intentions.

   With the hit-and-run death of a nun in Water Mill on Monday, the message is clear that South Fork roads are no place for pedestrians. Only two weeks ago, this community had to digest the news that a high school student was struck and killed as he and several friends made their way on foot from the Amagansett train station to his house. And, although her death did not involve a pedestrian, a Montauk resident was killed when her car apparently went into the path of an oncoming pickup truck on July 4.

    We cannot help but be saddened by each and every one of these deaths. Their frequency adds to the sense of needless loss. Sure, unfortunate things are going to happen when you put pedestrians together with vehicles on roads without shoulders or sidewalks. But that does not make these deaths or any of the more minor incidents acceptable.    Visitors need to remember that the South Fork, if you go by recent summer population estimates, is no bucolic paradise where you can walk wherever you please and drive as fast as you like. Drivers need to keep it slow and watch for surprises around every turn. And local officials must respond by providing sidewalks, and bicycle paths, where they can and regrading roadsides for better visibility where they cannot.

   There was nothing outwardly wrong with the scene on a recent Sunday morning at Lazy Point as a well-muscled young man gave paddleboard instruction to two clients. But looking a little closer you would have noticed that the Jeep he used to transport his boards was parked at the water’s edge without a town four-wheel-driving permit. And then, as you regarded the view or dug for clams, you could not help but hear his commanding voice carry on the still air. As you left the beach shortly before 11, you might have wondered as well where the town’s ticket-writers were and why they had not shown up to even politely ask the young man to move his vehicle off the sand to nearby and ample free parking.

    This summer, the for-profit use of beaches in the Town of East Hampton has begun to draw attention. Some residents are starting to get upset and have complained to authorities. The town trustees, who manage most of the shoreline, are against it; the town board, whose jurisdiction includes much of Montauk, is less firm. So far, approvals have been on an ad-hoc basis, and some people, like the young man giving paddleboard lessons at Lazy Point, do not bother to ask permission at all. Ordinary beachgoers are right to feel put out when a trailer-load of kayaks or paddleboards fills up their favorite beaches, particularly when many of the clients’ vehicles clogging parking areas are from out of town.

    It is not surprising that the beaches would become the site of friction during the summer high season — and that demands on government to do something about it would increase. Another Amagansett spot, Indian Wells Beach, has in the last year or two been plagued by large, beer-fueled gatherings of young people drinking in plain sight (some standing in the surf, no less, or playing a drinking game in which cans are thrown into the waves, retrieved, and chugged).

    Let the good times roll seems to be the message, whether intentional or not, of the glaring failure to enforce a sense of propriety where the beaches are concerned. We wish it were not so.

   Another week, another fatality on the South Fork roads. The death of Douglas Schneiderman, 51, of McLean, Va., in a head-on collision on Route 114 as he was headed to Sag Harbor on Sunday brought the total dead this summer in incidents in eastern Southampton Town and East Hampton to five. Make no mistake, five automobile-related deaths here is a significant number; in some years there have been none at all. And then there are the accidents in which people are injured, with some victims carrying physical or mental scars with them the rest of their lives. Mr. Schneiderman’s wife and daughter were seriously injured in the crash, as was the driver of the other vehicle, Brian K. Midgett, 20, of East Hampton.

    As notable as the statistics has been a common reaction among many people we have spoken to since news of Sunday’s crash began to spread. To a man and a woman, the sense has been that these deaths are not surprising, given the heightened craziness and risk on the roads this season. The South Fork seems out of control as too many people compete for too little space on the beaches, in shops and restaurants, and on the pavement.

    For many, the balance has been tipped too far in favor of the summer hordes. The result is a place that does not feel like home during what many consider the nicest part of the year. Elected officials have dismissed complaints about noisy, overcrowded nightclubs by telling neighbors in effect to grin and bear it because the disturbances would last for only a few months. Yet East Hampton Town is fast becoming something unfamiliar, something its residents did not sign up for. The feeling is widespread.

    Drawing a straight line from the summertime madness to Mr. Schneiderman’s death — and the others — is impossible. What must be understood and reflected on by those in a position to do something to stem the tide, however, is that many people strongly believe there is a connection.

   If ever one needed evidence of America’s profoundly contradictory attitude toward alcohol, one need look no further than the Town of East Hampton. By night, police conduct necessary sweeps to get drunken drivers off the roads. By day, it is a different story: Public drinking — to considerable excess — seems to be encouraged, at least tacitly.

    We were surprised and not a little disappointed to learn that the East Hampton Town Trustees, whose jurisdiction notably includes most of the town’s beaches, failed to even discuss the soggy, beer-fueled weekend gatherings at Indian Wells Beach in Amagansett at their last meeting, even though the Amagansett Citizens Advisory Committee had mulled the problem (and a report thereof had appeared on our front page).

    We have a view about the matter: Daytime alcohol use should be banned on town beaches while lifeguards are present. The trustees may have come to a different conclusion if they bothered to take up the issue, but nary a word passed the nine members’ lips. Part of their reluctance may be that in order to get a ban on the books, they would have to gain the town board’s cooperation. That is no excuse for pretending the growing problem at Indian Wells does not exist, however.

    East Hampton Village and the state parks prohibited alcohol on their beaches long ago. In the town, the public might prefer that drinking continue in some places or at some times, for example, after families have gone home.

    It is reasonable to expect that the Indian Wells gatherings will grow, and perhaps spread. With alcohol abuse there on weekend afternoons comes greater costs to residents’ enjoyment of the beach, as well as potential risks caused by drunken drivers or soused pedestrians. Town officials, both on Pantigo Road and in the trustees’ sea-view redoubt on Bluff Road, should take up the question sooner rather than later.