In a sweeping gesture that has left linguists, ornithologists, and local government officials scratching their heads, residents of Jurmala are fervently seeking to establish 'Seagull' as the new official language. Emphasizing the intrinsic connection between the community and their beloved coastal avifauna, the proposal has taken flight amidst robust discussions in town halls and beachfront cafes.

The initiative, spearheaded by the newly formed coalition 'Beyond Baltic Beaks,' has already amassed over 5,000 signatures, mostly from residents and bemused tourists who have grown accustomed to sharing their fries and ice cream with the town's unofficial mascots. "We feel that seagulls best encapsulate the spirit of Jurmala," explained coalition leader, Māra Spāre, who claims the initiative is a step towards redefining cultural identity and challenging traditional linguistic norms.

"Imagine the simplicity and elegance of legislative speeches conveyed through a series of squawks and screeches," she continued, demonstrating with a particularly spirited rendition at the latest town hall meeting. "While some may argue this is unfounded, seagulls communicate effectively with zero misunderstandings — at least among themselves."

To prepare for the possible transition, local language schools have already started offering basic Seagull communication classes. Taught by a self-proclaimed "Seagull Whisperer," Artis Bērziņš, these sessions cover essential linguistic components like 'Alert: There's a Sole Fry Discarded on Mežaparks Beach' and 'Intruder Alert: Foreign Seagull Incursion.' The curriculum also includes squawk intonation and advanced wing-flap gesticulations.

"It's surprisingly easy to pick up," admitted Elza Leitis, a student in one of Jurmala's pioneering classes. "I always thought seagulls were just loud, but now I realize they have a rich vocabulary that's perfect for our community's needs. Plus, think of future generations — fluent in Seagull — commuting between ports with ease."

However, the path ahead is not without critics. Local linguist, Dr. Jānis Blūms, argues that transitioning to a non-human-based form of communication might deter foreign investors and tourists less inclined to conversational avian. "While I admire their passion," said Dr. Blūms, "Seagull isn't recognized on any international language proficiency tests. And not everyone can channel their inner Jonathan Livingston."

Despite the controversy, the coalition points out the many practical advantages. Beyond the obvious eco-friendly nature of the proposal — with signage needing only universal squawk symbols — there’s the clear reduction in translation services, given the unlikelihood of future political documents requiring language variants.

As the petition continues to gain momentum with the backing of seaside eateries and souvenir shops, some Jurmala residents are convinced that adopting Seagull will set their town apart as a pioneer in cross-species communication. "When has being first in languages ever hurt a place?" Bērziņš remarked diplomatically.

The proposal is set to be reviewed by the city council next month, where vital discussions on integrating municipal announcements with Seagull callings are anticipated. Whether this avian ambition will take wing in the halls of governance or simply join the cacophony of coastal folklore remains to be seen. One thing, however, is certain: the seagulls of Jurmala are ready, and quite literally, eager to be heard.