2014 edition: Some nagging Harvest Homecoming questions -- asked and never answered.

As a preface to Harvest Homecoming's 2014 invasion later this week, here are a few questions. They were first asked in 2012, and repeated last year.

Judging from today's Facebook discussion, we'll still be asking these questions in 2034. The chat was far too broad to summarize, so go read it at the point of origin.

Some of the themes are repeated here. Consider it to be an evolving worksheet. Harvest Homecoming as yet remains an entity fully capable of being reformed to bring it into line with current realities, but unless the discussion actually begins, there can be no solutions. The city's ducking and covering absolutely fits the WWII definition of chickenshit: Something so useless that it doesn't even approach the level of bullshit.

In the coming days, I'll be reprinting several past essays about Harvest Homecoming. As always, thanks for reading them. After all, it's about the ideas. It isn't about me, as hard as it is for some to grasp.

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For the Board of Public Works: Ostensibly, you are charged with managing the city’s properties, which customarily include our streets and sidewalks. The traditional Harvest Homecoming festival business model is utterly reliant on being granted permission to charge booths a fee for temporary street set-up space, which continues to have the consequence of blocking the entrances of businesses that operate year-round – and there are far more of these year-round businesses now than in the past, when the festival’s business model originally was developed. Harvest Homecoming’s grudging compromise solution in recent years has been to give existing businesses a first chance to purchase booth space for $300, and using the purchased space to function as de facto entry to their own front doors.

How does the Board of Public Works justify this practice of compelling year-round businesses to pay for entry into their own buildings? Is there a statutory precedent for this practice sufficient to dissuade legal action? Is this something the Board intends to address when it arises, and not before?

New for 2014: Last year I observed a Harvest Homecoming official telling a person that he could not pass out handbills on Pearl Street during booth days, and only those paying for booth space could do so -- from their booths, not on public property. Why does the city sanction this mockery of free speech? 

For Harvest Homecoming: Is there a credible and contemporary economic impact study, one conducted since revitalization commenced in earnest downtown, charting the festival’s oft-stated belief that its presence is a boon for the area in which it is held? Such an impact study must seek to document where the money spent during the festival actually goes, and if there is benefit or detriment to existing businesses, which are forced to alter their modes of operation to suit the needs of the festival or in some cases, shut down entirely.

If there is not such a study, how can such positive economic impact claims possibly be verified?

For the city’s elected officials: It should be obvious by now that the economic interests of our 365-days-a-year revitalizing downtown business district clash violently with the traditional Harvest Homecoming business model, which was devised during a time when downtown was in decline. This clash can only get worse without some form of intervention, especially with a wave of downtown residential properties about to come on line.

While it is clear that numerous people come to the city’s center each year during the festival’s run, it is far from clear whether their presence is a helpful thing for those existing businesses that have invested heavily in their own business models. Isn’t it the city’s job to help answer the questions I’m asking here? Isn’t it the city’s job to arbitrate and mediate the ongoing conflicts of interest? After all, each year the city approves the festival’s increasingly outdated business model. It needn’t proffer approval without active participation in discussions and exercised aimed at greater festival transparency and a more inclusive approach.

Can you say something? Anything? Just a few gurgling noises?

Those gurgling sounds -- they're chickenshit, aren't they?

In 2013, some Harvest Homecoming questions -- asked, but not answered.

As a preface to Harvest Homecoming's 2013 invasion, here are the follow-up questions we asked last year (October 16, 2012). At the time, we called it an evolving worksheet, noted that the event remains something capable of being reformed to bring it into line with current realities, and pointed out that unless the discussion actually begins, there can be no solution.  

A year has passed. Have any of these questions been answered? 

In the coming days, I'll be reprinting several essays about Harvest Homecoming. As always, thanks for reading. 

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For city government and the police department: Can there be clear and public clarification of the open container laws, or absence thereof? Those of us who did our level best to comply with ATC regulations governing alcoholic beverages being carried in and out of our licensed space continue to find it disconcerting that there is inconsistent open container enforcement, if any at all. If this state of affairs owes to ambiguities in state law, I’m happy to take the case to higher authorities. If it owes to local indifference, then we have accidents just waiting to happen during Harvest Homecoming.

For the Board of Public Works: You are charged with managing the city’s properties, which customarily include our streets and sidewalks. The traditional Harvest Homecoming festival business model is reliant on being granted permission to charge booths a fee for temporary street set-up space, which has had the consequence of blocking the entrances of businesses that operate year-round – and there are far more of these now than in the past, when the festival’s business model was developed. Harvest Homecoming’s grudging compromise solution in recent years has been to give existing businesses a first chance to purchase booth space for $300, and using the purchased space to function as de facto entry to their front doors. How does the Board of Public Works justify this practice of compelling year-round businesses to pay for entry into their own buildings? Is there a statutory precedent for this practice sufficient to dissuade legal action? Is this something the Board intends to address when it arises, and not before?

For Harvest Homecoming: Is there a credible economic impact study, one conducted since revitalization commenced in earnest downtown, charting the festival’s belief that its presence is a boon for the area in which it is held? Such an impact study must seek to document where the money spent during the festival actually goes, and if there is benefit or detriment to existing businesses, which are forced to alter their modes of operation to suit the needs of the festival. If there is not such a study, how can such positive economic impact claims possibly be verified?

For the city’s elected officials: It should be obvious by now that the economic interests of our 365-days-a-year revitalizing downtown business district clash with the traditional Harvest Homecoming business model, which was devised during a time when downtown was in decline. This clash can only get worse without some form of intervention. While it is clear that numerous people come to the city’s center each year during the festival’s run, it is far from clear whether their presence is a good thing for those existing businesses that have invested heavily in their own business models. Isn’t it the city’s job to help answer the questions I’m asking here? Isn’t it the city’s job to arbitrate and mediate the ongoing conflicts of interest? After all, each year the city approves the festival’s increasingly outdated business model. It needn’t proffer approval without active participation in discussions and exercised aimed at greater festival transparency and a more inclusive approach.

Some Harvest Homecoming questions.

We’ve probably asked these questions before, but while memories are fresh, let’s have another go at them. Consider this my evolving worksheet, and note that the concerns described yesterday have been relayed to the Floyd County Health Department for comment. Also, note that I continue to believe that the event can be reformed to bring it into line with current realities. But unless the discussion begins, there can be no solution.  

For city government and the police department: Can there be clear and public clarification of the open container laws, or absence thereof? Those of us who did our level best to comply with ATC regulations governing alcoholic beverages being carried in and out of our licensed space continue to find it disconcerting that there is inconsistent open container enforcement, if any at all. If this state of affairs owes to ambiguities in state law, I’m happy to take the case to higher authorities. If it owes to local indifference, then we have accidents just waiting to happen during Harvest Homecoming.

For the Board of Public Works: You are charged with managing the city’s properties, which customarily include our streets and sidewalks. The traditional Harvest Homecoming festival business model is reliant on being granted permission to charge booths a fee for temporary street set-up space, which has had the consequence of blocking the entrances of businesses that operate year-round – and there are far more of these now than in the past, when the festival’s business model was developed. Harvest Homecoming’s grudging compromise solution in recent years has been to give existing businesses a first chance to purchase booth space for $300, and using the purchased space to function as de facto entry to their front doors. How does the Board of Public Works justify this practice of compelling year-round businesses to pay for entry into their own buildings? Is there a statutory precedent for this practice sufficient to dissuade legal action? Is this something the Board intends to address when it arises, and not before?

For Harvest Homecoming: Is there a credible economic impact study, one conducted since downtown’s began revitalization, that charts the festival’s belief that its presence is a boon for the area in which it is held? Such an impact study must seek to document where the money spent during the festival actually goes, and if there is benefit or detriment to existing businesses, which are forced to alter their modes of operation to suit the needs of the festival. If there is not such a study, how can such positive economic impact claims possibly be verified?

For the city’s elected officials: It should be obvious by now that the economic interests of our 365-days-a-year revitalizing downtown business district clash with the traditional Harvest Homecoming business model, which was devised during a time when downtown was in decline. This clash can only get worse without some form of intervention. While it is clear that numerous people come to the city’s center each year during the festival’s run, it is far from clear whether their presence is a good thing for those existing businesses that have invested heavily in their own business models. Isn’t it the city’s job to help answer the questions I’m asking here? Isn’t it the city’s job to arbitrate and mediate the ongoing conflicts of interest? After all, each year the city approves the festival’s increasingly outdated business model. It needn’t proffer approval without active participation in discussions and exercised aimed at greater festival transparency and a more inclusive approach.

Policing and cultural differences.

This story in yesterday's New York Times documents "A Fatal Encounter in a Newark Park," and it is a somber, tragic tale with no obvious lesson to be learned.

But in this brief passage, there is a definition of "21st century" policing that applies to the New Albany city policemen with whom I've become acquainted during the past few years, and to me, that's a very good thing. It's also a definition worth remembering as we contemplate public safety in the changing cultural fabric of the city.

Gerard Tucci, Officer Esposito’s boss for about two years, described him as even-tempered, “a trouble-free employee.”

“I’m not telling you that he is a zombie, but you don’t want an officer too high all the time or too low all the time,” said Mr. Tucci, who retired as a captain in 2008. “The police officer of the 21st century is no longer the rough-and-tumble person of the 1900s, where you rough up a town and leave like a marshal in the Wild West. You are part of the community and part psychologist, part sociologist, part teacher and part interpreter, someone who has to be sensitive to the immense cultural differences encountered every day.”