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www.oakvillebeaver.com · OAKVILLE BEAVER Thursday, January 7, 2010 · 6 The Oakville Beaver 467 Speers Rd., Oakville Ont. L6K 3S4 (905) 845-3824 Fax: 337-5571 Classified Advertising: 905-632-4440 Circulation: 845-9742 The Oakville Beaver is a member of the Ontario Press Council. The council is located at 80 Gould St., Suite 206, Toronto, Ont., M5B 2M7. Phone (416) 340-1981. Advertising is accepted on the condition that, in the event of a typographical error, that portion of advertising space occupied by the erroneous item, together with a reasonable allowance for signature, will not be charged for, but the balance of the advertisement will be paid for at the applicable rate.The publisher reserves the right to categorize advertisements or decline. Editorial and advertising content of the Oakville Beaver is protected by copyright. Unauthorized use is prohibited. Commentary Letter to the editor NEIL OLIVER Vice-President and Group Publisher, Metroland West DAVID HARVEY Regional General Manager JILL DAVIS Editor in Chief ROD JERRED Managing Editor DANIEL BAIRD Advertising Director RIZIERO VERTOLLI Photography Director SANDY PARE Business Manager MARK DILLS Director of Production MANUEL GARCIA Production Manager CHARLENE HALL Director of Distribution SARAH MCSWEENEY Circ. Manager WEBSITE oakvillebeaver.com Time to reinvent festival The Oakville Waterfront Festival has been suffering from difficulties for several years, not the least of which was the weather in 2008. Fundamental changes are needed if the festival is ever going to be a success in the future. Oakville needs look no further than Burlington to see how to run a fantastic waterfront festival. First, make it free. Then, do not erect a massive security fence that surrounds Coronation Park. Cut down on the number of pay duty police officers by 75 per cent. Eliminate full-time paid administrative positions. Lower the price vendors pay for space. Licence the entire park and eliminate the fence around the beer garden. Perhaps less money could be spent on the number of headline acts that are booked for the festival. The festival seems to be a very expensive and underwhelming event that most people are not willing or able to continue supporting. In speaking with vendors, the majority feel they are being charged far too much for space and are not motivated to return to the festival. Fewer vendors means less for people to see and do. Perhaps a more finite focus might be in order as the festival seems to be attempting being all things for everyone. The beer garden, children's rides, fireworks, displays, vendors, kiosks, musicians and other attractions seem to be overadministrated with a far too powerful police presence that is not at all necessary. Perhaps a new focus such as a waterfront barbecue and music festival? Invite barbecue vendors to compete for prizes and, of course, sales to the patrons. How about a chili cook off? Police vs fire department tug of war? Invite less expensive bands and lower the price for vendors. The fireworks are great, but at what cost? Should they be scaled down or eliminated? The "feel" of the Waterfront Festival, as it has been for many years now, has been fraught with such a degree of security it almost feels like an open house in a penitentiary. In Europe and the USA, outdoor festivals and tailgate parties have a far less structured atmosphere with a minimal police presence. If there are trouble makers, and there always are, call the police. The vast majority of festival patrons are decent, law-abiding people who want to enjoy themselves. Do we really need to fence off the beer garden and issue wristbands to everyone? Much of the trouble with a beer garden is that if you want to keep your table, you have to keep drinking. By corralling the beer garden, people are encouraged to overindulge. If you allow people to buy a beer and walk around with it (Etobicoke Centennial Park), you don't have that problem. The Oakville Waterfront Festival certainly needed to change. Let's start from zero and build it from there. Let's start planning for 2010 or 2011 with a new group of volunteers that can re-invent the festival. Perhaps a new location might be considered? Does it really have to be at the waterfront? STEVE EDGAR RECOGNIZED FOR EXCELLENCE BY: Ontario Community Newspapers Association Canadian Community Newspapers Association Suburban Newspapers of America THE OAKVILLE BEAVER IS PROUD OFFICIAL MEDIA SPONSOR FOR: United Way of Oakville TV AUCTION NIKKI WESLEY/OAKVILLE BEAVER THAT'S THE SPIRIT: Emma Genovese's senior Kindergarten class at St. James School -- with some help from their local neighbourhood -- donated 879 items of food to the Salvation Army. The food drive was done over a couple of weeks in December and was a larger version of one Genovese accomplished last year. The teacher hoped to imbue the spirit of the season in her students. If you're offered good karma on Queen Street, buy in bulk I once ran into a vagrant selling karma on Queen Street in Toronto. In a rush, I declined the tempting offer. Only recently did I realize that I really should have taken the time and invested. Good karma, after all, is a bargain at any price. Over the holidays, karma jumped up and bit me on the backside, more than once. Yeah, life goes in circles -- what goes around definitely comes around. Take the afternoon when I found myself convincingly playing the role of my mother. Back (a few hundred years ago) when I was a teenager, my girlfriend (who, alas, would one day become my wife) and I spent inordinate amounts of time holed up in my basement, not stealing furtive kisses, as one might imagine, but, rather, playing ping pong. Now, my mother, fully aware of the monkey business a hormonally-bananas boy and a girl could get up to when left alone in a basement, would stay upstairs and listen for the reassuring, steady, safe sound of the table tennis ball hitting the racquets. And whenever that sound ceased, she found a reason to call down the stairs. "Kids, ah, does the fireplace need another log?" "Mom, it's a fake fireplace." So, there I was over the holidays, upstairs in my own abode, my ears perked and on high alert as my daughter and her new boyfriend descended into the basement to engage in a hot and heavy session of ping pong. And whenever the sweet sounds of the game ceased, there I was at the top of the stairs, calling out: "Cookies. Anyone want cookies?" Andy Juniper Then there's our middle son, who is enjoying the college life, which over the holidays equated into lots of beer and lots of sleeping in after lots of beer. Late one afternoon, as he slowly eased himself back into the land of the living, I queried him about his lifestyle: exercise (or generous lack thereof), diet (are Oreos a food group unto themselves?), and consumption of beer. At which point he regaled me with stories my looselipped brother had told him about my lifestyle back when I was his age. Yikes. Apparently he'd been told tall tales of epic evenings of overindulgence followed by early mornings -- back then I was the sports editor of the local newspaper, which meant my days start- ed at around 5 a.m. -- kickstarted with honey-dipped doughnuts picked up en route to work, a couple of cigarettes and all washed down with a cold cola. Ah, breakfast of champions. "Lies," I told my son. "Lies. Don't believe anything my brother tells you about anything. He's a liar and a thief. Okay, he's not really a thief, but he's a big, old liar." And then, to further discredit my sibling as a witness to my youth, I reminded my son that after one particularly wild outing in my brother's ancient past, the Canadian Armed Forces were called in to rescue him. From a dingy. On a raging river. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, party on. There's an old saying: roosters (or chickens, or cows -- I'm a little fuzzy on farm analogies) all come home to roost. Likewise, karma. One day you're a kid copping kisses or gulping down hot, honey-dipped doughnuts, the next you're spying on your daughter and lecturing your son, like some sort of ineffectual Dr. Phil. Good karma on Queen Street? Next time, I'm buying in bulk. Andy Juniper can be visited at www.strangledeggs.com, contacted at ajjuniper@gmail.com, or followed at www.twitter.com/thesportjesters.