I read Mr. Doug Meier’s column of Friday, Sept. 5 with a growing
feeling of irritation. Granted, Mr. Meier’s column committed no
crimes against journalism.
I read Mr. Doug Meier’s column of Friday, Sept. 5 with a growing feeling of irritation. Granted, Mr. Meier’s column committed no crimes against journalism. He didn’t print his opinions on the front page, masquerading as news. He used adequate grammar and imaginative imagery.
But his opinions are flat, dead wrong, beginning with his opening line: “I spent my summer baking in Gilroy‚s moisture-sucking, bone-bleaching heat.” It wasn’t particularly hot this summer, Mr. Meier: maybe compared to Santa Cruz, but not for Gilroy. On very few days did I feel compelled to shut all the windows by 8:30 a.m., and leave them open all night to catch the sea breeze. We didn’t even have our standard September heat wave.
“One furiously hot afternoon I took a bike ride through the subdivisions in my neighborhood. There was a bit of a breeze, like from an open furnace, but no detectable human activity until I reached the hill at Mantelli, where a work crew resting in the shade stared at me like I was nuts.”
The workers may be correct. “Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the noonday sun,” according to the native Indians, and construction workers are equally wise.
“Does Gilroy exist in any way you can put your finger on?” Honestly, Mr. Meier, why were you looking for Gilroy in the northwest quad? If Aladdin’s genie picked up the northwest quad and moved it to Fremont or Pleasanton or Petaluma, not a resident would notice – until they got lost trying to commute to work. You are looking for Gilroy in all the wrong places.
“The answer is yes, it does exist, but only for one long weekend in July, when it hosts the world-renowned food event. The 2003 festival cleared at least $250,000 for charity, which sounds like a lot, but not if you consider the total hours put in. Let’s estimate that each volunteer contributed one week (40 hours). This means the festival brought in $63 per volunteer workweek, or about $1.50 per work hour. Wouldn’t it be a lot easier to raise the same money by soliciting $63 donations from 4,000 people in town?”
Au contraire, Mr. Meier, on several counts. Some volunteers only put in four hours. Many volunteers are youth, housewives, and seniors, who don’t have $63 to donate, but who can put in between four and 40 hours. And if you think collecting $63 from 4,000 citizens would be easier, I would love to watch you try.
“Gilroy is a place where once a year they host an enormous barbecue and the rest of the year everyone is too busy with their vehicles to be concerned with anything else, including a local election that will decide the makeup of the city council for the next four years.”
You are missing the essence of Gilroy. The Garlic Festival is not an aberration. The Garlic Festival is the visible manifestation of something that goes on in Gilroy all year long: community organizations, volunteerism.
All year long, the Gilroy Gators swim. During Festival, they pick up trash. All year, South Valley Community Church runs its youth groups. During Festival, the kids park cars. All year, the Elks meet; during Festival, they cook. All year, the Chamber of Commerce promotes small business in Gilroy; during Festival, they serve beer.
That’s not all: many organizations in Gilroy put in no official presence during the festival, but their members might volunteer with an organization that does. Orchard Valley Youth Soccer League has no official presence, but soccer moms galore volunteer at Festival.
If you want to find Gilroy, go to its organizations: churches, Las Madres, even its square dancing club. And don’t be misled by the lack of hysteria about the election. The city election is in November. We have all of October to talk about the council race.
The mayoral race is between Al Pinhiero, a thorough-going moderate, and Lupe Arrellano, who has now paid some fines for fundraising boo-boos. The two newcomers made the mistake that you are making; they think Gilroy is some Podunk town where they can waltz in and show us rubes how it’s done. We’ve seen their kind before.
