Today the topic of my discussion is entertainment, and in order to successfully convey the thoughts and experiences I am encountering, I need to at least enlighten the readers of two cases that occur.
First, we host Open Mic Nights in our Event Barn. These are monthly gatherings that have been successful thanks to the skills, equipment and generosity of some people willing to give their resources so that others can sing and play. The events are free, come as you are, bring your own, stay as long as you like, and the format has proven itself to be a good thing. We collect enough donations to cover most of the building’s maintenance costs.
Second, my friend Mark and his family started from scratch and created Little Sprouts Farms, an outfit that earns income by selling pork, goats (new this year) and hosting a Fall Festival on our farm. The Fall Festival is their big revenue generator for the year, and they spend a lot of time planning the gathering.
Through my direct involvement in Open Mic and my indirect exposure to Fall Festival planning, I get a chance to think a lot about entertainment. Specifically, I think about this question: How do you get people to come and have fun? Open Mic Night is free, for Pete’s sake, and yet the crowd isn’t exactly strong. In Sprouts’ case, they hope to cash in on every other Fall Festival at every other farm in the area. All things considered, this is a tough racket.
People don’t want to do more. Think about it: Most of the time, in your wildest fantasies, what you’re hoping for every day is a chance to do nothing and feel good about it. So it’s strange that when we start coming up with fundraising ideas, the first thing we think of is offering something that people, including ourselves, don’t really want. And then we advertise it like crazy: “Hey! HEY! Here’s a thing to do! Will it build community? Yes, that’s it! The community! And… beer! Yes, beer! You can build community and drink beer! Local stuff! Just please come!”
I’ve noticed everything from cat spay clinics to national cancer research fundraisers featuring this ad template. It is quite well worn. Do people get excited about something they see everywhere? Does the language grab one’s attention, or is it the easiest thing to say so it repeats itself like a text on a scratched disk?
Now, there’s nothing that would please me more than to draw a big crowd at Open Mic Night, so that when Nolan takes the stage with his piano and sings, there’s a roar of energy to back him up. I wish Andy would play a solo on his guitar and feel like a rock star because the whole yard is filled with people listening. I would feel fulfilled if Mark and his family made enough money from their Festival that they could achieve their dreams and invest more in their farm. But what the hell do I say that A) hasn’t already been said a million times before, and B) is going to inspire someone to do nothing and get out on the farm? Is all the fuss worth it even if people get burned?
I’ve read that if something is set well and works as normal, the exact opposite of that set feature will also be a viable option that can be taken. So I research and do my best to create a mental image of the current entertainment landscape that everyone is exposed to. Then I sit at night and try to imagine the opposite of “going out and building community, drinking beer and eating food made with only the best healthy, locally sourced ingredients.”
The opposite of pulling everyone into social media range is actually building, through regular proximity, personal relationships within an identifiable group of people that is, by necessity, relatively small. If beer is the ubiquitous appeal of all things fun, then remove it as a centerpiece. Drink water if you want. Or milk. And food trucks seem to have replaced Starbucks in quantity; everyone has a food truck planned. So I would say the opposite is to trust that people will eat however they see fit whenever they see fit and leave it at that.
I think there’s an attractive proposition to be teased: “A group of us get together once a month to hang out, listen to music, enjoy interesting conversations, and do whatever we feel like doing.” . Maybe you will join.”
The fun puns are so unimaginable that I shudder to partake. It is a terrible challenge to find something different to say or do because it is unheard of and therefore difficult for people to understand immediately. But I believe that a gathering of friends has a better chance of becoming an iconic phenomenon than a plea for entertainment, and a harvest festival is more closely associated with lovers of generosity (customers) than with quick thrill seekers. Maybe if we stop trying so hard to be fun and instead try hard to be real, we’ll all end up having fun anyway. Imagine.
