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PrintHopmonk: We don't want to hear the music
Editor, Index-Tribune:
Should collective intelligence of a committee be the final law?
From my experience with the Sonoma Planning Commission, a big NO is my answer.
Individually (one on one), I suspect the intelligence of planning commissioners is above average, maybe even genius. However, as a group, to me it is apparent they do not listen, or what they hear does not resonate, which makes them incompetent to make a final decision on any project.
The issue I speak of is Hopmonk's loud outdoor music, and the proposed licensing music issue now on the table that will replace the music permit.
First, the small group of neighbors, who have become villains or wicked people because they do not want to be forced to listen to the Hopmonk music three days a week, have been misquoted and misunderstood by the small group of the Planning Commission.
So let's get it right. We don't care how many hours or what time of day Hopmonk has outdoor music. We don't want it to encroach on our property, our lifestyle, etc. That is pretty simple.
However, the Planning Commission has collectively agreed that, according to commissioner Chip Roberson, we will never be happy. So that right there is a ridiculous statement. Since Hopmonk cannot control the nuisance level of the outdoor music, the only alternative is to not allow it.
Second, Mathew Tippell likes Hopmonk's music, and he states, "It is unimaginable to me how music is at a complaint level." Mr. Tippell, apparently you have never been annoyed by music, nor have you annoyed anyone with your music in your entire life, including your teenage years.
Third, the really scary part is that at some point in the future (due to the loopholes in the music license proposal), it is feasible for Hopmonk, and/or other music venues in the area, to have special events once or more a week, which could be the beginning of a Sonoma-style Barbary Coast.
So, my happy Sonoma residents, it seems very worthwhile for you to attend the Planning Commission meetings even if the issue on the agenda is not particularly encroaching on your area, because it will effect you in some way in the future.
Regina Baker
Sonoma
Please note: Your full name will be published with your comment.
Ms Baker,
Not being of an age to actually recall the Barbary Coast, I had to look it up. Wikipedia has this to say:
"The Barbary Coast ... neighborhood acquired its new name sometime around 1860 from the name of the coast of North Africa (Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, and Egypt) where Arab pirates attacked Mediterranean ships. The name Barbary is derived from the Berbers.
"The Barbary Coast is the haunt of the low and the vile of every kind. The petty thief, the house burglar, the tramp, the whoremonger, lewd women, cutthroats, murderers, all are found here. Dance-halls and concert-saloons, where blear-eyed men and faded women drink vile liquor, smoke offensive tobacco, engage in vulgar conduct, sing obscene songs and say and do everything to heap upon themselves more degradation, are numerous. Low gambling houses, thronged with riot-loving rowdies, in all stages of intoxication, are there. Opium dens, where heathen Chinese and God-forsaken men and women are sprawled in miscellaneous confusion, disgustingly drowsy or completely overcome, are there. Licentiousness, debauchery, pollution, loathsome disease, insanity from dissipation, misery, poverty, wealth, profanity, blasphemy, and death, are there. And Hell, yawning to receive the putrid mass, is there also."
Wow! Imagine all that coming about because of music once a week! I'm not sure whether I'm afraid of, or intrigued by the possibility that such evil-doings could even gain a foothold in times that outlaw tobacco and opium smoking, but I'm pretty sure that nothing in the above indicated that music was at the the root of the evil... And we probably have noise ordinances within the city limits, anyway, to quash that (sinful?) music. On a lighter nite, I went to the Hopmonk Saturday evening for the first time. No music and, in my opinion, the seating was comfortable, but not nearly comfortable enough to sprawl in miscellaneous confusion.
Donald Graves