08/11/2017
For those of you out here following the recent outpouring of complaint and concern about the Purple Pig Festival and me, Joe Schenk, personally, I’d like to weigh in, share my thoughts, and apologize.
As many of you know, I’m not personally on Facebook, so when I visited the Naples Library yesterday, I was humbled to read the sustained conversation that unraveled here last week.
I know I’ve made mistakes and let people down. I know I’ve hurt people and fallen short on meeting all my commitments. I know I’ve put so much at risk: dear friendships, the community’s good will, the story of the festival itself. I understand that I’ve asked too much of people, fallen short on promises, and neglected obligations. I take responsibility for my failings.
As many of you are aware, I’ve dreamed about hosting a music festival for over 15 years. Buying the farm seven years ago was my first step in realizing this dream. I knew it involved a mountain of risk, it would take a ton of work and many hands to realize.
The Naples community is full of camaraderie, of generous dreamers and doers -- I thought, if I ask 50 of these beautiful people to overextend themselves for the benefit of thousands, we’ll make something lasting and magical for our community. So many of you rallied here to help with building stages and stone walkways, laying floors, hanging banners, managing parking lots and merch tents, making art and trails, embodying crazy characters and learning lines, hosting stages, loaning equipment, and on and on – volunteers and donations have been the backbone of the festival getting off the ground, and I CAN’T THANK YOU ALL ENOUGH for extending this generosity, year after year. To think that mistakes I’ve made have put all this at risk, pains me deeply. It’s tragic. For this, I’m so enormously sorry. These are MY mistakes. Don’t let them take away all the good that has occurred at the festival, all the friendships and memories made, all the dancing and revelry shared, all the kindness extended and invested in one another.
That said, accuracy seems important here. Misinformation and hate start to generate a life of their own, and risk unfairly tarnishing the better stories this festival has told for so many. Yes, I’ve personally made mistakes and bad decisions, and let’s face it—during the festival I’ve demonstrated my share of bad behavior—but I want you to know that I’ve gone into debt each year for the Pig. With only a handful of exceptions, the festival has paid its countless performers, paid for sound reinforcement, lights, insurance, porta-potties, security, driveway rock, generators, electricity, trash removal, and so much more.
My intent was to create an inclusive, joyful space for the community where music and art inspired us to generate good will for one another, a space that all of us could shape and share in the making of, a space to showcase our community’s talents, festive spirit, and good works. I know the Purple Pig has meant this and so much more to many of you, and I apologize that my failings have undermined any of it. I know it’s time to move on and put the Purple Pig Music Festival to bed. Here are the steps I’m taking to make amends:
1. I’ve been in contact with everyone I’m aware of who has a discrepancy with me and am working out ways to make good on my promises. Please contact me directly (my number hasn’t changed) if you feel we need to settle something up and you haven’t heard from me.
2. I apologize to all of you for allowing my failings to tarnish your good memories of these past five special years.
3. Lastly, I invite you out to the farm for the last time, to thank you each by name, to celebrate all that was good about the Purple Pig -- YOUR Purple Pig – The Purple Pig that was fueled by your inspiration, your creativity, your care for one another, your joy, your endless dancing, your music, your art, your friendships, your wild imagination, your revelry, your tall tales, your real magic – I hope you hear my heart in this message and you’ll join me in putting this big, crazy idea to rest in style. Come back to the Pig one last time if your heart has ever been inspired by this festival, if you hold dear a generous part of the bigger story, if you’ve ever made friends or magic or beauty here over these past five years—come if you never did but wished you had—come if you care to bid the Purple Pig a fond farewell.
