I enjoy observing just how drastically having some skin in the game alters one's outlook on an issue, in some cases to the point of hypocrisy. Cary is providing us with a prime example.
Back in 1998, Cary's Town Council passed a resolution opposing a proposed FedEx cargo hub at Raleigh-Durham International Airport, in large part because of late-night aircraft noise. By the time an airliner or modern cargo jet flies over Cary neighborhoods, the noise level on the ground is roughly 60 decibels, tops. That's about the level of a normal, two-person conversation.
In 1998, that was still too darn loud for Cary's precious quality of life.
Fast forward to last week. The Town Council voted 5-2 to raise the allowable sound limit at the Koka Booth Amphitheatre to 95 decibels. If a Cary resident stood at a reasonable distance from RDU's runways, I doubt he or she would hear a takeoff as loud as the sound a rock concert can now blast from the Koka Booth stage.
How can it be that a 95 decibel riff from Cheap Trick is literally music to the town's ears, but aircraft noise no louder than the human voice threatens tranquility?
You guessed it - Cary has skin in the rock concert game. Cary owns Koka Booth Amphitheatre, and the venue is losing some serious cash.
According to town documents, Cary is expected to lose $156,000 on the amphitheatre's operations this year, on an operating budget of $816,000. The operating loss in 2011 is projected to be $200,000, with another $85,000 to be spent on capital improvements, which appear to be more in the line of maintenance than structural improvements.
By raising the allowable noise level to 95 decibels, Cary officials demonstrated that they understand that booking more performances by the North Carolina Symphony may endear them to the arts community, but it isn't going to make a dent in the venue's deficit. Landing more geezer-rock groups from the '80s will.
In 2010, popular, nationally acclaimed rock bands generated $337,000 in net revenue for the amphitheatre. The seven N.C. Symphony performances lost money, as did theater performances. Community festivals did well, and documents show that SMG, the venue's management company, did a good job squeezing money from rentals, concessions and just about anything else they could think of.
Yet it still wasn't enough to pay all the bills.
Which is why the Town Council is willing to allow more noise in order to attract acts that can generate more revenue. And why Raleigh went out on a limb and negotiated a naming rights deal with a beer distributorship for its newly opened downtown amphitheatre, knowing it would need an exemption from state ABC laws in order for the deal to stick. (That limb was cut when the state ABC Commission failed grant the exemption.)
These are examples of how far local governments will go to make entertainment venues self-supporting - an elusive goal. Just ask officials and taxpayers in Roanoke Rapids.
I admit, offering such entertainment to the public is seductive, but they're often bait and switch operations. Usually they're sold as quality-of-life enhancements that bring fine arts to the community. But the fine arts are rarely self-supporting, and so concerts featuring Styx are justified to pay for performances of Shakespeare.
As venues age, maintenance and capital costs mount and fine arts performances are squeezed even more. These operations are even harder to support during a recession, when entertainment dollars are among the first to dry up.
I have no idea why so many mayors and council members are closet concert promoters. But the Koka Booth Amphitheatre experience should be a lesson. If the financial pressure forces public officials to clear the way for nighttime noise louder than a jet overhead - that's probably a clue that entertainment is best left to the private sector.
