Can police move-one powers save the Food and Wine Frolic? In a way, yes. Let me explain.
Since the first Food and Wine Frolic a decade ago the nature of the event has changed. Evolved is not the right word. Evolution is supposed to have brought life on earth from the primordial slime to a higher state of consciousness, whereas the Food and Wine Frolic transmogrified many patrons from a high state of consciousness into unconsciousness and indeed back to wallow in the primordial slime of rubbish and drink leftovers on the lawn. No; a word meaning the opposite of evolution is needed. Revolution? Revolting.
The first few frolics did something for Canberra. They brought the usually retiring dinner-party set out into the open. The quality restaurants joined in. You could sample from the stalls of nearly two dozen restaurants. Wine merchants sold small tastings. Jazz played. It used to be the last weekend of daylight saving and mark the onset of the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.
People were saying: see, Canberra does have a soul.
The past few years, however, have been different. There have been fewer quality restaurants and more beer swillers. The average age has declined. In short, young louts have wrecked the Food and Wine Frolic.
What is to be done? The capital L Liberals and the police have called for the return of police move-on powers.
But a few police officers moving on one or two violent yobbos might not be enough to help the Food and Wine Frolic. Like every tourist event or attraction, the tourists have spoiled the very thing they come to do or see.
No; more drastic measures are needed. And I don’t mean banning it. Quite the contrary. The event should be given its proper name: the Alcoholic Frolic. Every yobbo should be encouraged to bring whatever non-wine beverage they want to Commonwealth Park on that day. They should be encouraged to scream abuse at each other, trip over their broken glass and chuck into their Eskies. The take-away vans can be invited in to sell whatever non-food edibles they want: hot dogs, hamburgers, chips and fairy floss. The side-show alley merchants can set up more of their ferris wheels and vomit-inducing gadgets that twirl humans round faster than God gave them stomach for.
Meanwhile, those of us who go to a Food and Wine Frolic for the peculiar purpose of sampling good food and wine can retire quietly to the other side of the lake. Behind a discreet but large barbed-wire fence we would invite the quality restaurants to return and provide a more convivial place for the wine merchants.
The admission rules would be quite simple. The charge would $30 a head, rebated in tickets to buy food and wine samples. No bring-your-owns. And people aged between 14 and 27 would be politely “”moved on” to the Alcoholic Frolic on the other side of the lake.