That's Entertainment

The ongoing catfight between Orlando Sentinel columnists Mike Thomas and Mike Bianchi has certainly been entertaining. It's also been educational, if we only pay attention.

As I have spelled out repeatedly in this space, Orlando is at a crossroads. Ever since Walt Disney opened his theme park on 27,400 acres of former swampland on the Osceola/Orange county line in 1971, residents of the area have been content - or perhaps compelled - to act as the world's unwitting hosts. As more theme parks, hotels, and resorts sprung from the sandy soil over the ensuing 35 years, Central Floridians were blindsided. Tourism became the 800-pound gorilla, turning a sleepy citrus-and-cattle town into one of the world's most popular destinations.

Miami had Henry Flagler and his railroad. Orlando had Walt and a five-foot mouse.

Now, after three decades of explosive growth, there's enough of a "resident" population in central Florida to make the facility debate interesting. On the surface, we're talking about a new arena for the Magic, upgrades for the Citrus Bowl, and a new performing arts center. The undercurrent is this: do the locals care enough to join the debate? Does the siren song of great weather, ample employment, and no state income tax lull Orlando-area residents into a sugar coma while disconnected hoteliers and developers rake in the cash, or will the populace demand that some of those dollars go towards an identity of its own?

With the right people making the right decisions, Orlando could be Charlotte - home to major professional sports teams playing in attractive facilities, and home to the finest cultural oppportunities available. It's worth noting that the Carolina Panthers and the Charlotte Bobcats compete for residents' discretionary dollars with the North Carolina Blumenthal Performing Arts Center, which opened in 1992 and infuses $50 million dollars into the Charlotte economy annually.

See, it CAN be done.

Not to pick on Mike Thomas, who is both an excellent writer and, like me, a native Floridian, but he's used a term in his rants that strikes me as misguided. That term is "needed."

As in, "[Orlando] might not be so willing to blow $200 million on an empty Citrus Bowl if that means short-changing a badly needed performing-arts center." (Orlando Sentinel, May 4)

Or, "So we see the fortunes of a needed performing arts center tied to a plan to spend $175 million on the Citrus Bowl." (Sentinel, April 25)

In this case, "needed" is an adjective meaning "necessary for relief or supply." Further investigation at Dictionary.com defines "necessary" as "absolutely essential; indispensible."

In other words, he views a performing arts center as absolutely essential for relief or supply. Of culture, I would assume.

My question is this: why are the performing arts - music, dance, and the like - viewed as "needed," while professional sports are not? In both cases, the performers get paid for their services, dependent upon the discretionary spending of the consumer. In both cases, years of training and dedication are required to reach the highest levels. Simply put, both are forms of entertainment. Why the gap in perception?

I have a theory, one that I'm openly stealing from Joel Glass, the Media Relations director for the Magic: held up against other forms of entertainment, pro sports are often viewed as tawdry simply because the performers are getting paid a lot of money. Never mind that Adam Sandler is making $20 million per movie - we shake our heads at $5 million a year for a backup point guard.

What if the salary structure for opera singers, first cellists, and sculptors were similar to that of pro athletes? What if the principal dancers for the Orlando Ballet, for example, were signed to six-year, $60 million dollar guaranteed contracts? Would we view "the arts" in the same way? Would you still feel that a performing arts center was "needed," or would you be demanding that the artistic director pay for the damn thing himself?

It doesn't happen that way, of course, because we live in a free market society. Consumers vote with their checkbooks. As far as I know, the Green Bay Philharmonic Orchestra doesn't have a twenty-year waiting list for season tickets. That's not a criticism of the arts - it's financial reality, as determined by the tastes and desires of the consumer.

Before anyone rolls their eyes at "another homer sports guy rant," I'll point out that two of the original founders of the Orlando Ballet in 1974, when it was known as Southern Ballet Theatre, were Kip Watson and Barbara Riggins. Brother and sister. My uncle and aunt. Most of my dad's side of the family built careers in the performing arts, from "The June Taylor Dancers" to Southern Ballet Theatre to the New York City Ballet to the Royal Danish Ballet to Disneyland Tokyo to FSU's Theatre Department and beyond. In fact, if you were to search the Orlando Sentinel archives from the early '80s, you'd find a cover story from the Calendar section entitled "The Watsons: They Dance." Seriously.

Not me, of course. I'm a TV guy. Different sort of performer.

Which brings me back to my point: the arts, and sports, are both forms of entertainment. They are not "needed," by the dictionary definition. They are desired. They enrich our quality of life, open our minds, and get us excited. They make us better for the experience. For that reason, we value them, and support them.

But because pro athletes make a lot of money - and generate a lot of money - and most performers in the "traditional arts" don't, arguing against an arena or a football stadium and in favor of a performing arts center becomes a convenient, bulletproof stance, one that can be trotted out as proof of intellect and social awareness. It's also terribly hypocritical, and the wrong argument anyway.

Just because one doesn't happen to enjoy sports is no reason to argue that sports are irrelevant. Conversely, only a lunkhead would argue against the arts. However, both are forms of entertainment - something we value in our society, for reasons outlined above - and that means making a choice. Not one against the other, as has so irresponsibly been submitted by many a critic, but all or nothing. Do we do this for ourselves, or do we remain comatose?

In the weeks and months to come, we're all going to find out what that sleepy citrus-and-cattle town chooses. I'll be watching from a front-row seat.