GARDNER, KAREN (1970 - ?) Delinquent, runaway. It's depressingly inevitable that Karen Gardner's family has chosen to commemorate the twentieth anniversary of her disappearance with a so-called ‘Festival of Youth'. For eighteen years, after all, they've used her name to celebrate nonentity with the ridiculous awards farrago that's bolstered by taxpayers' money. If a Karen Gardner Award has become a guarantee of non-achievement then what can we expect of the Festival of Youth? According to the Examiner, Keith Gardner has arranged for various local pop-groups to perform at the event. I know for a fact that my brother Spencer, whose entire repertoire consists of the bellowed recital of unsavoury fixations, has been engaged to participate. No doubt the usual miscellaneous pests and oddballs will be prominent, juggling or distributing pamphlets. It's not in my nature to be objectionable for the sake of it, but could anything be less appropriate? Drug peddlers, occult dabblers and perverts will descend on the Trossachs in their hundreds, eyes narrowed in the direction of their prey. I'm not being deliberately contentious in stating my objection to such a venture. While I've no desire to engage in name-calling it seems obvious that such a fat-headed and inappropriate scheme could only be hatched by publicity hounds bolstered by two decades of false encouragement. Keith, the author of this dark melodrama, must on occasion pause to reflect that, had his sister never gone missing, he would be expected to fulfil some other role in life than general scaremonger.

 

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