So you trash a local paper for attempting to provide a forum. It seems the attempt was to shut down the topic when it was reduced to name calling and blame? My only comment is that if they (the paper) required people to register including valid name and email address it would stop random posting and elimate the ability to hide behind anonymous posts.

We have _no_ idea who made the orignal post on that topic. Also who is to say the parents mentioned in the parking lot could have very well been Cal High parents? Everyone makes assumptions that may or may not be valid.

What difference does it make regarding who wrote the 'original post on that topic?' The person saw questionable behavior at a school event and was upset by it, and wanted to express that and get feedback, what's wrong with that?
I am at the intersection of Valley and Santa Rita Road every morning driving my kids to school. I see people going through red lights, especially red arrows, every morning. There are often children waiting to cross the street at that intersection. It's disconcerting. Many of the red light runners look like parents, (they have children in the car.)
That is questionable behavior that I witness daily, it upsets me, and I think this forum is a great way to share information that concerns us. Other people who feel the same way can realize they're not alone, and the people who are running the red lights can continue do so.
I don't feel that I am 'airing dirty laundry.' It's not a shameful secret. The same thing happens in other cities across the good ole USA. I don't think there's an audience of other town's residents out there wagging their fingers at Pleasanton and saying, "For shame!"
I have lived in many states, and it's pretty much the same all over. There's nothing to be ashamed of when someone posts a concern of theirs about life in Pleasanton.
It's interesting to read about other people's experiences. Maybe we can actually improve community life by thinking about what we read here. Maybe you won't go through that red light when you see a child waiting to cross that street. One can dream.