Roots

Working full-time can be a real drag on the reading queue. I have several shiny books that I have yet to crack, all on account of this pesky occupation I've chosen. Right now (and for the past six months) I'm in the middle of a volume that isn't all that glossy, as my wife picked it up for me at a used book store. It's called Cities on a Hill, by journalist Francis FitzGerald. Not the most outstanding book in the world, and, by this point, it is quite outdated. Nonetheless, what it has done (at least to the point I have gotten) is set forth how certain societal groups have used land use to create identity and a self-contained world for fostering their beliefs and ways of life. Together these communities have established what they see as "roots" in a place they call home. So far I've gotten through the sections on the Castro District in San Francisco, which is often considered one of the first "gay neighborhoods" in America, and the section on the late Jerry Falwell and the empire he had created for himself in Lynchburg, Virginia. Both areas were emblematic of how like-minded individuals could come together and define themselves by defining a place as their own.

Despite the unity exhibited in these two close-knit communities, a stronger force continues to seek to rip them apart. A recent account of the Castro district pinpointed for me the way in which the inexorable land use process tends to govern even the most principled of community experiments. Sure, the death of the Castro has been voiced on many occasions, several times by those who wished it to occur. The resilience of the neighborhood endured, yet the economic and demographic realities of land use have chipped away at the identity of the area. Expensive condominium developments have attracted straight infiltrators to the neighborhood for its "new eclecticism." The gay populace has fanned out to other neighborhoods in the city, and the suburbs. What this really means is that the Castro's initial life as the center of gay culture has evolved into a tourist attraction for the history it represents. Francis FitzGerald noted these trends twenty years ago. Even back then it was the scourge of land use demands that kept the neighborhood shifting and changing and reshaping itself. The same forces will continue to push it into the future, and new directions.

The whole idea of "roots" seems impossible to me in a world where land use forces govern so much regarding the places in we live, work and play. The myth of one's "roots" is further highlighted by the changes that take place to lands that at one time contained not neighborhoods, but instead real-live roots, and the trees that rise on their foundation. For instance, in the Adirondack Forest Preserve, quandaries exist over what to do with 161,000 unbroken acres north of New York City, which were recently purchased by the Nature Conservancy. A good many people want to see the land continue to exist as it has before memory, serving today as excellent camping and hunting areas (for those into that sort of thing). However, because the environmental group has taken on a hefty financial obligation to acquire the lands, the Nature Conservancy has had to concede that it must also be in the logging business and the real estate business. It may even sell off some of its booty to be developed for residential and commercial uses. Even the most high and mighty realize the need to feed the beast.

In a lot of ways, it's tough to see things go. And there must be restraint exercised whenever possible. But there's a reason all of these upheavals happen from the center of San Francisco, to the Adirondack highlands. Only a desire, and big sword, to slay the land use monster can prevent us from continuing our never-ending pursuit to change things from the way they were.

Hot Spots

As with the rest of America, I've been keeping a passing eye on what's happening in Southern California these days with the fires ravaging swaths of land across the region. Hundreds of thousands of people have been forced to flee their homes to escape the flames. The effects are catastrophic, with over a 1,000 homes destroyed to date, and the region being turned upside down. Having just moved from the Los Angeles area at the end of last year, my thoughts turn to the places that I've been that are now either in trouble or have already faced the wrath of the fires. My wife attended Pepperdine, which was on the brink of being engulfed. In Lake Arrowhead, about an hour and half to the east of downtown, friends of mine have a home. Down in Orange County, where more fires rage, other friends live and work. Further down around San Diego, the conflagration has forced the likes of golfer Phil Mickelson to leave his home. The San Diego Chargers were forced to fly to Arizona, to practice for their game this weekend. Their home, Qualcomm Stadium, is being used as an emergency shelter. Even north of Los Angeles, the television show "24" had to suspend shooting in light of the advancing flames.

The sheer size of the fires more than anything else highlights the sheer surface area engulfed by the Los Angeles/San Diego megaplex. And in some ways, this geographic reality, and the land use choices that have been made in creating the Southern California behemoth, have set the stage for such disasters to happen. Essentially an extension of the Mohave Desert, the Los Angeles Basin has pumped in its water, and thus its livelihood, to create the artificial metropolis. Similar to the ways in which 1871 Chicago, and 1666 London suffered the "Great Fires" of the pre-modern world on account of certain practices and land use choices, the same is true of modern day Los Angeles. Whereas Chicago and London lacked sufficient fire fighting techniques and departments, not to mention suffered from overcrowding and unchecked hazardous activities within their city centers, Los Angeles and San Diego has succumbed to being sited on a spot susceptible to drought and unfavorable Santa Ana winds.

There is no place for "I told you so"s in a time like this. In addition, in the course of human events, no matter what we do to prevent bad things from occurring, there will always be a finger to point that suggests it's our own doing. Look to any major metropolitan area in the nation, and each faces some sort of potential for massive calamity. Miami and New Orleans must withstand the ever-growing strength of hurricanes. San Francisco faces the threat of the impending "big one." Even my current home of New York faces the risk of being under water as the polar ice caps continue to melt. And then there's the impending threat occurring in the Southeast, where the water supplies are dwindling to nothing. States, and all sorts of governmental agencies, are fighting over reserves, as the sizes of reservoirs shrink. And slowly the drought conditions going on "down South" are creeping north and west. Are our wasteful land use practices to blame here as well?

At the bottom of it all is the more disturbing hypothesis that no matter how we live, all that our species can really do to stem the tide is to slow down the inevitable, rather than eradicate it completely. Sure, the fires will be extinguished, and the droughts will end. But then what? There are hopeful types out there like recently-minted Nobel laureate Al Gore who believes we can turn things around. But do we really have it in us? And when it comes to our approach to land use, is there really anywhere we can go to prevent us from suffering some level of calamity as a result of where we decide to settle and build? There may be answers, but perhaps the discussion has to grow louder and more sustained.

This is Serious!

Yesterday marked the first anniversary of me throwing out my thoughts on land use to all of you out there. I've enjoyed having the opportunity to do so, and hope to keep it up as we move along. You never can tell how these things go, but I still believe that the world of land use, and the questions it raises, continues to remain highly relevant as we move further and further away from the initial impact of Kelo. For those of you out there who are as conscious as I am to the events happening around us (and I'm sure, some of you moreso), you can see the stakes involved in decisions made by land use boards around the country each day. No, it's not always life and death. Not every homeowner needs that setback variance to build their new swimming pool on his/her property. A multi-billion dollar corporation won't crumble if they don't receive approval for a new outlet that adds to their 10,000-store fleet. But sometimes, these decisions do result in catastrophic consequences for those interested in the outcome.

Take for example the recent case in Clarksville, Tennessee, where a barber shop owner sought a rezoning on his house -- from residential to commercial. Ronald "Bo" Ward came before the City Council for the requested action to help increase the value of his property, which in turn would allow him to obtain a loan to pay off the debt he incurred to expand his shop. The Council voted against the application. In response, Ward pulled out a small handgun, announced, "Y'all have put me under. . . . I'm out of here," and proceeded to shoot himself in the head. Apparently he had relied on a favorable decision to determine whether he would live or die.

And on the other side of the globe, Yang Chunlin, a fifty-two year old out-of-work factory worker, decided to take up the cause of land confiscation going on across China in the midst of its rapid expansion. He circulated an open letter entitled "We want human rights, not the Olympics," and got 10,000 people to sign it. Reminiscent of Kelo, Yang sought to challenge the government's support for securing property for projects developed by private investors. Why the massive support for Yang? Activists argue that over a million people have been displaced in order to construct new sports venues for the coming Olympics in Beijing next summer. For his trouble, Yang was thrown in prison, chained for days in the same position, and assigned to clean up the waste produced by his fellow inmates. For his beliefs, he has been jailed under the catch-all "subverting state power" umbrella. It is unclear when he may be released.

Such stories only reinforce my prior beliefs of the importance of keeping an eye on land use matters going on virtually everywhere on Earth. Perhaps I get a little out of hand with my thesis that land use is this critical, but make your own judgments. Although rare, people take such matters to the extreme by making them life or death choices. There must be a reason. This can be quite serious stuff. As I started this whole endeavor, "The beauty of this unique world is that decisions on where to locate what, and how big, is a highly democratic affair, even greater than voting or serving on a jury." I still believe this. Considering an unemployed factory worker a half a world away can draw the attention of the national media over here, over a petition involving land use questions, reminds me how one person in the process can create a significant impact.

Downtown!

In my head I hear Petula Clark's old hit, "Downtown" racing through my head. Why is that? Well, it could be things are happening around this fabulous land of ours that involves the ever evolving term and place identified by Petula in her ditty. For instance, in Baltimore, Maryland, the push towards attracting more affluent types back to its downtown neighborhoods to populate the newly gentrified housing stock has hit a snag recently. The upheaval in the housing market has sent ripples through the budding movement. Or has it? "I don't see a recession mentality. . . . But you have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to be a little infected by what is being said." This comment comes from a Baltimore bank representative. Is it the media or is it true? Well, probably a little from column A, a little from column B. The reality suggests that the original plan to attract young DC residents to buy into Baltimore, at a cheaper price than in the nation's capital, has cooled. In theory, not a bad plan, considering these new arrivals could do the commute from Baltimore to DC in about an hour by train. The interesting thing in the whole phenomenon is this tidbit, which puts a new spin on the reverse commute -- "downtown" to "downtown."

How about another take on the meaning of "downtown," which is taking place in the most suburban of settings -- the shopping mall. The enclosed shopping mall has increasingly become passe, resulting in reconceptions and redevelopments of them to serve the next generation. One increasingly popular approach is to reuse these spaces as mini-downtowns, where they become mixed-use havens for residential, commercial and office uses. "The mall is the modern town square in most of America," says Joel Kotkin, a commentator on all things land use. Calling them "lifestyle centers," these new places have been created out of the detritus of the past. One example is Nouvelle at Natick, a development outside Boston rising inside of an old Wonder Bread factory and the neighboring Natick Mall. The residences will be incorporated into the existing retail, and the commercial spaces spruced up to cater towards a higher-end crowd. Not exactly a space meant for everyone, but it certainly is another way to think about "downtown." As one new resident of the development notes, "It's like having the city come out to the suburbs."

But there are always going to be certain things associated with "downtown," no matter how people try to reimagine it. Take for instance the issue going on in Barbara M. Asher Square in Atlanta. The gateway to the city's downtown for travelers coming from the airport, the public space is also an eyesore. Homeless folks and others who highlight the seedy side of things tend to occupy the area. Funny smelling smoke wafts through the air. Not all of "downtown" can be nicely scrubbed and fake. There will always be issues. But in a way, that's the whole point of "downtown." It's the confluence of everybody, and every type. Somewhere in the middle of a rehabbed mall and an open sewer. Good and bad. You can take all your troubles. Downtown!