Kelo and Beyond

Innovation, Steve Jobs and Land Use

2011-12-09T18:17:00.000-05:00

As always, I am on the look-out for new and interesting things going on in the world of land use. Not only are new projects part of this constant monitoring, but new methods and ways of doing things are also within my orbit. For instance, despite the fact that the two are inherently linked, it is not always the case that the tremendous technology tools available to land use professionals are integrated into the "face" of land use, i.e., presentations before boards and commissions. GIS and AutoCAD are just a few of the common tools that professionals working on new projects, and planning communities for the next epoch of the built-up environment, rely on to do their jobs. On the legal front, we are more limited in our repertoire. Many of our presentations still rely on easels and poster boards rather than digital images or three-dimensional models to make our case.

I'm reading (or more appropriately, listening) to the new biography, Steve Jobs by Walter Isaacson. Besides the fact that apparently Mr. Jobs had some interpersonal communication issues, the other main spine running through his life was an obsession with how appearances and packaging are just as important as the high quality components inside a great product. This isn't the only reason people have saluted Mr. Jobs as a "visionary", but it highlighted for me how important it is to put on the right "show" when appearing before boards. The medium isn't the message, but it certainly helps to convey it.

Around our office, the most critical technological tools we use involve the continually evolving Google Earth and Bing platforms for viewing the properties which are the subject of our land use applications. Seeing a parcel on the Streetview function on Google Earth brings you, literally, to the window of the building on the site (which of course we're planning on demolishing), along with everything else that stands there today. But putting aside the inherent privacy questions, the cool factor Mr. Jobs always strove for still endures for this amazing tool created by one of his bitter rivals. So when it was released last week that Google has expanded its capabilities into certain public spaces such as shopping malls and airports, it turned my attention back to how the land use and technology partnership should continue to evolve.

More and more it has become common practice for municipalities to create their own slide shows of images to be displayed at board hearings. Also, certain localities enlist internal GIS information, which includes aerial maps depicting a variety of overlays, such as zoning districts and uses, for display at public hearings. While there is no material difference between a site plan on a board or a site plan on a screen, it is the inherent utility that should be considered. The simple question of how to orient the easel, i.e., either towards the board or the public, is seemingly at issue at every hearing. Invariably, the easel ends up being positioned into an awkward angle so that none of the audience constituencies is satisfied.

Ultimately, this will be a moot point, as all municipal chambers will eventually be equipped with sufficient infrastructure to support a more user friendly, technologically based framework. But until that day arrives (which may be a while, in this age of austerity), it is in the hands of the applicant to bring a better experience to all involved. A land use hearing will never be the happening place to go on a weekday evening, but it can be an event where the audience you are trying to convince does not mark the second strike against you for annoying them with visual aids they cannot see. Ironically, in 2010, Mr. Jobs himself presented to the City Council of Cupertino, California, the renderings for the proposed new headquarters for his beloved Apple.

Finally, and in a nod to the hippy lifestyle that Mr. Jobs had great appreciation for, a recent article notes an innovative use for the vacant homes that are the byproduct of the wrenching foreclosure crisis we are still struggling with. In several U.S. cities, particularly in hard-stricken Las Vegas, where 1 in every 44 homes has been slated for foreclosure, distressed homes that have been rented out have been transformed into marijuana "grow-ops". Last year in Nevada, 153 indoor operations were busted, up from 18 in pre-bubble 2005. Despite the illegality, this "think different" approach suggests that there are more uses for a single family home than the conventional wisdom offers -- like building computers in the garage, and with it starting a company named after a fruit.

Welcome Back, Welcome Back, Welcome Back!

2011-08-12T09:49:00.002-04:00

Curiously, I have the theme from Welcome Back, Kotter going through my head as I plot my return to the blogosphere. It has been almost two years since my last confession. Since then, things have been busy on the personal and professional fronts. Of course, that has not meant that I have not been keeping up on the happenings when it comes to land use.

When it comes to the latest, I have been extremely focused on homeownership, as I recently joined the ranks of such unfortunate souls late last year. Aside from the unending reports which predict the end of people owning the place where they lay their head at night, I have to question my own purchase every time there's a new repair that's needed on my wonderful old house, wondering if I'll have better luck than the Baileys in It's a Wonderful Life, or perhaps whether Bob Vila or Norm Abram may live on my block. In fact, a few weeks ago, an enormous tree branch plummeted to the ground next door. Aside from thanking above that it did not fall on my front lawn, I also contemplated if this branch was a comment on the state of affairs.

Attempting to move beyond the immediate concerns which surround us, I am heartened to see that at least in certain respects, our obsession with changes in the built environment remain on the brains of most of us, particularly if a new project is just down the road, or even next door. On another positive note, I just returned from Toronto, a lovely city across the northern border. What struck me most were the seemingly omnipresent cranes and construction sites, particularly in the city's downtown area (which is where I focused my stay).

This, of course, was a far cry from what is going on back home. I returned to learn of the rejection of a proposal in Nassau County, on whether to devote public funds to the chronic Nassau Coliseum site. Not only does it send the endless process back into focus group mode, it also may result in the County's loss of its New York Islanders.

Even more of a blow, though, was the impending death of regional planning on Long Island. The Long Island Regional Planning Council, which has provided a forum to discuss island-wide issues in a very-fragmented political climate, has lost its funding from Nassau County, who battled severe budget issues. The Council remains upbeat, but it may be an uphill pursuit.

Nonetheless, despite all the gloom, I still see the glimmer of new beginnings. I try to stay positive, especially when I see signs of life beyond the horizon.

Reduce, Reuse and Recycle

2009-10-16T00:31:00.000-04:00

Despite the nagging news, talk has turned to how to get out of this economic mess rather than harping on the doomsday state of things. In my humble opinion, it's time we all shake off the doldrums and get back to reviewing a bit of good solid land use activity out there. As we move into the post-Google world, in which everyone has access to every square inch of the face of the Earth from their computer screens, there is no mystery anymore, there is no "virgin land" to explore, no Lost City of Z. That doesn't mean though, that something can't be made from the land use of generations past. Reduce, reuse, recycle, as the motto goes, and that is the business of land development these days. How do we make new the old, and turn it into something great for generations to come?

Visionaries

One recent passing highlights this can-do spirit that motivated our forefathers, as embodied in such types as Melvin Simon, the mall magnate who passed not long ago at 82. From the Bronx to the biggest mall builder in the country (and beyond), Simon is the example of how to create new spaces for people -- at least if it meant auto-driven retail centers. Despite the fact that malls have gone through transition, and the model is on the significant wane, he created the new, and people flocked to it. To his credit, he was at the forefront of bringing movie theaters to malls, to keep them lively into the evening hours. Perhaps just short of his work in producing "Porky's," Simon's main achievement was providing inspiration, if not a vision, to respond to demand for new public spaces.

The vision tag, if not one for execution, could be attached as well to French President Nicolas Sarkozy, whose grand plan for Paris is his attempt to place his stamp on the City of Lights. In his scheme are far-reaching proposals to unite the suburban ring with the central city through a massive infrastructure infusion to the region. Currently, a ring highway separates the two politically distinct subsets of the metropolis. The dearth of affordable housing in the area is also a problem, and Sarkozy wants to work towards solving this void as well, which may include the dreaded skyscrapers which the city has worked hard to eschew. Of course, the economic conditions are to blame for the scaled-back version Sarkozy now proposes. But the view toward the future must be commended as a vision toward reusing and reshaping Paris' footprint.

How about Supermayor Michael Bloomberg, who is working to transform neighborhoods fraught with low income and high rates of obesity and diabetes into healthier places, on several different levels, by pushing through a new plan to encourage the building of supermarkets in these impoverished areas. Specifically, zoning and tax incentives will be built into the City zoning code and tax laws, respectively, in order to bring more stores to these neighborhoods.

Preserve the Old

Preservation is another example of reusing the old by simply keeping it in order for future users. Not everything needs to be "updated" and "modernized", but can be continued with a few upgrades here and there. In Los Angeles, where it seems even the thought of preservation a travesty, there was a recent war of words started by the Los Angeles Times, which appeared to misunderstand that the City actually already has certain safeguards in place for historic structures -- since 1962. As one responder notes, of the 880,000 parcels in Los Angeles, only 975 are "historic." Nonetheless, in a place where sprawl is king, any little reuse is a good thing.

In a quirky turn regarding preservation and recycling, the Lincoln Branch Library in Peoria, Illinois, is stuck in the difficult position of having to remove a 19th century pioneer burial ground in order to continue to use through expansion its existing 1910 building originally financed by Andrew Carnegie. The public relations person for the library noted, "'It really is an architecturally important building. . . . A used building is a preserved building."

Clever Reimaginations

How about industrial site to parkland? In Chicago, a former U.S. Steel manufacturing works is being redeveloped into a park nestled up against Lake Michigan. In the meantime, a local mead maker has struck a deal to allow 300,000 honey bees the swarm the area, in an effort to create his alcoholic concoction. As he claims, "The honey made here from wildflowers is just as good if not better than any I have found anywhere." It it works, and the land can be reused, why not?

Back in Kings Park, NY, my childhood hometown, the battle continues over the Kings Park Psychiatric Center property, which is located on 518 acres on the north shore of Long Island. Currently, the plan is likewise to convert it into a park. However, the Long Island Regional Planning Council has suggested that several of the existing buildings be reused for affordable housing. Not surprisingly, the Kings Park community has exercised its NIMBY muscles, and expressed its displeasure with such a suggestion. The State of New York remains noncommittal on the proposal. Down the road at the Pilgrim State facility, where developer Gerald Wolkoff is seeking to build a $4-billion mixed-use project, the Town of Islip is pushing ahead with public comment, in an effort to redevelop another vacant jewel on an already crowded Long Island.

The industrial site turned park that has received the most attention in these parts as of late is the new High Line park in the meatpacking district of Manhattan. It is ironic that when the Standard Hotel opened back in April, the talk was of the architectural adeptness of the new structure which towers over the new park. Of course, industrious types turned the exposed windows of the hotel into exhibition spots for sordid trysts for all to see, including the families walking the new park grounds. Ah, isn't adaptive reuse a wonderful thing?

Holdouts

Of course, recycling old spaces to make them new is not always for the better, or without reverie for the old. For instance, with the proliferation of big box stores in the Bronx, New York, one commentator harkens back to the late 1970's, when times were simpler, when people could just "hang out." In some ways, I can see his point.

And some people see attempts at reshaping places, even when it means a greener world, as not worth the view. For instance, recent efforts to construct windmills on residential properties, in an attempt to generate energy self-sufficient homes, have been rejected by local land use boards on height, aesthetic and safety grounds. Another novel approach from around the country has been using tight urban backyards as barnyards for raising chickens and other critters for very local consumption. Not everyone is excited, particularly the neighbors. In New Haven, one governmental official noted, "'Raising your own food is cool, but not when you have yards that are 20 feet by 30 feet.'" In Santa Monica, California, a similar movement is afoot whereby wannabe community gardeners are being connected with busy homeowners to create backyard community gardens to further green the southern California burg. The impetus came from a five-year waiting period for community garden space on public tracts.

On the other side of things, the view is everything. In Tokyo, a group of civic-minded residents have formed the Society to Protect Nippori's Fujimizaka, an organization designed to preserve the view corridor of Mount Fuji from the last of 16 slopes in central Tokyo from where one can view the majestic volcano. Of course, their first attempts failed to block a 14-story apartment building which is now in the way. Ever the optimists: "Then we realized there is still two-thirds of the view left. So we decided, let's protect that."

Return from the Abyss

Recycling doesn't always have to mean the land on which projects are built. Jean Chretien, the former Canadian prime minister, has reinvented himself as, among other things, a facilitator of economic development, including a $4.5 billion casino planned along the South China Sea, south of Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. Other novel permutations of the concept of recycling includes a movement, led by such advocacy groups as one called Take Back the Land, whereby squatters are filling the void left by foreclosed homeowners to keep these otherwise vacant homes vibrant and kept. They are moving in through the front door, and receive support from neighbors, who would rather have someone there than not. The organizations do perform background checks, and require new residents to work to upkeep the house and pay the utility bills.

In Victorville, California, another approach has been employed. Where a builder defaulted on the construction of a new housing development, the bank which took over the property decided to tear down the four houses already constructed, as it was the cheaper alternative to completing the development. At least the demolition firm will be recycling the remaining usable materials. Another way to waste not, want not, is taking place in towns looking to redefine themselves from manufacturing hubs to biotech leaders. For instance, in Kannapolis, North Carolina, Shreveport, Louisiana, and Huntsville, Alabama, they are constructing new facilities to attract biotech firms. This is a risky proposition, say some, as the industry hasn't exactly been known for consistent profits. But desperate times have bred such measures as the Biopolis of Kannapolis in an attempt to save dying towns.

A Little Bit O' Hockey, and a Little Bit O' Basketball

Still other ways to reuse can be found in the field of architecture, where the controversial Atlantic Yards project in Brooklyn fired renowned architect Frank Gehry, in place of a more cost-conscious vision. The second architect was then replaced with Shop Architects, which has attempted to bring back the original Gehry elements, scaled down from the original version. Nonetheless, the old becomes new again.

Farther out on Long Island, a similar project is being proposed by Charles Wang, the owner of the NHL's New York Islanders, which is facing hurdles from local officials. Dubbed the Lighthouse project, the plan is to redevelop the decrepit Nassau Coliseum, and create a hub of mixed use activity around the sea of asphalt now occupying the site.

On the other end of the recycling spectrum, in Portland, Oregon, the fondness for Memorial Coliseum has stimulated the citizenry to save the structure where the Portland Trail Blazers won an NBA Championship in 1977. The indoor space has been saved from demolition and replacement with an outdoor baseball stadium by earning a spot on the National Register of Historic Places.

Is It Worth Saving?

Still farther out on Long Island, plans are afoot to save what remains of Wardenclyffe, Nikola Tesla's grand lair for wireless communication technology. A group of scientists would like to save the site, which includes the foundation for a 187-foot tower which once sent out wireless messages, and the accompanying laboratory designed by famed architect Stanford White. Right now the land is up for sale, and the owner, the Agfa Corporation, is forced to sell to the highest bidder.

And then there's the other side of the ledger, where one Kansas community claims there is "wasted land." Treece, Kansas, population 140, was a thriving mining town until the 1970's. Its sister town, Picher, Oklahoma, operated in similar fashion. However, once the two places were declared Superfund sites, the EPA's course of action was to buy out the residents and relocate them rather than clean up the community. The buyouts, unfortunately, stopped at the state line, with the residents of Picher receiving the largesse. Treece remains, with the hope from residents that they will be bought out, rather than wait for the EPA to clean up their town. The EPA does intend to remediate the Kansas side. In most cases recycling is the answer. In Treece, most people just want out.

And Finally . . .

And as a parting note, the award for reuse in the most unique way in the land use realm must go to Tod Curtis, the owner of a pizzeria in Mt. Prospect, Illinois, who is finding an interesting new use for the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, or RICO. Mr. Curtis is claiming that the village's elected officials have been conducting an "'ongoing enterprise and scheme'" against him to force him out of his building, which he has owned for 41 years, to acquire it for a new commercial and residential complex. "'You have to take a stand somewhere,'" he said. Why not with the aid of making the old new?

It's All About Tolerance

2009-04-07T12:56:00.000-04:00

I know, I know. How can you expect to generate a following in the blogosphere when you post dangerously infrequently? Well, that certainly is a valid question. But it also got me on the subject of tolerance, and how much people are willing to take. A curious thing recently happened in a West Los Angeles neighborhood, not far from where I lived when I called LA home. The Museum of Tolerance, an institution devoted to educating visitors about the Holocaust, has received approval to expand its facilities to accommodate additional space for receptions and banquets. Not so much in the spirit that the museum seeks to expound, the neighbors are unwilling to tolerate the intrusion. This includes Frances Simon, a Holocaust survivor who lives in the area. "The traffic, noise and music would disrupt the neighborhood. . . . It's like dancing on the dead people's memory." This stark scene also brought to mind the very different sorts of "tolerance" that come into play in the land use realm. Sure, there's the tolerance of neighbors impacted by new projects. But there is also the tolerance of developers, who must decide how much they are willing to give up in order to obtain an approval. In the middle are the government actors who must make determinations, not only based on the law, but factoring in how much they are willing to tolerate in jibes, and potential litigation, that may come from unsuccessful parties.

In some cases, tolerance must extend to the idiosyncrasies of neighbors. Take for instance a recent case on the eastern end of Long Island, where a man has chosen to install a 6-foot tall smiling hot dog on his back yard lawn. The Town of East Hampton has undertaken various methods to force the resident to clean up his property, which includes other assorted "collectibles" on the parcel. The Town ultimately took him to court, resulting in a victory for the Town on a littering charge. In the end, the Town's tolerance gave out. And one man's love for crazy knick knacks suffered a setback. And how about in Coney Island, the former beach resort that faces major plans for a major facelift, where the city of New York, the major developer and a prominent civic association are at odds as to how the hallowed land should be transformed for the coming decades. The city wants to create an "amusement district," which will bring back the good ol' days. The developer wants something more practical, which incorporates hotels and retail into the equation. The civic group, the Municipal Art Society, wants a bigger scale amusement proposal to really attract the summer-going pleasure seeker. And the residents of the area just want to bring in services and economic development to keep the area viable. It's a battle of neighbor against neighbor, in a battle where it seems many of the players are missing the point of the game.

In these tough economic times, a different kind of tolerance has been required. For instance, Charles Wang, the former head of Computer Associates turned real estate developer, is still pushing ahead with his Lighthouse plan which will redevelop the area in and around the Nassau Coliseum, the current home of the New York Islanders. His method to keep the hope alive: the federal stimulus package, of course, which is being sought as a potential source for new infrastructure improvements proposed at the site. In Las Vegas, tolerance has lost out, as the lofty plans for celebrity-sponsored condo towers on the Strip have given way to cancelled plans and half-sold projects. Even gaming revenue is down. Sure, Steve Wynn, entered with the new Encore resort in December, but even he may have to tolerate some slow times. In South-Central Los Angeles, the answer has been to become a little more tolerant, and argue the cause for bringing in businesses that are still very active in the land use game, such as Wal-Mart. There, a local activist, Eddie Caire, started a petition campaign to bring the behemoth to the neighborhood, for the jobs and economic growth it could attract. And people are signing it. In Ontario, Canada, with more of a history with the government-backed approach, is injecting a half a billion dollars into transit improvements, so that "Ontario [is] a place where gridlock doesn't hold you back." Canadian mayors of some of the country's largest cities are also pushing for more transit aid, in order to fix the roads, and put people to work. As the mayor of Kitchener, Ontario explained, "The municipalities are likely the best ways to deliver some infrastructure and the jobs and the shovels in the ground." Of course, the money from the federal government will come with strings, requiring matching funds from municipalities, and time limits on using the money. In Atlanta, times are so tough that the White House is up for sale: or at least, a replica built by a home developer in the southern metropolis.

There are other issues of tolerance to contend with in the land use realm. Take the dreaded automobile. New York City has recently set forth its latest response to the infernal contraption by planning a portion of Broadway in midtown Manhattan to become a pedestrian mall, decked out with cafe tables and benches. Planned to begin in May, the effort may be extended from its initial test run. As a further cut in these tough times, the city of New York has ordered that nearly 700 city-owned cars be returned so they may be sold off and also save millions. This is in conjunction with the elimination of free parking spots for thousands of city workers in car-clogged New York. And in Los Angles, where the automobile still remains king, incidental effects are still fought in order to keep some sense of order to their built-up environment. Recently, the City adopted a ban on "supergraphics," or essentially billboard-scale drapes over buildings that also depict advertising messages. Tenants of these buildings have gotten into the battle, legally challenging landlords for their right to unobstructed view to light and the natural view beyond their windows. One dental hygienist claims it's harder to see in her office. "If I can't see properly, I could be causing people to be having undue contact with a chemical." The legal background to the supergraphics debate is a long-running court case challenging a 2002 city ordinance against new billboards. With so many drivers about town, advertisers see the large signs as a major source in getting their message out. But the recipients can only take so much.

The same is true of cell towers. Near and dear to my heart, wireless telecommunication facilities continue to sprout up as the demand for more and more amenities on mobile phones continues to increase. The Telecommunications Act of 1996 typically shifts the balance of power in the hands of the wireless providers. But municipalities and residents, when willing to fight, do have ammunition. When discussing one recent battle where the residents came out "victorious," i.e., the tower was not approved even though the gap in service remains, one expert on the residents' side concluded, "They didn't give up. . . . That's what happens when people in their community band together and put their seat belts on. They're tough." Simply put, their intolerance bred the fortitude to tolerate the fight.

And what about that symbol of international tolerance - the Olympics? Well, the recent and soon-to-be hosts of the worldwide spectacle may have something to say against it. In Beijing, the host of last summer's entry, the building boom that came to accommodate the games has left a huge cavernous wake in the midst of the world economic slowdown. By one estimate, 100 million square feet of office space, or a 14-year supply, lies vacant in the city. The majestic National Stadium used for the opening and closing ceremonies, as well as the track and field events, has one event scheduled this year. The venue built for baseball will be demolished to make way for a shopping mall. Forty-three billion dollars and 1.5 million displaced residents later, China is left to pick up the pieces. Sure, the vacancies are piling up in the U.S., as well, but at least most of the empty space at one time had been full. In Vancouver, the host of the upcoming 2010 Winter Games, the City of Vancouver is suffering from the pressures of putting on a good show. The City's debt rating has been downgraded, and the cost overruns have extended over the $125 million mark. The cause was Vancouver's decision to take the reins of the financing for the Olympic Village for the incoming athletes, to ensure a timely completion for the host's Olympic overlords.

It is not just the Olympics that have caused such upheaval for the hosts of large-scale sporting events. For New Delhi, which is hosting the 2010 Commonwealth Games, similar large-scale projects are planned. In order for the space to be available for the new athletic venues, and to provide a "cleaner" image for those newcomers who will see the metropolis for the first time, the government has demolished and cleared out existing slum areas around the city. Although the city plans to build new residential units for some of these slum dwellers, the need is more than the planned supply. Inevitably, those left out will have to tolerate even worse conditions to survive in the city. On the other end of the ledger, in Los Angeles, plans are underway to end the tolerance of slipshod housing conditions, by initiating new plans for providing affordable housing to its needy residents. Included amongst the plan are "housing incentive zones," which will provide relaxed zoning standards and expedited permitting if affordable units are included in new housing plans.

Talking about affordable housing, what about those who have no chance of buying anything in pricey New York City, even in the reduced-rate climate of today? Count myself in that category. But a novel fund-raising plan at the Queens Museum of Art allows cash-strapped and real estate-poor New Yorkers to purchase their own little piece of heaven - a "home" on the 9,335 square-foot model of the city that the museum houses as a remnant from the 1964 World's Fair. Since updated to include new structures, like the newly-opened Citi Field, a model house can be had, at tolerable prices. For $250, a donor can buy a single family home. New Yorkers already tolerate pretty cramped quarters to begin with, but this may be pushing it too far.

What about inventive ways to make it through the intolerable economic downturn? Take Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where construction and economic growth continues, thanks to plans that began back in the early 1980's to overcome the cataclysmic shift away from the steel industry. The growth of education and health care in the region has fostered an economy that has withstood the deepest effects of the current recession. A new casino and a new hockey arena anchor the blossoming investment in the former rust belt town. But even Pittsburgh is beginning to feel the pain. The question is, can it withstand another downturn? There's no choice but to fight.

But putting aside the economic woes, if it's possible, there are still good ol' conventional land use issues out there that resolve around people's ability to tolerate (or not tolerate) everyone else. For instance, in St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada, the city council recently imposed a moratorium on new drive-throughs within their municipality. Queuing lines out onto roadways have caused increasing concerns, especially at those establishments that serve people's morning coffee. As a local blogger noted, in blaming the council for approving the drive-throughs in the first place, that, "We have a legitimate problem, an inconvenience at best - a danger at worst." St. John's is not willing to take it anymore. On a larger scale, the issue of coal ash is becoming more than a simple nuisance, in light of a recent spill of toxic sludge in Eastern Tennessee. Despite periodic efforts to control these byproducts of coal production, there are over 1,300 dumps around the United States that house these materials, which contain potentially harmful heavy metals. Will the Environmental Protection Agency under the new leadership seek to do more? Only time, and tolerance, will tell.

In Los Angeles, the newly re-elected mayor, Anthony Villaraigosa, is getting antsy with the protracted timetable for his "Subway to the Sea," the grand plan to provide viable public transport for denizens of that city's heavily-populated west side. As of right now, the plan would have the transit line making it to the Westwood neighborhood by 2032, and no definite plan to continue to the sea several miles further to the west in Santa Monica. This line is being planned in conjunction with several other light-rail lines to be added to the existing fledgling network around the metropolis. But will the mayor be able to wait the time it will take to get everything done? In New Orleans, there is no time like the present to keep rebuilding the city ravaged by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. The city has $19 billion in federal money burning a hole in its pockets, allowing it to continue to lift itself from the depths. Even tourism is holding its own, with a bustling Mardi Gras celebration having taken place this year. For those who put up with the worst of times, there may be a light at the end of the tunnel.

How about tolerance for gay rights? Not exactly a topic that always comes to the fore in the land use context, but in California, a recent court decision jumped into the fray in the property context. The court ruled that where a local congregation of the Anglican Church decided to break away from the national organization because the national church had consecrated a gay man, the national church may take back the local church property. Part of a larger national issue in which hundreds of congregations are seeking to break from the national organization, the ruling may stem this tide, and force a little more tolerance on these rogue congregations.

Back in LA, where it seems the level of tolerance is dangerously low, there is another reason to be disgruntled where new parking regulations will extend the hours when you have to feed the meter, particularly in neighborhoods with nighttime entertainment options. In Chicago, people are mad as hell about McMansions, and have come up with a way to fight the technique in established communities of tearing down smaller homes and replacing them with behemoths. North Shore suburbs such as Evanston and Winnetka have instituted so-called "demolition taxes" against this practice, in order for towns to recoup losses caused by damage to parkway trees and roads. Some towns are using the fees for affordable-housing plans. Others also see it as another revenue stream in the downturn.

And what about Donald Trump? Who can stand him? He's raised the ire of some with his plan to build a catering hall on the south shore of Long Island. He won the first round in state court, but won't start constructing until he learns the fate of his $500 million damage claim for all of the delays caused by the State of New York. Sure, he could build now, he says. "The credit markets are terrible, but I could finance it many times over with my personal account." Nonetheless, he's decided to tolerate the wait required to watch the machinery of justice go to work. On the other side of the country, in Cabazon, California, the most hated man is Calvin Louie, the head of the Cabazon Water District, which serves the brave 2,300 who live in the unincorporated area outside Palm Springs. The battle for water is so contentious, and Louie operates such a tight ship, that some customers have expressed their displeasure in unique ways. One unknown subject dropped a slithering rattlesnake through the mail slot of the tiny office. "It was a pretty good size, too, slithered right under the desk." It's a level of hatred perhaps approaching the depth, if not the breath, of the hatred for Mr. Trump.

And in the forests of the great north, the question of tolerance is how the long the rest of us will be able to shoulder the practices contributing to global warming, which are causing the great Canadian forests to the north to dramatically shift from carbon suckers to carbon generators. In Oregon, the Interior Department recently opened up 2.6 million acres of federal forests to increased logging, which has caused the battle to rage again over how much is enough to cut. Like all of the above matters, the question comes down to what's most important, and what values can be preserved in times of crisis.

But not everyone is suffering these days. In Battle Mountain, Nevada, the area is awash in money as they benefit from the skyrocketing value of gold. Mining the valuable mineral in the surrounding area, the desolate area has enjoyed a boom in these sad times. The question will be for the residents, when good times do return for the rest of the economy, whether this run was worth the harder times that would return when the value of gold inevitably falls again. But for the immediate, the real question for the denizens of Battle Mountain is if they can stand driving 75 miles for decent Chinese food.

Shepherds

2008-12-22T12:25:00.000-05:00

Okay, okay, so I've been a bit naughty in neglecting my blogging duties over the last few months, but now that it is the holiday season, it is time to try to return to the ranks of the nice. With all the coming talk of shepherding as a noble profession, especially in connection with the little guy born on December 25th all those years ago that we'll be celebrating shortly, it seems fitting that thoughts of what land use is all about oftentimes revolves around a different type of shepherding. As I sat through a planning board hearing last week, waiting for the board to approve an application, I thought a lot about how what we do is nudge projects along, making sure people, and the omnipresent paperwork, get to their proper destination, and with the desired effect. The reason why things do or don't happen is because of the champions of causes that may or may not stand the test of the centuries.

Why do projects, or places, succeed or fail? It is standard fare to take a hard look at a place, and determine whether it is a locale to be, or simply a spot that languishes in the past. For instance, a recent account took a hard look at the Great American Pyramid in Memphis, Tennessee, and its failed dreams of bringing prosperity to the region that surrounds it. Unlike the similarly-shaped edifices in Giza, Egypt, the Memphis version has become a relic in a generation. The shepherd in this case was Sidney Shlenker, who sold Memphis on a grand vision of a pyramid that would serve all people with a multiplicity of possible uses. However, Mr. Shlenker failed to make it to the finish line, losing his role in the venture when he could not raise his portion of the cost to build it. Constructed on low-lying ground at the edge of the Mississippi, it has become bypassed, especially with the construction of the FedEx Forum arena just down the road where the NBA's Grizzlies now play, as well as the Memphis Tigers, who were an original tenant. Now the Pyramid sits largely unused, without a shepherd to find a purpose for the abandoned dream palace.

How about in Cheyenne, Wyoming, where at its founding, there were thoughts of it being the metropolis of the Mountain West. However, Denver won out long ago, with stronger shepherds leading it into the promise land. Again, absent strong shepherds to protect its future, carpetbaggers from Denver are slowly creeping into their territory, seeking out cheaper land and lower taxes to the north. As part of this exodus, the National Center for Atmospheric Research, based in Boulder, Colorado, is building a new supercomputer in Cheyenne to be a part of its research network. Instead of seeking to preserve the character of their small city, the caretakers of Cheyenne are choosing to be a part of the herd following into Denver's orbit. For instance, Wyoming State Senator Michael Von Flatern is part of a state legislative initiative looking into constructing a commuter railroad from Wyoming to New Mexico, all in the interest of serving the growing behemoth to the south. As Senator Von Flatern reasons, "Economics is what we are really after. . . . Denver will be a big megalopolis, and if things move forward on the rail line, and Colorado does their party, I would want Wyoming to tie in." Rather than taking the horns, it seems Cheyenne is subject to the whims of other more powerful shepherds.

As can be seen, it takes strong forces to push through anything, be it big or small. On the big side of things, Florida's governor Charlie Crist, the state's Department of Environmental Protection, the South Florida Water Management District, environmentalists and United States Sugar have pushed through the plan for the government to acquire 300 square miles of land that will be converted back to wetland use in order to improve the increasingly deteriorating water quality situation in the area, as well as reverse the heavy development that has overtaken the region in the last few decades. On the small side of things, nobody less than the U.S. Congress and the ACLU (and possibly the U.S. Supreme Court) have jumped into the fray in a seemingly simple matter of a cross constructed decades ago by the VFW on public land in the middle of the Mohave Desert. It all started because of Frank Buono, a retired U.S. Park Service employee, who sued the service over the cross's installation. With the aid of other shepherds, it has become a federal case. Moreover, on the outskirts of Chicago, eight municipalities have struck deals with Canadian National Railway to mitigate the noise and safety concerns generated by the rights-of-way which cross through their burgs. Tired of fighting, the municipal leaders pushed through plans that seek to solve long-standing conflicts with having trains occupy some of their rolling prairies.

Even though such matters receive the attention and care that ultimately pushes them through to fruition, it does not mean that they face hurdles. But it is because of the shepherds that they ultimately do reach the finish line. Take for instance the case of a new national biological defense laboratory, which will be home to the most treacherous diseases on earth. It is located on Galveston Island, Texas, which was, and continues to be, susceptible to hurricanes whipping in from the Gulf of Mexico. "It's crazy, in my mind," says an environmental lawyer in the area. But in the end, the University of Texas, who runs the facility, has better lawyers and public relations professionals, who sold the project to the community in terms of good jobs for the area. On the smaller side of things, in Santa Monica, California, a few irate neighbors took back the highly coveted Fourth Street traffic median where exercisers stretch and grunt their ways into the ire of the people who have to live near it. The residents have forced the City Police to enforce an ancient ordinance prohibiting such nefarious activities. The NIMBY contingent faced the return fire from the healthy types, who blatantly continue to use the space, at least until the tickets at $158 a pop begin to be written. At least for now, the neighbors have won the battle.

The shepherds can come from any corner, at any time. It seems fitting to acknowledge the passing of one such herder, Dorothy Miner, the former counsel to the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission. Deeply involved in the seminal Penn Central case, which set the stage for the Supreme Court's takings jurisprudence over the past three decades, she was a tireless advocate, and innovator, in preserving the historical character of the city, including lower Manhattan's Dutch street configuration. Her techniques spread across the country in an effort to hold onto America's built environment past.

And finally, let us not forget what happened last month. After the euphoria (or depression, depending which side of the fence you sat) of November 4th, the real question for President-Elect Barack Obama is how he intends to lead. Lofty expectations follow him, and his built-in detractors are already lining up to nitpick at his Cabinet selections. Sure, Obama has spoken on various land use-related topics during the course of the endless campaign, but any real impact from the new President in the world of development will no doubt be funneled through the loftier issues of economic stimulus packages and environmental policy. Who will his shepherds be? Well, some answers have been offered, including Representative Ray LaHood, a Republican from Illinois, as the Secretary of Transportation, Lisa Jackson, former New Jersey DEP head, as the new EPA Administrator, Steven Chu, a Nobel-winning physicist, as the Energy Secretary, Nancy Sutley, who was an advisor to Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, the new chair of the White House Council on Environmental Quality, Obama's so-called "climate czar," former EPA chief Carol Browner and Senator Ken Salazar from Colorado as the next Interior Secretary. How will they do? Only time will tell. But either way, they have entered a noble calling, which I continue to labor on along with them, down at ground level.

So, How've You Been?

2008-10-17T10:14:00.000-04:00

Okay, so things are scary out there these days, with no real end in sight. As with everyone, I'm touched by the craziness happening in the kooky place we call "the market." My wife is an AIG employee, and it seems my clients are just as distressed by the economic woes even if they aren't asking for a multi-billion dollar bailout/rescue/golden parachute/handout. But despite it all, it is heartening to know that we can still find the time to squabble over the newest big development to come into town, and on the other side of the ledger, work together to improve our collective built-up environment. Let's start with the heartwarming side of the coin, in Rochester, New York, of all places. The city's Regional Transit Service has actually decided to reduce the price of a fare on its buses, from $1.25 to a buck. How have they done it? By responding to the demands of the marketplace, no less. And a little ingenuity. The agency has reached out to institutions reliant on the system, like the public school district, colleges and businesses, to pay for its riders. The local state representative was able to lobby for more funding. And the leaders of the transit organization adjusted its routes to meet demand, and eliminated routes that people didn't use. Sure, it's a tiny system in comparison to other behemoths like New York City to the south, but the Rochester approach does suggest a way that public transit can work, and actually turn a profit.

How about in such places as Los Angeles, Seattle and Baltimore, where alleys are back. Once destined for suspicious, if not criminal type behavior, alleyways are being reborn as places to stow garages so that homes can have porches again out in front, spaces to help to reduce dirty runoff and locales where greenways return to the urban landscape. Researchers at the University of Southern California are looking at how the poorer neighborhoods of their region can benefit from underused alleys. Over the last few decades, a piecemeal city program attempted to improve things by gating off troubled alleys. Some turned into park-like settings for local residents -- a veritable Gramercy Park in South L.A. -- while others ended up being abandoned wastelands. One caretaker, sixty-nine year old Virginia Beck, patrols her prized alley she planted herself, and keeps a .38-caliber pistol in her bedroom just in case.

How about in the Adirondacks of upstate New York, where a 14,600-acre swath southwest of the Olympic village of Lake Placid has been purchased by the Nature Conservancy to eventually add to the Adirondack Forest Preserve. It will become part of the larger Adirondack Park, which is still a stitched-together expanse that also includes 103 towns and villages. The park is an attempt to restore nature alongside the needs of residents. In another rejection of expanding into the green hinterlands, a report from Canada depicts the continuing trend of people eschewing the suburbs in favor of more urban type living. Trading square footage for shorter commutes and longer time to spend at home, families are moving back to the city, and trying to bring others with them, sending real estate listings back to their suburban friends. And how about across the other border, in Mexico City, where Sundays mean bicicletas, or bicycles, and other non-engine driven modes of transport, which take over numerous roadways in the megacity's historic district. Once a month, Mayor Marcelo Ebrard also unleashes the Cicloton, a 20-mile course for bicyclists to roam free. As many as 70,000 cyclists have been drawn to this urban grand prix course for bike riders. The hope is that people will carry over to using their bikes during the week.

But in this year of the election, people cannot forget to squabble over differences of opinion on how we should live amongst our structures and infrastructure. Not even the Obama/McCain conversation has been immune. For instance, McCain's bubbly running mate, Sarah Palin, had to face a bit of scrutiny over not just her naming of Supreme Court cases, but also the look of her beloved Wasilla, Alaska, which she governed as Mayor before hitting the big time. One commentator took a trip to Wasilla, and found something other than a "quaint mountain village." Instead, he had this to say: "Some towns have character. Some have a sense of place. And then there is Wasilla, which greets visitors with Wal-mart, Target, Lowe's Kentucky Fried Chicken, Carl's Jr., McDonald's and Taco Bell. They paved paradise, and all they've got to show for it is chalupas and discount tube socks." At the end, he compared the planning prowess of Wasilla's representatives to that of Los Angeles. Well, we didn't exactly expect Palin to be a green candidate, with that whole moose meets helicopter thing.

But aside from the election, people have still found time to keep tabs on what developers are trying to do out in the world. For instance, in Dubai, environmentalists have voiced strong objections to a new $1.5 billion hotel built on a man made island shaped like a palm tree. Intended to be a family destination, the Atlantic hotel and resort, like its sister resort in the Bahamas, is part of a targeted plan by Dubai to be a tourist destination once the oil is gone. The Palm Jumeirah island is only one of a handful to be placed in the Persian Gulf. Among other claims, the objections to the project include that the island itself will damage coral reefs and change water currents. In addition, Atlantis, as an ocean-themed resort, will have a huge water tank which will include a full range of creatures, including dolphins that had to be flown in from the Solomon Islands. In India, a larger battle looms over the push to industrialize, against the needs of subsistence farmers to retain their farmland to live. Scarce real estate is being fought over in a process that will result in the path the subcontinent will seek over the course of the coming decades. At the heart of it all is the land.

And then there are the more mundane matters here at home that are much more important for the people most closely affected. For instance, in Obama's old turf of Chicago, his old employer, the University of Chicago, is quietly gobbling up prime tracts around its current boundaries in efforts to acquire more space to grow. Or that is the answer that the university is supplying to the savvy few who have seen past the land trust in whose name the parcels are being bought. It is interesting to note that if Chicago were to earn the rights to host the 2016 Olympics, the U. of C. would be sitting on some expensive land that may be the site of the new Olympic stadium. The school has answered such claims with its long-standing goals of helping to revitalize the surrounding community by spurring development. Either way, the news itself has helped to keep people otherwise occupied. The same is true in San Diego County, California, where over 600 people were slated to speak on a proposed tollway through state park land. The California Coastal Commission has already denied the application. Now it is the U.S. Department of Commerce to weigh in on the proposal. Again it has brought out a huge throng in opposition. And in Dana Point, California, where the 30-year battle over Dana Point Headlands, a oceanfront home development, is finally ending with the project being built, cries from local residents and environmentalists continue. Called "catastrophic" from these foes, the new abodes have required significant grading work on the once pristine shoreline swath. However, city officials see it as a win, as sixty-eight acres of parks and trails were added in the deal. Either way, the end is near to a long battle.

It is hard not to keep an eye on how the stock market is doing today, and an eye on the health of the business entities that impact your own life. But maybe having no end isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's good to know that despite the uncertainty of the future, there is certainty that we have to continue to tend to our neighborhoods, bring new things and opportunities to our areas and do our part to push on and out of these troubling times. My wife and I are doing our part by moving into a new apartment, with more room and a back yard. Things will get better. And we might as well get to it sooner than later.

Buzz in the Air

2008-09-12T09:40:00.000-04:00

While on vacation in the Canadian Rockies, and having a little time to actually catch up on things aside from lipstick and pigs and illegitimate Republicans, I came out of the cocoon of my summer and realized there is a lot going on around the world when it comes to land use. In Canada, I marveled at observing similar land use innovations to those that are happening south of the border on our side of things. For a portion of my trip, I was in Calgary, which isn't exactly a hotbed of excitement. However, seeing light rail trains criss-cross through the city warmed my heart. Strolling through a pedestrian mall in the middle of downtown, I could see the machinery of thought the city fathers and mothers undertook to keep this part of their metropolis vital. Not that the city requires any assistance. It seemed on nearly every corner new projects, both commercial and residential, were reaching towards the sky. A few burgeoning, hipster neighborhoods sprinkled at the downtown fringe also reminded me of home in Brooklyn. And as my wife and I made our trek out of town to the mountains, the suburban edges exposed age-old issues when it comes to addressing the growth needs of a community.

But it wasn't just my travels through Alberta that caught my attention. I actually had a bit of time to read and catch up. The Globe and Mail, a wonderful national newspaper in Canada, ran a story while I was up north about congestion pricing schemes being discussed in the urban areas of Canada. A periodical I picked up at the local health food store called The Earth Island Journal was exploring familiar, but interesting territory when it comes to congestion pricing, as well as the latest from Curitiba, Brazil, where the almost futuristic vision of the city's leaders brought the most comprehensive urban bus system, it seems in the world, to its citizenry in the mid-1960's. Even the Calgary Herald, in running a special edition on the paper's 125th anniversary, couldn't help but explore the issues involved with suburban sprawl on the city's edges, as well as the opportunities in rehabilitating the inner suburbs to support the region's massive growth. This expansion appears to be driven by the largesse dropped in the laps of oil companies, who seem to drive the area's economy.

Back in the States, I discovered a fabulous series that has been running in the Chicago Tribune on the inner workings of the land use process in the Second City. Sure, a lot of the focus is on muckraking, and finding the inherent conflicts, as well as outright graft, going on in the various nooks of the city. But such a window into a seemingly foreign world, when you don't practice there on a day-to-day basis, can be extremely illuminating. And in these highly political times, isn't it intriguing that the words green and Arnold Schwarzenegger can be used in the same sentence? In California, the Governator will most likely receive a bill working its way through the legislature that would bring state comprehensive planning to the land of sprawl. According to one account, the plan will integrate regional planning, transportation fund allocation and affordable housing needs into land use decision making. Whether Ah-nold will be signing the measure is unclear. Either way, it's a huge step that may become another step in the direction towards sound land use policy in a place where the land use culture has often devolved into pure wild west show.

The flurry of activity doesn't end there. As they say, wait -- there's more! On the foreclosure front, some municipalities such as Boston, Minneapolis and San Diego are getting into the flipping business. These regions are buying, with help from private investors, foreclosed homes, refurbishing them, and selling them off in an effort to hold onto communities devastated by the disaster that doesn't seem to want to go away anytime soon. In less grim news, and harkening back to my walks through Calgary, it seems streetcars are making a comeback. After the auto industry pushed the streetcar out of existence in the 1940's and 1950's, leading to tracks being ripped up in favor of smoother urban streets for cars, the pendulum has swung back. Places like Cincinnati are jumping on the bandwagon led by other locales like Denver, Houston, Salt Lake City and Charlotte. People see the results in such towns as Portland, Oregon, and realize that public transportation isn't necessarily a dirty word. Of course, the usual critics out there point to the fact that such plans are essentially publicly-funded subsidies for the downtown core. This analysis carefully dodges the speeding streetcar carrying the obvious retort -- that's the point. Streetcar systems are part of strategies from public policymakers seeking to reinvest in central cities, reversing the subsidies funneled to the urban fringe that produced the current land use, energy and environmental predicament we find ourselves.

How about the stories that seem to be on the edge of the land use radar, but certainly fall under the umbrella of trends to follow. Take for example in Los Angeles, where the City Council has decided to use typical land use mechanisms to respond to a clear issue affecting many poorer neighborhoods around the country. The proposed measure would impose a moratorium on all fast food restaurants in South Central Los Angeles, one of the less affluent areas within the metropolis. Of course, the restaurant lobby is up in arms, as well as observers who believe that the government is going too far to help regulate healthier lifestyles. But the entire zoning framework is used to delineate where certain uses should be placed. This appears to be another such example. In addition, it has been a chronic issue that poorer neighborhoods are woefully underrepresented when it comes to purveyors of healthier food options, and even a seemingly axiomatic supermarket. In any event, it is a different way to use the power to zone to accomplish public policy goals.

And, from the annals of the more things change . . . it's certainly nice to see that things stay rosy in certain necks of the woods, even when things seem so gloomy in general. Take my hometown of Brooklyn, where the big box (in more ways than one) furniture retailer Ikea has moved to once dormant Red Hook, the naysayers have actually embraced the typically controversial type of development. It sure helps when Ikea offers water taxi and shuttle bus service from other parts of the city, and installs a pretty waterfront esplanade. Linked up with its affordable yet stylish furnishing options, and cheap hot dogs at its cafe, Ikea has brought a winning combination to Brooklyn. Out in the desert in Arizona, more good vibes are coming from Kingman, which is benefiting from the overflow from bloated Las Vegas. Not just the home to the closest Cracker Barrel restaurant to Los Angeles, new housing developments may bring upwards of 80,000 new homes to the now-quiet burg by 2040. With a new bridge over the Colorado into Nevada, that means more opportunity and access to the giant to the north. Of course just because it's slightly to the south doesn't mean there's necessarily more water (which the developers' hydrologists believe there is). But who needs to sweat details when the future looks bright? And down in the Everglades, plans continue to be pursued to preserve the fast-disappearing ecosystem. Florida has agreed to purchase 187,000 acres from United States Sugar to help recreate the historic flow of water from Lake Okeechobee down through the Everglades. Of course, the plan is a little more complicated than this, in that the purchased property would be used in a later swap with another sugar company, Florida Crystals, for the land the state really needs to carry out its vision. Either way, it is part of a continuing push to return an important region in the state's past to an integral part of its future. And this is really what land use is about -- how to adjust and project for the future. That's what keeps the buzz ongoing, no matter what time of year it may be.

A Modest Proposal

2008-08-12T19:34:00.001-04:00

The dog days of summer are upon us, and in this month when many boards decide to forego meeting, or at the very least, scale back their hearings, it seems like a fitting time to step back from the day-to-day routine, and take a long view of the state of affairs. Recently, I've been running into situations where the matters to which I'm tending remind me that when I was practicing back in New Jersey, the procedure of obtaining land use approvals seemed to make more sense than they do over here in the Empire State. Sure, it's not like things are that much greener on the other side of the Hudson River (even though New Jersey is the Garden State), but in New Jersey there is much more uniformity across jurisdictions thanks to a statewide Municipal Land Use Law. I look at the current way of doing business in New York, where the way things are done vary widely from Town to Town, Village to Village, and I wonder if things could be done a little more consistently.

One of the hallmarks of the federal system the United States lives under is that from state to state, and even municipality to municipality, everyone can experiment with different approaches and ways of getting things done. However, here in New York, it sometimes baffles me why you just have to know "how things are done" in each municipality to have any intelligent method to proceed with applications. For instance, one particular Town on Long Island requires everything to route through its Planning Department. From there, if necessary (for variance or special permit relief, for instance), matters are referred to the Town's Board of Zoning Appeals, with a quick stop over in the Building Department for a denial of a building permit application. It sometimes is the case that variances must be reviewed by the Town Board, instead of the Board of Zoning Appeals, depending on the Town's discretion. If you earn an approval from the Board of Zoning Appeals and/or Town Board, the matter gets sent back to the Planning Department for final review, and perhaps, an appearance before the Planning Board. After you sort out any other administrative approvals, like Fire Safety Division sign-off, then you may return to the Building Department for your building permit to complete the process.

Contrast this with another large Town in Long Island, which first requires a building permit denial, followed by an appearance before the Board of Appeals (not Board of Zoning Appeals, or even Zoning Board of Appeals) if special permit or variance relief is required, a return trip to the Building Department to go through a multi-month process to obtain site plan approval (amounting to sign-offs from a number of Town and County departments), and then finally, building permit approval from the same Building Department, which runs the show (as opposed to the Planning Department in the other unnamed Town). When you start talking about the Villages, then the procedures vary even wider from one another.

If you're still with me, or even if you're not, I think it's clear that things just get plain muddy in these parts. Is it so difficult to maybe come to some agreement as to a general method that must be followed? As another example, I am involved in a matter where not even the Town officials can decide, without research conducted by the Town Attorney, which procedure, and which boards, will be applicable. Isn't there a better way? Referring back to my days in New Jersey, I compare things between the two states, and I see certain choices from which New York could benefit. I must admit, I am not as well versed on the procedures which govern things across the other states, but it seems that these sorts of issues come up from time to time wherever you are. So in response to my recent musings, I offer the following top ten list of procedural improvements from which we in New York (and no doubt elsewhere) could benefit. So here it goes:

10. Hire an attorney for each board, and have that attorney at every hearing.

This seems obvious, but, especially in smaller villages, it is not always the case that an attorney representing the board's interest will be in attendance at hearings. This leaves boards, particularly inexperienced ones, unable to conduct their hearings without this vital resource.

9. Have the professionals attend every board hearing.

The same would seem to apply to board engineers and planners, along with any other professionals who assist boards.

8. Create a system of ancillary jurisdiction to prevent “board hopping”.

This would be a wonderful thing to avoid situations as described above, where the list of boards and stops at various departments seem to never end.

7. Make boards vote in public at meetings.

This is an unusual characteristic I've noticed with many boards in New York. After concluding a hearing, a board will advise an applicant that they will essentially get the decision "in the mail." Shouldn't this most important part of any hearing be conducted at the hearing?

6. Require more specific resolutions of approval.

Some boards don't see fit to draft formal resolutions specific to each application. In an effort to create more complete municipal records, and as a way to protect boards in the case of any potential challenges to their decisions, it would seem like boards would find this procedural piece quite important.

5. Reduce the power of civic associations. Obviously you cannot limit their
right to participate, but boards should not allow these organizations to hold
applications hostage.

The public should always have a right to be heard. However, should civic associations be making decisions for boards? Sometimes, unfortunately, this appears to occur. The applicant has the right to be heard as well, in a timely fashion. Any attempts by civic associations to stall the process should not be tolerated. A hearing is for the benefit of all sides to voice their positions. By allowing civic associations to effectively "kill" applications before the applicant has the chance to present his/her case effectively defeats the whole purpose of discussing land use decisions in a public forum.

4. Require the Mayor and a municipal legislator to sit on the planning board.

This suggestion would seem to keep elected officials deeply involved in the land use process, and ensure that the general performance of a board can be a part of the political process come election day.

3. Draft better ordinances.

This one is a constant theme, no matter which side of the Hudson River you find yourself, as quality drafting must be present for municipalities to have strong bases upon which to base their land use decisions.

2. Incorporate stronger planning principles into municipal codes.

Planning seems to get lost in certain municipalities. I'm talking long-term review of goals of a municipality, taking into account all of the available planning concepts and applying them to the needs of the area. So often it seems the minutiae of applications gets in the way of the big picture, and the benefits an application can bring to a site and surroundings in need of redevelopment are too easily forgotten. It's unfortunate that these considerations often get lost in the specifics of a matter.

And, of course:

1. Require uniformity from Town to Town, Village to Village.

Just some simple thoughts to think about, as we struggle with better ways to do things. It doesn't seem like much to at least consider, particularly as we find ourselves navigating through processes that, at times, seem endless and arbitrary. The land use process should be about openness, clarity, consistency and expediency. It would seem that that is not too much to ask of the machinery we have in place to abide by these simple rules.

I'm In Control Here

2008-07-03T10:51:00.002-04:00

Back in 1981, when President Reagan was getting patched up after John Hinckley's assassination attempt, Secretary of State Alexander Haig stepped to the presidential podium, and declared to the world, "I'm in control here," despite the fact there were a few other people in front of him for the head honcho seat. Unlike the matter of presidential succession, the world of land use doesn't always have a directive such as the U.S. Constitution to guide the process. Varying actors assume control of the proceedings at any given time. In this week where talk of democracy gets sprinkled in amongst the fireworks and cookouts, it seems fitting to ask who really is at the wheel of the land use world.

Recent fights across the globe indicate that in many cases, the answer depends on who wins the battle. For instance, in the southwest province of Murcia, Spain, water is becoming scarce. Sure, climate change is causing the slow desertification of the landscape. However, disastrous policies of encouraging water-thirsty resort communities with swimming pools and golf courses, along with farming practices which have shifted to more water-intensive crops in the region, have contributed to the problem. As a result, developers and residents are pitted against the farmers, in a battle over an increasingly disappearing resource. In the middle are the water managers, like one in Fortuna who laments, "I come under a lot of pressure to release water, from farmers and also from developers. They can complain as much as they want, but if there's no more water, there's no more water." Time will tell who controls the H2O in southern Spain.

Other battles over control have popped up in places like Chicago, where an unwritten "aldermanic prerogative" rule has been challenged in the case of a proposed children's museum. Typically, the local city council member, or alderman, must rubber stamp a development proposal in his or her ward for the project to move forward to the Council's Zoning Committee. In the museum's case, Mayor Richard Daley overrode the local alderman's objection, and pushed the project through. Predictably, the courts will ultimately decide who's in control. Another challenge to recognized authority recently flared up on the east end of Long Island, where State Senator Kenneth P. LaValle tried to wrestle development approval authority over a 3,000 acre plot formerly occupied by the defense contractor Grumman from the Town of Riverhead. The Town for now retains control over state environmental review powers, which otherwise would have ceded to the regional Pine Barrens Commission under LaValle's plan. No doubt this fight will continue. And in Juneau, Alaska, plans are being finalized to build the first road that would allow the rest of North America to access the state capital by land. Environmentalists and many city residents oppose the plan, and are also using the courts to be the ultimate arbiter of whether Juneau becomes open to us outsiders.

When things do get decided, who ultimately has the control sometimes ends up in the hands of unseen forces, like the all-powerful market. For instance, the spike in fuel costs has prompted an upswing in people traveling by public transportation. People are questioning life out on the urban fringes in an effort to save costs, with some news accounts asking whether we are observing the "unfolding demise of suburbia," and other accounts claiming that those left on the edges may be caught in a "nightmare." Foreclosures have devastated whole towns, including such California central valley burgs as Merced, where one real estate agent explains, "We're experiencing a tsunami of bank-owned properties." In Chicago, the Spire, the tallest residential structure in the world, is moving forward with market support. According to a recent report, and in response to naysayers, the developer of the 2,000 foot tall structure, scheduled to be completed in 2012, has said that it has already sold 30% of its proposed units in four months time. In Los Angeles, aided by the adoption of a city ordinance permitting them, small lot projects, where multiple tiny, single family homes are built on single lots, with easement agreements taking care of the common areas, are proliferating. With a little bit of a push, the market appears to have taken care of the rest. In the neighboring city of Inglewood, developers are deciding to breath life into the municipality's moribund downtown with new retail and mixed-use projects being proposed. As one of the developers says, "It's not something that's done overnight, but we certainly feel we are a catalyst." And let's not forget the value of the vote, a most democratic affair, where California voters approved an anti-Kelo hammer against eminent domain of owner-occupied residences for private projects. Let the people rule, these examples suggest.

But then again, the iron fist from above often asserts its power. Take for instance the case of the Golden State of California, where its water shortage has prompted a firm response from water authorities and other governmental entities who are beginning to deny development applications because the state's water capacity simply cannot support the new proposals. These authorities are invoking a state law that requires a 20-year supply of water to be present for the development to take place. As one developer has noted, "I think this is a warning for everyone." Not even movie stars are immune from the iron fist of government. Robert DeNiro, actor and real estate developer, faced criticism recently for a top-floor penthouse he tried to tack on to a new hotel in an historic district. The New York City Landmarks Commission will rule on the matter shortly. DeNiro only offered, "You know, it's a process."

Although, governmental power sometimes breeds malcontent amongst the populace. On the other side of the globe, in Dakar, Senegal, questions have been raised where massive development is taking place in the city's core with the aid of investors from Dubai. Amidst the seeming riches, the lower classes have been shut out of the benefits, even though the government has allocated significant resources to these ventures. The government, led by President Abdoulaye Wade, has brought the appearance of prosperity to the metropolis, but not necessarily the reality. Although he guided the construction boom with the hand of government behind him, it may ultimately be used against him as he seeks to groom his son to fill his seat. As one disgruntled street merchant notes, "We can't eat roads. We can't afford to sleep in five-star hotels. So for whom is all this? Not for the ordinary Senegalese man."

In another wrinkle to the "iron fist", governments often come into conflict with each other, particularly when there's a chance to point blame away from themselves. For instance, U.S. Mayors recently appeared before Congress to beg for help to upgrade strained infrastructure systems, from roads to water systems. That day the Senate committee offered a bill that would create a National Infrastructure Bank to allow for the issuance of $60 billion in bonds. Even the national government may not be able to handle the $1.6 trillion task ahead of the country to achieve a "properly functional level" for its transportation and other critical lifelines. But the problem has fallen on the national government from the localities below. In this case, no one really wants to take the reins of control.

I suppose the reason that this issue came to the forefront for me was that I recently served on a jury. Although I was just an alternate, I sat through the whole trial. During it, the judge continually reminded us that we were the ultimate arbiters of fact in the case, which is true. As I mention in my explanation for this forum, the land use process is in many ways the most democratic of activities, as everyone can participate. In that blurb, I reference one's participation on a jury. After my experiences in sitting in that box judging a fellow citizen's actions, nothing has changed my thoughts on land use. The sheer messiness of the process, just like a trial, makes everyone's opinion count. However, where the two worlds differ is that in the case of a courtroom, everyone's looking to the jury for an answer. In a room holding a land use discussion, sometimes it's not clear who in fact is in control.

Shrinkage

2008-06-02T17:50:00.000-04:00

In these times where those infernal oil companies are siphoning off our incomes, and the creeping dread of the "r" word, it seems everything has a theme of contraction wherever one turns. Whatever it is I think I see, becomes a Tootsie Roll pop that gets smaller and smaller by each lick of the wise old owl. Putting that mixing of advertising jingles aside, it does seem things keep getting smaller, literally. For instance, the geographer for the New York City Department of City Planning has revealed the staggering news that the mighty metropolis is actually 17 square miles smaller than what was widely believed. Instead of a robust 322 square miles, the city limits only include a paltry 304.8 square miles. Of course, my home borough of Brooklyn took the brunt of the shrinkage, accounting for 10 of the 17-square-mile loss. The geographer, Michael S. Miller, claims the loss is only based on more exact measurements performed since the last time an assessment was made. However, maybe it is simply a sign of the times, with geography falling into line with this age of shrinkage.

Another story from the annuls of land use further support the view that things keep getting smaller -- like the number of homeowners that can hold onto their castles these days. According to one report, three percent of once-occupied homes now stand vacant across the country. The horrendous foreclosure meltdown has resulted in a huge stock of abandoned homes that cannot be filled, which has been chronicled in this blog previously. As a way to combat this problem, mortgage companies are hiring contractors to look after these structures to ensure that the companies' investments do not fall into disrepair, or worse, suffer from vandalism. For instance, in Jacksonville, Florida, these contractors have benefited from the misery of others, billing mortgage companies as much as $5,000 every two weeks to perform their duties. When one side shrinks, the other grows larger.

Another arena facing the prospect of shrinkage is the stock of structures that have been deemed "historic" by some, but just plain old by others. The National Trust for Historic Preservation, a watchdog group for such concerns, has released its annual list of most endangered historic places. Intended to raise the awareness for these sites before they are lost forever, the organization tries its best to prevent another slice of the built environment from shrinking into oblivion. Included among this year's list is the Statler Hilton Hotel in Dallas, Texas, the first glass and steel hotel built in America. Also cited is the Lower East Side of New York City, which is slowly succumbing to the massive gentrification that continues to engulf the tenements of early 20th century immigrant experience. In addition, the Sumner School of Topeka, Kansas, made the cut, which was the genesis for the groundbreaking Brown v. Board of Education case that rejected the era of "separate but equal". Sure, some old buildings have to go. But maybe some are worth saving.

Even Wal-Mart has shrunk away from its grand expansion plans that seem to go on unabated. On the South Side of Chicago, the retail juggernaut has decided to retreat from its attempts to locate its second store within the city's limits. Facing city opposition in light of mighty Mayor Daley's mistake in vetoing a big box ordinance that attempted to impose minimum wage requirements on such stores in 2006, Wal-Mart decided to retreat to the suburbs, and focus their attention on the fringes. Mayor Daley is also in the midst of trying to bring the 2016 Olympics to his city, and does not want to again raise the ire of the union interests who opposed him on the prior fight. Although Wal-Mart has not succeeded in cracking Northern urban markets, we shouldn't cry too much for them. Aside from the Plan B approach in Chicago, in a one step back means two steps forward approach, Wal-Mart is setting its sights abroad, where such nations as Brazil are welcoming the retailer with open arms.

And along with shrinkage, the steadiness of certain land use stalwarts has felt the wobbly uncertainty of the times. Portland, Oregon, a place I've glowed about in previous entries, is facing a challenge to its progressive outlook on the way people live amongst each other and how the city chooses to grow. The ugly word of gentrification has led to an open debate on whether the needs of those in need are adequately being met by the green-leaning vision of the community. In a metropolitan area that is only 7 percent African-American, the city is using its Office of Neighborhood Involvement to conduct the Restorative Listening Project, a plan to listen to the concerns of minority residents in communities that are being overrun by white people. As one Native American participant notes, "That's been our history. . . . They take all you've got. They take your land. Now they want your stories." The shrinking world around the long-term residents has bred resentment, particularly where their shifting neighborhood will never be what it once was. More complex still is the fact that things have improved for the better in the community, but arguably not for those who were subjected to the bad times.

In this era of shrinkage, there is still the push to grow. As first referenced in "Clean Slate," my March 22, 2007, entry in this space, a deal has been struck between environmental groups and the developer of the massive Tejon Ranch tract north of Los Angeles. In exchange for a massive development project to encompass 30,000 acres, the owner of the tract has agreed to set aside 240,000 acres to continue as a wilderness area free from disturbance. In a way, it is a plan for growth agreeable to this era of shrinkage. Ninety percent of the parcel will be conserved. In some ways, maybe shrinkage isn't all that bad.

Are They Nuts?

2008-05-08T18:02:00.000-04:00

As a former West Coaster, I like to look in that direction every so often to catch up on the happenings in my former stomping grounds. Aside from the dismal results from this network television season that is coming to a close, there is some other signs of change that have the potential to rock the Los Angeles Basin to its core with greater force than an 8.0 earthquake. The thing that jostled my own equilibrium was a recent plan advocated by Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa that sought to convert two of the city's massive Westside east-west boulevards, Olympic and Pico, to one-way thoroughfares stretching from downtown to the beaches of Santa Monica. A Superior Court judge has temporarily stalled the scheme designed to alleviate traffic congestion in the hopelessly clogged area, forcing the city to perform an impact study before moving forward with the plan. The thought can be characterized as either revolutionary or just plain nutty. Either way, it seems to ignore the elephant on the roadways that costs in the neighborhood of $4 per gallon, and rising.

Another off-kilter story from the leftist coast comes from a hotbed of conservatism that Richard Nixon could have loved, and did. In the Orange County community of San Clemente, which is halfway between LA and San Diego, grassroots political activism fueled by NIMBYist tendencies have brought to life the denizens of the place that the disgraced president once called home. A growing contingent of residents in this built-out 'burb have been standing up to recent attempts to squeeze a bit more value into the limited space left to develop. One plan would have brought a new residential subdivision to 9 holes of the Pacific Golf and Country Club, who would have still had 18 left after the construction. However, buttressed by the ability to send the matter to voters that the "activists" won by having a City ordinance adopted declaring it so, the plan failed public muster. The biggest fallout came at the golf club, where ten members who were opposed to the plan were summarily expelled. Is it a democratic groundswell, or a movement by a few, strong voices? Either way, in this neck of the land, it appears that developers have met their match in their golfing buddies. To call the protesters "activists" puts an interesting spin on things, just as the recent "protesters" who occupied Honolulu's Iolani Palace did, seeking to highlight the group's desire to restore the monarchic ways of the government that once ruled the islands. At least they have an elected leader.

Nonetheless, just down the road from San Clemente, in Irvine, a swath of 40,000 acres surrounded by the sprawl of Orange County has recently been designated as the first California Natural Landmark, a ceremonial title that state officials, including Governor Schwarzenegger, hope will lead to stronger protections for the tract. Perhaps the folks over in San Clemente may see a cause more worthy than the preservation of nine precious holes of golf. Other less fortunate areas are contending with far worse fallout from the lack of open space. Back up in LA, the City Board of Education approved a plan to construct a new elementary school campus, in particularly its fields, on a site contaminated with toxic substances, and already next to a middle school too small for the numbers of students it teaches. "This is by no means an easy decision. . . We have looked for every piece of land, and in this mid-Wilshire area . . . density is a challenge," voiced the Board's president. Are they nuts, or just plain desperate?

Admittedly, there are some other strange proposals happening around the country that begs for a question in the neighborhood of: How crazy are our elected officials? Take for example the happenings in South Florida, where plans are afoot to construct a massive reservoir the size of Manhattan Island to save the natural water flow in the beloved Everglades region. Part of a larger plan to both re-supply the historic flow of water to the wetland region, and provide a flood protection measure for the development that has taken the place of most of the swamp that once covered South Florida, the reservoir is designed to preserve, as best is still possible, the gloriousness of the area before it is lost forever. Will it work? Time will tell.

On the other end of the spectrum, leave it to fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada, where instead of seeking to redevelop its decaying downtown area, has instead decided to acquire a 60-acre tract next door, and build a new one. The ironically-named Union Park area will be developed with a number of Las Vegas style projects, including a Frank Gehry designed Alzheimer's research facility, a performing arts center, and associated casino and residential development. Sure, it took five years to acquire the property, and the economic problems of today may slow things down, but eventually, as everything in Las Vegas seems, it appears inevitable that the ambitious plan spearheaded by Mayor Oscar Goodman will come to be. Not even robust and bloated LA is immune to the economic vagaries of the times, and its mammoth Grand Avenue project has hit a rough patch in obtaining the necessary funding.

On a different scale, in Camden, New Jersey, more modest goals prevail, in that the city's planning board is reviewing an application for a new Hilton Garden Inn, that may signal a turn in fortunes for the long-beleaguered city across the Delaware River from Philadelphia. A new hotel has not been built in the city for about seventy years. Although there are recently-added attractions including an aquarium and a minor league baseball stadium, Camden still faces the problems of attracting attention, and money, that it has confronted for decades. Its proximity to its larger neighbor in Pennsylvania may be Camden's best asset, as it may be able to cater to the overflow in people and tourists that flock to the City of Brotherly Love. For the moment, the prospects remain guarded, and less fabulous, than Vegas.

And with all this nuttiness going on, who can forget the constant thoughts in all our minds (except for those fortunate enough not to ever require a car), the daily reminders of how much driving actually costs - not just the gas our vehicles suck dry. Based partly on New York City's failure to adopt congestion pricing, Los Angeles has been offered $213 million to create its own version of congestion pricing to help alleviate its clogged "freeways." In Chicago, which may also receive a portion of New York's lost booty, is also proposing installing bus-only lanes on its major highways into the central city for express lines, and increasing the costs of parking meters downtown. Is Mayor Daley concerned what the effects may be on commuters who drive? "No, no, no." Okay. Back in New York, the city has refocused on its biking commuters, proposing massive improvements to bicycle lanes, racks and helmet programs. One percent of commuters in the city do so via the two-wheeled method. That number is expected to grow as the price at the pump continues to climb.

In the end, looking at the state of things, there are a lot of plans out there that seem kind of nuts -- and not just those in the greater Los Angeles area. But these are nutty times, and only increasing in nuttiness by the day. At the bottom of it all, at least we are still trying to make things better, and adapt to the increasingly evolving world we live in. When we stop trying, that's when we should be really concerned.

I Need To See It

2008-04-23T09:52:00.001-04:00

First off, yes, it's been quiet from this end of the blogosphere lately, but honestly, I've been looking around and seeing things come to fruition that we've already covered. Lately I've been thinking a bit about the act of seeing, and how it's such a big part of what land use is all about. Watching the Pope, or B-16 as he's affectionately called in certain circles, it's clear how much it means to show up in person, giving the audience something to study up close and personal, and gives the stamp of legitimacy, removing the specter of the unknown. Glowing tributes to the man filled the airwaves, as we Americans have finally gotten a gander at the "new guy." In the realm of land use, as with most things, people are going to be quite suspicious of new things until they see precisely what is being proposed. Pretty color renderings, and even fancy computer-driven three-dimensional worlds are employed during land use hearings to attempt to replicate precisely what everyone can expect once something is built. But nothing can replace seeing the reality of things.

Take for instance the drastic actions happening in Youngstown, Ohio, which has been suffering the almost cliched path of urban decay over the course of the last four decades. Now facing the foreclosure crisis, the city is left with trying to improve what its remaining residents have to see everyday. Instead of staring at decaying buildings on near-abandoned blocks, Youngstown officials have decided to raze these areas and replace the broken areas with wide open green spaces. Affectionately called "shrinkage," harkening back to one of those famous "Seinfeld" situations, the plan is to contract, attempting to hold onto the portion of Youngstown that is still alive. Will it work? Well, why not try. It sure beats prior plans to bring in growth, like a proposed blimp factory, or a defense facility promised by then-President Clinton. Only time will tell whether Youngstown will see success.

A recent evaluation of New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg proclaimed that despite his failure to bring congestion pricing to the Big Apple, which proceeds ahead with the pace of a double-decker bus barreling through Piccadilly Circus in London, he has reshaped the look of the city through 76 crafty rezoning initiatives throughout the city, including one that runs down the 4th Avenue corridor outside by Brooklyn door. As one NYU professor chronicles, noting how Bloomberg's plan has brought taxpaying types to once-decrepit areas, "Places like Red Hook that were once a no-man's land are hipster havens, and Brooklyn is now a center for culture and art for the whole country. . . . Whoever thought people would want to live on the Gowanus [Expressway, or is it Canal?]". Whichever one it is, putting aside the grand redevelopment projects to produce enormous towers in Manhattan, the rest of the city has benefited from a little TLC from the Mayor, which everyone can see.

And then, from the big picture there are also the smaller picture tidbits that depict the importance of seeing when it comes to the built environment. A critical component in any homeowner's seeing is an unobstructed view of the sun, in some fashion, from his or her residence. In aptly named Sunnyvale, California, a battle raged in connection with a state law that permits homeowners to require neighbors to cut down trees that block their solar panels, regardless of when the trees were planted. In Sunnyvale, a recent court action highlights the conflict that can result from this law, particularly where the combatants don't particularly care for one another. The accused owners of a few redwoods were convicted in criminal court, and required to prune the offending trees. And with that, the victor in the battle was able to see again.

No matter big or small is absent from this art of seeing. When you think about it, most land use regulations are subject to this standard, even if veiled in such objective measures as setbacks, height restrictions and lot coverage dictates. It all comes down to how it looks. No matter what the new thing may be, beware of the eyes that are watching you, every step of the way.

It's The End of the World . . . Again

2008-03-28T18:11:00.000-04:00

With word that plans have been scrapped to construct a new Madison Square Garden, threatening the grand vision to bring the old Penn Station back to life in midtown Manhattan, it seems glum times continue to abound across New York City. All of the flashy projects meant to put a new glossy finish on the metropolis have run into road blocks on their long paths to fruition. In my neck of the woods over in Brooklyn, the Atlantic Yards project will be slowed a bit in the wake of touch economic times. Bret Ratner, the impresario behind it all, still plans to bring his New Jersey Nets to a new 18,000 seat arena which will be started by the end of the year. However, "Miss Brooklyn," the commercial centerpiece, and three residential towers have been put on hold until the market recovers from the current climate. Stop everything, because a large-scale real estate project may take longer than anticipated! One commentator has gone so far as to fret over how master architect Frank Gehry's grand vision will be ruined by the setback, and the quandary Mr. Gehry finds himself in deciding whether to walk away from the project.

Even on the heels of an announcement that initial plans have been brokered to proceed with an immense project to add a mix of commercial and residential towers over the rail yards at the western end of midtown Manhattan, the doomsday predictions prevail. Where will the financing come from? How can the developer, Tishman Speyer Properties, hope to get it done? "We face significant short-term economic challenges. . . . But this country and this city are extremely resilient," noted Rob Speyer, the head of the development outfit. Even Mr. Ratner can see the bigger picture. "Good things sometimes take a long time." People often have a hard time grasping development that occurs over the course of decades, which often leads to many of the planning issues America faces -- after the fact. But it is shocking how the public discourse often can't see beyond the short term issues flooding the headlines.

Even the bigwigs at the top of the area's transportation framework appear to have been shouldered with concerns over short-term decisions to wait out the current quagmire. More likely, they are seizing on the opportunity to use it as an excuse. Not too surprisingly, the Metropolitan Transportation Authority, or the MTA, decided recently to forego $30 million in planned service improvements due to worsening finances, even though it has been buoyed by recent toll and fare increases. Three weeks earlier, the MTA had made the promises for the improvements. With a track record of pulling these sorts of shenanigans, it seems the MTA is simply trying to bury their own inefficiencies in the economic difficulties of others. With a sigh, the leader of the public transit advocacy group in the city lamented, "They obviously couldn't deliver on the promises they made at the time the fare went up, and that's unfortunate, and it will make people very skeptical about future announcements."

Like the transit advocate, I just can't get too excited that things have grown more difficult to get things done. In the land use arena, it seems like nothing is ever easy, no matter how big or small the project may be. Therefore, when there is talk that the whole world is crumbling around us, I usually can shoulder the news quite well. Take John H. Mollenkopf, a professor at the City University Graduate Center. "None of this is new, he said. Battery Park City took forever to come into being. So did the revitalization of Times Square. There are phases to development in New York, Professor Mollenkopf said." All said very well. My new hero. So let's all relax, keep working on what we can, and hope things will turn around sooner than later, because they will. It's just a matter of when. Recently, the process began to designate 1 Chase Manhattan Plaza, a skyscraper in lower Manhattan, as a local landmark. That took time, too. It got built, and is happily occupied. The world will end at some point, but not over the length of time it takes to get something built.

Under the Radar

2008-03-14T11:19:00.001-04:00

With all this talk of Kristen and Client #9, it's tough for much else to creep into the public consciousness. But beneath it all, the mammoth machinery of land use continues to chug on, under the radar. Even an act of "terrorism" fell to the side in the face of the alliterative Spitzer sex scandal. Outside Seattle a new luxury residential subdivision went up in flames, and suspicions arose that the ecoterrorist organization, the ELF, or Earth Liberation Front, was responsible. Although last year ten of the group's participants were convicted on similar acts that have occurred in other parts of the country, it appears they're back. The sign left to mark the crime not only had the acronmyn of the group, but also read "Built green? Nope black!," and called the $2 million homes McMansions. Sure, the houses probably are monstrosities, even though the developer's website claims the project is "the most popular and highest attended single site luxury home and garden tour in the U.S.", whatever this may actually mean. But shouldn't these green-minded types direct their anger at the public officials who permitted the development in the first place? In the end, have their goals really been met if not too many people heard about it?

How about what's going on in Los Angeles, which isn't much, on account of Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa's stalled efforts to bring the southern California behemoth into the class of other world cities, that one writer has argued, now rule the world. Whether this contention is true or not is a debate for another day, but for now the ironic truth is that the Mayor's plans have also fallen to the side because of his own little sexcapade. Villaraigosa's affair with a news reporter badly damaged his ability to do much of anything to bring Los Angeles closer to that corner towards a mass transit-oriented universe. Just as Spitzer's tryst forced everything to deeper in the paper, Villaraigosa's descent into decadence sent land use and public transit to the deaf ears of those he needs to make things happen. The surest sign of the decline is that one of the Mayor's pet projects, the revitalization of downtown, has fallen on hard times according to a recent report. This is not to say the groundwork laid will not prove fruitful down the road. But for now, the growth and change will occur in the background.

And from the annals of the good and bad of what goes on without most people knowing, let's start with the bad. A report recently came out in connection with the massive cleanup and development project ongoing in the New Jersey Meadowlands, grassy marshlands just west of Manhattan, and home to the old and new stadium for the New York NFL teams, as well as the soon-to-be old home of the New Jersey Nets. The analysis, issued by the state inspector general, uncovered the underhanded deals that were made in order to allow the original developer, Encap Golf Holdings, LLC, to bypass environmental regulations in its effort to throw up buildings and start earning income on the property. In another story of graft and corruption that seems inevitable when it comes to high-stakes land development, word was met with interest, but the question, as always, was how it happened when so many were supposed to keep watch over the project.

On the good side of the ledger, how about Bill, Wyoming, where a deal was struck between the Union Pacific Railroad and Lodging Enterprises, a hotel outfit, to bring a brand new facility to the "town," which boasts a population you can count on your fingers. The railroad needed an upgraded weigh station for its employees, who pass through this tiny speck of development in this coal mining section of the continent, and must stop for mandatory rest breaks here. Out of nowhere, upon the plains, rose the new 112-room hotel, not to mention a new 24-hour diner, back in December. This is an event hard to miss in those parts. But for the rest of us, it slipped under the radar, as we chose to focus on other things, like obsessing over Kristen's MySpace page, bringing her out of obscurity, and probably not too long from now, ushering her onto the stage for her chance at musical stardom. In the meantime, the landscape will continue to change, unbeknownst to most.

Are You Really Surprised?

2008-02-26T19:55:00.000-05:00

I have to admit, in my jaded state, not much shocks me these days. No, I'm not made of stone, but I think I'm built so that if jarring news does come my way, it's almost as if I have calculated the possibility of such events occurring, and stowed it away for the potential eventuality that they may come to pass. Of course, being in this unfortunate state I also get annoyed when people don't see certain things coming -- almost as a way to convince myself that I knew it all the time. Take for instance the recent unfortunate case of Congressman Rick Renzi, a Republican from Arizona, who has been indicted for a crooked land deal involving a parcel in Kingman, a delightful place not too far from the Grand Canyon that happens to have the nearest Cracker Barrel to Los Angeles. Apparently the fulcrum for the scheme was Renzi's support for land-exchange legislation making its way through the House. To top it off, Renzi has also allegedly embezzled funds from his family-owned insurance company. In a story with an age-old plot, are we really surprised that another questionable land deal has been committed by a public official?

In another case of "Are You Really Surprised?", land located near the famous Hollywood sign, and once owned by Howard Hughes, who planned to build a hideaway for his then-babe Ginger Rogers, is on the market. Prime lots for residential construction are located on the ridge to the west of the sign, and are available for the taking. One city councilman is seeking to preserve the pristine parcel. "That mountain should not be cluttered. . . . It's good for the psyche of Los Angeles." But considering the sign was originally constructed to tout a nearby housing development, is it really shocking that it may be slightly upstaged by the use it was intended to promote? The whole thing drips with irony -- and, inevitability.

How about the recent news that Long Island Rail Road ridership has reached a high not seen in nearly sixty years. Eighty nine million riders braved the commuter rail line leading to New York City in 2007, a figure which hasn't been reached since 1949, when over 91 million fannies filled the seats, and stood in the aisles. Of course, the LIRR saw the opportunity to toot its own horn. "Our research shows customer satisfaction is directly tied to on-time performance, and the LIRR is continuing to deliver in that important category," argued the president of the railroad. Of course, the more obvious answers lie in the growing desire to reduce one's reliance on the automobile, something the suburban area has found out sixty years too late. Of course it took this long to realize how brutal a long driving commute can be, but hey, I'm not going to say I told you so. In that vein, a recent New York Times article reported on the seemingly obvious fact that suburbanites have to do more to address the issue of carbon emissions, particularly since they are such a big part of the problem. (I can't exactly hide from shame, as I drive to work out to the suburbs from the city). Places like Levittown, the quintessential post-World War II suburb, are rising to the call, committing officially to meet the carbon emission standards set forth in the seminal Kyoto Protocol. This piece may be a bit surprising.

And finally, how about that crazed gunman who shot his way through the Kirkwood, Missouri, City Council meeting a few weeks back. No, I'm not going to be so callous as to say that they should have known, but anyone who finds themselves at local government meetings on a regular basis, as I count myself as one, it is not surprising how the anger can bubble up and explode with such a tragedy as occurred in that St. Louis suburb. Local government choices, including land use decisions, rile the ire of citizens every day. In every municipality around the country, you could probably point to "the guy who always shows up to the meetings" and wonder what gets him or her angry enough to come all the time. It's very simple, and not surprising, to point to issues that affect these folks on a fundamental level, and force them into desperation.

Decision Time

2008-01-31T21:57:00.000-05:00

As we move ever closer to some type of resolution to the electoral process that already seems like it has gone on far too long, the constant bombardment of news and propaganda can be a bit daunting. Here in New York we're gearing up for the Super Duper Stupendous Extravaganza which will be, for most of us, another drab Tuesday. But despite my attempts to steer clear of the hoopla, even the world of land use pulls me back into the fray. For instance, there is a report out of Chicago where, in the words of Hillary Clinton, "slum landlord business" magnate Tony Rezko was arrested on various charges you would expect of a sleazy developer.

Usually such a news item is of little moment on the national stage. But when he also knows the junior Senator from Illinois, who is also running for president, the stakes are raised. In particular, the 20-year connection between Rezko and Obama yielded an odd transaction back when the Senator just won his seat. Obama bought his house for $300,000 less than the asking price. As someone who is in the market for a new home, I can only bow to honor his good fortune. On top of that, the same day, Rezko's wife purchased the property next door for the retail price. Thereafter, Obama purchased a small portion of the neighboring lot to expand his yard. During his time in the state senate, Obama offered his clout in support of some of Rezko's projects. What all of this means is unclear. Is it another Whitewater, or just another wild goose chase? (Yes, both are seemingly the same thing). But behind it recalls the shady real estate deals that have become a hallmark of seemingly all presidential administrations. A little Teapot Dome, anyone?

In any event, the real tidbit into which I wanted to delve had to do with decisions that Americans have already made. An organization known as the Saint Consulting Group releases a yearly survey, the aptly-named Saint Index, which sets forth the pulse of America when it comes to land use. A co-worker passed it along to me, and I couldn't stop keeping my jaw from dropping to its limits. According to those surveyed, 78 percent of Americans believe there should be no new development in their hometown. Asked what type of new development they’d like to see in their community, one in three Americans said “none,” by far the most popular choice. But when you get more specific, it gets even more confounding. For instance, people were more supportive of a new power plant than a Wal-Mart or a casino. According to the survey, people would rather have a landfill than a casino. For all those people who may need medical attention at one time or another during their lifetimes, fear one-third of your neighbors who said that they would oppose a hospital in their town. And what about for the Clintons and Obamas out there? Eighty-nine percent of Americans believe a candidate’s position on growth is important at election time.

Where we will be come November is way too hard to predict at this early stage of the game. Within days, if not already, the saga of Tony Rezko will no doubt be forgotten amongst the electorate. But either way, the lessons learned from the process of seeking an up or down vote on the candidates, and the issues, is that we land use professionals should be mindful of the sentiment that lies beneath any application brought before a land use board. It is difficult not to recall the lessons of Kelo, and how the decision incited such intense, popular fervor. And of course, it still continues. As reported in Professor Patty Salkin's Law of the Land blog, California is at it again with another eminent domain measure to reach voters in November. The people have spoken. And in this fantastic political system we have chosen as our mode of governance, they will continue to do so.

Darlings

2008-01-18T20:29:00.000-05:00

Out of an unfortunate moment where we were a little too giddy with one another, my wife and I exchanged pleasantries in which both of us referred to the other as "darling." Unfortunately, this moment was also witnessed by my in-laws, who have ever since deemed us as "the darlings." This week I actually picked up a bottle of wine, with "Darling" on the label, mostly because of our nickname. The way in which we have been branded by my wife's family got me to thinking about the way in which certain places are treated in such fashion -- i.e., where media outlets and the population at large have certain perceptions of places as "darlings," or at least places that receive more attention, to the exclusion of others, when it comes to being the "hot" place, or being "up and coming."

Take for instance the love affair that continues unabated for Las Vegas. Starting with the boom in the late '80s ushered in by the Mirage, the metropolitan area has grown unabated as the fastest-growing settlement in America. Now the talk surrounds the next round of construction on the northern Strip, particularly in connection with the new resorts and new condo developments rising from the desert floor. "The building on the Strip is mind-boggling. There's more construction going on here than anywhere else in the world except Dubai and China," touts one local booster, a title insurance representative. It's still so hot, that owners of certain vacant lots are opening temporary casinos, for no more than a day, in order to preserve the properties' zoning designations permitting gambling on the premises. I have to admit -- I've been a follower of the trend for over a decade, and I've just put down more words devoted to the subject. But why do we choose to focus on these type of phenomena?

The same type of love extends to beloved landmarks. Take for instance Major League Baseball parks, where fans and city officials alike cannot wait to see the likes of Shea Stadium in Queens, New York, to be eradicated from the face of the earth. But the love continues for such places as Fenway Park in Boston, and Wrigley Field in Chicago. Not too long ago the City of Chicago, the caretaker of hallowed Wrigley, permitted the construction of seventy "bullpen box seats" to be added to the local landmark, but not without careful consideration. As a representative from the City's Department of Planning and Development made clear, "landmark buildings aren't frozen in time,[but] need to be maintained and can be improved while respecting their history." Separately, the Governor and Mayor are considering whether to have the State of Illinois' Sports Facilities Authority acquire and renovate the structure, as requested by the Cubs' current owner, the Tribune Co. Certainly a deal more about economics than preserving history, the government is nonetheless buying into the "darling" designation of the stadium.

But just as their are "darlings," there are perpetual punching bags as well. Not the least aided by another scathing season of HBO's "The Wire," which just began a few weeks ago, news came out of the real-life city of Baltimore, Maryland, that the municipality is suing Wells Fargo Bank for allegedly contributing to the massive number of foreclosures in the wake of the subprime scandal still leveling the housing industry. Similarly, in Cleveland, where the foreclosure nightmare has hit hard, rumblings continue to mount, even in its more affluent suburbs, like Shaker Heights, where some news accounts almost try and bait its residents to go along with what the writer seeks to argue. Another popular whipping place these days is Beijing, where the air quality is painted as being not exactly up to Olympic quality.

But finally, there are those places where people are trying to root for change for the better. In Newark, New Jersey, plans are underway to bring in high-end apartments into the downtown area. Sure, the usual artist stalwarts in the neighborhood bemoan the coming change. As one complained, "We've clearly become part of the strategy of using artists to turn areas into luxury enclaves." This may be true. But at least, until it gets to the point of being called a "darling," people are talking about Newark, without including the obligatory reference to the riots that happened there forty years ago. This may be a small step, but one hard-earned for the long-maligned city.

Are We Back Yet?

2008-01-03T22:20:00.000-05:00

Yes, I'm slowly emerging from the coma induced from the whirlwind that is the holidays. After taking a deep breath, and shaking out the cobwebs, I've returned to the world of land use finding that the issues that were out there before do not disappear just because you put them out of your mind for a week or two. Take for instance the doldrums of the real estate world that had to endure year-end reports that things were pretty wretched in the market this past year. Making things worse are the personal stories of how the downturn has impacted individuals and families. Take for instance the recent bankruptcy of Levitt & Sons, one of the successor companies to the builder that constructed the famed Levittown on Long Island. Levitt & Son's business model in constructing gated communities in the southeast for retirees has collapsed in the face of the housing slump. One of its projects, Seasons at Prince Creek West, was halted with only a quarter of the units completed. Purchasers of one of the new structures, Ettore and Laris Costanzo, are left to shoulder the burden of having plopped down a down payment, only to see it trapped in the bankruptcy proceeding. All they want is their home. "Please take our money and let us move in," they've said.

Even with the passing of the new year, people still see the need to question new projects that seek to bring great change, and promise tremendous upheaval, within existing communities. For example, in White Plains, New York, where Mayor Joseph M. Delfino and his team have revitalized a once dormant downtown with such luminaries as the Ritz-Carlton and Donald Trump, the questions arise as to whether everyone stands to benefit. As one denizen of a local public housing development notes, "I love the way downtown looks, but is there a place for working people like me in the new downtown? I don't know." Likewise, in St. Paul, Minnesota, where the Bridges of St. Paul, a large-scale development originally planned under a prior administration, has faced a roadblock from the new regime. Not only objecting to the plan because it caters towards an upper class clientele, the new mayor and supporting players disagree with the vision that the project brings. Specifically, the Bridges would be located across the Mississippi from the historic downtown core, potentially sucking away its vitality. In addition, the new project would be located on a floodplain right along the banks. As the chairman of the entity heading up the project explained, "We've done everything we can, but the squishy liberals think small-scale is morally superior." No matter which side you come out on these battles, they signal that with the changing calendar come the same issues to wrestle.

And still, growth is unrelenting. And not surprisingly, it's occurring in newly-charted territory. The Rocky Mountain West, in particular, Montana and Wyoming, are seeing an influx of new arrivals looking to escape the fast-paced, overdeveloped and high taxed world of the coasts for a more "natural" way of life. Of course, what no one tells these fleers is that eventually their genteel life will be invaded by too many interlopers, forcing them to seek the next "clean" place. But thanks to the general real estate slowdown, or because of it, the rate of growth in the expanding regions of America has slowed. One report indicates that although growth continues, with Wyoming being the largest advancer, the movement to new places has cooled over the last year. Nonetheless, the trend continues.

And no matter how long we choose to let them extend, the holidays cannot forestall the passage of time, and people. David Kennedy, the State of California's "Water Czar" in the 80's and 90's, passed away over the holidays. In more recent times, he served on a review panel examining the levee failures in New Orleans resulting from Hurricane Katrina. Kennedy had a tremendous impact on a region that will always have water on the brain.

But as this week marks the beginning of the new year, it also ushers in the PGA Tour golf season in Kapalua, Maui, Hawaii, where I can still remember being there this time of year three calendars ago. As I watch the players hack away at the Plantation Course, it at least reminds me of the promise of sunny days ahead as we progress into this new year. And maybe, just for a few more hours, I can slip back into my coma for a little longer.

Building From Scratch

2007-12-21T15:05:00.000-05:00

In a week where one of the last remaining original copies of the Magna Carta was purchased at auction, it seems fitting to return to the beginning of things, to a time when the built-up environment left a scant mark on the landscape, or even when places still had that stamp of newness that seems so long ago. The story item that caught my attention, and brought me to this topic, was the news out of the Chinese/Vietnamese border, where Asian Highway No. 14 is on its way to fruition. In an attempt to create a modern surface transportation network throughout the continent, plans are in the works for an 87,000-mile highway network across Asia. The 152-mile stretch from Hanoi to Lao Cai is meant as a gateway from China's Yunnan Province to the seaports of Vietnam, all in the interest of expanding the global reach of Asia's growing economic strength. As if drawn on a clean sheet of paper, the highway will change things, hopefully for the better, for the residents and businesses in this neck of the world. It will dirty things up further, and displace around 25,000 people, so hopefully it will all be worth it.

Another tidbit that got me to thinking about drastic changes to once untapped regions actually comes from the middle of the Chicagoland metropolitan area. How the heck are revolutionary changes supposed to happen on the well-tread shores of Lake Michigan, you ask? Well, in Evanston, the city nestled along the northern border of Chicago proper, they are looking to open up the door to a whole new kind of place from what it is now. Home to Northwestern University (which I called home for four years) and the Women's Christian Temperance Union movement, the current leaders of the city are welcoming in a proposed 523-foot tall building into the relatively modest skyline its downtown now musters. Nothing now existing in the suburb rises within 200 feet of the proposed tower. It would be seen miles away. A recent 4-3 vote of the Evanston Plan Commission has sent the process to the next step, but there are still significant hurdles to redefine the community. As one opponent noted, "Evanston is a little university town. It seems out of character to have a skyscraper here." We'll see which camp's vision for Evanston's future will win out.

And how about down in New Orleans, where the work to rebuild the city from the ground up continues to face daily battles as to what the vision will be. This week city politics have been ensnarled in a massive protest from citizens angry that the federal government plans to demolish thousands of low income housing units, with no real assurances that these units will be replaced. Brad Pitt's lofty plans aside, New Orleans struggles each day with these issues where complex, competing forces make the task almost impossible. People don't want to return to the past, but they do want to return to the home they remember. The real issue seems to be whether the vision for New Orleans actually foresees the inclusion of the residents that lived there prior to Katrina. As one of these stalwarts noted, "They don't want this city to be for the poor, working-class people. . . . Everyone else, kick them to the curb." Even though in some ways starting from scratch, there's a lot of history, resentment and suspicion planted on the banks of the Mississippi.

As we approach the time to put up a new calendar on the wall, it's another chance to start over. But for those out there celebrating Christmas (or even those who just get a few extra days off), this is the time to hold onto and enjoy a bit of the current state of things, before it is time yet again to forge ahead, and start anew. Enjoy!

An Embarrassment of Riches

2007-12-14T15:06:00.000-05:00

In a nation where everything has to be bigger and better, especially around this time of year, it's novel to see the things going on around the nation to attempt to curtail our voracious appetites, especially when it comes to devouring the land. One recent story that struck my fancy came out of Los Angeles, where the land of sprawl is coming to terms with its increasing density. The city's Planning Commission is contemplating a measure to curtail the McMansion effect that has plagued many of the metropolis' communities over the last few decades. In some camps, the measure falls short of what they are looking for to end the age of monstrosities on tiny single-family lots, what one City Councilman calls "Mansionization." First, the measure will only effect homes falling within a single type of zoning district, and would still permit homes to be half the square footage of the size of their respective lot. In addition, architectural requirements have not been added to the proposal, which effectively would allow the same "box" construction that many hope the revision to the zoning ordinance would end. Nonetheless, in a city where the average new home measures out at 3,250 square feet, it's a start.

How about in New York City, where the crush of cars that clog the 1950's style highway system has brought on the congestion pricing scheme that continues to work its way through the lengthy approval process. For the unindoctrinated, the plan would charge for all cars seeking to enter the island of Manhattan below 86th Street during peak times. In particular, tolls would be charged at the inbound Brooklyn, Manhattan, Williamsburg and Queensborough (59th Street) Bridges. Tolls were originally charged on these bridges (the ones that were around) up to 1911. The issue has been considered in various forms since the '60s, but has never been implemented. This week, the state commission charged with the hot potato continues to evaluate the proposal. It must issue its recommendation to the New York State Legislature and New York City Council for their approval.

In the same arena, which likewise impacts the congestion around New York, the U.S. Transportation Department plans on imposing limits on the number of flights coming in and out of John F. Kennedy Airport to alleviate the clogged skies above the Big Apple. An auction process may be instituted to distribute the coveted slots. The airlines see the measure as nothing less than a Kelo-like taking of property. As one spokesman noted, "We would oppose any auction process that seizes the existing assets of the airlines that have invested hundreds of millions, if not billions, over the years. . . ." Either way, the plan suggests that we need to safeguard our precious space -- even if it's 30,000 feet above our heads.

Finally, a spirit of sharing has emerged from the latest landmark agreement to redistribute the resources of the Colorado River amongst the states of the Western U.S. With dropping reservoirs met by increasing growth in the states of California, Nevada, Arizona, Colorado, Utah, New Mexico and Wyoming, the new plan fosters conservation and encourages scaling back the growth. As is unavoidable with any agreement, there will be grumbling. Environmental groups say it doesn't go far enough. The plan calls for decreasing water deliveries in times of drought. But nothing stops thirsty locales from sucking the river dry to those levels. Nonetheless, the realization has begun that maybe the era of America' embarrassment of riches may soon be over.

The Big Picture

2007-12-06T13:32:00.000-05:00

Last time we looked at ways that municipalities are using simple tweaks to their local processes to end up with good results for their inhabitants. Even the seemingly most minor choices can have a significant impact. What about choices that can have metropolitan-wide effects on the perception of a community? Oftentimes, this is more important for a community than the reality. From the items I've been finding this week, which prompted my thoughts on such big picture issues, one can see the effect that such decisions can have on an entire region. Take for example the news out of Los Angeles (which doesn't have to do with the writer's strike), where the LA County's Metropolitan Transportation Authority has voted to install turnstiles into their nascent subway and light-rail system. How is this a macro issue, you ask? As one talking head has opined in responding to the news, "Unfortunately, as L.A. gets to be more urban, it has these breakdowns in trust that happen in big cities." Author Joel Kotkin's comment misses the real point to be gained from the move. The result of this seemingly minor policy choice is that LA's transit system has moved into the big time, offering legitimacy by shifting from a little-enforced honor system to one that formalizes the fare-collection process. By investing millions in a seemingly minor aspect of the transit infrastructure, the MTA has established its facilities as a realistic way in which people can move about the seemingly endless metropolis.

Another curious phenomenon has been reported from the edges of Las Vegas, Nevada. In 1998, the U.S. Congress passed legislation that shifted money earned by the federal government in selling land in and around the Las Vegas region from a general Treasury account to one strictly devoted to the needs of the State of Nevada. What this has meant in the ensuing decade is that the State has partaken in a massive slush fund that has in turn been used to fuel the explosive development in the Las Vegas region. Intended to replace the sold land with the purchase of environmentally sensitive land, the expenditures from the fund have also gone to projects that foster the metropolis' growth, such as water facilities and community park amenities. As the Mayor of North Las Vegas has admitted, "We've gotten a bit greedy. . . . When your neighboring cities are asking for five times what you are, it tends to make your staff run around looking for projects." What's good for Nevada, is, well, good for Nevada. In the way that the federal government fostered suburban sprawl in the 1950's with FHA-backed mortgages and highway building, this new policy seems to be growing Las Vegas even further into the desert. But just like the LA decision is, the seemingly simple scheme in Las Vegas serves to increase the region's relevance, and thus the perception that it is continuing to grow at staggering rates -- which is also the reality.

Some other curious reports have come out recently, that also attempt to demonstrate how single choices shape the perception of regions. For instance, a recent Brookings Institution report ranked Washington, DC, as the most "walkable" region in the country. The top ranking was largely attributed to the Metro transit system that criss-crosses the region, allowing for transit-oriented development to crowd around the system's stops, creating active streetscapes that people want to perambulate through. Who knows how accurate the DC-based Brookings' study is, but it does again show how one decision can go a long way for a region.

Out of these slices of America comes the realization that public decision-making is no easy task. In addition, no one can predict for certain the impact of policy choices on big picture beliefs amongst the populace. But either way it goes, the perception will become reality. People can, and do, devote their lives to such efforts. Take the recent passing of advocate Eugene Jacobs, a California lawyer dubbed "the father of redevelopment law," who devoted his life to revitalizing downtowns. After a 60-year career, it will be easy to see the victories and losses of his efforts. But spending one's life on such issues points to the fact that the army out there pushing ahead today much take one's pursuits as seriously as the ones that have come before. As long as we follow this approach, we can only hope that the results will be as good, and big, as envisioned.

Zoning Makes the World Go 'Round

2007-11-29T21:54:00.000-05:00

As Thanksgiving is now in the rearview mirror (and hopefully the remnants not now attached to our backsides), we forge ahead towards the next round of holidays to greet us in December. By the end of my last post, I realized I left things a little darker than intended, so now I would like to shift back in happy mode for this edition. In that spirit, let's take a look around us to find the success stories going on in the world of land use, and see how much a little ingenuity can change things for the better. In particular, kudos to certain zoning and other municipal measures that have fostered new programs and neighborhoods that seem to make people's lives a little better. Sure, these news items highlight the ways in which these policies can equally create unhealthy, unintended consequences on the built environment, but let's overlook that grouchy outlook for the moment.

Let's start in Chicago, where none other than Mayor Daley, the tree-hugger himself, has spearheaded the city's Green Alley Initiative, which aims to replace impervious, paved alleys with porous paving material across the metropolis. This ingenious approach cuts down on runoff and allows for more natural absorption into the ground, which in turn allows for natural cleaning of the drained water to someday make its way back into Lake Michigan, the repository of Chicago's water system. The city has also set up an expedited permitting process for builders willing to undertake green building techniques. As one pundit notes, "Recycling programs are all well and good, but the things that really move public policy and the industry are things like taxes and the building code." How right Martin C. Pedersen, the executive editor of Metropolis magazine, is. Unlock the power of municipal regulation, and who knows what could be accomplished.

How about in Denver, Colorado, where recent zoning amendments have fostered the rehabilitation of the Capitol Hill neighborhood, bisected by its main drag, Colfax Avenue. Once an open drug market, other more desirable types of activities and residents have moved into the area, creating an eclectic, electric part of the city. Specifically, the city has encouraged street-level retail, and the retention of residential units on the upper floors of buildings. In a plan that would no doubt warm the heart of the Jane Jacobs fans out there, the neighborhood enjoys a lively, active streetscape. In addition, crime has seen a significant decrease - down 40 percent since 2005. Give a little, and let, as one denizen noted, "Colfax be Colfax."

And what about Toronto, Canada, where zoning changes have allowed for the sprouting of Peace Village, a subdivision in suburban Vaughan, north of the main city. Like the Hasidic Jewish communities of Rockland County, New York, and Ave Maria, a community centered around a Roman Catholic Church near Naples, Florida, Peace Village is faith-based -- centered around the Ahmadiyya Muslim faith. The mosque had been built in 1992, but the area surrounding it was zoned agricultural. In 1994, the zoning was changed to residential, and the place took off with the construction of homes on an adjacent plot. The developer worked with the mosque to cater the homes towards members of the Muslim sect, which attempts to unite religious doctrine with modern reality. Word of mouth was sufficient to sell out the initial stock of homes. Although seen by some in Toronto as an attempt to distance the community from mainstream society, the man who foresaw the potential of Peace Village notes that it simply allows for members of his faith to pray with their iman more regularly. Besides, many of the residents commute elsewhere for work. Either way, the benefits to the people who have chosen to live in Peace Village are clear. All, or at least, a portion of the tide was turned with the aid of a rezoning.

The power of zoning and other municipal regulations -- their ability to give and take away -- is omnipresent. They can stimulate many good things, with just a little forethought. There was a reason the Progressives of the early 20th century took up the cause of zoning. Sure, much of their philosophy was misguided elitism. But as the concept has evolved over the course of a century, the true benefits can be seen. The only question is whether this will become the rule, or remain the exception.

For Better or Worse

2007-11-21T13:24:00.000-05:00

As we move into the holiday portion of the year, it's alternatively fun and depressing to look back at the prior calendar and see how fast it all went. In the same vein, it is also a popular exercise to look back at the year, and take an accounting on how things are going out there, and revisit our friends to find out how the heck they're doing. I feel like doing the same thing for some of the stories I've been tracking in the land use world over the course of this year. Sure, I'm jumping the gun a bit on the recap for 2007, but there have been a few tidbits in the news that got me to thinking about whether some of these trends and happenings have taken a turn for the better, or for the worst. One story that popped up again in the news is out of my birthplace of Cleveland, which is suffering disproportionately hard from the foreclosure crisis that continues to affect homeowners across the nation. Unfortunately, it appears the fears reported have grown worse. Crime has infiltrated such places as Slavic Village, a working-class community in the metropolis. Not exactly new to crime, the area has nonetheless seen fortunes turn worse when homes are foreclosed. According to one source, on average, once the owners are forced to move, it takes about 72 hours for looters to strip everything valuable from a home, down to the piping. Approximately 800 homes stand vacant in the community.

How about in China, where from time to time we looked at the situations facing the hyper-growth economy of the largest market in the world. One such storyline comes from the Three Gorges Dam project, the gigantic harnessing of hydroelectric power occurring in the hinterland of the nation. After having displaced over a million people, rumblings are beginning to surface about the environmental degradation and geological instability caused by the construction. In addition, as the nation seeks to continue to harness its hydroelectric potential, there is a call for additional relocations and upheaval for more locals. In the end, the economic and social well being of those living in these regions may not be improved materially with all the hubbub. And besides, China is still building coal-burning electric plants to satiate most of the increasing demand for electricity.

With the stories thus far, it is enough to put a damper on our impending turkey fests. How about all the talk I devote to approaches to improve the environmental state of our built environment? In Fort Collins, Colorado, which believes it is, "Where Renewal Is a Way of Life," they are facing two proposed energy projects that demonstrate the difficulty in defining the term "clean energy" sources. One project involves the, at first blush, "clean" source of solar power. The other is the oft-evil nuclear power source. However, at closer inspection, the solar initiative will require the use of cadmium, a carcinogen, and the nuclear initiative, which involves the extraction of uranium near the town, would actually support power plants with no carbon emissions. Why must everything be so complex? Why can't we have at least one feel-good story where everything works out well?

Sure, it may seem like things are imploding in around us. Throw in global warming, and it only makes one even more uneasy as we hop in our cars, and on planes, to travel long distances to be with our loved ones for the holidays. Around this swirling turmoil, it is actually a good thing that it is time for the holidays. Because putting aside the minor squabbles bound to happen when families reunite for the season, be thankful they are there, to lean on and realize that there is still some good out there in the world.

Back to Basics

2007-11-13T22:13:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, or if you believe Occam's Razor, it is always the case that the simplest solution is the best solution. Keep it simple, and everything will work out just fine. When it comes to land use, it seems like the opposite maxim is the rule rather than the exception. Somehow, people like to go along with the often more cumbersome status quo rather than trying to change things up. We practitioners are left to navigate through the process with little help. Recently, while attempting to file an application, we were informed that the applicable municipality did not have any records of the building permits that were issued in connection with the existing structure on the property at issue. They asked that we go searching for the permits, because they, as the keeper of the records, must have some record of them before we move forward with our application. Rather than recognize the obvious, i.e., that if the Town does not have the permits, it is not too likely anyone else will, we are left to embark on a scavenger hunt to try and satisfy their request.

Another tidbit out in the world around us that highlighted this point is the crazy system that apparently governs the streets of Costa Rica, where it is almost impossible to find anything, especially if you have no idea where to look. Forget about using Google Earth -- you're pretty much on your own when it comes to seeking someone out in the Central American nation. There are no "addresses," as Americans have come to know them, but instead there are approximations of locations based on landmarks. Postal workers must actually attempt to deliver mail to such locales as "125 meters west of the Pizza Hut," or "from the Tibas cemetery, 200 meters south, 300 meters west, cross the train tracks, white two-story house." Twenty percent of the nation's mail is deemed "undeliverable" -- go figure. The national government is trying to correct this problem, issuing standardized addresses. Thinking how things can go wrong here, it is downright scary to contemplate how anything gets done in a place where no one can say for certain where they live or work.

How about those places where things seem to be working right? Well, the model I always turn to when it comes to land use is Portland, Oregon. Beginning in the 1970's, Portland, among other progressive land use approaches, decided to foster the increased use of bicycles as a primary mode of transportation. Today, Portland ranks as one of the most bicycle-friendly cities in the nation, and its nascent industry to support the level of usage is in turn becoming a vibrant, if not significant part of the economy. As one of the city commissioners has chronicled, "Our intentions are to be as sustainable a city as possible. . . . That means socially, that means environmentally and that means economically. The bike is great on all three of those factors." Who knows how overly-optimistic such an analysis may be, but it does show that simplicity, even in the land use realm, can supply some real answers.

Of course, "back to basics" doesn't always mean "better" when it comes to the built up environment. Take the example of Todd Haupt, an enterprising entrepreneur in Missouri real estate, who is beginning to feel the pains of the market as it comes back to earth from the heady days of the past decade. Out of one semester of community college education, Haupt had parlayed his flipping skills into a multi-million dollar enterprise. When the collapse came, Haupt essentially lost anything, having to start again from square one, to return to the "basics" of having nothing. "I feel like, yes, I overextended myself. . . . But when do you know not to overextend yourself? If I had a crystal ball, I never would have built my house. But when do you know? That's why we're speculators." In a situation like this, it is hard to figure out what may be the simplest solution. In the case of the volatile real estate market, it is hard to see when it will all turn sour until it starts to happen.

Of course, at the bottom of all things land use, the ultimate determination of what is simpler is usually what is cheaper. Take for example the trend in condo building developments, where developers are scaling back from the heyday of recent times when buildings had to offer crazier and more lavish amenities to attract the customer. Today, the reverse trend is in place, where "less is more." As one developer explains, "Costs are through the roof. . . . A developer today has to make every square foot as productive, economically, as possible." Not like this has ever not been the case. But it reinforces the point that to survive in this land use game, change is the key. That is the simplest solution. Of course, as for my predicament, I can only hope to change the municipal minds standing in my way of filing my application.

Roots

2007-10-31T21:48:00.000-04:00

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

2007-10-24T22:55:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-10-16T15:26:00.000-04:00

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!

2007-10-05T12:50:00.000-04:00

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!

The Father of Kelo

2007-09-27T13:05:00.000-04:00

You never can tell what you're going to be. My five-year-old nephew just started kindergarten this month, and has the whole world in front of him. I still hopefully have some time left, and who knows how I'll end up spending it. Sometimes, even at age fifty-five, people have no idea what you'll become, either. Nothing occupies the thoughts of so many commentators as this question does when it comes to newly-minted Supreme Court justices. There was a lot of hubbub over the recent appointees of Chief Justice Roberts, and Samuel Alito. But what about back in 1975, when Republican President Gerald Ford appointed a seemingly conservative Court of Appeals Judge named John Paul Stevens to the nation's highest court? Thirty-two years later, Stevens is seen as part of the liberal faction on the Supreme Court, buoyed by his authorship of the Kelo decision back in 2005. Even now, at the age of eighty-seven, it's not so easy to pin Stevens down. He still has a few surprises up his sleeves, just like what happens across the landscape when it comes to how a town will be pegged and defined by its own identity.

Take for instance the case of Clearwater, Florida, which once foresaw itself as a tourist destination for beachgoers along the Gulf of Mexico. By the 1970s, the city was on the verge of economic collapse. L. Ron Hubbard and the devotees to his Church of Scientology saw the dying burg as an opportunity to form a beachhead, literally, on dry land. Up to 1975, Hubbard had operated his religious movement predominantly on his yacht. But that year, the Church secretly bought up the Fort Harrison Hotel, a venerable, but aging structure in downtown Clearwater. From there, the Church purchased other properties, planting itself firmly in the city. By now, the non-members of the Church that remain in Clearwater have grown to accept the institution. As one such resident notes, "I think there's been a slow shift from a very strong adversarial relationship to a tolerance." In the process, Scientology has come to define this town, attracting such luminaries as Tom Cruise and John Travolta to make the pilgrimage to further their faith. Who knew this was the path Clearwater would take.

And what about the path of many retirees these days, who have chosen to return from whence they came. According to one report, there are more than fifty residential enclaves connected with college campuses that cater to retirees' needs. Take for instance Kendal at Oberlin, a development near the Ohio campus of Oberlin College. As the marketing director for the facility notes, thirty-seven percent of the residents have some connection to the college, be it alumni or faculty. "The college has such appeal. . . . There's youth, there's energy, there's all kinds of activities." The residents can audit classes for free. At the Carol Woods Retirement Community near the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, they have a ten-year waiting list. This type of housing option caters toward the portion of the senior set looking to recapture their youth, and with energy still to burn. Who knew that college would remain such an integral part of its graduates throughout their lives, down to housing and entertaining them in their golden years.

It's not surprising that the man who gave us Kelo is an individual who, just like his court opinion, is more complex than at first blush. In a way, it's fitting that Justice Stevens is the mouthpiece for one of the most inflammatory land use cases to be decided by the Supreme Court in its history. Just as he has changed and shifted over the years, the same is true of the places that make up this nation, which morph and adapt based on the needs of its residents, and the economic and demographic forces that guide a place's destiny.

How the Rest Live

2007-09-20T13:49:00.000-04:00

Last year, all you heard about was how the United States was going to rethink its immigration policy, and start clarifying what had become a looney, and sometimes dangerous path many people risked taking to join us here on the other side of the Border. Sure, it's a great country, but how many of us today would be willing to tread from where our forebears came and forge a new life like they did? Learning a new language alone precludes me from that group of hardy go-getters. Okay, it's a question that shouldn't be taken quite so lightly. But looking around, maybe it's an easier issue than the media, and our ancestors, have made it out to be. And the world of land use highlights this point.

Take for instance the phenomenon happening in Texas, where Mexican citizens are living in their second homes in the major metropolitan areas of the Lone Star State to forge their own version of the American dream. Granted, we're talking about the wealthy elites of our neighbor to the south, who are seeking refuge from the violent crime and kidnappings that they fear in their native land. Many are using the "business visa" route to entry, which grants visas to foreigners, and their immediate families, who are making a large investment in an American company, or a Mexican company doing business in the U.S. And the homes they buy tend to be large, and within a gated community. As one member of this exclusive group notes, "I really want to stay in the States. . . . My main reason is my kids. In Mexico, you can get kidnapped pretty easily. You can't take them to the supermarket or grocery store because you maybe turn around and lose them." Pragmatism drives this segment of the housing market, which runs contrary to many Americans' refocus on homes located in "friendlier" (meaning, denser) types of communities. For these newcomers, the higher the fence, the better it is. And its effect on the landscape cannot be ignored.

On the other side of the extreme is the way in which the desolate reaches of the American southwest are becoming the new battleground in the ever-changing paths people take to cross our borders. In the San Ysidro Mountains, east of San Diego, the U.S. Border Patrol's elite Air Mobile Unit patrols the terrain -- five miles inside of California. They must brave some of the most difficult areas to navigate through with the aid of helicopters and superior training. Imagine the hell the immigrants must withstand. In any event, people are using this ground as a pathway to hope and success. The definition of this land has changed, as the politics of border patrol have pushed the entry points away from the obvious, and into the land that most would rather forget. Who knows -- ten years from now this stretch may be a tourist spot, or maybe even a site of the latest housing development touted as a convenient, cheaper option for people looking to buy in the San Diego area.

And what about a different kind of turf war over immigration happening in the unlikely burg of Bogota, New Jersey? The confrontation pits brother against brother, over one of the most reviled scars caused by land development: the infernal billboard. Last year, mayor Steven Lonegan led a crusade to remove a McDonald's billboard written in Spanish. Twenty-one percent of Bogota residents are Hispanic, so it seemed like a reasonable idea for the Golden Arches to market to this demographic. Not so for Mayor Lonegan, a conservative Republican. On the other side of the aisle is immigration advocate Bryan Lonegan, a lawyer and Steve's brother. They no longer speak to one another. In the process, the tiny Borough has become a battleground over the immigration issue, with Mayor Steve currently on the winning side. Residents favored his initiative by a three to one margin. And then he tried to push for English as the official language of the town. With his large personality, he has turned his section of the world, deep inside America, into another patch of ground knee deep in the immigration issue. Once the realm of the zoning board, Mayor Lonegan brought the issue of billboards into a whole new realm.

Everywhere you turn, the immigration battle continues to rage, even if Congress has lost interest. But not only does it split people down ideological lines, it plays a role in shaping our built environment, and the way we use the land. Whether it be the suburbs of Houston, the San Ysidro Mountains or Bogota, New Jersey, these places have been altered because of the way in which our nation addresses how to allow others not fortunate enough to live here to join the fun. Wherever one falls on the issue, the fact remains that all it takes is a closer look around you, and you'll see what's going on.

High Rent District

2007-09-13T22:29:00.000-04:00

I have to admit that, in the blogosphere, my humble entry is a small blip in the crowded world of people voicing their opinions in this vast marketplace of ideas. Recently, I was alerted to blogs that I had never viewed before, and frankly, it only served to depress me. I realize my own limitations, but I also thought I was putting together some worthwhile snippets of what was going on out in the world of land use. Nonetheless, there are some highly informed types out there, who also know a thing or two about web design. Their efforts have not gone unnoticed, as some have even garnered advertising support for their endeavors.

For example, at Curbed, a real estate-themed site based in New York City, the focus is on one of the favorite pastimes of the settlement's inhabitants. "In New York City, it all comes back to real estate, rent, and the neighborhoods we inhabit." The site's description goes on by touting, "Curbed has become a daily fix for tens of thousands of NYC residents—and the most-trafficked neighborhood and real-estate weblog on the web." Started in May, 2004, Curbed is a cacophonous salute to the happenings around town, and demonstrates how absorbed the city can become in itself. Big surprise, I know, but advertisers realize the attraction, and developers, including that guy named Trump, turn up as sponsors. Not bad for a place devoted to such topics as the "Fart Cloud Building" of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. See, "Giant Fart Cloud Bldg Will Break No More Wind in Williamsburg," September 12, 2007.

And then there's the more staid, but highly respected blog with the clout of one of New York's most renown land use experts behind it. Law of the Land, hosted by Patricia Salkin, professor at Albany Law School, is "designed to provide a forum for the discussion of current laws, policies and decisions that affect the use of land." With more of a legal slant, Law of the Land focuses on recent court decisions and the like that impact land use. Aside from its pedigree, it has this fantastic panoramic picture of a gently sloping, green expanse extending down to a sea that disappears into the horizon. Although I have no idea where this place might be, somehow it draws me in every time -- as if it were Shangri-la.

When I see such great efforts out there, I turn inward, and figure out what I can do better as a blogger. Or maybe it's easier to blame others. Take for instance the Center for Municipal Solutions, which since 1987 has been hired by municipalities to draft ordinances that combat the "menace" that is the telecommunications industry. Most of my law practice these days involves being on the side of the wireless world. It's interesting to peer into the other side, and see who is attempting to parlay municipal fears into a living. It's also nice to put a name to the folks who keep me from devoting more time to blogging.

Luckily there are other voices out there to inspire, and spread the expanse of knowledge and possibilities when it comes to land use. I can only hope to aspire to such lofty goals from my modest perch.

Summer Memories

2007-09-05T11:49:00.000-04:00

With the passing of Labor Day, it's time to accept the fact that it's only going to get colder and darker. Fall is a great time of year, but it only foretells the inevitable descent into the doldrums of winter. In the meantime, it's nice to look back and think about all the things you did and didn't have a chance to do over the course of the summer. In the land of Kelo and Beyond, it seems fitting that there have been several recent stories in the land use realm that harkens back to the time of year when it's hot and sunny. Take for instance the land of Dirty Dancing, the Catskills. The State of New York has agreed to settle a seven-year battle with a developer seeking to construct a new resort area in amongst the pristine expanses 120 miles north of New York City. The biggest concern, among the many environmental groups challenging the plan, was the project's potential impact on the watershed containing some of the reservoirs that serve New York City's water needs. In the end, and in the spirit of Labor Day, all sides appeared to be satisfied with the results. The area got economic development, protection of a large chunk of the land in dispute and the chance for new hotels in upcoming summers.

And what about those bygone days of yore, when certain pastimes that no longer hold sway captivated the masses? One such example was the drive-in movie theater, which aside from certain pockets out there, seems to be going the way of silent films. Today there are around 400 across the country, down from 4,000 in 1958. Most owners found the shrinking crowds, and the demand for their land from big box retailers too strong to resist. Buffalo, New York just saw its last one close, to the lament of its long time customers. As one noted, after he saw the Elizabeth Taylor vehicle Cleopatra back in the day, "[b]eing a good Catholic that I am, I went to confession the next day . . . although to this day, I'm not quite sure why I went to confession. I wasn't the one cheating." Nonetheless, future generations will be cheated of a wonderful summer pastime, all due to the changing needs of how we use the land.

And what about that all too familiar site for summer fun, the Sunshine State of Florida? In a noticeably unfriendly gesture toward free-wheeling times, Coral Gables, Florida tried to outlaw the parking of pickups on residential streets, and even driveways, overnight. The Florida Third District Court of Appeal reversed a lower court ruling, and found that the law, part of Coral Gables' "City Beautiful" movement, crossed the line. Brought by none other than a young man waiting to hear the results of his bar examination, the lawsuit upheld what many see as a God given right: owning a truck. Being that these rugged vehicles also have half of their carriage exposed to the sun, how can't the city, smack dab in south Florida, welcome them with open arms?

In any event, as we all return to some semblance of normalcy (yes, unlikely, as "normalcy" is so often illusive), for those of us in cooler climes it's worth remembering these times, because they will all too soon leave us. And maybe there may even still be some leisure time left to savor the last few days of summer, and squeeze in all the things you still have yet to do.

There Goes the Neighborhood

2007-08-29T17:28:00.000-04:00

Neighborhoods and places never stay the same. A new restaurant opens up every day, it seems, in my neck of the woods. But as with any good story, scribes tend to look for the conflict in such changes and trends. The other day I heard my neighborhood being called "transitional," which is not only off the mark (the transition has already happened), it suggests within that loaded word a level of resentment at the "newcomers." It's an inevitable, natural response. And yet, oftentimes, change is good. As we approach the anniversary of the Katrina nightmare in New Orleans, the media is trying to find signs that the city is in fact alive and on its way back to wellness. According to one report, two to three thousand young, well-educated professionals have descended on the city over the last year to blend into the city's fabric. Most have decided to make New Orleans their permanent home. Called the "brain gain," the newbies have integrated into various sectors of the city's community. As one new arrival describes it, "I believe in the power of place." Maybe a bit high and mighty, but needed in a place that continues to strive towards normalcy.

Of course, not all of these types of stories can be friendly and heart warming. West of Washington, D.C., in Loudon County, Virginia, the continuing push into the countryside, which has exploded in the last decade, has prompted the small, leafy towns in the western part of the county to fight off the newcomers. The "line in the sand" is Route 15, which currently separates the more developed eastern portion of the county around Dulles International Airport from the more rural western sector. Using ploys such as forming nonprofits to acquire targeted property and applying to the National Park Service to designate large swaths of land as a national Civil War battlefield, western Loudon residents are trying their best to keep out the unwelcome carpetbaggers with their traffic and McMansions.

Even worse, and the one thing all neighborhoods must be vigilant of, is the unwelcome newcomer of "blight." It was long a word associated with "urban renewal," which justified the wiping away of vibrant urban neighborhoods in the disastrous policies of "slum clearing" in the first few decades after World War II. Now, in light of the foreclosure fallout from the subprime mortgage market disaster, as we first discussed in "In With the Old . ." from March 28, 2007, "blight" is a term of art for vacant, foreclosed homes in otherwise vibrant neighborhoods. In Southern California, where one hundred houses a day are foreclosed on, there's the unique problem of what to do with the pool. Unattended pools are becoming mosquito breeding grounds, opening up the door to West Nile virus potentialities. In addition, another breed of newcomers, brazen squatters, is looking to take advantage of empty houses in prime locations. As one police officer noted, "If you know what you're doing, you can get six months in a place with a kick-ass view."

As one who is seeking to buy a home in the near future, the thought of all the issues that are raised when you commit to a place are mind boggling. Sure, you have to contend with all of the little and big things that need to be fixed and tended to in connection with the structure itself. But you also have to take the risk that your neighbors will be just as interested in preserving the neighborhood as a whole. With that to contend with, it's not surprising that the first reaction when the newcomers arrive is one of suspicion, rather than of welcoming with open arms. That only seems to happen when, like in the case of New Orleans, they are desperately needed.

Legacy Building

2007-08-23T02:08:00.000-04:00

In honor of the death of Leona Helmsley, the "Queen of Mean" as she was called during the heyday of hate towards her in the early 1990's, I started thinking about the bad rap that generally feeds towards "developers" in general. A few times ago we discussed the instances where developers may go a little too far, all in the name of earning a buck. But it's interesting to look back on the life of Ms. Helmsley, as she was hated by just about everyone, but in the end, left a legacy of success in the world of development. Sure, there was a lot not to like about the woman: she was mean to her employees, she was sent to the slammer for tax evasion, she was successfully sued for her discriminatory views towards gays, she got her start as a real estate broker, etc., etc. But nobody seemed to quibble with the fact that she was very successful, along with her deceased husband, in orchestrating a splendid real estate empire. Hate the woman, not the game, as some may say.

A lot of good comes from those who are willing to build. Take for example in East Orange, New Jersey, where the long-decrepit Mayfair apartment building that required an emergency eviction of all occupants five years ago on account of the unsanitary, dangerous condition it had found itself, is experiencing a rebirth as a (relatively) affordable condominium building. Other major projects in the city are also signaling the beginning of a renaissance in this long-struggling place. On a downward turn since neighboring Newark's riots four decades ago, East Orange has turned the corner, lowering crime and attracting new development. The current owners of Mayfair, Mark Caller and Pinny Loketch of the GLC Group, have pinpointed another place where housing-starved denizens in this region can buy great places for less than what is usually demanded. Of course, those with an eye towards low-income residents rightly point out that the new development may equal gentrification. But at the same time, as in the words of the Mayfair's site manager, "What we're trying to do is rebuild a community here."

Another developer feel-good story comes from Fort Mill, South Carolina, where refugees from nearby Charlotte, North Carolina, and others, are flocking to the former sleepy mill town. One of the planned communities to be constructed is Kanawha, an "environmentally-oriented development," which at least sounds good. Aside from the environmental museum that would be part of the plan, there appear to be good people behind this project, including the York County Cultural and Heritage Foundation. In addition, the area will have access to light-rail service nearby beginning in the fall. The area has retained that small town character, even amidst the influx of new residents.

So even though developers deservedly get a bad rap for some of the things they pull from time to time, there are people in the business who want to go about it the right way. And even if they don't, sometimes the results allow some to overlook the nonsense that was required to get it done. Who knows, maybe when the hoopla surrounding Leona Helmsley's life fades from memory, all that will be left is the legacy of her efforts.

Lifelines

2007-08-11T12:41:00.000-04:00

Last week, the New York area was hit with a mid-summer storm that brought a deluge of rain, not to mention the first tornado to Brooklyn in over a century. In the aftermath of the event, where New Yorkers were making new friends while waiting for the next subway train, or cursing to themselves while they sat in traffic on the region's parkways (which is where I found myself), a significant backlash hit against those who are in control of these lifelines of commerce and connections. The millions of people who crowd in and around the island of Manhattan rely on these modes of transportation to conduct their daily business, and their daily lives. When everything shut down for a time on account of a bit of rain (it was actually around 1.7 inches between 6 a.m. and 7 a.m. that fateful day), people turned to the holders of the puppet strings of New York's transportation system for answers.

Generally, the response was one of being unprepared for the onslaught, as the severity of the storm was not expected by the transportation hierarchy. The finger pointing merry-go-round went from the Metropolitan Transportation Authority to the National Weather Service to global warming. But in the end, after the water has drained away, the realization becomes how fragile the whole system really is. Together all of us head out into the world each day, seemingly, and in reality, in a multiplicity of different directions. Every commuter for yourself, so back off! But what we often forget is that we're all in it together, and need to work with one another to keep things running smoothly. And although the system appeared to crumble on the morning of August 8, 2007, in reality, it demonstrated how resilient New York continues to prove itself time and again. Within hours, most of the transportation network had been restored, and people resumed their daily tasks -- almost as if nothing had happened.

The fragility of our lifelines is a theme that has traveled across the nation recently. The deadly bridge collapse in Minneapolis was a national story. In New York, we followed it with the same attention as anywhere across the nation. The fallout from this tragedy was a renewed effort to inspect the bridges across America. The result was a staggering number of spans that require some significant attention. Where the money will come from is another story altogether. The theme of precarious lifelines spans the centuries as well. Archeologists studying the ancient city of Angkor in Cambodia, believed to have been as sprawling as Los Angeles, have learned that the crumbling of the Southeast Asian metropolis in the 1500s may have been caused by the collapse of its highly sophisticated water management system. The sheer scale of the endeavor was its ultimate downfall. The caretakers could no longer maintain the system. The connections between our own transportation issues are instructive.

No matter how great our monuments become, we must keep in mind that without the lifelines that serve them, there is no way to sustain, or support them. The Angkor Wat temple stands as a testament of Angkor's fate. As American metropolitan areas have fanned out to the far reaches of the hinterlands, it is imperative that transportation remains at the forefront of any planning for the future. It may not be the most intriguing aspect of a new project, but it may very well be the most important.

You Want to See an Eyesore?

2007-08-08T17:04:00.000-04:00

Driving down to my parents' place over the weekend, my wife and I drove past the enormous complex of heavy industrial facilities that line the New Jersey Turnpike located at the foot of the Goethals Bridge. Belching noise, smoke and smells unlike just about anywhere else on earth, the epicenter of why New Jersey got the reputation of being New Jersey got me to pondering the way in which land use choices can produce an uncomfortable and unsightly place to be. Luckily, only the people who travel past lucky Exit 13 of the New Jersey Turnpike are exposed to what is an ungodly place to be. Let me just say that I enjoyed the time I spent in New Jersey as a resident, and have nothing bad to say about the state. And the Garden State is not alone in having its share of eyesores that litter the landscape. The question becomes how state and local officials contend with them, and attempt to incorporate them into the prettier parts of the landscape.

Take for instance the situation in Florida, where there is a growing attempt to regulate phosphate mines that spread across the state. Near the Peace River estuary, three counties are attempting to block a 20,675 acre phosphate mine from opening in their territory. Concerned with the loss of forest land and wetlands over the last few decades, the counties are challenging permits that were granted by the State Environmental Protection Department. Sure, the environmental and economic effects of these huge open mines seem to be sufficient factors to drive the opposition. However, it seems strange that there is no discussion of the operation of phosphate mining itself, and the way in which it scars the landscape. There are regulations that require mine operators to refill the affected areas when the sought-after materials have been extracted. Yet, just like their counterparts in New Jersey, the locals around the phosphate mines appear to accept the existence of the intensive activity, for some form of a "greater good," provided there are no ancillary effects on their way of life.

Shifting away from Florida, what about the eyesore that has defined America over the last half-century: I'm talking about the omnipresent suburban commercial strip lined with garish signage, fast food restaurants, roadside motels and big box retailers. In a place where they know a thing or two about garish decor, there is an attempt to spruce up one such strip for the better. In Memphis, Tennessee, the immediate area around Graceland, the former home of Elvis Presley, has deteriorated over the years into a run-down stretch of Americana that could certainly use a facelift. As the anchor of the community, the new controlling owner of Graceland, CKX Inc., is looking to invest $250 million in upgrading the facility. Plans have been announced, just before the 30th anniversary of the King's death, to add a new visitor center, a hotel and a high-tech museum on 100 acres next to the tourist destination. The head of Elvis Presley Enterprises, which is now a subsidiary of CKX, boils down the issue. "We've continued all these years to be a major destination attraction with a busy, pretty unattractive street running right through the middle of it." Having visited recently, I can vouch for this assessment. The tourist center is located across the street from the actual home -- plans are to put everything on one side. However, the intention is not to insulate the facility from the community. "We don't want to create an island," the head continues," "We want to be a catalyst for the right kind of growth and the right kind of revitalization of the commercial corridors." Seeing the need to remove the eyesore, which oddly enough isn't Graceland, the people running the facility have a keen sense how to eradicate it from the area.

In a world where we're all being forced to get a little closer to our neighbors (take for example a recent article talking about the greater Los Angeles region), the threat of constructing something that will offend one of the neighbors grows ever greater. There are many ways to go about it, but as is clear from above, the fight to eliminate them is on. Something like the New Jersey industrial complex may be difficult to remove. But for those that have either fallen out of favor, or fallen out of style, the tide marches on towards something new. Of course, as is true for anything built in America, this "new" proposal will no doubt face its fate as the eyesore of the next generation.

A Little Desecration Every Now And Then . . .

2007-08-01T12:49:00.000-04:00

Land developers have always been painted as willing to do just about anything to make a buck -- think Craig T. Nelson realizing in Poltergeist that he built a new subdivision on top of an old Native American burial ground. But what about good old George and Mary Bailey, who apparently built Bailey Park on top of an old cemetery in It's a Wonderful Life? No one seems to make a big deal about that. Regardless, the point is that no matter where or how one decides to build something new, it's likely that the project is bound to offend someone. The affront can be big or small, real or perceived. And sometimes, "hallowed ground" means the public space itself, at least from a Constitutional perspective. Take the recent New Jersey Supreme Court case where a homeowners' association won the right to restrict the posting of political signs in certain areas of the housing development governed by the association. And as is so often the case, the lawsuit started with an affront, with certain homeowners bristling at the association's restrictions against political signs, the use of common spaces for political meetings and limitations on publishing contrary opinions against the board in the association's newspaper. The significance of this case of first impression is too early to know, but will be played out in other courts over the next few years.

But beyond the worldly there is the spiritual world, which can often encroach on our space. Some projects can border on sacrilege, at least in some peoples' minds. For instance, in Pequannock, New Jersey, a wireless communications carrier has proposed constructing a 100-foot cellular tower shaped like a cross on property owned by the Bible Christian Fellowship Church. As a practitioner becoming very familiar with cell tower applications, this one seemed a bit unique. Wireless carriers have been searching for ways to hide their antennas for years, in such places as church steeples, flagpoles and structures that look (sort of) like trees. The cross option, in fact, has been used elsewhere. However, the thought of it no doubt causes consternation to those who have not heard of such proposals. As one local resident noted, "As a Christian, I wouldn't want to do anything that would denigrate the idea of the cross." Who knew that providing cell coverage would force certain Christians to test their very faith? Nonetheless, one Township councilman focused on the worldly. "There's a big difference between a man made structure such as this and natural vegetation such as trees." For the Church, they're just trying to figure out what's best for the institution, and the people it serves.

On the other side of the continent, in Navajo territory in New Mexico, tribal leaders are considering the construction of a $3 billion plan to construct the Desert Rock coal-burning generator facility that would emit over the course of a year carbon dioxide amounts equivalent to emissions from 1.5 million cars. The expected environmental opposition groups have entered the ring like Environmental Defense and the Natural Resources Defense Council. Local citizens groups, including Dooda Desert Rock, or "No to Desert Rock" in Navajo, have also voiced their objections. Even Governor, and Presidential contender Bill Richardson has entered the fray, coming out against the proposal. But lost amongst the bustle is also the opposition from some Navajos who see the plan as a deadly "energy monster" that desecrates Father Sky and Mother Earth. With a history of exploitation when it comes to mining activities in the region, you can understand how the worries have manifested in the spiritual realm. Yet, this opposition received far less attention than the legal and environmental challenges. Nonetheless, it seems these concerns are part of the equation as well.

So how far should spiritual concerns encroach into the land use process? Obviously, as a public matter, and in a country ostensibly devoted to the concept of the separation of church and state, the answer appears to be self-explanatory. However, it is undeniable that one's religious beliefs cannot help but factor into one's opinion on such projects. No, this isn't the same as when people challenged John F. Kennedy's devotion to his country, claiming he would follow the Pope. Projects such as these question one's faith, especially if you have to look at them every day. Sure, there are other issues involved, but it cannot be ignored in such stark examples. Nonetheless, just as the Founding Fathers realized when they put their own finishing touches on the Constitution, circumstances change, as well as values. Just as courts will continue to parse out the meaning of the Constitution, religious leaders and practitioners will continue to determine how to define and redefine their faith, and what they want it to look like.

Don't You Remember . . .

2007-07-25T17:00:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend, after prolonging the inevitable, I got my hair cut. The woman who shaved away the months of shagginess from my head was a chatty type, and listening to an oldies radio station, she fell on the subject of music, and how it marks the time. She remarked, "You know you're old when you hear a song, and it reminds you of a place you once were. The song puts you back there, and you can remember it all like it was yesterday." I noted the poignancy of her observation, and then gave the musing further thought. Walking back home from the gym the next day, the convergence of time, space and music hit me again, when I was listening to "Machine Gun" by the Commodores, a bizarre, but exceedingly catchy tune from the '70s that you'll hear in just about any movie about that decade these days. As I headed for home, and the music started blaring from my iPod, I looked up and saw this man, best described as a "dude," with '70's-style "Chips" sunglasses and a bushy porn-star mustache. In an instant, I was there.

But what do these chance moments have to do with land use? That's what I was wondering until I figured it out. It is not only the music that helps mark the time, it is the places that make up our built up environment themselves. The moments of our lives are marked by these locales, and in turn, the locales are defined by the moments. Two of the most jarring events of the past few American generations, the Kennedy assassination and September 11, 2001, are discussed amongst us using the same question time and again: "Where were you when . . ." The "who" and "what" supply the flavor for each personal testimonial, but it is the "where" that initiates the discussion. (For the record, at the first epoch, I wasn't around. On the second, I watched the horror from my office window in New Jersey).

Places mean what they do because of the moments that occur there. For instance, the first thing most people mention about Newark, New Jersey, is the riots that happened there forty years ago. Where JFK was shot, and where the Twin Towers fell, have become iconic, almost holy pieces of ground. But just as important are the endless places where everyone else was when they learned the news of these two horrible events. Another convergence of time and place occurred a few days ago, when I sat at a Continuing Legal Education seminar in the same room where I gave my best man speech to my brother and sister-in-law on their wedding day. The place will forever be connected with the moment that took place there before.

Why don't people like to buy homes where murders have occurred? Why does Victoria Beckham gasp when learning that her potential new digs were once owned by Lionel Richie? The answer lies in the meaning places acquire. A few years ago, in the middle of our move from the East to the West coast, my wife and I got stuck on the New Jersey Turnpike, running out of gas on account of a faulty gauge on the U-Haul we were renting. Every time we pass that spot, we mark it with a shaking of the head. Another way the spot is marked is with a new roadside hotel, which was in the midst of construction when we spent that fateful, stifling day on the side of the highway. What developers often forget when they bring the next new thing to town is that the place they seek to morph into their own conception was once something else meaningful to people. Most of the time locals will ignore the pull of their memories to allow the new project to proceed. But when residents protest, oftentimes the source of their objection is buried in the moments of the past that they clutch onto in their fight to halt the inevitable march. Not everywhere is there a Dealey Plaza or Ground Zero. Nonetheless, one must be mindful of the past when looking to reshape the future.

The Outsiders

2007-07-18T22:44:00.000-04:00

There's a lot of news in the world out there lately. Here in New York, Mayor Bloomberg's plan to bring "congestion pricing" to lower Manhattan fell on deaf ears in the state legislature. In addition, there was a big hubbub about a parking space that costs $225,000, and has a waiting list, in Manhattan's Chelsea's neighborhood. HBO Sports released a marvelous documentary on the Brooklyn Dodgers, which carefully charted how Power Broker Robert Moses prompted the move of the beloved baseball franchise to Los Angeles by denying Walter O'Malley access to the Atlantic Yards, which are currently being fought over again as the future site of a basketball arena. Beyond the confines of NYC, down South, atop the Florida aquifer system, development pressures are putting an intense stress on the underground water supply of the region. If current trends do not change, saltwater will begin to encroach on the dwindling freshwater supply. News from the post-Katrina Gulf coast indicates that despite, and evidence indicates because of, the slow pace of redevelopment occurring in this region after the devastating storm, the people that have returned to the region, left with little of the social institutions they once enjoyed, have turned to the casinos that line the Gulf for solace. Casino operators are reporting record revenues, largely due to locals turning to them for escape.

But out of the spotlight of these bigger stories comes a simple example of the American land use system working as it always has -- on the local level seeking to solve small, yet vital issues that mean most to communities and their residents. Recently, I found myself sitting in on a Town Board meeting on the east end of Long Island. I was there to monitor a topic on the Board's agenda relevant to my practice. Aside from learning the Board's thoughts on this issue, I left with a reminder as to why land use regulation exists, and the undercurrents that so often go unsaid. The item on the agenda that caught my attention involved the Town's problem with dealing with out-of-towners who are using the Town's beaches, to great ire of the locals. Although each of the people who weighed in on the issue carefully sidestepped the obvious implications of the proposed action, which would make it more difficult for the "outsiders" to use the Town's beaches, everyone could see the white elephant occupying its spot in the Board's chambers.

At the core of the issue, the residents, one after the other, voiced their complaints that these "out-of-towners," "none of whom had New York state license plates," were using their beaches, leaving behind garbage, using the sand as their personal toilets, cleaning their day's catch on the street outside their houses. The angry residents suggested to raise the price of day passes to their beaches, increase police presence around the beaches and generally discourage these unwelcome visitors from coming back. Sure, they prefaced their remarks with, "I don't see anything wrong with people using the beaches," but then they proceeded to express how to keep them away. Granted, the way these visitors were treating their destination was deplorable, and something should be done. But such comments as, "my grown children were appalled when they came back and saw what was happening," and "it's not how it used to be," suggests that deep down, if these residents could put a fence around their town, and require people to present photo I.D.s to get in (which is essentially what they were suggesting to the Town Board), they would do it. By the end of the discussion on the agenda item, I was fearful they would spot me as an interloper, and throw me out of Town.

This issue of providing public access to beaches is an age old problem. For instance, in Los Angeles, the owners of exclusive homes in the enclave of Malibu go through the never-ending struggle to discourage people from crossing through their community to reach the beach -- even though these beachgoers are within their rights under the "public trust doctrine." Going so far as hiring private goon squads to keep out the public, Malibu types constantly battle with public authorities seeking to strike a careful balance. What causes normally reasonable people to hire private security forces, or to take pictures of people using the beach (as in the case in this Long Island beach community) with their spare cash and free time? What kind of condition creates some of the most important land use cases that have come from the U.S. Supreme Court in the last few decades? (See Nollan v. California Coastal Commission, 483 U.S. 825 (1987), for instance). It is these seemingly innocuous matters that determine whether a community offers a good quality of life, or a burden on top of the other stresses of modern life. The land use system encroaches on the day-to-day lives of all of us, no matter how big or small, and every decision has consequences. Who knows what the ultimate outcome of the battle waging on the eastern end of Long Island will be. But in the end, another issue will no doubt come along to raise the ire of the locals, oftentimes caused by those pesky "outsiders."

Warm and Fuzzy

2007-07-11T13:13:00.000-04:00

When it gets to this point of the year, and you don't have air conditioning (which is the cruel fate we have been dealt for this summer), the very phrase "warm and fuzzy" is apt to give you the willies. The sensation against your sticky skin just screams uncomfortable and itchy. But putting that unpleasantness aside, the term "warm and fuzzy" also harkens to a very attractive feeling, especially when it comes to the question of place. Developers trying to sell expensive homes look to the descriptive phrase to entice high-salaried and/or -net worth types to buy into their new communities. Although developers try their best to generate it synthetically, it really takes the organic preexisting character of a locale, or the naturally-occurring trend of a certain breed of newcomers, to imprint the "warm and fuzzy" stamp on a place.

What got me into this disturbing realm? Well, besides the hallucinations of being subjected to over 90-degree heat at night, one recent tidbit aroused my attention. An unusual feature article found its way on the front page of the Sunday Real Estate section of The New York Times. Entitled "Park Slope Parent Trap," the piece explored the reputation of my current home as a place where "scores of 30-something couples who seemingly move to Brooklyn to breed." Comparing her neighborhood encounters to being in a "small country village, or in Australia," the writer's account forced me to hold my head in shame that I've willingly chosen to live in such a place. Prefacing her remarks by stating that she was unwillingly one of those "'annoying parent types'" that populate the area, the writer ended up embracing the warm and fuzzy nature of her home. Ahhhhh. Yeck.

But the attraction of warm and fuzzy places is not limited to a relatively small, self-absorbed enclave of New York City. Take for example the Texas Hill Country, a land with a rugged history, epitomized by one of its favorite sons, LBJ. The man, as president, showed off his gall bladder surgery scars while in office, for God's sake. How could he, too, have come from a land deemed "warm and fuzzy"? Unfortunately, it has come to be. The rolling hills, lakes and rivers of the Hill Country, a region located west of Austin, has attracted this type of crowd, to the horror of those who got there first. As one longer-term denizen noted, "'We just wanted a small house where we could enjoy the land and be left alone.'" After only eight years in his new home with his wife, this Hill Country resident sees the tide of development creeping into the territory. As one economist so concluded matter-of-factly, "'People want to live out in the country.'" Singer Willie Nelson has jumped into the frenzy, selling off a portion of his ranch in the area for luxury homes. One set of newcomers, from California no less, described the draw of the Hill Country for them by explaining that they "wanted [their] children to grow up in a 'warm and fuzzy area' with plenty of Southern hospitality."

It seems that no matter where the next frontiers of development are, be they in the urban center or the urban fringe, the common denominator is the omnipresent and aforementioned warm and fuzziness which I find so hard to embrace. People want that place where they can raise a family. (In the case of Park Slope, people seem to want to live in places where women freely expose their breasts in order to feed their hungry broods). As a newlywed looking to get started in this department, it doesn't seem to be that horrible of a request from the place my wife and I live. Then why does it concern me so? Why do I feel like I'm in 90-degree heat with a cat rubbing up against my leg? Developers spent the better part of the last century trying to impose a uniform built environment on Americans in the form of suburban tract housing developments. Today, developers are ostensibly adapting towards more diverse tastes, providing new offerings in preexisting urban settlements (such as the rehabbed buildings across Park Slope), and on the urban fringe with town center concepts allowing for pedestrian scale activity and community. But does this outlook necessarily comport with all of America? I'm not advocating the construction of unattractive, unsafe places to live, but does everything have to be perfectly polished, clean and bright? Does everything have to cater towards the well-off in child-bearing mode? Variety is a good thing, and "new" doesn't necessarily have to mean "warm and fuzzy." A little grit under your fingernails never hurt anyone -- take a look at LBJ and his scar.

Ah, Nature . . .

2007-07-04T16:52:00.000-04:00

The other day I found myself on a site visit which required me to literally hike through some of the remaining woods of Long Island. Rather than curse my fate, I took a moment to look around at my surroundings. In this most delightful time of year, with the trees in full bloom blanketing the landscape, it seems fitting to think a little about the natural environment around us. Living as most of us do in metropolitan areas, it is hard to imagine that at one time not too long ago most of the places we live and work and play today once roamed free from asphalt and other forms of impervious coverage. But in our push further and further into the natural habitats of the fauna and flora that have resisted us thus far, is there a way to strike a balance? Nature has always worked on the principle of balance -- a push is always met with a response, with some semblance of resolution resulting from the opposing forces. However, with the human race clearly pushing harder than all other species combined, how are the other animal life forms on this planet to respond?

One answer comes from Florida, where the bald eagle, once only the symbol of American democracy, is now a symbol of adaptation in a world in which it fights a seemingly losing battle. Rather than accepting its fate towards extinction, the species has returned with a vengeance in the last few decades. Rather than fighting the incessant suburban development taking place across the state's peninsula, the bald eagle has embraced the new opportunities for habitat, including nesting in cellphone towers, landfills, airport runways and along highways around the Sunshine State. Since 1963, the number of nesting pairs of bald eagles in the United States has increased from around 400 up to near 10,000 today, with Florida at the forefront of this renaissance. The bald eagle has proven to be a tough bird -- fitting for the nation it finds itself to be an important representative. As one biologist notes, "If eagles were thin-skinned, there wouldn't be an eagle in the United States."

Aside from nature's answer to development, people have recognized the value of a little nature and have turned back to bringing it back to their homes. One story out of The Wall Street Journal chronicles the recent push to recreate parcels in the middle of metropolitan areas into parkland. ("The Focus-Grouped Park," June 29, 2007). But in this age where everything has to be bigger and better, the parks of the 21st Century need to offer something exciting and new. Aside from such ventures as Atlanta's Belt Line initiative, which includes a push to turn a fallow quarry into a new recreational space, and Gold Medal Park in Minneapolis, which has turned a sea of asphalt parking lots into a public green, the real emblem of cities bringing back nature is the fittingly named Great Park in Irvine, California. To be constructed on a portion of the former El Toro Marine Corps Air Station, the new public space will cover an astounding 1,347 acres, and include a wildlife habitat area. Part of a deal brokered with a developer seeking to construct on the remaining portion of the tract, the new park will offer Orange County residents easy access away from the modern realities of the region's built up environment. Of course, in true California fashion, most people will have to drive to get there.

Nonetheless, this trend towards bringing back nature is one that may hint at a continuing push back to a greener way of life. Sure, we won't ever abandon our greedy ways, pushing ever further into the hinterlands. But these small steps hint at the need for us to adapt our mindset. Just as the bald eagle has done with its chosen home, our own habitat is one that requires continuing change, in order to ensure that we stick around for awhile in an environment we actually can enjoy. Even though I must admit that it wasn't exactly my favorite thing to be hiking through the woods of Long Island, I was definitely glad that there was a little bit left still to see. Even if I never have to go back, the thought of its existence is just as satisfying.

Changes

2007-06-27T10:13:00.000-04:00

So here I am, returned from a glorious honeymoon in Portugal. Aside from getting robbed of our remaining cash on our last day while we were away from our hotel room, Lisbon and Madeira offered a perfect spot to start a marriage. But of course, even on vacation, I found myself thinking about our exotic surroundings and trying to dissect how a settlement with hundreds of years on anywhere in America has evolved and adjusted to the realities of modern land use needs. Our first stop, Lisbon, had all of what an unindoctrinated American would expect from an "Old World" city. Tight cobblestone roads of the Alfama and Bairro Alto districts captured the bygone times of medieval Europe. We walked the ruins of the St. George's Castle, which overlooked the city, and explored the Belem Tower, a few miles outside of the city center, which was the demarcation point for countless voyages during the Age of Discovery. But it was a discovery that I made in our hotel which was most intriguing to me.

Rummaging through the hotel library, I came across a flier for the Lisbon International Triennale of Architecture, which will be held until the end of July. Unfortunately, I only read the pamphlet after we had left the city. Using "Urban Voids" as its main theme, the symposium's primary mission is to discuss and propose solutions to rectify what the literature calls "spots of 'non-city,' absent places, ignored or not in use anymore, aliens or survivors to any structuring urban plan." Like the "Drosscape" previously discussed in my post dated December 5, 2006, the collection of thinkers drawn to this event will examine ways to reuse and adapt those parcels and locales within cities that have fallen into disuse. When I think about the "Urban Voids" of Lisbon, I can recall those locations we traversed that needed additional consideration and attention. My wife and I left Lisbon with a sense that the city was one definitely worth exploring, but one that did not necessarily require a return trip. Sure, this is a different measure than one to determine the actual vitality of a city, but it does provide some indication as the work that the capital of Portugal can still do to improve on the centuries that have come before.

Moving over to Madeira, and the wonderful vistas that exude from its jagged coast and rugged topography, and the beautiful blue ocean that hugs its shores, this locale brought a sense of new discovery to us. At the same time, I saw many of the same questions to answer regarding "Urban Voids." Sure, Funchal, the major city on the volcanic island, is a beautiful, picture perfect postcard of a resort town, down to the overhead cable car system that take tourists over its wonderful streets below. Gorgeous, if not small vacation homes shove their way up the hills that lead out of town up into the heart of the island. But beneath the luster of the commercial center, where the day we walked its streets a line of classic automobiles were primed for a road rally, was there more that could be done?

I suppose the thoughts that crossed my mind most were about the potential of these places. Notwithstanding their existing beauty, as a land use professional, I couldn't resist what more they could be. In both locations, we were afforded only a very small sample of what it meant to be in "Lisbon" and "Funchal." But of what we saw, we were still left with, "is there more?" Maybe it's that ingrained American outlook on things that pushed us to ask for more. But if the great European minds thinking about issues involving the built environment are also asking this same question, maybe it is a more fundamental pursuit, one that crosses national borders and language and cultural differences. It is that inherent drive of optimism that continues to change and reshape the world around us. Almost on the order of the desire to repaint the walls in your house, just because you want something different, the need to update the place you live in is a prerequisite to remaining a vital part of the outside world. Changes need to be marked with great fanfare, just as my wife and I did in glorious fashion as we walked the streets of Portugal. Perhaps this underlying, fundamental movement towards change will entice us back to the country, to rediscover it all over again.

Location and Localism

2007-06-13T13:51:00.000-04:00

In the real estate biz, that old mantra of "location, location, location" remains tried and true, going strong in determining price and scarcity. A recent study from two Northwestern University economists highlights this point. In it, the authors conclude that owners who sell their homes on their own, as opposed to employing the services of a real estate agent, come out ahead in the race for the best price. Where does location factor into the equation, you ask? The study focused on the Madison, Wisconsin area, which has a highly developed online service, FSBOMadison,com, that has emerged in the region as the place to go to buy and sell real estate. Therefore, the applicability of the findings elsewhere all depend on the existence of such an online presence in an area. For me, this was the most interesting implication from the study. Contrary to many futurist commentators out there, no matter how technically dependent our society becomes, it is still all very much contingent on where you live as to what your day-to-day life means, formed by you and the neighbors around you.

Developers eyeing target properties must also take into account the inherent local flavor of the surrounding area when making determinations as to where to invest and build. Missteps are around every rolling hill of developable regions. A perfect case of this was the recent story out of Pennsylvania, where State officials have formed the Wall Street consortium, a project conceived to entice financial outfits located in the epicenter of lower Manhattan to establish back-up facilities in the bucolic setting of northeast Pennsylvania. The draw is that the region is outside of the "blast zone" of potential attacks and natural disasters that could befall Wall Street. As part of this initiative, the Governor has announced plans to construct a $24 million fiber optic cable network that would connect Pennsylvania to the current home of the world's movers and shakers. Up until now, Wall Street's interest in their neighbors to the west has been lukewarm at best. Boosters hope that the installation of high-speed connectivity to the fast-paced world of financial markets will open up the floodgates. Most remain skeptical.

On another front, backers in Blackman, Tennessee, a burgeoning exurb about 35 miles southwest of Nashville, are hoping to win approvals for Bible Park USA, a theme park sprawling over 100 acres of Tennessee farmland. The $150 to $200 million project would divide its focus so that one half of the park would be devoted to Old Testament teachings, and the other half to the New Testament. An authentic Galilean village would be at the center of it all. Even though the local residents are firmly rooted in the Bible Belt, when religion and land use mix, these denizens have decided to turn their back on the Lord. Despite a campaign described as completely "above-board," the local residents have let the preservation of the character of the community reign supreme. Even the local Methodist pastor is against the project. "Would I rather look at the theme park or would I rather look at the farmland and the forest here? I would pick the latter." Although the developers continue to push on in their fight through the zoning process, it appears that the almighty force of localism may win this round.

No matter where you decide to settle down, the enormous influence of a location's character engulfs the people who take ownership in a particular place. Whether you're in Madison, Wisconsin, northeast Pennsylvania or central Tennessee, people who call these places home have their own conception of how their world ought to be ordered. But that's the beauty of the process that governs land use -- it is in the hands of those that truly care to make a difference, whether one considers their vision right or wrong. But whatever the value system, it is one that at times not even a higher power can influence.

Speaking of ranging locations, my lovely fiance and I will be getting married this Saturday in bucolic upstate New York. After that, we'll be off to Portugal and Madeira. What that means is I'll be taking a vacation from my musings, returning in two weeks with a new edition, and hopefully a story or two to tell.

The Beginning, or the Beginning of the End

2007-06-06T23:07:00.000-04:00

Not too long ago I sat in my office, and picked up a new file. As with any new site, the first order of business of the land use attorney is to pinpoint the property, and learn as much as possible about it. The first place I went was Google Earth, the wonderful service provided by the internet giant that allows anyone to spy down on any property you can imagine, as if you're peeking down on Cuba circa 1962 and looking for ICBMs. Within a few moments, I could discern what was on the target property, and what the neighbors had done with their places. I also knew that the neighbors would not be happy with what we intended to propose. Outside my door I heard two colleagues talking about Google Earth, amazed how easy it had all become. As if on cue, they went on to tout how it has made our lives as land use professionals that much easier.

To make things clear, no, I’m not a spokesperson for Google. In fact, I'm more than happy to report on the darker side of things at "the happiest place on Earth," if the Disney folks had not already trademarked the phrase. Recently, the down side of being able to look down on everything from your childhood home to Wrigley Field has bubbled to the surface. In particular, the Street View function of Google Maps has raised concerns from the subjects of these revealing images. One California woman complained to Google once she discovered that the picture of her home included a clear view of her cat Monty. Apparently a popular pic floating around the internet is one from the Stanford University campus revealing two young ladies sunbathing in their bikinis. Google's reply has been that they do have a mechanism whereby people may request that certain images be removed from the system. Few complaints have been submitted. Yet, the question becomes where should the line be drawn between the public and private sphere?

Sure, I don't exactly want pictures of me singing in the shower spreading across cyberspace. But aside from a few unavoidable, and unfortunate images that may creep into the fabric of Google's vast gallery, the overwhelming aid that it provides cannot be ignored. Yes, this means more images of Monty the cat and bikini-clad beauties. But breaking down the world lot by lot puts the world literally at your fingertips. As the technology improves (see Microsoft's Virtual Earth, for example), the quality of the imagery will only become more invaluable. At least we have a legitimate excuse as land use professionals as to why we're spending our working hours spying on our neighbors. Not so much for the surfers seeking out the Stanford co-eds, and the man in San Francisco offering lap dances and other such entertainment to passersby.

Above It All

2007-05-30T13:46:00.000-04:00

Each day, as I drive home from work, I have the pleasure of looking off in the distance, and eyeing the odd beauty that is the New York City skyline. Anchoring it in the middle of it all is the venerable Empire State Building, rising to the clouds, holding down the fort as the tallest structure in the city -- at least until the Freedom Tower is completed within the next decade. Ever since the Woolworth and Flatiron Buildings ushered in the age of the skyscraper, other cities have followed suit to use height as a way to define their image and power on the world stage. The Sears Tower wrestled the reins of the world's tallest from New York in the '70's. Although a coup, it was really the current wave of skyscraper construction, started in the '90's with the Petronas Towers of Kuala Lampur, Malaysia, that shifted the epicenter out of America, and towards other places that are seeking to define themselves in the global marketplace with attention-grabbing megastructures.

For instance, in South Korea, cities are battling each other for supremacy in the race to build ever higher. Incheon, better known as an important landing spot during the Korean War, is now seeking to put itself on the map in a bigger way with the Songdo Incheon Towers, a double-towered complex planned to rise over 2,000 feet into the air. Seoul, the capital, is seeking to answer its less illustrious neighbor with a ridiculous 3,200-foot behemoth. The Empire State Building would stand in their shadows, rising a mere 1,250 feet. Currently, the tallest building in the world lies in Taiwan, the Taipei 101, at 1,667 feet. Sure, the tallest man-made structure is an American radio tower, but it's in North Dakota. Generally, tall structures are meant to be located in the context of a growing, optimistic place. The recent rash of building is no different, as most of the new buildings have, or will rise in cities in Asia and the Middle East. As one observer has noted, "Chinese cities that I've never heard of are building skylines that rival New York's."

Despite the massive scale of these projects, which tend to dwarf the pedestrian-scale communities so often sought after by modern land use planners, places still see the value in building high. Even New York and Chicago have planned tall buildings for their near future. The answer not only lies in the original motivation to build up -- rising urban land prices -- and the modern technological advances that have enabled engineers and developers to propel ever higher. The deeper reason lies in the psychology of place, and the need for inhabitants of a certain town to feel as if they belong in the "big time." If they can build these technological marvels, the argument goes, then they are capable of anything. The same motivation that drove the likes of Chicago to escape its image as the world's slaughterhouse on the heartland's prairie drives Dubai to rise above the desert floor and foster its place as the financial center of the Middle East.

Take a moment to scan SkyscraperPage.com, and it's hard to not be taken in by the flashiness that tall buildings bring. Lined up one against the other, it becomes even clearer the power that they produce for a place. You can even look at the inventory of each major city, to see how each stacks up against one other. It is the simple awe that these structures produce that keeps city leaders and engineers seeking to build the next greatest building. Interestingly, this weekend, TCM will begin running a series of films under the banner of "Celuloid Skyline," that capture the majesty of New York City. Not surprisingly, skyscrapers will play an important role. It is the fascination in our imaginations that make skyscrapers so powerful, and why they are so important for a place -- especially when they are no longer there. Every evening I peer out over the New York skyline, it is hard to ignore the thoughts of the missing Twin Towers, standing with the Empire State Building, anchoring lower Manhattan. Tall buildings are erected with the belief they will stand forever. Even if no longer there, they will not be forgotten.

A River Runs Through It

2007-05-23T13:04:00.000-04:00

Who can resist a waterfront view? The closest I've come thus far is an obstructed glimpse of the top of the towers that support the George Washington Bridge when I lived in New Jersey. Right now, I stare out over a lovely community garden (if you ignore the fruit flies that converge on the site, and infiltrate our apartment). But it's not the same. I still have fond memories of the places my fiance and I stayed in Hawaii when we visited a few years ago. At one locale we stared out over the beaches of Kapalua, on Maui, with the volcanic humps that make up modern-day Molokai off in the distance. On the Big Island, we were literally on the water, looking out over the western horizon, allowing us the chance to watch the sunset from the comfort of our lanai. As we head to Portugal for our honeymoon next month, we wait in anticipation for the resort we have lined up in Madeira, the island off the coast, where we will have unobstructed views of the Atlantic Ocean below. When available, waterfront property still reigns as one of the most sought after places to locate. But who wants to risk being under water in a few years once the polar ice caps cross over the tipping point? In the interest of global warming-minded folks out there, it seems that in lieu of those treacherous, and potentially costly ocean views, vantage points overlooking a river seem like a welcome alternative.

For instance, in the St. Louis region, 28,000 homes on over 6,000 acres have been built near the majestic Mississippi in the last fifteen years. One little tidbit that should be mentioned is that this same area was under water during the massive floods that hit the region that year. In light of the recent flooding in the region, where the nearby Missouri River jumped its banks, it seems that maybe even rivers aren't safe from the upheaval happening in the Earth's climate. Nonetheless, people cannot resist the innate urge to be by the water. As one resident in the threatened area noted, "'It's not going to flood here for another 100 years and I won't be around by then.'" Not exactly the best attitude, but one that appears to carry the day for the people that have decided to tempt fate and live near the river.

How about Knoxville, Tennessee, where optimistic developers are investing in projects along the Tennessee River. On the south banks, where the manufacturing base of the community once hummed, a new residential neighborhood is sprouting to offer people the chance to live near the central business district, have access to the burgeoning arts scene in the city, and, you guessed it, live near the water. Part of the vision by Mayor Bill Haslam to bring people back downtown, it has the strong draw of the river to entice people away from their McMansions in the suburbs. As one proud, recent buyer into the area noted, "'It's all about being on the water. It's a great investment.'" (See, "Reviving a No Man's Land Along the Tennessee River," by Keith Schneider, New York Times, May 13, 2007).

Another feel good story is Newark, New Jersey, a place I called my workplace for several years. Bordered by the Passaic River, people are returning to the city best known for the 1967 riots. Not just about the Ironbound now, other areas of the city are seeing growth in new residential projects. Attracted by the beach heads of the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, the aforementioned Ironbound district, so named for the railroad tracks that surround it, and today a hotbed of Portuguese restaurants and appreciating residential units, young professionals working in New York City see it as a welcome alternative to the high costs of Jersey City, Hoboken, and the City itself. Maybe the river is a stretch in this case, particularly since no one aside from the intermittent rowing teams seem to use it for recreational purposes (with good reason). Nonetheless, a view of the Passaic is still a view of the water.

But a river won't guarantee a place's success. Take the example of Cairo, Illinois, at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. At first blush, it seems like an ideal location. But Cairo has fallen on hard times, combined with bad soil, the end of the riverboat era, the Great Depression and civil strife. Nonetheless, the new mayor, the city's first African American chief executive, Judson Childs, at 73, is looking to turn the corner. Although he has a long way to go, he certainly has one thing going for him: that highly sought after location next to two mighty rivers. Someday someone no doubt will see the gold mine hidden at the bottom of Illinois, once many of the other waterfront views are no more. Perhaps this is an unduly dire prediction, but it is one that should be in the calculation of regions looking to expand "along the water."

What's That Outside My Window?

2007-05-16T13:02:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, the powers that be within our building posted an advertisement for a vacant lot. Upon closer inspection, it was not meant to attract interested buyers -- quite the contrary, in fact. The flyer was for the parcel behind our building, which right now appears to be a makeshift mini-storage facility. Behind the chain link fence is a long-outmoded streetcar or bus (at this point it's hard to tell), crammed with all sorts of miscellaneous items that are shoved so tight they block passersby from viewing inside the windows. Every now and then there's a car parked inside the gates -- perhaps the owner spending some quality time on his otherwise abandoned lot. Surrounding the site, along with our building, are other residences and a local spot for artists and music shows. Asking price: over seven million dollars. Whether it's a fair price or not, the reason our neighbors brought this tidbit of news to our attention is because the advertisement insinuates that the local zoning requirements would permit a 10-story building to rise next door to us. There goes the neighborhood. Or then again, maybe not.

Of course, being so often on the other side of these squabbles, I understand the sensational nature of our fellow building residents' assertions. The numbers of course came from the announcement itself, prepared by the real estate agent for the owner, which no doubt ignores the gap between the maximum permitted buildout and what realistically would get past the applicable land use board. I mean, really, if there's one lesson I've learned over the course of my time in the land use arena is that if you have to trust anyone, try avoiding finding yourself choosing amongst a collection of real estate agents. I always think back to the days of the shady land speculators that sold and sold again a good chunk of the West, or when people would successfully sell a portion of the Brooklyn Bridge, or perhaps when someone could unload a prime tract of swampland in Florida. Or look around today.

For instance, in remote Box Elder County, Utah, local officials have had to notify 3,000 unsuspecting individuals who bought parcels of land from smarmy developers that their purchases were illegal and invalid. The culprits in this sham never bothered to get subdivision approval from the county, which would have allowed them to legally carve up and dispose of their tracts. The sad folks who fell into these schemes are proud owners of investments which amount to little more than mirages that appear in that desert region. Using eBay and other willing Internet providers, the sellers have netted millions, from such far away sources as Germany and Australia. Even if the new owners wanted to see their lands, they would have no right, because they have no access from public rights-of-way.

Okay, so we're talking about a simple case of fraud, committed on people who in a lot of ways have no one to blame but themselves for their stupidity. Apparently many of them didn't even bother to take a look at their new little slice of heaven before they plopped down the asking price from afar. But underlying this episode, along with the matter outside my window, is the way in which land use so often gets lost in the shuffle, or gets twisted in a way to become unrecognizable from the truth. As they say, the truth is out there, and doesn't take much to find the answers. In a way I want to jump into the fray, and help guide my neighbors on their path to NIMBYism. On the other hand, it's almost more worthwhile to let them jump in and fend for themselves. Not only will they learn about the land use process, they'll realize that the next time they require the services of a real estate agent, or are thinking about buying into a desert oasis, they may want to do a little independent research to make sure they know the facts.

Free Stuff!

2007-05-09T12:38:00.000-04:00

Walking back from the gym over the weekend, I came across an odd sight on the side of the sidewalk. Hanging from the iron fence guarding a brownstone were various articles of clothing, suspended from hangars originating from a local dry cleaners, as if to lend the impression of cleanliness to the offerings. Boxes sat underneath the clothes, filled with books and other knickknacks. I've seen this sort of display before out in the neighborhood, but what changed it for me was the modest, handwritten sign accompanying the wares that read "Free Stuff!" I suppose that made things more appealing for my neighbors, as I watched them scavenge through the goods for that gem amongst the roughness. I wanted to look, but in the back of my mind, I imagined the impromptu sidewalk sale could have been for all sorts of reasons. My favorite was imagining it as a spurned lover trying to get back at the one who rejected him or her. In any event, I kept walking.

But another tidbit of interest struck my fancy that brought me back to the wares on the street -- at least in my thoughts. Back in December, Sao Paulo, Brazil, in response to perennial offenders of their restrictions, and in an effort to combat "visual pollution," imposed a ban on all outdoor advertising throughout the city. Not only would billboards and signs have to come down, but all forms of public advertising, including paper flyers and streamers fluttering from planes, were eliminated from the 11-million strong city. Living in a place where Jameson's can splash ads for their Irish whiskey across the insides of subway cars ridden by schoolchildren, I was astonished to learn the extreme steps the Brazilian metropolis has taken to relieve the populace from information overload. Having spent hours of my life reshaping and haggling over every imaginable aspect of commercial signage for projects on my file list, I can almost appreciate the simplicity in Sao Paulo's efforts.

But putting aside the First Amendment issues, particularly since Sao Paulo is not subject to the U.S. Constitution, the question becomes who controls the public domain? Sure, billboards have been the bane of many a municipality's existence, particularly those that have highways passing through them. Zoning ordinances commonly attempt to keep them out. But what about those places that have turned advertising into inherent parts of their identity? In New York, Times Square has turned the cacophony of sight and sound that is eyesore advertising into an art. The Pepsi-Cola sign in Long Island City became a historic landmark. For those fans of The Sopranos out there, how could Tony Soprano drive through Jersey without passing by the "Drive Safely" signs posted on the Citco oil tanks along the New Jersey Turnpike, or Pizzaland once he makes it to the local streets. And what about my former home, where the Hollywood sign started as an ad for a housing development. Don't these icons have a place in our places?

I can certainly understand the source of Sao Paulo's frustration. Commercial enterprises have long sought to stretch the bounds of decency in order to gain attention for their goods and services. Fast-food restaurants rely on huge signage to draw in the impulse buyers who make up a large percentage of their customers. Even the City of San Francisco went too far last year when it tried to scent its bus stops with the warm goodness of cookies to push milk. But the absence of all signage and advertisements would in a way denude the very things that define a community, not to mention make it kind of difficult to pick out where you're trying to head when you don't know exactly where you are. Sao Paulo's honorable plan will most likely end once the litany of lawsuits work their way through the Brazilian legal system. But once the dust settles, it sure is interesting to think about a world without the daily bombardment of our commercial world. Would it be kinder and gentler? Probably, but then how would we know when someone's giving away free stuff?

To Pay or Not to Pay

2007-05-02T16:36:00.000-04:00

In my first month back on the job, I've been reacquainting myself with Long Island. After having been away on a day-to-day basis for over a decade, I'm discovering the changes that have occurred in the interceding years. On my seemingly frequent trips thus far out to the Eastern End, I'm spotting a slew of development projects that did not exist in my memories. I'm not exactly surprised, as the push had commenced way before I left for the "mainland." But aside from relearning the geography, I'm also engaging once again in the daily realities that comprise the land use process. At the top of this list, as it is no doubt for many land use practitioners, is the contact one has with the decision makers and administrative officials filling the seats and positions at the municipalities within which one operates. By and large, these folks are committed public servants who, despite the travails of working with us professional types (and the not-so-professional applicants from the residential realm), perform their duties amiably and competently.

Of course, every now and then, as in any social realm, there will be conflict and personality clashes. I try to avoid such messiness, as it serves to only muddle an already muddy process. But every now and then, I scratch my head at the operation of things. Over the past month or so, Newsday, the Long Island newspaper, has been running stories that have exposed the practice of granting land use board members generous perks in furtherance of their duties. For instance, in the Town of Hempstead, the Town Council, despite outside pressure, preserved full medical benefits for the members of the zoning board of appeals for their part-time work. This fabulous compensation supplements the $38,000 a year each member already makes. Incidentally, one of the board members happens to be Katuria D'Amato, wife of former Senator and power broker Alfonse D'Amato.

Coming from New Jersey, where the vast majority of land use board members serve for nothing in return except a pat on the back, or maybe a paltry stipend, the news made me question any fond memories I may have had in connection with a bucolic Long Island of yore, or even the shopping centers that replaced it. But looking past the obvious shock value which Newsday sought to exploit, I thought deeper on the subject to consider whether these thankless public servants should get more than a sense of satisfaction. Why not pay board members to listen to application after application, until the clock contorts to the wee hours of the night? Why not attract people to the process who aren't just friends of the politicians who happen to control Town or Village Hall? If this were a formal study, it would first be intriguing to find out what the current state of affairs is across the country. The next step would be to analyze how the various approaches have fared. But at this inquiry's core, if the process is meant to be one of peers judging peers, like a jury, or each individual voter, how does money change the process? Sure, jurors get paid, but not enough to pay for an addition to the house. They also aren't covered if they happen to require medical attention during their service.

Where do I fall on all this? Well, for me, it's about the system working. Take the Hempstead example again. In the Village of Hempstead, an incorporated area within the Town of the same name, progress continues ahead to rebuild the municipality after years of decay. One such example, the renovation of Cedar Valley Apartments, has attempted to attract homeowners back to the Village by offering low-income buyers assistance through federal grants to buy back into the community. Spearheaded by Mayor Wayne Hall, County Supervisor Thomas Suozzi and the developer, ABC Properties, the plan is to use this success as a springboard for others. This is what the process is all about -- everyone working together. The question is, how much should it cost to get something like this done?

Trainspotting

2007-04-25T12:51:00.000-04:00

On our way back from Los Angeles in December, my fiance and I drove up the Pacific Coast to Seattle before we headed east. A part of the draw (at least for me) was the chance to see Portland, Oregon, the subject of a few papers I wrote during my student days, and the source of my early interest in land use policy. One of the hallmarks of the city, which I got to see in operation, was the MAX light-rail system that criss-crosses through the city and deep into its suburbs. As I watched the trains roll through the center of Portland, I imagined those sleek contraptions as the trolleys of yesteryear, long gone from the streets of America before I ever would have had the chance to dodge them in Brooklyn. But aside from adding color to the mid-sized Pacific Northwest city, the MAX has brought public transportation to a place once seen as a haven for the automobile. I can't exactly claim to be a daily public transport practitioner, as my commute amounts to a 45-minute car ride each way. But the power of public transport extends beyond the people that ride.

In the greater Salt Lake City area, the derivatively-named TRAX light-rail system has brought great change to the way in which the metropolitan area has chosen to grow. Around several of the twenty-three stations that comprise the fledgling system started in 1999, developers have responded to a market for housing and amenities accessible without the need of a car. Several projects have gone up, or are in the process of being constructed, around the transit hubs, bringing new life to inner-ring suburban neighborhoods. As always, there is a buzz word to describe the phenomenon. In this case, it's "transit-oriented development," or TOD, which centers around public transportation to allow people to live, work and play without the need to drive. For instance, ground breaking will commence soon on the Birkhill at Fireclay project, a thirty-acre, $140 million project next to the Murray North TRAX station. Other similar mixed-use projects are in various stages of completion along the line. Of course, this sort of living isn't for everyone, but the developers of these projects are seeing brisk sales of their offerings.

New York City long ago went the route of investing heavily in public transport systems. Mayor Michael Bloomberg reinforced this vision when he announced this week that as part of his PlaNYC proposals to make New York City a green city, he would be proposing an $8 "congestion pricing" plan, requiring all drivers entering Manhattan below 86th Street to pay the fee. (See "That Infernal Car," post dated 2/21/07, for more on congestion pricing). Of course, drivers are horrified by the prospects. Coincidentally (or not so coincidentally), my oldest and dearest friend (God bless him), who also lives in Brooklyn, currently finds himself needing to buy a new car after his current one failed. In the interim, he decided to take the subway to get where he needs to go. The experiment lasted a day, after which he rented a car. As he told me, "some people are subway people, and some aren't." He falls in the latter category.

What this all amounts to is that public transportation is an oddly divisive issue. But kind of like how most First Amendment arguments go, you have the choice to listen or ignore what's being offered. Sure, taking a subway, or a bus or a sleek light-rail train has its inconveniences. But what cannot be denied is how transit shapes land use. Whether it be a light rail line or a parkway to the residential area of your choice, the fact is that where the exits are dictate where the houses are. The nearest subway stop is right outside my door, and yet I drive to work. Nonetheless, I am certainly glad to have that "exit" at my convenience, for the times I don't want to drive. As I watched those light-rail trains go past me in Portland, I knew wherever they went, the people, and particularly, the developers, followed. I also knew my time spent with the trains of Portland would have another incidental effect -- the purchase of a winter coat (luckily vintage) for my fiance who had to put up with my bizarre obsession.

Water, Water, Everywhere -- Or Not

2007-04-18T12:29:00.000-04:00

This past week, I attended a presentation on nutrition (it's better not to know the details), and the wonderful things we should and should not put into our bodies. One of the important points that resonated amongst the attendees was the need to drink water -- on the order of half your weight in ounces each day. Among many of the other recommendations we heard that day, this one seemed to make sense. It sure beats soda (or pop, or Coke, or however you like to refer to carbonated concoctions), which apparently can dissolve a nail in a matter of days. Frightening considering how much I drink of the stuff. So predictably, the informative seminar got me to thinking about the larger issue of water in the land use context, especially since I need to know where all this water is going to be coming from. When it comes to considering H2O, there's a clear divide between the West and East, as the West must not only keep its sources clean, it must scramble to make sure there will be enough of it to go around to the thirsty hordes that continue to add to the soaring populations that swell the metropolitan areas of the region.

In the West, a series of increasingly audacious plans are sweeping the region in order to quench the thirst of such established metropolises as Denver and Las Vegas, and budding areas like Yuma, Arizona and St. George, Utah. Calling to mind Los Angeles' stealing of Owens Valley water a century ago, Las Vegas, the new Los Angeles, is plotting to construct a 280-mile pipeline from northern Nevada to pump water down south to Sin City. In Yuma, a federal program aims to resuscitate a dormant plan to operate a desalination plant, cleaning the underground water reserves near this Arizona city for use as drinking water. Montana and Wyoming will soon face off in the Supreme Court, contesting claims over use of the Tongue and Powder Rivers. Where is all this lunacy coming from? Well, the answer is simple. The West is dry -- drier than ever. With the aid of omnipresent global warming, the Colorado River, and the snowpacks of the Rockies, both essential suppliers of the West's water, are drying up, supplying less and less to more and more living in the West. As time marches forward, and people continue to move westward, these battles will only grow in intensity.

We tenderfoots in the East don't have it much better. Sure, we get bombarded by northeasters that help to keep the water flowing, and portend global warming sinking us under the sea. But water quality continues to grow in importance. For instance, in the Chesapeake Bay region, policy makers contend with the refuse of one of its most successful industries -- dairy farms. The byproducts of the "machines of industry," the cow, produce vast quantities of manure that largely end up in the Bay. In the suburban and urban areas of Virginia and Maryland, well, another animal contributes its waste to the sea. One program in Pennsylvania takes the concept of pollution credits and puts it to work in the runoff context. Although getting off to a slow start, it is aided by a company called Red Barn, run out of the home of a couple living in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Trained in agricultural engineering, Peter and Molly Hughes' aim is to help farmers and other polluters trade for credits amongst each other, and create a functioning market for the right to deposit nitrates into the water. They are applying their knowledge of water for the gain of its survival.

Water fuels the world around us, and dictates where development goes, and where it goes to die. Westerners are trying to fight for the flow, while Easterners must manage it. Which ever side of the line you find yourself, the fight for clean water will only intensify in the coming decades, as less and less of it is around to use. What's the answer? Like any question revolving around land use, it's hard to say. Especially when I have to get back to drinking my water to stay on pace for my 90-odd ounces each day.

Amateur Hour

2007-04-11T12:36:00.000-04:00

Starting to settle in to the world of land use on Long Island, I stumbled across a story from the hamlet of Fort Salonga, the more affluent section of the school district in which I spent my formative years. Nestled along the northern coast of the island, about halfway out (meaning halfway from "the City," and halfway from "the Hamptons"), the Town of Smithtown Board of Appeals recently denied the Angel's Gate animal hospice an existing-use variance to continue its operation in a private home. Prior to this decision, the Town had rezoned the home, along with the area around the subject residence, in an attempt to push Angel's Gate out of business. The hospice, owned by Susan Marino and Vic LaBruna, are not taking the news like a scared kitty. Designed to offer terminally-ill animals the ability to live out their lives to term, as opposed to suffering the fate of euthanasia, Angel's Gate has garnered an unlikely advocate in its corner. LeBoeuf, Lamb, Greene & MacRae, the gigantic international law firm, has come to the rescue. Filing a lawsuit in March, LeBoeuf has taken up Angel's Gate's cause, as a pro bono case, performing the legal work all on its own dime.

Let's start with this: I would never question the value of LeBoeuf's mission, an honorable task to preserve a seemingly noble enterprise. But honestly, how the heck did this happen? According to Newsday, Long Island's newspaper (which obviously understood the noteworthy quality of the story by printing essentially the same article two days in a row), LeBoeuf undertakes animal rights causes as part of its pro bono platform. Sure, animal rights is an important cause in several circles, but is this the best use of LeBoeuf's ample resources? As one of the most powerful collections of legal minds in the world, where's the support for political types seeking asylum, or wrongly accused inmates sitting on death row? Instead, they throw their very expensive attorneys into a relatively straightforward land use case? According to LeBoeuf's website, they count three of their 700-plus attorneys as working in the arena of land use, and neither of the three appear to devote all of their time in this area. I'm certainly not looking to get LeBoeuf on my bad side, but isn't it a little disingenuous to take on "noble" causes in realms where they barely devote their "real" time? Is land use typically not "quality" enough work to require a department larger than three people? Or is it that in the eyes of LeBoeuf, land use is considered on par with ambulance chasing?

Maybe it's that LeBoeuf has come to realize that land use encompasses the "big issues" of America. Just as Kelo highlighted the point almost two years ago, to ignore land use is to ignore what's going on around you. If it takes an animal hospice to show the LeBoeufs of the world that land use ponders the fundamental legal questions impacting people on a daily basis, well so be it. Sure, they prefer to be involved on the big deals happening in the world of real estate. Such Long Island mega projects as the entertainment and hotel concept in Calverton, out on the east end, appear to be more the speed of the big law firms. But maybe this matter of an animal hospice will open the eyes to more people out there that land use boards around the country shape the way we live day after day after day. If the first thing you hear in the morning is a brood of sick felines wailing on the other side of the fence, it becomes quite important who is in control of determining how to make it stop. Likewise, if your livelihood is to conduct a home business, and a board is threatening your way of life, land use plays a large role in your day-to-day existence. Bringing more novices into the fold of this strange world only furthers the process of demystifying the land use arena, and ultimately strengthens the quality of the decision making for the people impacted.

Affordable Housing, New York Style

2007-04-04T12:44:00.000-04:00

Over this past weekend I was walking the streets of Park Slope, Brooklyn, trying to finish all the things that one needs to do on the weekend when he returns to the working world. In the middle of my errands, a young woman handed me a flyer, offering as an explanation, "Support affordable housing in Brooklyn." Always wanting to be in touch with my surroundings, I rejected my better judgment and took the flyer. As promised, it was an advertisement for a local advocacy group called the Fifth Avenue Committee, and one of their proposals -- a new "affordable housing" project at 575 5th Avenue, intended to cater towards seniors, soon-to-be released foster children who have reached the age of maturity and homeless adults looking to turn the corner. A noble endeavor indeed, but what raised my eyebrows was something considerably more mundane -- the cardstock of the handout. I'm a little more mindful of such details these days, as my wedding invitations will be going out the door in the next few weeks. A few blocks further up the street, another civic-minded type offered me another cause with another accompanying sheet -- this time involving a drive to recycle used electronic equipment. Besides the fact that the fellow was handing me paper in an effort to promote recycling (which seemed counterproductive), he wanted me to take a flimsy white sheet of paper, unlike the fancy, substantial, off-white offering from the affordable housing people. That professionally-prepared advertisement, complete with a picture of the proposed structure, got me to thinking about how (and why) such an outfit could (and would) spend such time, money and effort on such luxurious disposable pleas for help.

The answer got a little clearer when I learned that over in Manhattan, around Columbia University, another unusual proposal is circulating through the grapevine for a potential future rezoning that would impact the neighborhood. Columbia is in the midst of proposing a massive $7 billion expansion into 17 acres of West Harlem, on the current edge of the school's campus. The plan would bring as many as 18 new towers that would dwarf the other surrounding buildings in the otherwise lower-income neighborhood. The Borough President's answer to this infiltration into one of the last "affordable" areas in Manhattan is to rezone the area so as to mandate the preservation of the current scale of the neighborhood. Right now, the area is populated mostly by four- to six-story buildings. Despite the likewise laudable approach, which includes protections against tenant harrassment to vacate their homes and businesses, the plan would not impact Columbia's vision. In addition, developers would be able to build larger-scale structures as long as they provide street-level space to locally-based retail businesses. One current landlord has characterized the plan as "throwing the community a bone so that Columbia can bulldoze the neighborhood."

As in the Park Slope case, how far have these communities really gone to preserve some semblance of "affordability" in New York City? Is this a goal that's really just a lost cause? Of course, all metropolitan regions must contend with the issue of attracting capital to more cost-effective housing and retail options. Even New Orleans, which is facing the problem of attracting capital to any part of the city outside the French Quarter, has tried again to raise the profile of its plight by designating 17 areas in the city as "development areas." With $1.1 billion in financing, which still must be approved, Mayor C. Ray Nagin and the other supporters of the plan, hope that this more modest approach will receive support, and serve as spurs to development for the rest of the city. Sure, without some effort to hold onto that elusive "affordable housing," the cause is completely lost. But what is the true impact of such half-hearted efforts? Have New Yorkers, and those Americans fortunate enough to be able to retain a good home, simply turned their thoughts elsewhere, and given up on the cause? Or is it that it's so hard for the overwhelming majority of Americans to find and hold onto that good home that "affordable housing" itself is just an illusion? When the subject is left to a few like-minded folks, they are forced to focus on fancy fliers, trying to sell to the community the "bones" that are all that is politically feasible.

The answer to these queries, like most involving land use, depend on who you ask. As for me, my solace came a few blocks after the fellow who wanted me to recycle my computer, where I found a pack of Girl Scouts selling their addictive cookies, allowing me the chance to lose myself from such heady subjects in the comfort of a handful of Thin Mints. At least for a little while.

In With The Old . . .

2007-03-28T12:49:00.000-04:00

This week, I’m returning to the practice of law and the land use process, settling in at a firm out on Long Island. I’ve never really left, but being back “in it” every day reminds me of the dynamic way our landscape morphs to the changing needs of metropolitan areas. Even from my office window, high atop the flatness of Long Island, I’ll be able to watch the evolution of the local built environment. As I look forward, it makes me think a lot about time, and its supreme power. My mood takes me to the time gone by, and how it can, for some, cause cruel fates to unfold. Despite its preciousness, it can also be a curse for those who let it get the better of them. Take the current, horrific trend towards foreclosures, particularly for those unfortunate souls who found themselves in the fast-crumbling subprime mortgage market. Sure, these borrowers signed the paperwork that got them in their respective messes, but news continues to trickle out about the predatory nature of some of these loans.

In Shaker Heights, Ohio, where my mother grew up, there is growing trend of vacant houses resulting from foreclosure actions. Once one of the more affluent addresses in the country, it has become tarnished by the proliferation of vacancies. But Shaker Heights, like Euclid, another nearby inner ring suburb of Cleveland, is fighting the trend by keeping up these properties, down to fixing windows and mowing lawns, until the entanglement of the foreclosures can be resolved. Cleveland proper has been fighting this trend of mass vacancies for quite some time. Scavengers and squatters take the place of homeowners. But now the problem has jumped over the city lines to the suburbs, particularly those directly on the other side of those lines. Cuyahoga County, within which lies Cleveland, has seen a huge climb in foreclosures, from 2,500 in 1995 to 15,000 last year. The appalling numbers portend increases to continue. Mayor Judith Rawson of Shaker Heights warns, “It’s a tragedy and it’s just beginning.” The trend not only proves the depths of the subprime mortgage industry’s woes, it also speaks to the larger concern over America’s treatment of its built-up environment, and the difficulty in holding on to the stability of affluence. Affluent Americans are a mobile sort, and continue to seek out the “new.” But what about the “old”? Is there any place for it in our eternal search for the next thing?

The answer of course is yes, if those same affluent types find a reason to get behind the place at risk. One such locale is the Van Dyke farm in South Brunswick, New Jersey, near the New Jersey Turnpike. Threatened by the sprouting of sprawling warehouse complexes along the nearby transportation corridor, the farm and its house, built in 1713, faces extinction. A group called the Eastern Villages Association has embraced the fight for the farm. The threatened tract includes historically significant markers such as a preserved slave quarters, Revolutionary-era gravesites and other artifacts. As one member of the Association explains, “The Van Dyke farm is the proverbial line in the sand, and the state and local government must make sure that no one crosses it.” Of course this is a worthwhile cause – we need to preserve our history. But what of the history of our own lives, and the places where they were lived? Where does the “line in the sand” exist for the suburban ghost towns in between our central cities and the newer, glossier outer suburbs?

Ohio, facing the foreclosure phenomenon, has committed $100 million in bonds to fight the trend of people losing their homes. But as lawmakers note, it is only a “dent” in the problem. Without true commitment from people to just stay put, or actually consider reusing a community or two, it will be a steep hill to climb to hold onto the past. Oddly enough, my mother's childhood home has emerged on the market. Whether it is one of those vacant, foreclosed homes is unclear. But it does stand as an opportunity to hold off the relentless forces of the land use process, if only a buyer will give it chance.

Clean Slate

2007-03-22T02:14:00.000-04:00

For the past week or so I’ve been contending with one of those things that makes you feel, or tells you that you are, old. My back has turned on me, forcing me to inch around my apartment, walking like Frankenstein’s monster -- when I can actually stand. If anything, it has allowed me the chance to watch a lot of Hawaii Five-O, and in between, do a bit of reading. One of my choices was the Historical Atlas of the United States, by Derek Hayes. Studying the evolution of the North American continent from sparsely-inhabited to open space-challenged in a period of five hundred years, the maps and Hayes’ narration got me to thinking about what it would have been like to be around to see the fledgling New Amsterdam settlement, huddled against the southern tip of Manhattan Island, with pastures to the north and oyster shells piled on the shores. What would mission-era Los Angeles have been like, with the expansive basin undeveloped between the small settlement and the shores of the Pacific miles away, with no Wilshire Boulevard or Interstate 10 to connect the two? How about walking the Great Plains, unable to see above the native prairie grasses? Or the Chicago River before it was turned green each year for St. Patrick’s Day? These thoughts have always fascinated me, and the whole idea of starting a city from scratch has intrigued me, if not called me to buy a copy of SimCity.

City building is a continual human endeavor, even today. There will always be the polishing and tinkering performed on all modern cities. Metaphorically, the striving for the “new” will never end. Look at the west side of Chicago, which when I was in college there in the mid-nineties, it was a place to avoid. Now, with the influx of gentrifying forces, it is the place to be, particularly with the razing of Cabrini-Green, one of the most infamous public housing communities in the country. Of course, not everyone has benefited. Nonetheless, the march continues on. Likewise, in the thicket of Long Island, Charles Wang, owner of the New York Islanders and founder of Computer Associates, along with his real estate partner Scott Rechler, are looking to transform the hamlets of Old Bethpage and Plainview with a 166-acre parcel they seek to develop with a number of uses.

But what about entirely new cities rising from the ground in a world where it seems that potential sites have pretty much been exhausted? For instance, about sixty miles north of Los Angeles, along Interstate 5, three massive projects on the existing 270,000 acre Tejon Ranch are making their way through the land use and environmental approval processes. The three developments together would comprise about 50,000 acres, leaving the majority of the ranch intact. However, the magnitude of such a project has raised eyebrows in a region well acquainted with swallowing huge swaths of land for new development. The cornerstone project, Centennial, would include 23,000 homes and all of the amenities required to support a community of approximately 70,000 people. The second project, deemed Tejon Mountain Village, would include 3,500 homes catering towards the second home set. Finally, the third parcel would involve the construction of industrial park facilities. Literally from the ground up, a new city would be born. The approach is well in keeping with Alan Berger’s Drosscape view of urban expansion, where he charts the growing prevalence of communities about 50 miles beyond existing metropolises to serve the distribution needs of our national and international transportation network. (See prior post dated December 5, 2006). The Tejon Ranch plan is also in line with another familiar trend.

This next stage in city building is in some ways an attempt to provide what suburbs did in the last century -– provide that enclave separate and apart from the central city. With Americans increasingly accepting difficult commutes, living 60 miles from the office does not seem out of the question for many. If cheaper housing and quality amenities are present, the dream of “escape” has been granted again. When new settlers first planted themselves on Manhattan, and on the banks of the Chicago River and in the Los Angeles Basin, in some ways they also sought such an “escape,” to forge their own paths, and create something new. For me, I’m perfectly happy accepting my fate of being "old," at least when it comes to my choice of address. Following the trail of millions of others over the last five hundred years, I'm content to remain planted in Brooklyn. Not to mention, my back shouts to me to preserve it a bit longer, and avoid the sixty-mile commute each way.

Line in the Sand

2007-03-14T17:13:00.000-04:00

This week, after years of anticipation, I received my Hawaii Five-O first season DVD set. Depending how things go, hopefully the powers that be over at CBS DVD recognize the sagacity in releasing the subsequent seasons of the hit crime drama starring Jack Lord that ran from 1968 to 1980. Throwing in the first of the seven-disc set, I started watching the episode entitled “Strangers in Our Own Land,” a nod to the lament of encroaching development in the islands, to which the show greatly contributed. People watching the beauty and mystery of the islands wanted to see them in person, which stimulated a boom in hotel, commercial and residential building across the archipelago. There was a poignant moment during this episode which points to a specific issue still raging in land use circles today. Simon Oakland, playing the Hawaiian Benny Kalua, looks over a vantage point in the backyard of a home in the hills above Honolulu. He motions towards the then-new towers of Waikiki Beach, showing the clear divide between the retained greenery in the hills and the concrete jungle shoved along the narrow manmade beach below. Hawaii, buoyed by its need to preserve the natural beauty of the islands, has since instituted strict land use controls over its territory. It rides a careful balance between the demands of its tourists for amenities and natural resources. But what about elsewhere? How do other locales draw their own lines in the sand?

One example is the Urban Growth Boundary of Portland, Oregon, a line that keeps development, to a large extent, within the metro area’s borders. Other localities around the country have adopted similar measures, including Minneapolis, Minnesota, and Lexington, Kentucky. The same is true on the eastern side of the country in Miami-Dade County, Florida, where in 1983, county officials drew a line to stem the tide of development in the fast-growing area. This month, the county will release a new report that will support the preservation of the Urban Development Boundary, or UDB as they call it, until at least 2025. The line encourages development inside its orbit, while beyond it a hefty five-acre minimum lot size is required for new houses. Those on the outside looking in have voiced a common complaint over these lines in the sand, seeing an opportunity to revisit the county's UDB. Watching neighbors on the inside reap the benefits of selling off their holdings, and seeing the resultant big box stores and housing developments rising above their crops, these property owners, oftentimes farmers, wonder why they shouldn’t participate in the bonanza. This question will continue to rage amongst those most closely impacted by where the line is drawn. But just like any land use regulatory framework, think the lines dividing zoning districts, the boundaries have to go somewhere.

The farmers of south Florida cannot compare to those that simply choose to disregard such lines in the sand. It shouldn’t be a surprise that one of these mavericks is Google, the internet giant based in the Silicon Valley of California. The San Francisco region has several of its own urban growth lines, in an attempt to bring order to its explosive growth. Google has decided to ignore them, operating in an industry where lines matter less and less. To attract the top workers from the area, Google now offers an expansive shuttle bus service, which services 1,200 of its employees a day across 230 miles of routes. The buses offer comfortable seating and wireless internet access, so that "Googlers" can keep on working before and after they’re in the office, and more importantly from a land use perspective, decide to live just about anywhere they desire in the region. “Googlers” are locating around the shuttle stops dotted across the metropolitan area, to take advantage of the huge perk in a traffic-snarled region. Flying along in the high occupancy highway lanes, these vaulted workers pass across a multitude of lines evicerated in the process. Sure, carpooling is a laudable approach, people should have the right to be mobile and the housing situation in Silicon Valley is well-chronicled as almost impossible, but is Google's approach a model to follow or a luxury reserved for megacorporations? Does it help or hinder attempts to preserve the integrity of the lines in the sand?

The simple truth is that despite the value of drawing lines in the sand, ultimately, someone is going to come along with a way to exploit them, or bypass them altogether, exhibiting little regard for their careful placement. Then what is the answer to halting the march of new development in a carved-out enclave? The answer may lie in bypassing the question altogether, and rather than trying to keep the strangers out altogether, find a way to integrate them into the existing framework. Hawaiians seemed to have found that careful balance by welcoming newcomers, within defined parameters. Likewise, in Portland, the Urban Growth Boundary has been periodically readjusted to allow for more acreage to fall within its orbit. With principled flexibility, the new and old can come together to create a whole new place, that retains the kernel of the original, and prevents any worries of being “Strangers in Our Own Land.”

Do You Want Ecology With That?

2007-03-07T13:36:00.000-05:00

With Al Gore and his team of filmmakers on “The Inconvenient Truth” winning the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature at this year’s Academy Awards, the issue of global warming became the resident cause for Hollywood types. At least for one day, the Academy acknowledged the problem, asserting that they had for the first time conducted a “completely green” telecast. What that means is unclear, and now that they’re on to the next thing, along with the next Oscar cycle, the entertainment community’s impact on the subject appears to have faded as quickly as people’s memories of who won which award. It doesn’t mean, however, that we land use types can’t think about the role our industry can play in the fight for environmental preservation. Historically, new additions to the built up environment and ecology have been mutually exclusive to one another. However, within the last few decades, this landscape has changed with the demands governments and consumers have placed on land use planning and building practices that help to alleviate the environmental impacts new development projects have on existing fauna, flora and other natural resources within the site’s orbit.

For instance, in El Salvador, the development company Lomas de Santa Elena has initiated a mega project called Emerald Ecozone, a multi-use development planned to be constructed in seventeen stages, with the first ten to be completed by next year. Located in the southern town of Cuscatalan, the project aspires “to inspire human interaction with nature and maintain a balanced ecosystem.” To achieve this goal, the developer is seeking to recreate El Imposible, the nation’s national park, within the confines of the development, to provide open space that the new residents of the gated community may enjoy. Putting aside the jokes of whether this effort is “possible,” the developer seeks to cater towards native Salvadorians who have spent time in the United States, and are now seeking an attractive retirement locale. In addition to the proposed parkland, the developer also plans to install solar paneling, encourage recycling, and abide by “eco-architecture” tenets.

In the United States, the green building movement has gained momentum in the last decade. The U.S. Green Building Council (USGBC), a consortium of development constituencies, oversees the LEED, or Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design, certification process. Introduced in 1998, the LEED system sets forth a common standard of measurement for new projects in meeting environmentally-friendly guidelines while still remaining economically profitable. The multi-point system ranges over a spectrum of sustainability, from a project being “Certified,” to it being at “Platinum” level. The USGBC measures for site development sustainability, water savings, energy efficiency, materials selection and indoor environmental quality. The LEED seal of approval, although not legally required, provides additional cache for new developments seeking to cater towards tenants and purchasers who are increasingly conscious of these ratings. With the high level of participation among development interests, the LEED process has grown in importance, and dictates a growing percentage of construction in America.

The movement towards more sustainable construction practices must warm the heart of Al Gore, who has made clear that although changes must be made to stem the tide of global warming, they can be done without completely changing our accepted way of life. Green building and sustainable site choices appear to be one step in the right direction. But without a clear guiding hand, how successful are these ad hoc approaches? Can Emerald Ecozone really achieve its goals of engineering “an environment where people live in harmony with nature”? Isn’t it really just another attempt to exploit untapped natural resources for the benefit of the privileged classes? And what about the sector of the industry that still operates without interest in the LEED certification process? How do we bring the entire industry tighter into the orbit of sustainable practices? Should this even be done, considering that environmentally-friendly construction may only be attainable for people who have the money to pay for it?

Behind all of these questions is the inconvenient truth that there are no easy answers. But with the wind heading in the direction of green practices, incremental change may lead towards a critical mass of shifting policy that will bring meaningful results for our sick planet. This week, Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, along with Senator Barbara Boxer, both Californians, initiated the “Green the Capitol” initiative, a plan to investigate how to improve the environmental conduct of Congressional operations. Pelosi and Boxer have set an April 30th deadline to hear back from Congress' chief administrative officer on findings and approaches. As with the other changes sought by the Democratic-controlled Congress, only time will tell -- just like when Pelosi and Boxer's fellow Californians await who "the Oscar goes to."

Bring on the Gloss

2007-02-28T15:46:00.000-05:00

My fiancé, perfectly happy with our new location in Park Slope, Brooklyn, nonetheless has begun thinking about the next home. I don’t blame her, of course, since it’s time we start planning to join the ranks of homeowners. Predictably, our current neighborhood is not in our price range – at least for the type of home in which we envision ourselves. With that reality, my fiancé has explored other places that may fit our needs at a more affordable price. The neighborhood she has pinpointed, and thus become enamored with, is Red Hook, an area rough around the edges along the Brooklyn waterfront. It’s what realtors like to call a “transitional area,” a place at the edge of New York’s line of gentrification. We find ourselves over in Red Hook from time to time, to enjoy one of those outposts in the trend towards glossiness – the Fairway specialty supermarket. As we drive through the changing landscape of Red Hook, my thoughts often stray towards the matter of neighborhood upheaval, and the constant change areas face as the needs of a metropolitan region shift and morph.

Back in our former home of Los Angeles, Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa has unveiled two ambitious plans to revitalize the city’s moribund downtown. The Grand Avenue Project, comprising three acres across from the Frank Gehry-designed Walt Disney Concert Hall, will include residential units, retail and commercial space, all designed by Gehry. Along with the development, the project calls for a 16-acre park to stretch through the heart of the downtown district. Gehry has called the plan an “attempt to find” a downtown for the sprawling metropolis. On the southern end of downtown, work continues on the Los Angeles Sports and Entertainment District, which will expand and integrate with the existing Staples Center and Los Angeles Convention Center next door to create a mega-complex of entertainment spaces, residential units, hotels and restaurants. Together, the two projects seek to polish the image of Los Angeles’ "downtown," an elusive concept in a region of decentralized nodes scattered across a vast basin.

Amongst this chaos is the trend of people moving into the L.A. downtown area, adding a significant number of residents over the last several years. Out of a more organic movement, people have decided to populate this once desolate area after dark and form a viable community. Also included in the equation is “Skid Row,” the stretch of homeless service centers downtown that has created a colony of homeless persons occupying the area, not to mention the place for hospitals to dump destitute patients. On top of these realities is being placed the glossy image of the mythical downtown, which creates a question as to what will define this intricate neighborhood a decade from now. Predictions point to a Skid Row squeeze, and the rise of another area oozing with “desirability.” Granted, all types of neighborhoods are required in a bustling, thriving metropolis, including a grand nexus of commerce and open space, to celebrate and define the place. And who doesn't like glossy things to look at and enjoy? But are these the kind of projects to which public entities should devote its resources, and support in their efforts towards viability? Los Angeles has devoted tens millions of dollars in support for the two construction projects, mostly in the form of below market leases and tax rebates. This question is particularly acute considering downtown Los Angeles has already seen an evolving trend towards community without the proposed mega developments. Wouldn't it still be economically profitable to build as proposed without the added incentives?

On the other side of the proverbial tracks, in the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, a neighborhood is rising above the floods – at least it’s trying. Last week, the nonprofit organization Acorn, in conjunction with loans from a California bank and support from Andres Duany, a Miami-based New Urbanist architect and planner deep in the Gulf reconstruction process, completed the first new homes in the neighborhood since Hurricane Katrina. Although admirable, the hopes of these pilot projects stimulating a return of the rest of the neighborhood are guarded at best. There are significant commitments from government funds for the Gulf region, but it is still unclear whether any of these resources will reach the Lower Ninth Ward. Without fancy towers or theater spaces, the reality of a neighborhood rebirth seems far out of reach.

When it comes to revitalizing a neighborhood, there are many avenues to follow across a spectrum of public and private support. Sometimes it makes good sense for localities to stimulate development using various incentives at their disposal. But regardless of how it's done, the simple matter of green must be present for a project to proceed. Be it downtown Los Angeles or Red Hook, Brooklyn, it takes the will of money to get anything done, and only then will the development follow. Money doesn’t flow towards projects that only serve to house people who work hard for little in return. At least, not enough. This isn't exactly a new problem, but it certainly hasn't been solved. And the bottom line reason behind it all is that such projects simply aren't glossy enough. The prestige of landmark level construction or of creating "the next Park Slope" is what draws the support. So while downtown Los Angeles and Red Hook, Brooklyn see bright futures, Skid Row and the Lower Ninth Ward face gloomy outlooks – until, of course, the will of money pushes into these neighborhoods, no doubt seeking a way to bring in the gloss and clear away their “undesirable” pasts.

That Infernal Car

2007-02-21T15:49:00.000-05:00

Okay, so maybe last week I was hasty in my musings on spring. We’re not quite there yet. The surest sign is every time I use the car, which luckily at the moment, occurs only a few times a week. I’m still adjusting to the street parking routine, with cleaning schedules and other land mines that may lead to a ticket. And maybe I’m a little too concerned about the whole process. But this is by far the worst time of year when it comes to finding somewhere to shove the car for free. The winter ritual of digging oneself out of a parking spot, and then, upon returning, sliding one’s way back into a space heaping with the snow and ice left to thaw at its own pace is my most hated of chores. Go ahead and laugh, all you Sunbelt types out there, but I’m sure you have your gripes about driving – particularly traffic. Wish you had a developed public transportation system now, don’t you?

Once the car is out and on the road, and I have the opportunity to reach a speed above forty, I must say that it is a marvel to have a network of highways that crisscross New York, and, for the most part, help us get from place to place a little faster than we would fighting the pedestrians and traffic lights of local routes. (Yes, we must acknowledge Robert Moses’s contribution). Sure, we’ve paid for this right by wreaking havoc on neighborhoods and contributing to global warming, among other ills. But what if we had to pay a little more? Or even a lot more? Maybe it would discourage a few of us from getting behind the wheel, and instead hopping aboard a bus or a train. In London, this question faces immediate scrutiny as the metropolitan region prepares to expand its existing system of charging all cars the privilege to enter the central city each day. The region will be requiring a $15.60 toll to all motorists who drive to additional portions of the city, in an effort to reduce congestion. Figures indicate that in the four years the mechanism has been in place, traffic has been reduced by 10 percent. Despite the success, a national campaign resulted in 1.5 million signatures opposed to the plan. Old habits won’t drive quietly into that good night.

Similar systems are being tried in Stockholm, and also the United States. Houston, Minneapolis and Denver are attempting to encourage people to ride instead of drive by charging for the right to guzzle their share of gas. In Orange County, California, just south of Los Angeles, State Route 91 has instituted a plan to charge motorists the privilege to drive in its express lanes, at a graduated range of prices, depending on the time of day. During rush hour periods, a driver must pay $9.25 to traverse its H.O.T., or high occupancy toll lanes, while the middle of the day price is just over a dollar. For those not willing to shell out the toll, they must run the risk of traffic in the “free” lanes.

These “congestion pricing” systems offer a glimpse into the future, as another way to get people out of the driver’s seat. Unusually enough, the Bush administration is in support of these approaches, devoting $130 million to them in his proposed budget for 2008. Aside from the environmental and traffic volume benefits, congestion pricing also appeals to the economist in all of us, assigning an economic rationality approach to the choice of whether or not to drive. Advocated by 1996 Nobel laureate William Vickrey, a Columbia University economist, charging people to use a public highway would build in additional costs to counterbalance the deleterious effects of this decision.

With a recent report noting that a larger percentage of commuters to Manhattan come from the outer boroughs of New York City, as opposed to the suburbs, than previously thought, maybe it is time to start thinking about ways to encourage more people to use public transportation. Drawn by free parking and free access to Manhattan, it is hard to see why New Yorkers would not take advantage. But if it wasn’t free, and not so advantageous, maybe trends would change. And people would leave their cars on the street, even in the middle of the summer, and hop onto a bus or subway train, because the pain in the pocket book would be just as biting as spending a half hour to dig oneself out of a snow bank. Then again, maybe not, as evidenced by the London reaction. And what about the metropolitan regions without quality public transportation systems? It’s a hard sell, no doubt, but one that requires serious attention, and the incremental steps like the ones taking place, as we move towards a post-petroleum world and think about the way our built up environment must adapt to this inevitability.

Three Simple Words to End the Winter Blues

2007-02-15T16:39:00.000-05:00

Last week we were on the eastern coast of Iceland, lamenting the cold. A lot can happen in a week. Aside from a snow storm that whipped its way through New York, this week also ushered in hopes of spring being just around the corner. Three simple words have done that: pitchers and catchers. For those needing further explanation, the first major leaguers are heading to Florida and Arizona to jump start another baseball season. The smell of hot dogs and peanuts can’t be far behind. While I wait beside a snow bank, I’ve been thinking about the landscape of New York baseball. Aside from the prospects on the field for my beloved Mets, both they and the Yankees are impacting the land use world. Both teams are in the middle of constructing new stadiums to house their games and fans.

Over in Queens, the Mets are building their new structure in the parking lot of their current home, Shea Stadium. Slated to open in 2009, and called Citi Field, the new edifice will replicate Ebbets Field, the old home of the Brooklyn Dodgers, supplemented with the modern bells and whistles required by any modern-day sporting venue. Likewise, across the river in the Bronx, the Yankees have broken ground on New Yankee Stadium, which will also be completed in 2009. After years of wrangling with government officials, mostly over ways to finance the new enterprises, the Mets and Yankees have each committed the money to build the projects. The Yankees did secure some public financing, to construct public facilities around the park. But by and large, the applicable governments were able to repel the urge to contribute directly to constructing these new sports stadiums. The matter has been addressed in various outlets over the past twenty years, with many commentators and researchers concluding that government should not be in the stadium building business. Putting that over worn debate aside, these two examples also demonstrate that structures supporting sports teams are very much like any other proposed, large project with significant impacts on a neighborhood. The same calculation of costs and benefits must be balanced to achieve a satisfactory, albeit never perfect, result.

Not too long ago I found myself at the local Barnes & Noble, perusing a book about the origins of place names in Brooklyn. On one of its neighborhood maps, the book revealed the site of the original Ebbets Field. Not more than a mile or two away from my home, the classic baseball setting has since been replaced with affordable housing towers. Sure, this all happened back in the ‘50’s, but there are plenty of Brooklyn denizens who still haven’t gotten over it. Added to annals of New York baseball, the prior home of the Dodgers before Ebbets Field, Washington Park, used to be located practically around the corner from my home. The only vestige that remains is a wall from an old horse carriage shed that serviced the park. Con Edison, the electrical outfit, owns the site today. A pending city Landmarks Preservation Commission review will determine the wall’s fate. But nonetheless, being so close to hallowed ground, where Ty Cobb and Cy Young once played, only raises the significance of the neighborhood during a week such as this.

Aside from the ghosts of former Hall of Fame players haunting my neighborhood, the curse of former Mets has also infiltrated the world of land use. Mo Vaughn, who came to the Mets providing hopes of solid production for seasons to come, promptly broke down in a little over a season in 2003. But today, he remains planted in New York, running a development company that refurbishes affordable housing complexes. It seems land use and baseball are intimately intertwined, at all levels and in every nook and cranny. This should not come as any great surprise, however. The game itself relies on matters of a little white ball’s place in space. A ball or strike turns on its location, as does a foul or fair ball – just as critical as the location of a new development. Maybe that’s why I still hold onto my love for a game I haven’t played since Little League, because I can wrap it inside the interests that carry me through as an adult. Or maybe it’s just because I really have a yearning for a bag of ballpark peanuts.

If You Think It's Cold Here . . .

2007-02-07T13:39:00.000-05:00

Everything is relative. This maxim is never truer than when it comes to weather. Here in New York, we’re, as they say, freezing our back sides off. (Well, most New Yorkers would add a little flavor to that statement). Yesterday I woke up to move the car bright and early, and noticed that the car’s thermometer read thirteen degrees. A short drive away, a bank’s sign claimed the temperature was ten degrees cooler. Whichever one was closest to the actual temperature, my memories of living in Los Angeles, and playing golf in shorts this time of year quickly crept back into my thoughts. But aside from the obvious sigh of relief that the world isn’t quite prepared to end on account of global warming, the cold also got me to thinking about the northern edges of the planet, and what goes on there when it comes to land use. Being back in the Arctic blast zone, I wonder if things are any different “up there,” and search for solace that somewhere it has to be colder than here.

Iceland, a country of fabulous landscapes and a unique cultural heritage, must be colder than New York. And despite having “ice” in its name, well, it’s not necessarily colder. Today’s high temperature in Reykjavik, the capital, is over 30 degrees. That blows that theory. But what about how Iceland grapples with land use questions? In the eastern part of the island country, which is colder than Reykjavik (and the interior highlands being still colder, thank you very much), the aluminum producer Alcoa is constructing an enormous smelting plant. Powered by a hydroelectric power infrastructure constructed specifically for the new facility, Alcoa’s plant will use eight times the nation’s current total electrical consumption. Aside from the environmental imposition on a part of the world where reindeer outnumber people, the plant has spawned a building boom in the existing, surrounding towns. For instance, aside from an increase in the building of new homes, Reydarfjordur, population 650, just had its first mall open in town.

As is always the case when a new project comes to town, not everyone’s happy. In 2001, the project received approval from the central government’s environmental minister, even though the Icelandic Planning Agency rejected the proposal. Citizens have voiced their objections to the plant, from prominent writers and journalists to the locals in the eastern region directly impacted by the facility. Environmental concerns have not been the only basis for opposition. Some believe that bringing in outside corporations as the main economic development tool for the nation hinders the growth of native-bred enterprises. But as with any debate, there must be another side. Alcoa points out that it has the cleanest facility of its type in the world, by a wide margin. Also, Iceland, under the Kyoto Protocol, which regulates greenhouse gas emissions in most parts of the world except the U.S., has ample emission allowances for this project, as well as for the other aluminum plants slated to join Alcoa’s facility in Iceland. Finally, the new plant has already brought increased prosperity for the eastern region. One of the locals in revitalized Reydarfjordur, while shopping at the new mall, explains regarding the plant, “It’s not beautiful, but I accept it because it’s necessary.”

With any land use choice, it’s hard to choose a side, particularly when the stakeholders are all huddled around the Arctic Circle. But even though they’re located in the great north, the issues that impact Icelanders up there are very much like the ones faced down here whenever a new project comes before a planning body’s scrutiny. That same balance between benefits and impacts must be drawn. And especially this time of year, as we “southerners” must don our heavy parkas, it’s that much easier to relate.

The New, New Thing (Well, Not That New), Part II

2007-01-31T14:05:00.000-05:00

Greenbelt, Maryland, a New Deal-era development twelve miles outside of Washington, DC, faces the need to modernize. Built in the 1930’s, Greenbelt was modeled on the “garden city” concept, which was pioneered by utopian thinker Ebenezer Howard back at the beginning of the twentieth century. Two other similar settlements exist outside Cincinnati and Milwaukee. Greenbelt was designed as a self-contained community separated from existing development by a green space buffer. Its architects advocated, and executed, a mixed-use environment whereby residents could live, work and play within a compact community. For the most part, the settlement has survived the pressures of creeping development. Nonetheless, the stream of traffic generated by the Beltway loop highway flows near the site, sucking the area into the orbit of sprawl. However, two new developments, if built, would reshape the town into a place with double the people. As one of the developers describes it, “You can live, work and shop there. . . . We’re basically building a new town.”

But are they really? Sure, they’ll be new stuff there, including thousands more residential units and oodles of square feet of commercial space. The existing Metro train station located next to one of the planned developments will no doubt receive a welcome facelift. There are some obvious benefits to the new. But in the end, it’s the same product stuffed into new packaging. Instead of “garden city,” we can call the new improvements to Greenbelt an example of “New Urbanism,” the current movement among a certain percentage of design professionals. But the two approaches, although separated by a century, resemble the same mixed-use, compact development, public-transit oriented principles to land use planning. What has worked before can work again, goes the mantra. And why shouldn’t it? Despite the revolutionary changes to daily life over the last century, people fundamentally want to have easy access to their work places, a safe neighborhood, and maybe even have a few things to do within close proximity. People, if given the option, would probably even walk more than most do. As a recent transplant to Brooklyn, I’m already finding that having ten restaurants within a block’s walk (for the delivery guy, too) is very good thing.

But aside from the polishing of the garden city concept in Greenbelt, another revision to long-held views appears to be developing up the coast here in New York. This week, there will be three exhibits around the city taking another look at the man who could fairly be called the Creator of Modern New York, the Power Broker himself, Robert Moses. Having control over the city’s parks department and the Triborough Bridge and Tunnel Authority, Moses constructed much of the current infrastructure that the region’s cars use as parking lots, and sometimes as highways. He also orchestrated the construction of such public jewels as Lincoln Center and the United Nations. Parks and housing he constructed still survive and thrive. He also displaced hundreds of thousands of people, ruined neighborhoods and exercised exclusionary tactics towards minorities. The new exhibits choose to take the long view, blurring the ugliness and highlight from afar the ballet-like qualities of traffic moving across his parkways, and the architectural accents of his structures. Just as Moses himself saw “the city” as a skyline rather than the people that stand dwarfed at street level, the new approach harkens back to the time when urban renewal wasn’t a bad word. Hopefully the exhibit organizers remember a bit from the lessons of the past.

Let enough time pass, and the old becomes new again. But like a pair of Jordache jeans from the ‘80’s, just because they’re back in style doesn’t mean you should pull that old pair back out and wear them with your favorite top from the era. The old is only new again if it changes with the times.

The New, New Thing (Well, Not That New)

2007-01-24T19:18:00.000-05:00

The other day, while perusing the offerings at the local Barnes & Noble, I came across an intriguing new publication, at least one that I had not seen previously. It’s called The Next American City, a periodical created in 2003 and which publishes four times a year. I picked up the Winter 2006 edition, with a cover article on immigration and its impact on cities. Not a one-note affair, the issue also tackles such far-ranging urban questions as the Canadian Geese problem of New Jersey, and toilet legislation in Portland, Oregon. The brainchild of The Next American City, Inc., a “not-for-profit organization founded by a new generation of urban thinkers and leaders to promote a new vision of socially and environmentally sustainable economic growth in America’s cities and suburbs,” the magazine sets lofty goals for its purpose. Even the New York Times proclaims that the group has started a “subtle plan to change the world.” I wish them luck in their pursuit, aiding in their grand vision by promptly signing up for a subscription.

Of course, the whole idea of what a “city” is and should be has received the attention of thinkers and leaders for quite some time. The Greek thinker Thucydides wrote that “men make the city.” Shakespeare likewise noted, “What is the city but the people?” Even the love/hate relationship we have with our urban environments has passed through the ages. The Roman writer Horace described the phenomenon in connection with his home city: “In Rome you long for the country; in the country – oh inconstant! – you praise the distant city to the stars.” And those that have devoted their lives to cities have discovered the basic truths. Jane Addams of Hull House fame wrote, “Private beneficence is totally inadequate to deal with the vast numbers of the city’s disinherited.” And the insensitivity towards the city has been a constant. Take Former Vice President Spiro Agnew, who once proclaimed on a campaign stop, “if you’ve seen one city slum you’ve seen them all.”

The most fabulous thing about cities is that they are one of those phenomena that neither goes out of style, nor reaches a level of complete understanding. It’s not like polio, or the source of a seemingly endless river – there is no “answer” to the issues surrounding cities, only choices that will either make things better, or create more problems, or some combination of both. Sure, you can solve the toilet shortage problem in an area by installing more of them, or rid yourselves of an influx of Canadian Geese by poisoning them. But determining the big questions, square among them matters of land use, a metropolitan area must weigh the impacts, which are inevitable and unavoidable, and calculate the lesser of evils.

For instance, the developer Bruce Ratner, who recently purchased the New Jersey Nets, will be constructing a mega complex of retail and residential construction, along with a new arena for his basketball team, just up the street from my new home in Brooklyn. Residents have voiced their objections to the disruption that the construction will cause, and the eventual traffic concerns caused by the arena. Ratner and the city have touted the economic benefits that the new development will bring, and the prestige for Brooklyn in once again serving as the home for a major league sports team. Either way, who’s right? Not knowing the answer is what makes such questions interesting in its endless permutations, just like a debate on sports talk radio about the Nets could turn in a multiplicity of directions.

So I look forward to another voice such as The Next American City, as we continue to attempt to answer the unanswerable questions facing cities and their future.

Times Remembered, Times Lost

2007-01-17T22:25:00.000-05:00

As a youth, I spent much of my time in Kings Park, New York, a sleepy suburban burg tucked along the northern shore of Long Island, about fifty miles east of Manhattan. All of my family members have since relocated to other places, but for some reason the hometown retains a special place in my heart. Aside from the good school system (which produced such luminaries as Houston Astros great Craig Biggio and members of the metal group Dream Theater) and a relatively good location for commuters to New York City, the other claim to fame for my hometown is the enormous state mental health facility that occupied about 450 acres of prime real estate, including along the water. In its heyday in the mid-1950’s, the facility held over 9,000 patients, and required a small army of workers to man it. When it closed in 1996, the great news, and anticipation, would be what the State decided to do with the property. For several years the belief was that the tract would be sold to developers, and a massive residential and commercial building spree would commence.

In a classic example of NIMBY concerns at work, the hamlet mobilized, behind organized citizens groups. Local politicians joined the crusade to stop the construction. After it was discovered that Kings Park lacked a local sewer system (something that any resident could have told anyone who cared to ask), and that the site had some serious environmental remediation issues, the desirability of the site waned. Still there was potential that the development would occur. Then, just after Christmas, the State announced that it would transfer the overwhelming majority of the property to the State Parks Department, and that the dedicated swath would join its neighbor, the Nissequogue River State Park. As told to the New York Times in a small blip of story in its Sunday Real Estate section, the players in the process were shocked, and had little idea that this would be the result of ten years of anticipation.

This is where the New York Times lost its interest in the story. The writer no doubt had to hop back on the Long Island Railroad and make it back in time for her deadline. But the surprising nature of the pronouncement begs a number of questions intertwined with the land use process itself. Mainly, the State’s foot-dragging in making a determination should have tipped the Neighbors and Town officials that the State was having difficulties trying to convince a developer to purchase the property. If these folks were really involved in the process, wouldn’t they have known?

Beyond this query, the real lesson from Kings Park is that in the pursuit to regulate what can and cannot be done, and what does and does not get built, it is ultimately the property owner who is in control, and everyone else interested in what happens must wait to see what the owner decides to do. It is an actor/reactor symbiosis, and until the owner makes some type of affirmative action, everyone else needs to wait. This simple order of things causes much of the frustration for those participating in the land use process. The waiting can be endless, or in the Kings Park case, ten years, which is pretty long, too. Functioning within the land use arena requires a substantial helping of patience. Sometimes it takes people time to make up their mind, particularly when they’re public servants, and particularly when the decision involves the future of an entire town, no matter how much ink devoted to it by the New York Times.