Darlings

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.

The Big Picture

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.

Water, Water, Everywhere -- Or Not

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.