Urban Renewal/Gentrification

I had a quick conversation with someone on “the” twitter last night. C had attended a meeting dealing with some form urban renewal for the local DM district where her husband manages a business. Now, I wasn’t there but the gist of the meeting was about the removal or transformation of some of the blighted areas around their business.

Their place is a converted… something. The building used to be several other things and business, mostly involving some kind of repair, production, or construction facility. They have slowly converted it into (by getting sub-renters and badgering their slow to act landlord) a usable office space and bohemian community center. No small feat for people with little start-up capital and probably little to no government assistance.

Currently the building is still partially converted, with office spaces and nice wooden floors in the front that begin to deteriorate quickly as you move further into the unfinished part of the building. But, they keep working (and badgering) to get the place completed.

Their building is situated in a lower income part of town. It used to be an industrial park of some kind that was shut down as heavy industry moved out of DM. The area that is left is occupied by a large city vehicle storage area. It is desolate and what one would come to expect in area that has suffered from a large national economic shift away from industry. Obviously they would like the place cleaned up a bit.

And this brings us back to the discussion on what should be done in these areas. Because the land prices and economic activity is depressed, rent is cheap in the area. This allows people with small amounts of start-up capital to find places to rent and set up shop. When areas like this are cleaned up and gentrified, the riff raff is forced out. Land values rise and this is good for those that own business, but not so great for those who rent. When land becomes valuable, rent goes up and it can force out all of the people who “pioneered” the place in the beginning.

While this is probably not as big a concern in their particular case as it is an industrial area and most people own, as opposed to rent, it can be a great conundrum in areas that have large residential populations.

The majority of people who live in un-gentrified areas of the city are probably poor and also rent. While it is nice for people to clean up areas of the city, this will raise rent values as more and more… white… people decide they don’t want to live in the suburbs and want to live in a nicer area of the city. Eventually, through rent raises, the poorer citizens (who have not found ways to increase their incomes to compensate for their raising rents) are forced out and neighborhoods are destroyed.

And so the city planner is caught in a terminal bind. Do you want to make this area a “nice” place? And are we willing to force out age-old communities and force poorer people to move to do this? Or do you leave a place to rot in stagnation?

I suppose that this quickly becomes a question that no one can definitively answer without gauging the specific situations consequences. Although I think the consequences to poorer renting communities are easily glossed over in the quest for higher land values and positive cash flows. Plus there is an inherent positive nature associated with the idea of “cleaning up” rough parts of the city regardless of the consequences.

I consulted an urban planning book from a class I took a few years ago and it remains silent on this issue. It talks about the need for “affordable housing” and leaves it at that.

Hunting I: Friday and Saturday Morning

A few weekends ago I went hunting.
I think that it was a nice refresher from the intense college work. It was a weekend where there I was transported from DM to a town of approximately 600 people. No Internet. I kept my cell phone off most of the time as it was nice to unplug. No responsibility either. As I left the DM area all semblance of “trying to study this weekend” slipped away.

Friday night we both head in to town to watch the local high school fall in eight-man football to some other small town in Iowa of which I have never head. It was some consolidated school. There was no fence at the field either, fans were actively recruited to go up to the edge of the track and watch the action (and yell at any call the ref made that did not resoundingly support the home team). Over the din you could hear the sharp crack of plastic battle armor as these high school students put their full effort in to crushing their enemy. No matter how many times the home team scored, the opposing army would march down, score, and maintain their healthy lead.

We left with 5 minutes to go in the 4th quarter and drove to the local bar. We sat and drank until one, all the while engaging in various bar games and conversation.

Saturday… 5… 5:30am. You have to get up early, that is when the deer are most mobile. We shake off our collective hangovers and put on layer after layer of clothes. Even though it is approaching 45 degrees, we are encased in coveralls, coats, wool socks, and masks. The world is much colder when you are not moving and exposed up in a tree. The drive out to the stand is uneventful; we see a few deer prance around as the sun begins to think about coming up.

When we get out of the car we prepare ourselves by hiding our scent. A spray bottle that is a mix of cornstarch and other materials will help partially mask our smell. Breath is taken care of with “honey alfalfa” chewing gum which actually tastes pretty good.

Properly disguised, we march out to the stand. Dried leaves and corn stalks break beneath our boots as we conspicuously move. I try to avoid making too much noise, but sounds are produced with every single step. Once we make it to the stand, we bait it and climb up to the top.

Where we wait.

From here we can survey our vast empire. Two tree lines connect creating a L-shape that acts as a wind barrier for a field. We are situated on the “top” of the L, overlooking the corner that it creates. Mist hangs in the air over the freshly harvested field.

It is impossible to tell time while we are out there. The world slows to a crawl as I watch each individual layer of mist burn off. I pass in and out of consciousness. It is partially from the remnants of the beer, partially because I am not used to such a slow pace of action.

I am woken with a start: “Deer”.

I don’t move. Behind a tree I see a deer twice my size move out from under most of its cover. I watch this animal elegantly move with a stealth that seems impossible. Drawn closer, it moves painfully slowly (as if it were aware it was being watched) toward the kill zone. I can hear K’s thoughts, “Come on you fucker, keep comin’.”

To be honest, I can’t remember if K draws or not. Despite all the tricks and deer-like sounds we make, the animal freezes contemplating his next action. After a beat we can tell that he smells us. The deer snorts in contempt, shakes his head, and bounds away to the safety of the tree barrier.

Nuts. Not all is lost. After the rest of the uneventful morning, we dismount the stand and make our way back to the car and decide to steal eggs from K’s uncle (or some such other relative). After a few quick turns on these back roads, we arrive at a house with a small chicken coop outside. This adventure too only results in a loss as the eggs have already been confiscated by their rightful owner.