SustainFloyd next Weekend

We visited Floyd last month and really can't wait to go back again.

From friend Fred's blog:

After a successful assembly at the foot of Buffalo Mountain for a drizzly-foggy October 10th “350 climate action”, SustainFloyd now looks ahead to the first community festival of its kind in the county, the SplitRail Eco-Fair, to celebrate ecologically-sustainable aspects of agriculture, arts, commerce, education and life together in vibrant community in a changing world.fragmentsfromfloyd.com, Fragments From Floyd, Oct 2009
Read the rest here

YouTube video of Buffalo Mountain assembly

Really wish I could go, but probably won't make it. It's a rather busy time for me right now - but my heart is there, and I have high hopes for a great weekend for those who can!

Creative Minds

Hai guise.

I'm posting here - for a change - because what I have to say fits more in line with what I'd originally set up this blog in order to do: comment on the state of the world at large, and maybe social, geographical, economic and environmental things specifically.

I was asked this morning by my boss to read an article by Richard Florida (The Rise of the Creative Class), published in The Atlantic, entitled, "How the Crash will Reshape America." Our little town of Sumter, SC is participating in Earth Day's "Spotlight Conversations," which is kind of a big deal.

As I read, I found my lips curling as I imagined Jim Kunstler's reaction to the article. Seriously, I wanna toss those two in a room and just listen to what happens. It could be kind of explosively awesome.

Even more awesome would be if Osha Davidson chimed in and gave his 45 cents worth.

hee.

NEW SPN TONITE. At some point I really still need to write that blog post about how the Impala is awesome and may actually save the Universe. No, really.

Also - I never blogged about election day in Horatio, South Carolina. I really am fail.

the plural of impetus

...is supposedly "impetuses." this sounds ungracious to me; not something a southern lady would say in public. but i digress.

Development in Flood Plains Continued after '93 Floods

I just have to underscore the stupidity of purchasing property in - or even near - flood plains, and am very sorry to actually have to say it. People seem to think that it's perfectly fine "because the government approved it," or something equally ignorant. No one realizes - or acknowledges - the fact that the government approves whatever developers (aka private property owners) ask them to approve. It is anyone's god-given right to develop privately-owned property in the United States. Meaning, that line on the map? Actually means nothing. FEMA cannot keep up with how quickly it moves. Picture a sponge, representing the ground, and a massive steel plate being pushed down in the middle of it, representing development (which, for you unimaginative ones and non-scientists, means increased impervious surface. I'm sorry - that would be a big word. It means paving and rooftops where rain cannot percolate into the ground). Water can't seep thru the steel plate. Therefore, what does it do?

Maybe you smart ones might try this experiment at home. Maybe the light will go on. This should not take a degree in hydrology to figure out.

Somehow, however, I doubt it will seep in for most of you, if you pardon the pun. People are just too dense where their land investments are concerned, especially if the particular investment in question represents HOME. But this is why I don't listen to the reports of distressed, displaced property owners any more. I do, however, have a high measure of condolence for those people who purchased their property well out of a flood plain 30 or more years ago, and now find themselves being flooded out because of increased development around them. If you're one of those people? I'm right beside you, loading up my word-cannon, wanting to blast the living daylights out of those greedy-assed creeps. Yeah.

Sorry, I'm a conservationist and a rebel at heart. And I like to shoot things that need shooting. Sometimes shooting relieves the stress that built up over a decade and a half of trying to convince people that building there wouldn't work out in the long run. I talked myself blue in the face, and people laughed and said, "You're crazy."

So yeah - I'm laughing now.

You property owners who purchased property in the past five or ten years or so, thinking you had all the rights in the world to go on imagining that you were safe or the government would protect you because your property was approved? And bitched and complained because the locality or bank made you purchase flood insurance, and the stupid government employee that you hounded down at the building permit office actually did his or her job and refused to write the letter you requested so you could save a measly few hundred dollars a year on your homeowners insurance? Hey, FUCK YOU. I'm fiddling while your proverbial property rights get washed out to sea, baby. Hahahahahahahahaha.

If I had a dollar for every individual who stormed out of my office because I refused to write that letter, lying so that they could close on their house by noon that day, I'd be able to take a vacation in Cancun on the savings. But I don't. Not that I wasn't offered all manner of return favors, and plied with everything from lottery tickets to free lunches to write that letter.

FEMA is not the bad guy. But you government-reform assholes have certaily ensured it is pretty much unable to do the job it was formed to do: Protect property values, water quality, and habitat. You idiots whittled away at government regulation until it is no more than a dancing puppet, unable to do anything but be an ineffective shadow tracing the lines of its original purpose. Don't whine to me, Argentina. You made your bed by insisting we allow you to develop that property to its "highest and best use," god DAMN that term, so now you get to lie down in it, and splash around with the ducks.

The only thing FEMA actually does anyway is approve your ability to purchase government-subsidized flood insurance should you be stupid enough to purchase property in a mapped flood-prone area. FEMA cannot prevent you from building there... they shove that responsibility off to the states, who in turn shove it off onto the localities, who blithely ignore it. It's actually illegal under federal law for participants in the National Flood Insurance program to issue building permits in certain flood-prone areas, for all kinds of excellent reasons that ensure property rights in the long run are preserved. But the administrative wherewithall for ensuring that gets enforced is placed with individuals who have a vested interest in seeing that it is NOT enforced: Tax Assessors and County Administrators, whose directive from the people who hired them (politicians) is: INCREASE THE TAX BASE AND TO HELL WITH GOVERNMENT REGULATIONS.

Who in their right mind thinks about the long run? People are human. The long run means nothing, except when it becomes the short run.

So no, I really, really don't even care about all the millions of dollars worth of property damage out there. You get the government you deserve; your karma, baby. As a geographer, I find it unbelievable that people can't see that water coming years before it gets there. As a person raised under the ideals of common sense, I still can't believe it.

You don't have to be a geographer to understand that when you cover the ground with buildings, pavement, and roads - the water can't seep into the ground. It collects in the low places. And the more you cover the ground, the fewer places it has to collect. It fills the low places, and then creeps up to less low places. Soon, what used to not be designated "flood zone," eventually qualifies, baby. It gets Wet. THIS IS COMMON SENSE.

Or, you could look at it this way: God is Punishing You for Your Ignorant Stupidity. The End is Near. The Apocalypse is Imminent.

I love how these people are always the same mouths who yammered for me to approve their goddamned flood-prone building lots. As if Christianity itself depended upon their getting that return on their investment.

Heh.

Either way you look at it - apocalypse or science, Shit Happens. We can't go on deranging drainage systems and drying up habitat and paving over flood plain and think God Won't Get Pissed Off Eventually. Or the earth will eventually take back what is hers.

Here's some bottom-line advice: Don't Build There. Buy a park bench and sit on it and enjoy the sunset. Bring your fishing rod, and a cooler of beers. Pitch a goddamned tent. But DON'T BUILD A HOUSE. A few localities that participate in the National Flood Insurance Program do actually refuse building permits for structures that meet certain criteria in mapped flood-prone areas. The reason I say "a few" is because out of the multiplicity of localities and regional governments that I personally have experience working for and/or with across the southern US, most administrators 1) do not understand the requirements for participation and 2) do not give a flying flip about them. Tax assessors routinely push to have building permits issued wherever and whenever they are requested, in order to increase the value of property, in order that taxes may be collected.

I really, really look forward to this day. Except a part of me doesn't actually believe it will happen. Soothsayers Rule #1: The future will be like nothing you have imagined, but when you get there, you will realize it is exactly what you expected.

Prometheans hate spelling things out. But apparently, you asked for it. And I have no doubt, will continue ignoring it. And humanity will survive, in spite of our angst.

Or not.

Blithe Cassandra, that would be me. I've done my duty in warning you, now I'll go back to what I prefer to do with my free time, which is sitting up here in my 18th century house high above the flood plain, writing porn about Jensen Ackles.

La,
S

i can hear: The Black Crowes, Wiser Time
it's my party & i'm: in your face
lost or found: down by the river
stats: sunny & breezy with a touch of headache

Earth Day 2008

Image source unknown
Do what you can. Live as you must. Be the Beacon.

"The Star Thrower," A Sermon, The Very Rev. Samuel T. Lloyd III, National Cathedral, Spotlight on Global Warming 2006

Here are a few links to peeps on my sidebar who are doin' it right, or at least doing their best:

Resources:
Awakening Earth: Voluntary Simplicity
Blackle: A Black Google
Chick in the Country
Eat Wild! Your source for Local Grass-fed Foods
James Howard Kunstler
Leonardo di Caprio's Eco Site
Osha Gray Davidson
The Sustainable Communities Network
Treehugger
Urban Agrarian


Passions, Causes, Crusades:
Compassion in World Farming
Congaree Land Trust

Measure your ecological impact at www.conservation.org/ecofootprint!
Earthjustice
Earthskills
Environmental Defense
Environmental Law Institute
International Conservation Caucus Foundation
The Land Institute's Prairie Writer's Circle
Local Harvest
Southern Environmental Law Center
STOP Factory Farming
The Trust for Public Land
Valley Conservation Council


Blogs of Note:
Fragments from Floyd
Method: People Against Dirty
Mossback Meadow
Nature: The Wildlife Blog
Near Sea Naturals Blog
No Impact Man
Working for Change: Working Assets blog

Your southern adventure

(An open letter to James Howard Kunstler, in response to a recent entry on his blog - to read, check archives here,) and scroll down to October 30, 2006).

Dear Mr. Kunstler:

Am trying to clear the calendar in order to make your visit to eastern NC on Nov. 6th. Your writings are always good for at least a giggle --if a somewhat exasperated belly laugh fails me. I appreciate your cutting insight and you do often hit the nail on the head regarding the glaring stupidity of many public policies & land use decisions.

As a land use planner by education & experience, and a native of the Commonwealth, and by that I mean Virginia-the-mother-of-all-states, I have always been somewhat mystified by the actions and tastes of our neighboring states. To be exact, I am from "southside Virginia," and not a native of that OTHER state, namely NOVA or Northern Virginia --which is actually a northern state and is not recognized as part of the Commonwealth by the rest of us. I began my planning career in the mid-80s in the most extreme southeast corner of Alabama, then worked my way thru rural Georgia to the Golden Isles, then up to the sprawling pock-marked metropolis that is Charlotte. Ugh. This city is certainly the apogee of Yankee-fed money-lust.

Although I share many of your opinions and some of your conclusions about southern culture, you really don't know what the bleep you are talking about. The myths and the reality are one here... Centuries of poverty gave us time to develop a deep and abiding love of the only thing we had: our inner and outer landscape. Most of us, you see, were very used to hard work. The smallest minority of us ever owned slaves or have ever been able to afford to pay someone to do our work for us. If we didn't work, we didn't eat. And believe it or not, many of us see the link between air conditioning and the influx of foreign culture --and in defiance we raise our cardboard paper fans with biblical sayings printed on the back and wave them silently in total bliss from the porch swing. The softness of a southern summer evening where the breeze is only a whisper is something too fine and ephemeral for most of you to ever even recognize, much less appreciate. What that does to one inside is akin to the deepening of the soul's ability to negotiate between money-based comfort and the control of one's own destiny. Whether you are talking about a shrimper out of Darien, GA or a tobacco farmer in Brown Summit, NC, you are talking about a culture that is steeped in tradition, a deep love of the satisfaction based in the fruits of labor, and an extreme distrust of outside influences. And you forget how much this was upended in the mid-19th century, and how you Yankees still tend to prove us right time after time. We see you, compared to us, as short-sighted, blighted individuals absolutely unconcerned for what you see around you. You cannot appreciate our scars and wounds and are too quick to point out our faults and foibles without a shred of concern or understanding as to what those scars and wounds stand for. If any of you would simply live anonymously among us for a time, you might come to see the subtler, substantial beauty that is the South. You might come to appreciate our deep concern and respect for our neighbors, that is entirely different from yours. Concern and respect do not even mean the same thing here as they apparently do "up Nawth." And so, again, I would offer that you just have to live here, silently, and observe. The south of William Faulker, Flannery O'Connor, Pat Conroy, Eudora Welty, and Lee Smith is not a vast, ugly, bank-supported empire. It is a natural landscape teeming with life and culture --and that is something you Yankees cannot change, not with all your money and your influence and your offers of "knowledge and assistance." I have gotten to where I would far rather see an honest 1970s era mobile home or concrete block farmhouse community out in the country than the cobbled-together false community of the subdivisions around Charlotte. God damn subdivisions after all --thank you so very much, Mr. Yankee. What a lovely idea those were!

Oh --and also, if you ate at any Mom & Pop diner out on the four-lane, you missed the point completely. Southerners do not reveal their secrets and their best selves to just anyone, even less to any Yankee with attitude who happens to drive into town. What makes you think you experienced anything in particular at that dive? Unless the town you visited is vastly different from most, no local eats there unless half-starved and against a wall, I assure you. First reason --they are too expensive and second, the food tastes terrible!! Those restaurants are for TRAVELERS, and they developed in the fifties by people like my great-grandparents who realized that hungry people from out-of-town on a long car trip to the beach or Florida will eat just about anything and pay lots of money for it. REAL home-cooked food is nearly always served waaaaaay out on on a dirt road in an old tumble-down shack or big Victorian whose last paint job was before the Depression, and is not accessible to anyone but the locals. Fact is, you got what you expected --and they got your money. That is the point. The cheap plastic icons of which you speak were put there after the advent of the automobile, but the south you saw was not the real South. You have to live here to know that.

One reason you see so many poor land use decisions here in the South, is that we still have lots and lots of land to waste --unfortunately for us planners. This isn't going to change for the foreseeable future --and yet, here in the South we have no city as ugly as Waterford, Connecticut --where my appalled southern eyes finally saw the truth of what rampant capitalism does to a landscape. God, what an ugly town --miles of concrete and dirty black asphalt --and not a tree or green blade of grass in sight. I high-tailed it back here as quick as I could fly, and have tried my best to warn my fellow southerners about what living conditions the Yankees are used to. They don't believe me. Here we still have trouble visualizing what our cities can and actually are turning into --where you can literally reach out your kitchen window and turn on the faucet in your neighbor's kitchen. Most southerners do not believe for an instant that these tract-home developments will abide for long. And correctly, many predict they will be "filled with 5 Mexican families each," before the next decade ends. Still, my frustrations are similar to yours --the love affair with quick fixes, the dirty old boys (and now women, too) in the smoky civic backroom making deals with developers so that Uncle Andy can retire in peace to the beach. While we may not be able to understand the cultural difference that you Yankees bring down here, namely, your absolute unawareness of how CROWDED you are --this, we sincerely believe, will be the downfall of the Yankee in the south. Eventually the market for living on top of one another will just dry up! Living so closely squashed together is anathema to our very culture --the Southern psyche must have room to breathe and shoot the neighbor's pigs to keep them from running rampant thru the garden --oh, and instead of going to therapists, we blow away the errant beer can or two on the fence with a .357 magnum. It is ultimately why TNDs and "urban planning" fail here. Having attended public hearing after town meeting after community information session for my past 18 years of public life, I see it over and over again. The locals see too many changes happening way too quickly and they rise up and say "No." No culture can assimilate the rapid changes that have taken place on the local level in even the past 5 years. I have seen that the locals do eventually realize what outsiders want to change --which is their very IDENTITY, and they do take back their towns and prevent any more change for a period of several years, until the locals have a chance to catch up. And then they do it on their own terms. They set up baseball diamonds, rejuvenate the canopies over the sidewalk on Main Street, plant trees and polish up the Confederate Memorial in front of the courthouse. In other words, we do get it. We just don't necessarily always do it the way you Yankees do. We like where we live, and in the end we'd rather remain an honest Third World Nation than subscribe to the soul's selling out offered by Yankee industrialists. While a few decision-makers at the top often can be bought, by and large the southern people themselves remain true to their culture. "Bloom where you are planted," pretty accurately describes our mindset. Not "Get thee to Dothan," or any other frame of mind involving leaving the place of your birth and going elsewhere to try to change what you really can't address in your neck of the woods. Because all in all, if you really liked it, you'd stay there.

No personal offense intended --and thank you for letting me get that off my chest. Looking forward to your next column, and perhaps I'll see you next Monday.

Best regards,
Susannah B. Smith, AICP
Principal Planner
Adair Fox Planning, Research, Advocacy & Design
www.adairfox.com

"We are only the trustees for those who come after us." --William Morris

recommended reading

we began the day at 5 a.m. with a power outage, that lasted until after 3 o'clock in the afternoon. apparently a car went off the road in the rain in the early hours of the morning, snapping a power pole in two and thus cutting power to two towns and a sizeable portion of this part of the county. i am ashamed at my unpreparedness; we had no firewood cut and laid by, no way to make coffee. i am not actually quite able to function without morning java, and so much of the day was, sad to say, wasted.

we made our way to the huddle house around noon, joining scores of others who'd no way to heat breakfast. we decided coffee was the only immediate necessity given the jocularity (or lack thereof) of the populace and wait staff. again, ashamed of our dependence on the power grid and inability to decide what to do with the day. on the way back, we noted the repair trucks were driving away from the scene of the crash and assumed the power would be back on soon. we were right, for about fifteen minutes. it came and went just long enough for me to (finally!) get a shower. well, thank goodness for at least that. i wouldn't have been fit to talk with otherwise. don't suppose i've mentioned that it was raining off & on on most of the day. much-needed, desperately needed rain. and still, we griped. unforgiveable, positively hedonist. we were tested & found wanting. ouch.

in sheer punishment and to remind myself what is important, i made myself sit on my bed and read the latest issue of Countryside magazine, all about people who have certainly quite a bit more get-up-and-go than either I or my husband this morning. it just happened on a day when we were both tired, wanted to rest, and yet be entertained. i wanted to work on my writing (requires a computer as my latest drafts have not yet been printed out); he wanted to watch Talladega. so much for our healthy, back-to-the-earth philosophies about life. finally the power came back on and my husband happily settled in to make heavenly chicken gumbo. i made more coffee and met my friend outside at our habitual outdoor sitting room for erudite conversation and comment on the state of the world at large. we were joined at length by her brother and the conversation turned to "what to do --what is happening to our world?"

as a planner, i can certainly comment on that, at length; and so in order to be helpful i recommended "anything by Jane Jacobs."
Cities and the Wealth of Nations certainly is an excellent beginning for laypersons to begin to understand how we literally shot ourselves in our economic feet decades ago, and why it is so critical that we stop buying from overseas or patronizing any company who outsources to the new Third World. buy locally whenever you can. eschew any retailer who lays claim to the pennies in your pocketbook while robbing your community of its identity and local economic strength --namely, the mega-retailers. buy small, who promise strength and stability for the long haul, and give you an honest product for reasonable (not "cheap") prices. and while we're making recommendations, use geese or sheep to mow your lawn, grow your own vegetables and/or patronize the local farmer's market, raise chickens for meat and eggs, barter with your neighbors, make it yourself, use it up, wear it out, and on, and on. until you do, you won't understand how simple it is. it's actually the lazy way. think how much simpler our day would have been with only a few minutes' preparation in the form of chopped wood stacked ready by the door. we have all the necessities for an 18th century life in the woods, including hand-ground coffee and all the cooking accoutrements... but no fire! instead we had to wait, get grumpy, and eventually saddle up the mule (ok, start the automobile), and mosey down to the local corner hangout where we were served up a mediocre substitution for the morning's necessity. for shame, for shame.

of course, we learned our lesson. firewood will be neatly stacked a couple of days from now. we just need to go down in the woods to get it. but most importantly, our mindset has been necessarily altered with the realization that we just aren't the know-it-alls we sometimes think we are. and too, how humiliating to realize our rumpled discontent all stemmed from the fact that, unlike the youthful steward pictured feeding the ducks above, we couldn't just accept what the day gave and found some joy in it. humility will season our next cool morning, to be sure.

keeping wildness

In Wildness is the preservation of the world... Our village life would stagnate if it were not for the unexplored forests and meadows which surround it. We need the tonic of wildness." --Thoreau, Walden, 1847

One doesn't normally think of Thoreau as a planner, but oh, he was. In his earnest adaptation and spiritual connection with the countryside surrounding the community in which he lived, he gave us the blueprint for interweaving the urban/suburban fabric with that of the rural. i submit here an image of the yard i had two houses ago, near greensboro, nc... it is still in a rural area, thanks to the non-availability of water & sewer service. it was a 4-acre 'old city lot,' in the downtown section of a town that was founded before the revolution. several of us kept farm animals in ancient barns and the slow timbre of life there was affected by its proximity to metropolitia only during the 5 p.m. traffic centipede that crawled down the main street, disappearing shortly after 6. to protect the habits of wildlife, it is against the law in that little burg to burn more than 160 watts of light after dark, cumulatively on any one property. Many of us used candles in the window so as to be able to view the night sky, the constellations, and the velvet blackness, virtually unchanged since the turn of the last century.

Small communities and rural towns comprise the bulk of the local community in the southern United States. Here it is a cultural reality that people live with spaces between them.... piling in cheek by jowl is anathema to us. Hence, there is an anxiety as we go forth in time that the future will be something so different that we will not recognize ourselves. What happened up North is now happening here, and none of us want to duplicate the mistakes that were made as the more populated areas of the country developed. And yet, few are willing to conserve, to protect, to eschew the monetary gain --sometimes much needed --in order to preserve the southern countryside. Those who are are usually not the ones with the land. And so it goes.... will we return to Walden a century from now and wonder what it was like, instead of going out of our own doors as we do today, and experience it?

when cities become villages

Two articles this week showcase examples of rapid changes both in thinking and in on-the-ground dynamics of suburban development. I cannot but hope that we are learning the lessons described by Jane Jacobs --the hard way, of course, for what other way is there for humans to learn?

The 'Smart Sprawl' Strategy

http://www.planetizen.com/node/17221

Suburbanites Under House Arrest Without Wheels

http://www.planetizen.com/node/17216

Cities must be able to provide for their own needs and not be totally dependent upon outside commerce to fill the basic primary and secondary requirements for living: food, shelter, clothing; goods and services, education, medical facilities, transportation. An extremely effective and economically viable way to do that is by allowing people to develop businesses in conjunction with their living spaces, within neighborhoods, and eschew the kind of thinking that these very unfortunately typical homeowners embrace; radical, separatist believers all:

Affluent Neighborhood Doesn't Want Bus Service

http://www.planetizen.com/node/17209

I used to see and hear this all the time. At my planners' desk, it was not uncommon for people to phone me and complain about "cutting through" neighborhoods. Roadway connections to adjacent neighborhoods was seen as equivalent to speeding and crime, not a way to save gas and cut traffic buildups on local roads. People would also speak loudly against greenways and bike paths going through their neighborhoods, and call sidewalks "a waste of money." They would complain about the dust, noise, and smells when they moved to a new housing development that had been unintellegently planted in the middle of working farms, and the farmers would counter with stories of how these folks' kids would trample crops with their off-road vehicles, scare and even kill the livestock, steal produce and supplies from barns and outbuildings. These people had bought into a lifestyle that could only be supported by dependence upon foreign oil, and was obtainable by only the very upper reaches of society. It showed an extreme separation from people who didn't drive everywhere, but walked, used public transportation, or bicycled. These people didn't want to belong to the world, they wanted to escape from it. Such a self-centered, unrealistic viewpoint is not only extravagant in the extreme (these are public roads, after all) but contribute to the insular dependency we face now: insular in that we shut ourselves off in our houses, hooked up to our individual television sets, and turn our backs on the world outside, yet in order to do so, we are totally dependent upon resources that we have sold our ability to provide.

If cities do in truth become a series of interconnected, interdependent boroughs and villages, as they were before the advent of the automobile that contributed to the insular dependent mindset of the typical suburbanite, I do predict that this will be the natural outcome of our dependency on foreign oil. But the mighty will fall with a bang, and they usually make very loud noises when that happens. Rich and powerful people do not take failure in stride. Those who have benefitted the most by this inequity of resources will do all they can to see that it doesn't happen. Better that they pray for faith, and grace to see it through, to hold out their hands to join their neighborhoods together and see them develop into wholly functional, healthy societies that cross racial, economic, and social barriers, than to continue to fight to hold on to their ultimately destructive living standards.

i am looking for a bike i can use to visit one of my two neighborhood grocery & shopping areas, both of which are within a mile or two of my home. i want a sturdy bicycle with a big basket on the front or rear, one of those old-fashioned ones from the days when Detroit made big cars that looked more like tanks than passenger vehicles. i can smell the sweet timothy-scented breezes on my face, feel those buff calves getting a workout already...

Last night the corn field behind my home bustled with reapers and mowers late into the evening. I am sure the neighborhood cats will be dining on displaced rodents and I'll have to wipe the dust from the windows. But the morning sunrise was lovely over the golden-green stubble, and hearkened to crisper days and frost-rimmed mornings to come, all too soon. Summer is over, autumn beckons. How wonderful to have that forced upon me when waking. How wealthy am I, not to be insulated from my world, to be aware of the activity of my neighbors who are different from me.

one helluva mess

'Notes on the Flood
Elba, Alabama March 1991

There was a handmade sign at the bridge as you cross over into downtown after the flood that poured 16 feet of water into the historic area, inundating the courthouse and shoving trucks & conversion vans from a car lot adjacent to the levee into buildings like so many wadded up pieces of paper. In boldly painted letters, it read:

ELBA -
WE
WiLL
Build
Again

But overheard at the grocery store in nearby Enterprise:

"These Elba people don't seem to understand that the river is God and that God is the River, and that erosion and wind and rain are all part of nature; as such are things to be applauded, even worshipped. It is wonderful that we cannot control them, that they do not respect our petty political boundaries and that they remind us of what tiny specks we are in the eye of the Creator. It is a wonder that He allows us to go on at all, insipid and disrespectful and illusory as we are. As if we had any right to our own opinions about things."

The little town of Elba, Alabama built in the crook of a bend in the Choctawhatchee River behind enormous levees, was voluntarily moved to higher ground later that decade, after another devastating flood. They got the message. There are some places on this earth that just weren't meant to be inhabited by humans. They are where you can become part of the food chain. Why in God's name we insist on filling in wetlands and building houses & roads on them is a mystery to me. It isn't like the wetlands will go away. It's like trying to hold back a sneeze --you might be able to do it for a little while, but eventually it's going to come out, and it seems what we try to suppress comes out more violently than if we'd just let it happen in the first place. '

--from the 1991 journal of someone living & working there at the time



Overheard below is something overheard recently, and I'm going to try to pass it along to you as it was given to me, and you'll have to pardon the language but to try to write it without the patois takes something away from it. It isn't funny, but weeping and wailing and ignoring the root of this problem isn't going to help. We need to LEARN from this, people:

first speaker:
"well. i be tryin' to keep up wif de hurricane victims, but it's all most distressin'. 2 states is unda watta and de rest o' de country's bein' affected, too. kin you 'magine havin' to walk aroun' grubby and hot and wet fer days at de time? and all dose po babbies what needs medical 'tention. shoo. seem to me dey ort to be able to figger out some way o'd dispersin' these damn things 'for dey reach shore."

the response:
"now u be thinkin' lak an engineer. an' dat whut got 'em in dis mess.

de fax is dis: iffn dey dind develop 1500 SQUARE MILES OF WETLANDS along de gulf coast in de last 20 years de water woulda BEEN DISPERSED. DAT WHAT WETLANDS IS FO'. donchano. God KNOW WHAT HE BE DOIN' WHEN HE MADE LOUISIAN' & MISSISSIPPI!! They wuz de nation's kidneys at one pernt. Dat what I go to school fer & learn all about how de coastal ecosystems works. How de soil take up so much water & cleans it. How de plants works to hold de water & slow down de tides. How de lettle animals functions as part o' all dat, including little oysters & mussels & clams, what won't grow nowhere else but in dem tidal wetlands.

but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Dam greedy bastards come down & piss all over ever'boddy. Dey see wetlands fer miles & miles & not a house in sight & dey say, "DAM! Lookit all dat bare land! We kin make a passel o' money!!!" So dey commences to fill in de wetlands & build roads & houses & make all kinds o' mess. An' when de storm surge come, it got no place to go but de low places. An' like somebody flush de toilet, Louisiana & Mississippi at de bottom o' de tank when de storm surge go up & den it gotta flow back downriver to de sea. An' de dam moneymakers o' course dey gits de hell outa dere & go back to New Jersey & sits in de bars an' watches de storm on TV an' dey say, "Oh, hoo! Dat wuz one helluva storm! Pour me anudder gin & tonic, Mo! I hadda a helluva time gettin' to de airport!" And who is lef' down dere but de po' people what ain't made all kindsa money and dey ain' got no way out.

God DAMN them Yankees!!"

OK. Before I get rained all over, I need to perhaps explain one local's definition of Yankees. They would be those assholes who bring their money and their eager ideals to the South and just like colonials, think to capitalize on any investment they make without thought or prayer for any effect on the locals. Yankees can exist in just about any state or any country, actually. And they don't even have to be from "up Nawth," altho' a preponderance of them are. And thanks to them, we have high water, high taxes, and increasing poverty in the South. OK, I'll stop now. After all, it wouldn't be ladylike to say any more on the subject, like speaking of someone's bad manners beyond the mention of them. And I do feel the need to put my Lady mask back on for the moment. I'll need it when I go out in a little while to do my part. I know you good people have already driven deep into your pockets and given lots of money to the Red Cross or other missions for good. At least I hope so. Especially if you are a carpetbagging piece of the problem who ever made a dime off of any land transaction in the areas affected by Hurricane Katrina.

Land is not a commodity. It is our skin.

signpost at the bend

in case any of you missed it, i am no longer working for local government.

there, now! don't we all feel much better?

now i am free to think, say, explore, and contribute in ways i feel are necessary, and not be tied to one narrow-minded group's ideal.

we'll see where that takes us, shall we?

taking the blue pill

i have seen more than i want to,
and less than i deserve.
it is time to move on.
to be a martyr no longer to an unrecognized cause,
one that few believe actually exists.
would that it were so.
my venue lies in another sphere, and here i stay listening, listening
eyes shut, ears in fine tune
for the next call of duty
the next will o' the wisp
calming, quiet, hot and breathless it will come
and fall upon my would-be deaf ears
should i not be at attention
and ready to put the cause to action
i will pick up my pen
and march ahead to meet the dawn
while others sleep
and find myself among them,
somnolent sustenance in my throat.

someone is listening

News on Kelo:

http://www.planetizen.com/oped/item.php?id=153

http://www.farmland.org/policy/fed_policy_0706.htm

presto chango! coming to a farm near you...

did you see that
horse turn into a
cat?


WASHINGTON - The Supreme Court on Thursday ruled that local governments may seize people's homes and businesses — even against their will — for private economic development.

It was a decision fraught with huge implications for a country with many areas, particularly the rapidly growing urban and suburban areas, facing countervailing pressures of development and property ownership rights.
The 5-4 ruling represented a defeat for some Connecticut residents whose homes are slated for destruction to make room for an office complex. They argued that cities have no right to take their land except for projects with a clear public use, such as roads or schools, or to revitalize blighted areas.
Rest of article at
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20050623/ap_on_go_su_co/scotus_seizing_property

Read the complete Supreme Court opinion here:
http://wid.ap.org/documents/scotus/050623kelo.pdf

fallow fields

deep in thoughts of mother earth & her overall health this morning that were further reinforced as i drove in to work. the road takes me past more than a few farms, older housing stock, and spiffy new developments, shining like tacky-bright medallions in the crow's nest of our complicated rurality. several of these farms still pasture cattle --black baldies, angus, and mahogany-red simmentaler. there are cornfields, where the grain is now taller than i am. and nearer to town, the fallow fields where here and there still rise an errant cornstalk, leftovers from last year's harvest. these spear my heart like a picture of an orphan's bad haircut, as mute evidence of neglect. for it means that the land has been sold, and a shopping center, or mcmansions, are on the way.

can we say sprawl?

i will be silent on that subject for now, for truly there is nothing nice to say. my psyche needs relief, hope, or something, so i will go digging for that. plenty of good things are out there, plenty of nice folks. hope springs eternal. and so do the grass, the trees, nature itself seems always to win out. we don't always like it, sometimes it frightens us, but some of us do learn to live with that, and so far, humanity has survived some pretty awful things that we have done to ourselves and our world.

surely we can survive this, too.

a day well spent

yesterday we spent an incredible day attempting a plan to mend the heart of our little town. like doctors bent over the surgical table, we planners moved things about, hemmed & hawed, stroked our chins, and puttered. at day's end we had done quite a bit of work, had the beginnings of a downtown development plan containing most of the usual elements of vital and functioning places, including pedestrian paths, light retail, a library, post office, town hall, medical offices, the grocery store, the church, even some residential (yet to be defined) and yes, the farm all arranged methodically and interconnectedly along the slopes and drainages that make up the ground we are given. a redevelopment plan for the existing shopping center --turn it into a major component of the new downtown. cross-path connections around the low-lying areas so that things are not separated or squared off against one another, but hold hands across the street, or tie together with open pathways through a short stretch of wood. beautiful. vital. functioning. a happy place.

now, to polish up and verify the reality, and to give words to ideas in the form of published reports --back to the offices. all this in preparation for the seeds of change --to be sown in september, at the public presentations. promises to be a bit of a roller coaster ride, so stay tuned. i'll keep you posted.

it doesn't get any better than this

...is what my colleagues tell me, over & over. today i had the edifying experience of a fellow planner --who has gone to the "dark side," meaning she now works for a developer (albeit a relatively good one) telling me after a meeting in which certain public officials for whom I work had shown their respective lack of good sense and cluelessness, "Man. You have the patience of Job. I would have been screaming & walking out of there! How do you stand it?"

I guess I don't, anymore. Just do the "head down & butt" thing. And keep analysing the problem. One thing I did identify, with the help of the aforementioned colleague, is part of what makes this current position so absolutely horrifying is that, there are absolutely no qualified persons on our planning board. Not a one of them knows anything at all about development, environmental issues, or economics; they are all just "citizens." So we get what they call common sense and we know is ultimately ignorance of the real issues. None of them can even read a plat so all they can do is point out typos. All they can do is hold up the ordinance and try to make it match up to what is said in print. They have no idea how to analyse layout and design of a proposed site plan or development, but boy, they do have opinions. Opinions based largely in subjective aesthetic dream-worlds.

OK, 'nuff said. I am working out of the bitchy mode. I always do. The Mayor likes me again, I guess I came thru her hail of fire with flying colors. I am just tired of having to prove I do actually know what I am doing, in spite of the fact I have a couple of college degrees in this stuff.

reality

where have i been in the past three weeks? i wonder. aside from the ruptured tendon, that thankfully did not turn out to be the achilles and will not require surgery, it's been busy, in a word. and three of us had a bout with whatever the local nasty virus is this month; we survived.

so. i get so fired up about work nowadays. is it hormones, old age, or just being fed up with the stupid career choice i made? i leave it for you to judge. a brief recounting of facts:

1. April 25 - Board of Adjustment Case, in which the Planning Board rendered a 6-0 unanimous decision in favor of the applicant, who having filed a Request for an Appeal from the Interpretation of the Zoning Administrator (for which I was asked by two council members to recommend that the applicant file such an Appeal, so we could not prosecute the applicant for putting up the structure without a permit, while we changed the ordinance to allow him to do what he probably could have done to begin with, except several members of the community and Planning Board felt that it wasn't allowed. Are you confused yet? Wait, it gets better). Intepretation indeed. Then they spent two and a half hours of the public's time roasting the ZA over the coals for "over-regulating." Apparently some of them didn't know the politics behind the case. And I learned --how could I not have known already? --how fickle and forgetful most politicians are when they get on a podium in public and the topic is "deride government regulation." Forpitysake, I told them to begin with the damn thing didn't need a permit but they insisted on finding some way to permit it, in order to "control it." What was this thing, you ask? An unlighted wooden scoreboard at the local public ballpark that IMHO didn't fall into the category of "needing zoning approval" because it wasn't a sign, and it did not require a building permit due to its size and construction. Still, some insisted that if we didn't require them to get some sort of permit, they might build something bigger and light it & then they would be out of compliance & it would be a PR nightmare for the Town. Better to figure out some way to permit them. So I pulled out the permit application, they filled it out, then when it came time to pay the fee they balked because they are a "non-profit." The ordinance doesn't give any breaks for "non-profits," they have to pay just like you and me. But the two aforementioned councilmen decided at this point they shouldn't have to pay and we should change the ordinance. And besides, what was wrong with the scoreboard anyway? This is what you get when you have government by committee, and none of them have any training in this sort of thing. The trained one (me) ends up looking like the chimp watching a tennis match. I can't keep up with where the ball is coming from half the time, and the other half it is bonking me on the head.

I ask you: why do I do this? No, I ask myself. There is surely something for which my brain and energies are better suited.

All I ask is, tell me what the rules are. I don't care what they are, I just want someone to explain them to me. And don't blame me because you don't like the damn rules that you made. Even if I do work for the government. I'm just here, I'm not a criminal.

OK, I'll stop whining in a minute. I just have to get thru this and try to make some sense of it.

2. I understand people are mad at me because I had to miss most of last week due to aforementioned injury and illness. There are dozens of phone calls to return, even though I left an out-of-office message regarding my situation. Howsomever, I think I did a damn good job keeping up with things in spite of those challenges. We had 5 subdivisions in various stages of approvals to be heard at the Town Council meeting on Monday --and I sailed thru those with my requisite professionalism and "can-do" attitude. The engineers and applicants for the most part deserve nothing less --they, like me, are just doing their job. The developers rarely attend these meetings & when they do, they don't understand a word of what is happening. I long ago learned to separate the technical staff from the greedy.

3. To continue: What I did not need yesterday was the Mayor leaving a nasty voice mail --no, two nasty voice mails --stating that she had a complaint that I "cursed" a customer in my office and "this behavior will be cause for immediate termination if she hears about it again." This is absolutely ridiculous, I in no way "cursed" a customer or anyone or anything else, not even my foot, or the fact that for the past month my office has been upside down & I have been enduring construction of a new storage closet complete with new lighting and shelving, and have had nearly every piece of furniture re-arranged or replaced. Translation: can't find a thing, and can hardly think what to do with it when I do find it. Still, I kept my bitching to the blog and the Planner's list. Never once was I anything less than respectful to any person I encountered. Now, I may have had a few negative thoughts, especially toward the contractor who threatened my job when I declined to sign something he wanted signed that day without consulting as I had been required wtih the Planning Board Chairman first. She was unavailable, I left her a message. Not good enough. I was costing him hundreds of thousands of dollars. How did I like that on my conscience? I (again politely, but firmly) informed him I had nothing of the kind on my conscience, I had done what I could to get him an answer regarding the signature and was certain the Chairman would call back soon. I would get it taken care of as soon as was possible. He growled something absolutely insulting which I will not repeat. I lowered my voice as I do when I start to get angry, and stated that I did not allow attitude in my office, and he could leave this minute and send in the next person who was waiting out in the hall to see me. Explosion, consternation generale! I heard him stomp up the stairs and slam the door to the Administrator's office. I expect that is whence the accusation of cursing came. However, I am not guilty of cursing out loud. Perhaps silently. I am not as senseless as that would require. As I have said elsewhere today, I need this job, much as I hate it sometimes.

I would ask the Mayor tomorrow when we have our "meeting" about this and "other complaints she has received," for the respect she would give any normal person when investigating any complaint, and that is, the respect to ask, "Is there a problem? Can you tell me what happened?" For if that is not to be forthcoming, I think there will be a problem indeed. And I am not likely to hang around too much longer to discover the particulars. Life is much too short, and I am much too unhappy lately. A conversation with one of the local engineers who attended Monday night's meeting was enlightening and encouraging. He said, "I expect you'll land on your feet. Talk with the Mayor tomorrow. She's apparently forgotten how professional you always are --I suspect she must be buckling under some sort of pressure herself." Kind words, and helpful to hear.

Will try to put all this in its proper perspective, and march on toward whatever goal I am supposed to achieve. Surely that will manifest itself sooner than later.

continuing the rant

Dear Ones:

Thank you again for listening to my rant yesterday afternoon. It was so nice to come in this morning and read all the lovely posts, both on & off list. I am happy to report I am quite mollified by your empathy, and have decided that maybe I will stick it out awhile longer. At 5 p.m. yesterday I was missing the good old days of being chased out of an Alabama swamp (where we were doing housing counts for a CDBG low-mod water & sewer extension application) by concerned citizens in a pickup truck with four gun barrels hanging out the windows, pointed straight at us. No, really! Let me explain:

I remember how lovely the sky looked that day, how the wind was riffling through the soybean plants in the field alongside our rapidly retreating vehicle, and in spite of the momentary dismay & excitement, felt as if I had done something worthwhile & taxpayers' money was very well spent in those days. I could look at a new elevated water tank in an old downtown and say, "I helped to put that there." Things like that went a ways towards helping the infant mortality rate in one of our counties actually dip below that of Bangladesh. I made maps of county water systems, held public hearings on landfill sites, had eggs & tomatoes thrown at me at public hearings & was called a communist for writing one town's first zoning ordinance. I observed straight-pipe septic systems, saw people living in tarpaper shacks, and visited old people who had no floor in their houses with 7 half-naked children clustered around the TV set. (I was told "no one here goes without a television set. That would be uncivilised.") At times I felt as if all I could do was listen and commiserate. But then a year later I could go back & visit those same houses in their fresh blue paint & new front porch & roof and smile and feel like I had done something. Back then, need had a face that I could look into and learn from. As poor as the people were, they had dignity, and they were decent folk.

So when the question is posed, why don't we planners do something, or do more? I realize it is a challenge to be met. I also realize that I don't have the tools to deal with it. The questions have changed, the needs are different now. And maybe I don't care about these people I am supposed to be helping as much as the old ones. Now it is all about playing a game, pushing the pen, saying the right words, making people happy so they don't call the congressman. And the need is no longer dignified, it isn't even honest need. It's just want.

Remember the "two twin imps" of Dickens' Christmas story? They were "ignorance" and "want." You may feel the outraged, concerned citizens mentioned in the opening of this story typify both ignorance and want. However, I beg to differ. All in all, they were protecting what they saw as their dearest possession, to which every ounce of need, purpose, and passion was tied: their land. And, by the way, it must be noted, these guys didn't feel they were in need at all, and had purpose and passion in abundance. All they knew was someone was trespassing in the area, and their first instinct was to remove that outside invasion. Trespassers may bring change, and change may not always be good, and in any case it's a pain in the butt, I imagine they were thinking. Would that we had just left, and done nothing, instead of applying for the federal money that brought the public water & sewer to the area. Do any of you know how the story ends? I don't, but I can guess. The public utilities brought with them economic development, in the form of investment in commercial industry, which brought jobs. Jobs brought prosperity, which in the end just brought more want, in the form of fast cars, disposable diapers, fast food restaurants. It made the land more valuable, even desirable to outsiders, who moved in & put up brick houses and demanded better schools for their children. Building the schools caused the locality to have to raise taxes above what the old-timers could afford to pay, and brought services they hadn't known existed before, such as permitting procedures. So the people sold the land, made lots of money, and moved away, taking with them the community that had been there for decades. What was left were people who worked at the new industry, alongside some of the remnants of the former community (the ones who didn't have enough land to subdivide & become rich off of), and when the industry closed its doors and moved to Mexico, everybody was left sitting in a big pile of their own, self-created want. And the guys in the pickup truck, who previously had been hard-working farmers but became millionaires when they sold the land (aka their purpose, passion, & need); retired & moved to Myrtle Beach, partied for 18 months straight, and died sitting in a hot tub with their noses full of cocaine. Crazy? No, just an amalgamation of several stories I've collected over the years. Scope for my novel.

Because in the end, we just go around chasing after want. I maintain, it's the needs of people that we are too ignorant to recognize, and so need, the purpose, the passion... goes unfulfilled.

Thanks for being there. Maybe we'll figure it out if we work together & share what we know.

Best regards,
Susannah

the yankees are comin'

This is forwarded from the NC Plan mailing list, where this week, the discussion focused on the Census Bureau's new findings.

David Stein wrote:
"North Carolina continues to have a highly ambivalent attitude toward planning - we do it with great reluctance in many cases, and avoid it entirely elsewhere. The continuing game in which taxes from new development is used as a tool in setting up bidding wars between communities or between incorporated and unincorporated areas has allowed development to maximize the externalities they create: long term costs borne by tax payers as a class rather than by the newer homes that cause the costs. This leads to sprawl, leap frog development, air and water pollution, and traffic congestion, not to mention pedestrian unfriendly environments. Note how many supposedly "new urbanist" subdivisions are miles from any real center of activity. North Carolina is also a beautiful place, with an attractive climate, many good jobs (at least for the well educated who can afford new homes), plenty of willing developers who are unwilling or unable to put the pieces together, and local governments unable to get past the anti-tax climate that would allow them to do better planning and development guidance. Yes, there are exceptions, but in observing the scene closely for several years as a transplanted Californian (and no, we win no prizes there, either), I am saddened by the inability of our profession to get ahead of the curve and make the case for not just "smart" growth, but for very much smarter policies on land use management, transportation, health, education and economic activity. We need to recognize that the population has grown dramatically, and to rethink the nature of our development process. To what extent does the "right" of the property owner to maximize individual profit exclude the right of the community at large to avoid economically untenable patterns of development. Why can't we use common sense a bit more often: we know the consequences of haphazard, poorly sited development, yet somehow we seem to be making exceptions for each case that comes along. Even when we go to great lengths to improve a project, we still seem to only be able to make it less objectionable rather than truly an improvement. Look at the "new" development on the site of the formerly proposed "Coker Towers" in Raleigh: months of negotiations still left us with a project that it vastly over-scale for the site, with little public access despite its density, and located where public transit will never be a meaningful option. Or the almost gleeful pattern of continued annexation at the outer edges (Raleigh now touches Rolesville!) which can only undermine the billion plus the city is causing to be invested in its downtown. Isn't there a point at which we can figure out how to do the right think rather than just please everyone or even worse, avoid displeasing anyone "important"?I know it is hard, and that one must listen carefully to the political pressures on local councils, but still, we have not done our job very well if the term smart growth is largely a term of ridicule, the NC Smart Growth Alliance has had to fold up its tent, and the state has yet to mandate appropriate planning legislation for all counties and municipalities."