Celebrating April Fool’s Day – Part Two

In my last post, I began a countdown of the top April Fools’ Day stories of the year from the world of urbanism.  Admittedly, most of the stories aren’t the pranks that are the supposed mainstay of April Fools’ Day, but I’m using the day as a convenient excuse to deplete my stockpile of stories that are quirky, whimsical, cringeworthy, or just plain fun.  And I’ll make no apologies for stretching the definition of April Fools’ Day.

Last time, I counted down the stories from #14 to #8.  Today, I’ll continue upward to #1.

#7 Best Transit Ad: Although not from the past year, this ad for the Danish transit carrier Midttrafik is worth watching again because it points the way toward the next story on the list.  The creative firm for Midttrafik was given great artistic latitude in their effort to make transit cool.  And they took full advantage.  Even without subtitles, the message would have been evident.

#6 Even Better Transit Ad: Midttrafik and their creative firm returned this year with an even better ad, involving a Paraguayan beauty queen and a burning Mercedes Benz.  This time, we don’t even get the subtitles, only the Danish audio, but the message comes through fine.

#5 Seattle Graffiti: Graffiti takes the next three spaces on the list, beginning with a graffiti artist who writes in paint that is only visible when it rains.  Luckily, he lives in Seattle, so his work is on display much of the time.  (I don’t suggest that he relocate to the North Bay.)

#4 Graffiti Grammar: Faced with a repressive regime in Ecuador, a small and anonymous group tries to pushback in their own individual fashion by correcting grammatical mistakes in graffiti.  And it’s a surprisingly democratic effort, with the group meeting to debate the corrections before undertaking their tasks.

#3 Chalk Drawings: Next up is an Ann Arbor graffiti artist who does chalk drawings that are wonderfully creative, quirky, and endearing.

#2 Interactive Billboard: In a story that would have been #1 before a late entry took away the top spot, a designer conceived and executed a video billboard linked to sensors which detect whether passersby are on foot or in cars.  Walkers get applause, joggers get wild enthusiasm, and drivers get silence.

#1 Preserving Bad Plazas and More: The Project for Public Spaces had great fun with April Fools’ Day, writing stories that would have taken multiple places in my list if they hadn’t all been on the same webpage.   The lead story covers a newly announced government initiative to historically preserve the poorly conceived public plazas of the 1970s that so irritate proponents of good public places.  But the story that gave me the biggest laugh was the one at the bottom, asking whether a park bench was blue/black or white/gold.

I’m already collecting links for the 2016 April Fools’ Day posts.  If I work diligently, perhaps I can make it a three-post event.

In my next post, I’ll celebrate the return of baseball by updating my annual listing of North California ballparks that can be easily reached by foot, bicycle, or transit.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Urbanism 7, National Football League 0

A couple of years ago, I wrote about the rave reviews garnered by urbanism as a result of Superbowl XLVI in Indianapolis.  The game was played at a stadium within the downtown core, with many fans able to walk from their hotels.

I remain more of a World Series person, but certainly noted that the most recent Superbowl also attracted urbanist attention, although not as uniformly positive.  (Also, it was Seattle where I first fell in love with an urban setting, so writing this post is my way of saluting a city of which I hold fond memories.)

The first Superbowl story was the one out of New Jersey about the transit overloading that occurred after the game.  The initial versions of the story criticized local transit authorities for not having sufficient capacity available.  Having stood on a few BART platforms after Cal football and A’s baseball games, I was dismissive of the comments.  After all, it isn’t possible for a system sized for weekday commuter loads to cover special events.

But then the full story emerged.  The NFL had advised the transit agency of how many riders to expect.  The NFL folks assumed that as many people as possible would drive cars or ride charter buses, with only the remnant riding rail transit.

To no surprise of those who have watching the slowly growing love affair between the public, especially the younger segments, and transit, the modal split didn’t work out that way.  Many folks decided to take the train, more than twice as many as the NFL had expected.

Although not fun to the folks jammed on the platform, it was great demonstration of how a growing number of people expect to get around, even if the NFL was clueless.  After all, if the NFL is going to remain thirty years behind the times on head injuries, it’d probably be unrealistic to expect them to anticipate urbanism.

Switching the scene to Seattle, the post-championship parade offered an opportunity for downtown Seattle to shine.  It succeeded admirably.  Families thronged into the city, resulting in huge absentee rates in suburban school districts.  And many used the multiple transit systems available, keeping the city functioning under extreme conditions.

The Atlantic Cities article about the parade is something of a puff piece.  Similar comments could have been made about many championship parades, including the recent World Series parades in San Francisco.  But the author was presumably intoxicated by the joy of sharing a jubilant sidewalk with fellow city dwellers.  And that kind of intoxication is perfectly forgivable.

Just wait until the Mariners win their first title.  That will truly be a party.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

You Can’t Go Home Again – Part 6, Seattle is Good

In recent posts, I’ve been describing a trip I took this summer to the Pacific Northwest, a region where I lived from 1982 to 2000.  The trip allowed me to observe the progress of urbanism in the Northwest, with particular attention to lessons that can be applied to the North Bay.  The most recent post is here.

My previous posts have been about Oregon.  For this post, I’ll jump across Columbia River to look in on how Seattle is doing.

Observation #11: Urbanism feeds on itself – For the five years I lived in Seattle, my home was at the edge of the Madison Park neighborhood.

Madison Street is a principal street in downtown Seattle, running perpendicular to Puget Sound.  After crossing the relatively narrow width of the city, Madison Street ends at Lake Washington in the Madison Park neighborhood.  So Madison Park has a strong connection to downtown Seattle.  But it has also developed its own local character. 

Our home was about a mile from Madison Park, far enough that we only occasionally walked the distance, but close enough that it was a regular destination for dining, groceries, and other elements of daily life.  Twenty-five years ago, it was a comfortable little commercial district, serving the neighborhood well.

On my recent trip, I walked through Madison Park, perhaps the longest walk I’d taken there since I’d moved away.  It remains a comfortable place.  And many of the businesses that I remember from 25 years ago are still there.  But the retail area is now twice the size that I remembered.

Many commercial areas have doubled in size in the past 25 years, usually because of population

growth.  But the Madison Park neighborhood hasn’t grown, at least it hasn’t grown very much.  It was a fully developed neighborhood 25 years ago.  Perhaps clever land-owners were able to squeeze in a small apartment building or a few mother-in-law flats, but Madison Park remains much the same place it was a quarter-century ago.

And yet the retail area has perhaps doubled in size.  Why?  Because people like walkable neighborhood retail.  And as more people come to amble, to dine, and to do daily chores, more businesses open doors to serve them, which attracts yet more people.

It’s a good process to watch.  Old businesses remain in place to become trusted friends, existing

buildings add new stories, and homes on the periphery convert to professional offices.

The growth of urbanist retail is an organic process that is antithetical to master-planned power centers.

But like any organic process, it doesn’t work in a barren field.  It needs fertile ground way.  A form-based code so that neighborhood-appropriate buildings can easily change uses.  A parking management plan so that vehicles can be accommodated without choking life from the neighborhood.  And a shared neighborhood vision. 

It was good to see that my old neighborhood is getting the equation right.

Observation #12: Urbanism is a path, not a destination – The Seattle that I remember from the 1980s was a fully realized urban place.  A hearty downtown with gathering places such as the Pike Place Market and Seattle Center.  Strong and distinctive neighborhoods with pockets of useful retail.  A good bus system.

Seattle was a fine urban place when I moved away in 1987.  And it’s a better place today.  Neighborhood retail is stronger through the city.  Pockets of worn-out housing have been replaced with high-density residential.  The bus system is stronger.  And rail transit has established a beachhead.

Perhaps the most exciting development is an under-construction streetcar line between downtown and the University of Washington.

It was a reminder that, unlike drivable sprawl which peaks on the day when the ribbon is cut for the new big box or subdivision and goes downhill from there, walkable urban can keep getting better over time, adding new features and regenerating the older elements.

It’s a process that continually brings new excitement and promise.  And Seattle is full of both.  I’ll soon visit again, with more time to poke around.

Next post, I’ll offer a few final thoughts about communities I visited on my way from the North Bay to the Northwest.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

The Urban Design of Happiness

A couple of years ago, I read “The Architecture of Happiness” by Alain de Botton.  It’s a philosopher’s perspective of on architecture and how we relate to architecture.  I found meaningful insights in its pages, but it didn’t greatly affect my world view.

I recently spied it on my shelves and decided to read it again, this time substituting “urban design” wherever I came across “architecture”.  The replacement was inspired.  Entire sections bloomed with new meaning.

In particular, this sentence caught my attention, “Belief in the significance of (urban design) is premised on the notion that we are, for better or for worse, different people in different places – and on the conviction that it is (urban design’s) task to render vivid to us who we might really be.”

I spent my youth and early professional years in California.  Many different cities in California, but always in the Golden State.  I enjoyed California, but felt that I owed it to myself to see other places.  At the age of 29, I transferred with my employer to an opening in Seattle.

I found myself in a new place with a new wife, learning a new way of thinking and living.  Seattle may belong to the same country as the North Bay, but they view the world differently up there.  And that’s a great thing to learn and to experience on a daily basis before one’s 30th birthday.

I mention this because there was a moment when it crystallized that my time in Seattle was a turning point in my life.  It was at Christmastime, probably during my first or second year in the Northwest.  I was in the northern end of downtown, outside the Frederick & Nelson department store.  It was a functional but attractive part of downtown.  It was the early evening in Seattle, which in December means a dark and cloudy sky.

As I walked, there was a moment when the holiday lights on a store awning were reflected in the glistening sidewalk.  (It was Seattle after all.)  That moment, surrounded by stately buildings and with the colored lights reflected from a thin sheen of water, has always remained with me.  It was a moment when I knew that Seattle was different and that I was different, both in good ways.

Urban design may not have been essential to the moment.  But it provided the backdrop for a memory that has stuck with me for nearly thirty years.  And that seems a fine role for urban design.

Frederick & Nelson is gone now.  The doors closed in 1992.  But it lives on in one small way, two if you count my memory of holiday lights.  The store was known for its Frangos candy.  In the way that people in North Bay use bottles of wine as hospitality gifts, the people of Seattle used boxes of Frangos, especially during the holidays.  (I told you that Seattle was a different place.)  Despite the demise of Frederick & Nelson, Frangos live on at other department stores in the Northwest.  For which I’m pleased.

I eventually spent eighteen years in the Pacific Northwest before returning to California with my 50th birthday on the horizon.  I’m pleased to be back.  But I wouldn’t have missed the years that I spent up north.  And those holiday lights reflected from a sidewalk is a keystone to how I remember that part of my life.

I haven’t finished rereading “The Architecture of Happiness” and won’t until the New Year.  But this memory seemed sufficiently meaningful to share now.  Holiday lights hung in an urban setting will do that.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)

Urban Eating: Seattle, Tacoma, and Suisun City

There are many different directions in which I could take this blog.  My only constraint is my perceived covenant with you, my readers.  And I figure that as long as I remain on topics that affect urban life, I’m within that covenant.  So, today I choose to talk about urban restaurants.

My definition of an urban restaurant is highly personal, but I think it’s reasonable.

First and most importantly, chains need not apply.  I’m willing to consider restaurants with two or three locations.  An owner with a sound vision can operate a few nearby locations without defaulting to a corporate mindset.  But Applebee’s, no matter how well a franchise might physically adapt to an urban setting, will never be an “urban” restaurant.  An Applebee’s would be beholden to a vision from corporate headquarters in Kansas, not its urban location.

Second, the location must be walkable urban, meeting three criteria: little or no parking on the street side of the restaurant, good sidewalks or other pedestrian accommodations, and a location close to transit or within a short walking distance of homes.

Third, the restaurant must have character.  I don’t much care what kind of character, but it should be the kind of place that isn’t easily forgotten.

With those criteria in place, I have three places to share.  Two would require airfare for most readers, but one requires only a short detour when you’re next heading to Sacramento.

Voula’s Offshore Café is in a gritty, water-oriented industrial district of Seattle.  I-5 is on an overpass far overhead.  But at ground level, the key feature is the waterway connecting Portage Bay and Lake Union, part of the water landscape that defines Seattle.  Early development of hydroplanes happened in this neighborhood.  And, for many years, Pocock racing shells were made only a few feet away.

Today, marine businesses continue to be the primary employers.  And marine employees seem to be among Voula’s primary customers.  But an older residential neighborhood begins only a few blocks to the north.  And even closer is the Burke-Gilman Trail, a well-used bicycle-pedestrian trail, making Voula’s a convenient stop during weekend rides.

Voula is Greek and the hospitality reflects that heritage, but the menu is broader, including standard American diner fare and nods to the Pacific Northwest.  The salmon smoking in the parking lot reflects the latter.

The interior reflect Voula’s status as a neighborhood hangout, clean but not fussy.  Heavy, solid furnishings.  And a corner dedicated to the rowers who use Pocock shells.

The food matches the décor.  Nothing pretty, but well-prepared, simply-presented hearty fare.  My breakfast choice was the Greek Hobo, a scramble of eggs, potatoes, onions, mushrooms, and Greek sausage, topped with feta cheese.

The sausage was marvelous, with a good texture, firm but not overly coarse, and light seasoning.  But what made the dish was the gentle touch with the eggs.  Only enough egg was used to bind the other ingredients together.  It wasn’t an egg dish.  It was a potato and sausage dish that held together well.  It was also a meal that I could have again and again.

I was also tempted by the Chinese pancake, which you can watch on the video clip on Voula’s webpage.  Maybe next time. 

My only regret is that I now know that Voula’s opened its doors in 1984, three years before I moved from Seattle.  And it’s on a street that I often drove back then.  Had I found it back in 1984, I might never have moved away.

I was in the Northwest escorting my mother on a baseball roadtrip.  She’s a season-ticket holder for the Sacramento River Cats.  Beginning six years ago, she and I have taken annual roadtrips with the ballclub, giving her a chance to see her team in visiting uniforms.  We’ve gone to Portland, Albuquerque, Memphis, Nashville, and elsewhere.

I mention this because a feature of the each trip has been a meal with the ballclub’s radio broadcaster, Johnny Doskow, who has become a friend.  Doskow has been broadcasting in the Pacific Coast League for nearly fifteen years, which has given him the opportunity to find the best restaurants throughout much of the country.  Mother’s in Portland, Gus’s Fried Chicken in Memphis, Pancake Pantry in Nashville.  All were Doskow’s recommendations and all were good food.

In Tacoma, his recommendation was Southern Kitchen, a restaurant about a mile uphill from downtown Tacoma and nicely settled within the older residential grid of the city.

Not surprisingly, the cuisine was southern.  Perhaps more surprisingly, it was good southern food despite being about as far from the South as one could be in the U.S. without venturing to Alaska or Hawaii.

At the server’s recommendation, I went with the chicken-fried steak.  It wasn’t a regular breakfast choice for me, but I’m glad that I took the advice.  Nicely crispy, with a well-made gravy, and paired with a couple of eggs that were exactly as requested.  The only weak note was the grits and that was my fault.  I think I should like grits so keep ordering them.  But I’ve yet to find grits appealing and should just go with the potatoes.

In addition to good recommendations, the server also brought life to the meal with attentive service and a good line of patter.  When I asked for the check, “Skitzo” offered a sorrowful look and explained that he was no longer allowed to handle cash “after that $2,000 went mysteriously missing.”  When I went to the register to pay, Skitzo was there to take my money, explaining that he was “just  messing” with me.

Overall, solid food in a comfortable, enjoyable setting.  Highly recommended.

Lastly, I’ve twice mentioned Bab’s Delta Diner in this blog.  But I hadn’t yet found the right opportunity to eat there.  Recently, I was finally able to drop by Suisun City while it was open.  It was worth the effort.

Architecturally, Bab’s Delta Diner is a bit of a puzzle.  The exterior shell is consistent with the downtown redevelopment, a competent structure that seems recently built and fits with the waterfront theme of the redevelopment.  But step through the door and it feels like a diner of fifty years ago.  I don’t mean that in a negative sense, only that the layout seems a bit random and the furnishings are worn in the right spots.  It feels comfortable in a well-worn shoe kind of way.

And the food is consistent with that feeling.  Nothing very fancy, just good solid diner fare.  I had Rod’s Special, corned beef hash topped with cheddar cheese and a pair of poached eggs.  Normally I’d worry that the cheddar cheese would overpower the hash, but it was a full-bodied flavorful hash that allowed the cheese to be an effective complement.  And the eggs were done perfectly.

I arrived late in the Delta Diner’s business day.  People were still coming in the door, but the place was gradually emptying as the 2:00pm closing time approached.  As a result, the diner was overstaffed, with the young waitstaff clustered near the register, slightly giddy with the approach of a Saturday evening.

The young man who waited on me, a white teenager with a buzz cut, was in an effusive mood, quickly dubbing me “Buddy” and waiting on me with an alacrity that verged on haste.  I had to catch the silverware before it slid off the counter.  When he called the middle-aged African-American man next to me “Brother”, I found it a bit close to the edge, but no one took offense.

While I ate, the Olympic 10,000 meters was playing on a television, although the race length wasn’t being shown on the screen.   It was interesting to watch the waitstaff try to figure out the length, given the elapsed race time and the number of laps being run.

After long consideration, one decided that it was 100 meters (huh?).  Another went with 6 miles (close but the Olympics went metric before any of them were born).  A third came up with 9,000 meters (not a traditional race length).  They finally settled on 10,000 meters, but only after the high school teachers in the diner were hanging their heads in shame.

It was fun to watch the youthful exuberance.  Some patrons might have found it a distraction, but I enjoyed remembering the days of my youth.  And it reminded me that a primary reason for urbanism is leaving a more sustainable world for the next generation.  Even if they think that it takes nearly thirty minutes to cover 100 meters.

As always, your questions or comments will be appreciated.  Please comment below or email me.  And thanks for reading. - Dave Alden (davealden53@comcast.net)