Yeeeargh

Tonight I was catching up on my swamplot backlog. It’s not a bad site – but one thing that creeps me the f*** out is that they have special little names for all the little sections of the Montrose. Like there’s a “Cherryhurst” and an “Audobon Park” and a “Westheimer Curve” and “Avondale.”

Now when I actually *lived* in “Avondale,” in my experience, the only people who used that name were the annoying rich fucks who were trying to get some sort of preservation thing formed to stamp out the garden apartment complexes in which 85% of the residents of that neighborhood reside. To everyone *in* those complexes (including myself) it was just the Montrose, or even Houston.

Why are such small neighborhood sub-names so creepy? I’m not exactly sure. I think part of it may be the Balkanization/salad-vs-melting-pot effect of trying to sort us all into little groups, the same reason I always check “other” or “american indian” or something on those little race boxes. I think part of it might also be that attempts to create a micro-neighborhood identity are so closely linked with restrictive and stifling aesthetic and architectural restrictions of the kind Portland is notorious for; if you try to think up a district plan for “The Montrose,” it’s difficult, because you intrinsically recognize that the ‘trose is big and sprawling and diverse, just like Houston. But if you try to think up a master plan and regulation set for “Avondale” it becomes markedly easier because the entire area is a few square blocks, easier to grasp and analyze for the sort of small, meddling minds who create these sorts of plans.

But what I think really gets to me is the idea that we can all be pinned down. One of the things I’ve always liked about Houston’s autocentricity is that if you’re like me, you’re always all over the place. You drive here, you drive there, you make a run back to your pad to grab some stuff and drop some stuff off and then you’re out again. Admittedly this has been curtailed quite a bit with my recent dependence on METRO. But still the idea of being bound to a specific place bugs me.

Sprawl, y’all.

First, read this article.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/wear/8413974.stm

Now upon reading this article you probably have one of two thoughts. Either something like “the nanny state is at it again… why do the Brits put up with this?,” or something like “DAMN those two sure are ugly!”

Indeed. But stop to consider for a moment the context. Sure, there are cultural differences. But there’s also very significant architectural differences – and there’s really no way to separate the two.

The vast majority of British, if they don’t reside in a brutalist concrete high-rise, live in small, dingy, semi-attached red brick dwellings. An average neighborhood in Newcastle, where this couple was tried, might look something like this. That’s how the Brits live. Partly because their island is small, but mostly because their national housing policy was drafted in the immediate aftermath of World War Two, when the country had just gotten the crap beat out of it and austerity reigned supreme. Semi-attached dwellings were cheaper to build, and the basic framework for neighborhood and regional planning has remained essentially the same since then.

Is it really so hard to understand, then, how a culture could evolve where the government has the right to hand out notices that prohibit one from making noises during sex? If through government fiat the populace is packed together and forced to live cheek-by-jowl, would it not be logical that the citizenry would eventually demand the sort of quasi-fascistic powers to regulate everyone’s personal behavior up or down to the same bland average?

Very few cultures possess the same fetishistic penchant for pressing people up against one another as the Brits do. Not even the Japanese, who pack twice as many people into a much more rugged set of islands. No, Japanese houses are small, but they are private. Even in inner-ring Tokyo, single-family homes are detached, with walled courtyards. You might have a 600 square foot lot, but it’s your damn 600 square feet. By contrast, even the most exurban British developments just use the extra land for open space preserves and large front and rear yards, while dwellings themselves retain the packed-togetherness of rowhomes of 150 years ago. Come to think of it, that concept has been taking off in America as of late; they call it “cluster” development.

But at least here the standard was set in good times rather then bad. US national planning policy has proven as resilient as Britain’s – difference is, ours was drafted up in the roaring twenties, during the first long-term mortgage bubble, and as a result where the British system exalted the semi-attached rowhome, the American system enthroned the 50-foot lot as standard. In fact the biggest problem facing American homebuyers is they’re not *allowed* to go small. Even an extreme example like Houston only allows lots down to 1400 square feet, so a recent Japanese immigrant who wants the ease of maintenance and spatial efficiency of his old place in Chiba or Toyanaka is pretty much SOL.

But if we have to have the government telling us how we’re allowed to live, I’m much happier being forced into a larger place then being forced into a smaller one. After all, the American regulatory bias towards large-lot living generates the same sort of cultural externalities that the British penchant for being packed like sardines does.

Thing is, where the Brit model engenders an incessant desire to ‘get along’, the American model engenders a feeling of self-reliance that is partially illusory but socially useful. You can’t deny that the inherent ineffiencies of auto-centric sprawl – things like having to drive five miles each way to pick up a gallon of milk, for example – help reinforce a pioneering, manifest-destiny feeling among the average homeowner. Hop in the wagon and head into town to pick up some provisions for the next couple weeks; the Costco run is simply the modern-day equivalent. Providing for life’s necessities is time-consuming and arduous, so get a big pantry and make sure to stock up. Would the NRA have nearly as many members if half the US lived in mixed-use apartments with shops and restaurants at their doorstep?

Back to the article: Town authorities measured the sound of the couple’s lovemaking at 47 dB in the adjoining unit. By comparison, even relatively restrictive cities like Portland set their noise ordinance at a somewhat higher fifty-five decibels, measured at the lot line. If Caroline and Steve lived in Washington State instead of Washington-on-Wearside, there’d be no problem – regardless of how many times the neighbors called the cops.

The cultural externalities that accrue from our standard of living benefit all of us; even those that choose not to embrace the dominant paradigm. I’ve been a renter for most of the past six years, and I’ve spent a decent chunk of it living in garden-style apartments with nothing more than a couple sheets of gypsum board between units. I’ve been subject to numerous neighbors’ sex noise, and they’ve probably been subjected to mine; yet I’ve never had the cops called on me, and I’ve never so much as knocked on a neighbor’s door for the same reason. For awhile my girl had a very amorous bear/twink couple as upstairs neighbors. The prominent sounds of rough ass-sex was something we laughed and rolled our eyes at, but we never complained to anyone. The prevailing attitude was “fuck it, it’s the Montrose.”

Which is just one more reason why I’m so deathly opposed to restrictive urban planning, even though I myself prefer denser and more urban areas. I understand that regardless of whether I occupy a ticky-tacky McMansion or a 20th-floor efficiency, there’s benefits to living in a culture where having your own yard and a two-car garage is “normal.” I have no desire to force everyone to live like me; I like being a 10- or 15-percenter, and I don’t ever want to live in a place where my preferred architectural lifestyle is shared by the majority.

The Idiocy of SOB Exclusion Areas.

Houston has one of the most restrictive sexually-oriented business (SOB) exclusion ordinances in the country; unlike most other cities, it contains no grandfather clause for existing development. In a minute we’ll look at the intent and effects of such ordinances, but before doing so it helps to have a detailed, context-sensitive look at the city’s chosen test case, the Penthouse Club.

The city “won” a verdict against the Penthouse Club about a year ago (more on that Pyrrhic victory later) under a previously-unenforced 1997 law that requires adult businesses to be at least 1500′ away from parks, schools, churches, and daycare centers. Contemporary coverage in the Houston Chronic lamented that “a private school and the parking lots of a church and a mosque are within 1,500 feet.” There’s just one problem; they’re not.

The 1500′ exclusion areas are drawn as a circle on a map, without regard to actual distance as perceived by a driver or a pedestrian. Looking at the Penthouse club, we notice two things:

The first is that the churches and school are all on the very edge of the circle. A 1300′ circle wouldn’t pick up any of it. The second is that the churches and school are almost a mile away.

This is what the shortest route from the Penthouse club to the Islamic Education Center (the aforementioned private school) looks like:

This is what the shortest route from the Penthouse club to Unity Church looks like:

In both cases, the religious facilities are in completely different neighborhoods then the Penthouse club. They front on Voss, while the Penthouse club is tucked away behind another business along Westheimer. Two entirely different contexts.

But, while the “school” and “church” proximity is a legal fiction, the “residential neighborhood” proximity is real. Unsurprising, considering we live in a city without legally dedicated and separate commercial zones. Why, kids might even *walk past the outside* of the club. What might a young, impressionable mind see?

WE MUST PROTECT OUR CHILDREN FROM THE HORRORS OF FAUX GREEK TILT-UP ARCHITECTURE!

The Penthouse club’s entrance is set back from the street, on the side of the building. Truth is, it’s a responsible design. Innocent passers-by are in no danger of catching a glimpse of a scantily-dressed woman. They’re not even in danger of glimpsing the skeezy ex-mob bosses who run the place. Nope, all they see is a concrete wall with really bad detailing.

So why have this ordinance in the first place? No study has ever shown that children or adults are harmed in any material way by walking or driving past a building that says “stripclub” or “adult bookstore” on the side. No, the reason for the exclusion areas is to drive out sexually oriented businesses completely.

Requiring a 1500′ radius around these institutions forces SOBs to find a chunk of land three-quarters of a mile on each side without a church, school, or park. At the same time, responsible urban planning requires that we sprinkle parks and churches around the metropolis, to serve the greatest number of people. For that reason, about the only place you can reasonably expect to find church/school/park-free land is in industrial areas.

To see how this works, let’s look at the Montrose. The map below shows 1500′ exclusion areas around qualifying institutions; from left to right, they are: Cherryhurst Park, Grace Lutheran, Annunciation Greek Orthodox Cathedral, The Harris School, HSPVA, Ecclesia Church, South Main Baptist, and Catholic Charities.

About the only piece of land in the Montrose/Westheimer area that *doesn’t* lie in such an exclusion area is Numbers Nightclub. Ironically, there used to be an adult bookstore across the street from Numbers, but they went out of business over a year ago.

So what would happen if we actually enforced this ordinance on the ‘trose? Erotic Cabaret would probably have to go, or reduce the scope of what they sell. Black Hawk Leather and Spider’s Web would *definitely* be out. But then this would never happen; attempting to kick the leather shops out of the city’s designated gay-borhood would be political suicide. Nope, this is a law that will only be applied in selected quasi-suburban areas, where neighborhood busybodies get to thinking they need to enforce their morals on the rest of the city; prudery masquerading as social responsibility.

But what ever happened to the Penthouse Club? Funny story. Because if you read all the news articles, you see them talking about how the city “won” and the club was “closed” and all that, but if you drive up to the 2600 block of Winrock tonight you’ll find that the buffet is fucking OPEN. What happened?

They put pasties on the dancers.

Yes – after a protracted, years-long legal battle, the Penthouse Club was able to continue to operate simply by covering their employees’ morally offensive nipples. All that time and effort and money, to protect the citizens of Houston from the evils of the female breast. Now does this make you feel like you live in a mature, cosmopolitan, vibrant city? Or does it make you feel like you’re in some backwater town in Alabama?

Nipples. That’s what this all came down to, in the end. Female nipples.

Now you might wonder why a blog called “Keep Houston Houston” is so critical of an ordinance that’s been on the books for 12 years. Simple: it hasn’t been enforced. Houston has always been a city with an abundance of strip clubs. Hell, Rick’s is headquartered here. Actually “cracking down” on strip clubs is entirely different than having an unused ordinance on the books. The driveway ordinance which they used to beat around Ashby was from the 1930’s – but the means in which it was used was a substantial departure from past precedent.

Keeping Houston Houston means keeping the strip clubs as-is.

In Praise Of: Obsolete Transportation Standards

Walking along Westheimer at about Stanford-ish. Despite almost all new development in the last 20 years taking the form of suburban-style, parking-in-front strip centers, this section of Westheimer (between Montrose and the Spur) is surprisingly walkable. Why?

Westheimer here squeezes four lanes into a 36′ curb-to-curb section. That’s 9-footers. Metro bus drivers must take both lanes, which does not stop the occasional Lexus SUV from edging over the double yellow to pass them anyway. But what a 36-foot pavement section in a standard 60-foot ROW gives you is two 12′ sidewalks. That fact, coupled with the fine-grained nature of development along that street, is what makes the place walkable.

But this situation is more a product of benign neglect than of intent. Westheimer’s 36-foot section reflects the fact that this was once a two-lane street with parallel parking, a situation for which 36 feet is quite adequate. Later conversion to a “variable-lane” (i.e. no parking at rush hours) and then 24-hour four-lane was done on the cheap, hence the 9-foot lanes. Were this road ever rebuild to the same “compromise” as Kirby Drive, the street section would increase to 42 feet, reducing the pedestrian realm on each side to 9 feet. Now 9 feet is acceptable when the street-side is parking. I’ve patronized at least one Mexican restaurant that squeezes sidewalk dining into an 8-footer. But against 40-mph traffic, 9′ doesn’t work.

This portion of Westheimer works because it’s built to obsolete standards.

It’s not the only one. Consider Allen and Memorial. Both are effectively freeways, yet for whatever reason, the average traffic speeds closely match the speed limits. (this is unheard of in most of Houston). Cars on Allen go about 40, cars on Memorial often do less than 50. Both are deprecated; Allen’s 10-foot lanes date to the 1930s; Memorial’s 11-foot lanes (with vertical curb and no shoulders) date to the 50’s. Neither road could be built today to the same geometry. Neither road could be built to the same standards of aesthetics, or with the same self-enforcing speed limit.

If we redesigned Memorial to a 50mph “design speed” using present standards, the 85th percentile speed would probably be about 65. Obsolescence keeps the road pleasant and safe.

But this situation doesn’t just apply to cars and roads.

Across the commuter rail planning documents, from METRO to H-GAC, you’ll find a 25-foot “standard” railroad track spacing that was handed to them from UP. There is no logical reason for this spacing to exist.

Yes, 25-feet allows oversize loads on one track to pass a sided train on another (how often does this happen?). And yes, it allows a maintenence truck to be driven between any two parked trains. But this is overkill. All around Houston, freights operate on track centers of 13 to 15 feet. I’ve personally measured the railhead-to-railhead spacing at over twenty locations around Houston and I haven’t found a single location that exceeds 16 feet. Moreover, a glance at UP’s own practices outside Houston, in rural areas where it owns significant quantities of land, show that new high-speed trackage is constructed on 16 foot centers.

If 16 feet is adequate for 80mph intercity rail in the middle of the Arizona desert, it’s certainly adequate for 60mph rail in Houston, where land is at a much higher premium. And this is not a trivial matter. 16-foot versus 25-foot track spacing lets you fit three tracks in the space of two. It means you can fit two tracks in a 50′ ROW, not one. It means faster, more frequent, and more reliable rail service.

What do these standards – 25′ spacing on railroad tracks, 12′ and 11′ lanes on urban arterials – have in common?

In both instances, the standards-making bodies are autonomous, divorced from the externalities and cost-benefit analyses of individual projects. If you’re studying widening the tracks down Winter Street for service to a future terminal, you can readily see that a 9-foot difference in track spacing has substantial impacts on the number of historic homes you need to tear down. But the people who can see that aren’t the ones making the standards. The guys making the standards are sitting on standards “committees,” meeting with other people tasked with developing “standards” (often in Washington), and passing it on down to various localities, who then implement it for themselves. They may have substantial industry experience, but when they enter the world of standards groupthink, they’re often idealistic and unrealistic.

So let’s have a moment for the obsolete standards; for wide sidewalks, for narrow lanes, for horizontal curves that force drivers to slow down a little, for railroad tracks squeezed as close together as today’s modern rolling stock will allow.

A funny thing about transit.

So as I’ve mentioned previously, when I returned to Houston in August I didn’t bring a car. I’ve thus spent the past month enjoying the city almost exclusively by Metro.

Earlier today I was on a bus rolling through Midtown when a young couple in an Altima pulled up alongside us. They were both eating Coldstone. Now, I scratch my head – why in the world would you grab expensive, hand-mixed ice cream, only to eat it in the car (while trying to navigate Midtown stoplights, nonetheless!) like a cheap Jack in the Box taco. Using transit exclusively forces you to do everything slower, which isn’t entirely negative.

But it’s got me wondering now. See, in the past month I’ve had absolutely no problems getting to where I want to go. I can grab groceries, visit friends. The other day I took my primary romantic interest to dinner and a movie. We hopped a few buses to the Marq*E, headed back across town on a 20-Long Point to Ninfa’s/Navigation, then grabbed two buses back to her place. Thing is, it was a 3:30pm movie. You can get anywhere on the bus, but you have to do it *early*, because if you stay out too late the buses stop running. Transit doesn’t alter your mobility, it alters your lifestyle.

I can hop a 40-Telephone and grab some extra-large CFS at the Dot Coffee Shop. But I can’t do it at 3am. I can catch a 25-Richmond to the drum and bass night. But to get home will require an expensive cab ride, unless I jet the party when other people are still showing up. Basically, transit has an incredible power to make you square. Which leads me to the question.

Why are so many anti-transit people socially conservative, while so many pro-transit people are socially liberal?

Why are good, solid, “family values” republicans from the suburbs opposed to more transit spending? Transit is about as “family values” as you can get. A solid bus network makes it easy to go to work, go to church, and shop for groceries and diapers. A light rail system gives you the added ability to work two jobs across town to save for your kids’ college tuition. In short: with transit you can be fruitful, multiply, and live the American dream.

But there isn’t a single bus that leaves downtown after last call. Afterparties are out of the question. And all of the really underground shit is happening in warehouses, ranches, and other out-of-the-way places that you might not even be able to get to. The privacy of the personal automobile shields you from the outside world, so your friends can suit up in whatever outfits they fancy before heading to a house party or other social gathering. But on public transportation, odd leers and curious glances are the order of the day.

Mass Transit is the domain of squares: a vast force promoting temperance, moderation, and going to bed early. So why do all the “yea” votes for things like “Metro Solutions” come from the most socially diverse urban districts?

Life is funny like that.

A few problems with “smart” codes.

Andrew over at neoHouston has an excellent post summarizing many of the pros and cons of the current regulatory environment. But there’s more than a few problems with a “smart code” he proposes as a solution.

The biggest issue is scope creep. Yes, in theory, at the initial planning stages, it is perfectly reasonable to think that most of the city would fall into one of “only” four districts. However, once created, the tendency will be to nitpick and divide until there are an extraordinarily large number of districts, overlays, and various other combinations.

A perfect example comes to us from the lovely town of Tacoma, Washington. Now for a decent chunk of the last decade, Tacoma – unlike its larger neighbors to the north and south – has been simplifying its zoning code. But lately they’ve gotten into the “urban centers” thing, and have been creating new zones for these centers with slightly different regulations than the last one. And as it turns out, the boundary of one of these “urban centers” has some overlap with an existing hospital. Now Tacoma already has a hospital-specific zoning code. But new “urban centers” require new zoning. So Tacoma created a new “urban medical” zone SPECIFICALLY for the portion of the hospital property that falls within the “urban center.” The rest is still zoned in the old hospital zone.

Two SEPERATE zones for hospitals. That’s what happens when you start to slice and dice with multicolored maps. But it gets even better!

Andrew is on point when he summarizes the pros and cons of Ashby, but he unfairly blames speculators for the lack of transit-station development along METRORAIL. The truth is, there’s been plenty of TOD along Metro’s light rail line – only in Midtown do vacant lots predominate. And there are a host of reasons why this is so.

First, as we’re all aware, TOD in Midtown is subject to the same one-size-fits-all parking requirements as the most autocentric portions of outer suburbia. Now in most parts of Houston, developers build freestanding parking garages that are separate from the developments they serve, then connect the two with skybridges or breezeways. But Midtown’s city blocks make this impossible. The Camden developments get around it by having multiple blocks connected by ped bridges, so a central garage can serve multiple apartment blocks. But for most developers, this requires that the parking go underground, below the building.

And underground parking in Houston is tre expensivo. Recall what the soils are like here. Then consider that integrating parking (with oil, and exhaust, and the occasional engine fire) with residential requires a significantly higher standard of construction than either use would independently require. This all conspires to make Midtown development difficult and risky.

Finally, there is the issue of the vagrants. A week or two ago I was waiting for the 81/82, late at night, when a random homeless guy pointed out to me what he said was a bullet hole in the bus bench. Now I don’t know that it’s a bullet hole, but the story seems plausible.

It’s a chicken-and-egg situation; the best way to make Midtown pedestrians feel safe is to build a bunch of street-frontage retail that encourages pedestrian activity. However, as long as that retail doesn’t exist, it’s impossible to walk through Midtown without being accosted. Given the unreasonable parking regulations AND the vagrants, it’s a wonder that Midtown has developed the way it has. And we have the nerve to blame the speculators!

Less stick, more carrot. Instead of downzoning, Midtown should be given a “special exemption” from any and all parking regs. Period. And even with that exemption, the current investment environment suggests it’s unlikely we’ll see much movement in the next few years. But back to the original point of this post: dissing the “smart” code.

As far as I’m concerned, the final nail in the coffin is the fact that in a city like Houston, there are no clearly defined boundaries between uses. PERIOD. Andrew has put a lot of work into a map showing what a “smart code” might look like around Ashby, and it scares the crap out of me. Portland flashbacks all over again.

I mean, look at those districts! Look at how the boundaries are drawn to “allow” (cherry-pick) existing developments, while prohibiting new developments of the same intensity immediately next door. Look at that splotch of “T6″ around Wheeler Station. Why does the guy who owns the lots of Wheeler north of 59 get to build a high-rise, but the guy south of 59 only gets 6 stories? Why is there an “SD” on Montrose that includes the bakery but leaves out the Rothko Chapel? What’s with the weird island of whatever-it-is between Almeda and 288?

It’s just whack. This isn’t an indictment of Andrew – any “official” version would probably be just as bad. Rather, it’s an indictment of the very concept of zones. And that’s what the smart code is, zones. They’re not land use zones, but they’re most definitely zones. And that, my friends, is a zoning map. Plain and simple.

and a follow up: Will we need more than one train station?

Not a frivolous question. Boston has two. Philly has three. Chicago has four. (Count ‘em: one, two, three – four!)

Metro’s design for the NIT is based on the Metro commuter rail vision, in which “CRT” primarily serves as a feeder for the LRT network. Metro’s vision would see continuous FRA-compliant commuter CRT from Hempstead to Galveston, a seperate FRA-compliant line along 90A terminating at Fannin South, and a third line along Westpark – which could be any number of technologies, since the Metro-owned ROW doesn’t interchange with any freight railroads. Of these three lines, only the Hempstead-Galveston serves the NIT, so the draft NIT design only has two platforms devoted to commuter rail.

But H-GAC’s commuter rail study envisions a much denser network; lines every which way, much like L.A. or Chicago. Now some of these lines obviously have more potential than others – I see a Galveston-Houston link quickly growing beyond a rush hour system to resemble something more like Caltrain – 7-day, 18-hour service. On the other hand, a Crosby/Dayton line might never see more than a few rush-hour trains in either direction. But even 30-minute peak hour headways on the H-GAC system would quickly overwhelm METRO’s NIT design, which only has three tracks.

A three-track terminal is sufficient for Metro’s vision, since the NIT wouldn’t be a “terminal” at all, but a through station. But it doesn’t hold even half of the trains envisioned by H-GAC.

For whatever reason, the H-GAC commuter rail study *doesn’t* suggest revising the NIT design to accommodate their expanded commuter rail vision. Instead, the H-GAC study team has developed an ingenious workaround to the NIT’s capacity limitations. Here it is, from pages 29 (C-8) and 30 (C-9) of the appendices to the regional commuter rail study.

“Whoa.”

Give them credit for ingenuity, but there’s beauty in simplicity and the present operating concept has neither. Either the NIT needs to be greatly revised (to maybe 10 tracks/6 platforms instead of 3/2), or we may very well need two stations: the NIT, and the Post Office.

Union Friggin’ Station.

I haven’t made up my mind on this issue for two years, so I’m just going to blog about my indecision.

As it stands today, there’s two operating east-west rail lines downtown. The “passenger main,” which goes through the Amtrak station and behind the post office, and the “freight main,” which runs down the center of Winter Street and then through what we now consider Hardy yards.

These names are sort of a misnomer, though, since UP’s SOP is to route as many trains as possible through the passenger main. Two things prevent them from doing this all the time.
1: Amtrak. Amtrak’s schedules are padded to allow for freight delays, so on a day where there *aren’t* any delays, the Houston layover time can approach two hours. Amtrak stops on the main line, so while Amtrak is laid up there the passenger main is off-limits to all others.
2: Grade Crossings in the vicinity of San Jacinto. Trains crawl through this section, regardless of what track they’re on, and a slow-moving train blocking a primary route into and out of downtown is untenable during work hours. Hence, freight trains on the passenger main are pretty much a no-go during normal business hours.

METRO has long had plans to build a “North Intermodal Terminal” about where the freight main crosses Main Street. It ties nicely into the “red line” light rail and could help spark a wave of urban redevelopment.

Thing is, it’s an insanely expensive project. The funding still hasn’t been identified. The existing freight main can’t handle the traffic, and widening it would probably take out a huge swath of historic first ward victorians – which might happen anyway given market forces and our traditionally laissez-faire attitude towards preservation, but is still a hard pill to swallow when happening all at once. And finally, THE OLD STATION IS STILL THERE.

See, everyone in Houston thinks that our old train station was over by Enron Field (this blog does not recognize Minute Maid’s sponsorship deal) and that it’s been preserved as part of the ballpark. But actually, we had TWO stations – the Southern Pacific had their own, seperate from the Astros station, a mission/art deco fusion with beautiful murals on the walls and great big arched windows. Pictures of the place on are few and far between, but the ones I’ve seen show something that rivals LA Union Terminal or PHL 30th.

That station was torn down to make way for the Barbara Jordan P.O., except that ONLY THE WAITING ROOM WAS TORN DOWN. The whole mess of platforms and switchtracks that goes along with an art deco station building is still there, behind the post office, rusted and overgrown but still in existence as a huge chunk of UP-owned real estate. (We were considering using it as a venue for “art” photography until we realized that the abandoned yard area is used as a shortcut by ex-cons walking to and from the halfway house on the north side of the tracks).

There can be no doubt that a station on that site would be orders of magnitude cheaper than Metro’s North Intermodal Terminal concept. The sitework/grading is already done, there’s no complicated tunnels or overpasses to construct. And what’s even better, it’s within walking distance of downtown. Passengers getting off at a North Intermodal Terminal would have to change to a red line LRT to get anywhere in the downtown core, but passengers getting off at the Post Office site would be within a couple hundred yards of the downtown tunnel system.

Cheaper, closer proximity to offices, and – oh yeah – with a couple bypass tracks and an overpass at San Jacinto rolled into the construction cost, we could actually *eliminate* the freight main completely. Instead of demolishing Winter Street, we could rebuild it with a central esplanade.

And the icing on the cake – at least for the crowd who loves to criticize METRO’s every decision – is that from my reading, the Draft EIS location criteria were stacked in favor of the NIT to begin with. Specifically, so much weighting was given to “redevelopment” that only the NIT could possibly win. But the reason the Post Office site lacks potential for redevelopment is that IT’S ALREADY DEVELOPED, AT SOME OF THE HIGHEST DENSITIES IN THE METRO AREA. Now is there a snowball’s chance in hell that whoever revives the Hardy Yards project is going to put in anything remotely similar in scale to the frigging BANK OF AMERICA CENTER? Any higher, and you run into the FAA! (Hobby’s airspace – the ubiquitous FAA upside-down wedding cake – actually caps portions of the downtown skyline).

So this is where I should come out with a website detailing a comprehensive alternative, a new station on the site of the old station, perhaps even with similar architecture. I talk about saving the First Ward and social justice and I invite commentary from people who really couldn’t care less about the station location, but find in my proposal an additional avenue to criticize METRO.

Except, I’m not actually convinced Metro’s wrong.

Major transportation improvements *do* cost money, and they *do* tend to displace other land uses. Every radial freeway in Houston wiped out acres upon acres of residential – is a mile-long swath of houses in the 1st really so bad? Railroad tracks are probably more aesthetic then whatever 4-story schlock Perry would build there, anyway.

And the North Intermodal Terminal is in a better position to add high-speed rail in the future. Outside the loop, HSR would most likely run along the Hempstead corridor – but inside the loop, along Washington, the rail lines are sandwiched between dense development. Future HSR would have to follow IH-10 (there’s ample room in the existing ROW if we just replace Ellifrit’s original 2:1 earthfill with vertical concrete), and trying to bring a HSR line from IH-10 into the Post Office yard site would require a tightly-curved yard throat that I wouldn’t inflict on my N scale trains, let alone full-size ones.

Finally, while it’d be a relatively simple matter to link the Post Office with an extension of the Harrisburg and Southeast LRT lines along Franklin, it’d still necessitate a dual-transfer ride for people wanting to get from the train station to Midtown or the Med Center. The Red Line really is the spine of the city’s transit network, and putting the commuter/regional rail station directly under/over it (as per Metro’s NIT design) really makes the most sense long-term. HSR is an inevitability – it’s just a question of whether we build it in 10 years or 50 – and HSR suggests NIT.

So I don’t know. And I’ve waffled on this issue for something like two years now.

I’m still waffling.

Pinball.

Back in May I packed up and moved in with my family in the Northeast, mostly for financial reasons. But over the summer, two interesting things happened. First, I got a scholarship. This defrayed the cost of attendance for the upcoming schoolyear *just a bit*. Second, my car blew up.

Well not *literally*. But after an estimate of repair costs for my ride came in at about three times the bluebook value, it was clear that ye olde Regal LS was no longer going to work as a daily driver.

No car? Scholarship money just sittin’ there? The choice was obvious: last week I jumped on Amtrak train #19, the westbound Crescent – three days and one night in New Orleans later, I was stepping off at the notoriously-dingy-but-still-lovable Amtrak station under IH-45.

Developing…

The Perils of Zoning in Austin and Portland

Let’s take a break from the saga of street standards to respond to a couple posts on Austin Contrarian:

The first one, the second one, and a response by an infill developer.

In response to the first post, Nick suggests: The [Austin] council really does need to upzone large swaths of the city that’s in the desired development zone proactively so that situations like these can be avoided in the future.

Minor problem with this approach: rather than bring the wrath of a small group of busybodies (as in the Austin Red Bird upzone), you bring the wrath of an entire swath of the city on the planning dept. More to the point, doing this means the planning department either loses the support of the city council, or the city council loses the support of the citizens and gets replaced at the next election by a council that doesn’t support the planners.

This problem is intrinsic to every zoned city.

In a city like Houston, we’re used to freedom, and we have a healthy debate on the pros and cons of both future and past ordinances. We’ve added some (the 27du/acre cap on townhomes), we’ve withdrawn some (the lot size standards), and we’re still debating others: check Kendall Miller’s recent editorializing on how restrictions drafted in response to Ashby may hinder the Urban Corridors. But in a city like Austin – or Portland, or Seattle – zoning often predates the current neighborhood residents. Because the restriction of zoning was there when they got there, and has been there ever since, it has acquired a veil of normalcy. It comes to be accepted.

Upzoning represents an easing of legal burdens, a movement from a more restrictive state (everything is banned except single-family residential) to a less restrictive state (everything is banned except for single-family and duplex residential). But for residents who’ve lived under that zoning for 5, 10, or 20 years, it appears as an increased burden. The upzone is a change in the status quo, and the status quo is entrenched far enough that change is psychologically difficult.

In Portland, Oregon, there are two maps. The planning map is the result of the METRO planning agency’s analysis of the region’s demand for growth, the amount of new construction required to accommodate that growth, and the “best” way to allocate it among the various centers and “sub-centers.” The zoning map represents the legal restrictions as they exist on the ground at that time.

The zoning map is *always* more restrictive than the planning map. The region’s actual capacity for growth, as determined by its laws, is always less than what the planners think it needs.

Why? Mass downzones are no problem, because mass downzones only effect developers, and all developers are evil. If you live in a 5,000 square foot lot that gets downzoned to a 10,000 square foot minimum zoning district, you don’t notice a difference. But mass upzones result in populist uproar. Mass upzones are done at the behest of a technocratic elite (the planning department) at the expense of Joe citizen, who just wants his neighborhood to look exactly the same as it did 20 years ago when he bought his house. Is that so wrong? Fact is, once the single-family or residential designation has been in place for several decades, change is politically impossible.

So how does Portland deal with this? They take a measured approach. Portland focuses its biggest, headline redevelopment projects on nonresidential areas. The “Pearl District,” a mostly built-out clump of midrise condominiums and trendy street-frontage retail, replaced a neighborhood of warehouses, tattoo parlors, and a giant rail yard. And the up-and-coming South Waterfront district is being built over what was once shipyards and freight transfer facilities. Avoiding NIMBYism is easy when there aren’t any backyards to begin with.

But this only works for dense development: it’s not cost-effective for duplexes. So Portland follows a time-honored urban planning tradition: they put it all in poor and minority neighborhoods.

A look at the map shows you what’s up:

Beige and yellow are single-family. Blue is multi-family. Gray is industrial, red is “central commercial,” and purple is an odd little zone called EXd that’s supposedly geared towards “employment” but actually allows an unlimited number of residential units subject to the FAR restrictions.

First off, note the VAST SWATHS of beige. These are single-family residential with 5,000 square foot lot minimums. Next note the downtown CXd/EXd splotch and its purply-red fingers: Pearl District to the north, Lloyd Center to the east, South Waterfront to the south. What’s left?

Look at the blue. Interstate Avenue, which runs up west of I-5, got light rail service in 2004, so you’d expect to see multifamily there. But notice how asymmetrical it is? To the west, where white people live in “nice” neighborhoods, the multifamily falls off after a block or so. But to the east, where 50 years of I-5 traffic noise have reduced property values (and the socioeconomic class of neighborhood inhabitants), the zoning extends all the way up to the freeway. You’d expect this to be symmetrical.

Now check the other blue. There’s a big splotch of blue in the southeast near Powell and 39th. These are small, narrow homes built for industrial workers along SP’s rail yards. And there’s another splotch of blue to the north, along the inner portion of Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. I’ll let you make your own associations.

In short, the Portland zoning map is a vast swath of single-family residential and local service commercial, punctuated by splobs of dense development overlaid on (i) formerly nonresidential districts and (ii) poor and minority neighborhoods. Such is the way things evolve when you combine longstanding restrictive zoning codes and representative democracy. There is simply no politically feasible way to upzone most single-family residential neighborhoods.

Thankfully, Houston never had these regs. It’s a city completely free of the scourge of 40-, 50-, and 60-year-old zoning ordinances. And the developers of our older neighborhoods had the foresight to create deed restrictions that expired, so that single-family neighborhoods could in time grow and reach their highest potential. Thus does new development occur not just in formerly-poor areas like Washington, but also in established trendy areas like the Montrose, the Med Center, Kirby, and a hundred other places.

A note to Don Johnson: if you ever decide to move south, keep in mind that we have eminently sensible civil engineering standards regarding stormwater runoff. The pipes are beefy, and we promise not to make you pay $20,000 of in-lieu fees for not building a mosquito trap on your projects’ front lawns.