Having a quality streetscape is beyond important, and one essential elements of this is having buildings that address the street. But, what if the street isn’t any good? Should buildings still address it? What happens when a street is just no good?

The River Crossing Apartments in St. Paul are pretty good. It’s St. Paul’s largest project in recent memory; and it’s an infill project, dense, nicely landscaped, moderately well designed, connected to transit and near the great biking and walking paths along the Mississippi River. It can be a little bland, but all-in-all, it ain’t bad.

The problem I once had was that it did a poor job of connecting people to the street. It mostly ignores the street, although the landscaping and tree plantings look genuinely good. If you walk around the development, you’ll notice that most of the 1st floor apartments are elevated a good distance from street level (here’s an example of where the entrance to the building is elevated much higher than street-grade). This gives the complex an uncomfortable, disconnected feel.

New buildings that are forced to accommodate a bad street, or to create a good street that’s worth accommodating? Before criticizing the development for doing this, I wanted to put myself in the shoes of the developer. I asked myself, “what benefit does this development gain from accommodating the street?” None. Nothing. No benefit whatsoever.

West 7th Street and South Davern make up a very unattractive section of town. What was once a stop on the extensive Twin Cities Rapid Transit streetcar system turned into a series of strip malls, parking lots, gas stations and fast food restaurants.

The apartment building abuts a drive-thru Taco Bell, BP gas station, an abandoned gas station, a strip mall and a large “park-n-ride” for the airport. The complex is an island, and I can’t blame the developers for taking that route. Would you want to open your front door and walk out towards a ‘park-n-ride’?

Like downtown’s 7 corners, this is certainly another corner that has devolved. There are certainly more influential factors at play here, such as additional cost of digging the underground parking, elevated floors for better views of the river and the perception of increased safety, etc. Long articles could be written about each of these examples. The point here is: why accommodate the street when there is nothing to engage?

This is where I get stuck: from a policy stand-point, what direction do you take this? Force developers to accommodate the street – even when it’s a really bad street? Or, allow infill developers some leniency at first, then buckle down once the urban fabric starts to eventually recover?

One remedy would be to immediately stop devolving our streets and roadways. The Nokohaha Blog occasionally runs a feature called “Then and Now“. It takes a photograph of a building in the Twin Cities  from sometime in the past 100 years, and compares it to how it looks today. The most noticeable feature of the “Now” is how we’ve so aggressively degraded our urban environment to accommodate the automobile.

A few months ago, they ran a “Then and Now” at the intersection of Franklin and Lyndale Avenues.

This is 1920.

This is now.

This is a perfect example of how streetscapes in the Twin Cities have devolved. But, let’s use this historic photograph as a quick learning tool and analyze what exactly went wrong here.

For starters, the building is the most noticeably uglier. A majority of the large windows facing the street have been covered; and sometime in the last 90 years, someone thought it was a good idea to put some wood paneling over the original brick facade. This building no longer accommodates the street. Instead, it tries to pretend it isn’t there.

To accommodate the automobile, the sidewalks were downgraded from pleasant to unsightly. The road got wider and the sidewalks got smaller. The green buffer of grass and trees that once lined street were replaced with pavement that serves on-street parking. And, as the road widened to accommodate the need for more traffic, the once-bricked street got covered in blacktop and the streetcar tracks were removed.

One might think that car-oriented urban transformations, like Franklin and Lyndale Avenues, would halt most pedestrian activity. This hasn’t been the case. In fact, this might be one of the busiest intersections in all of Minneapolis – and that is why it’s so hard to believe this corner looks like this.

The surrounding neighborhood is dense and walkable (walk score: 82) and countless small businesses, such as cafes, pubs and retail shops, line the streets. So, it’s surprising more care hasn’t gone into transforming this intersection into something other than a means of moving automobiles as quickly and conveniently as possible.

This leads me back to my original question: What happens when a street is just no good? Well, it looks like we’ll have to start with streets (possibly some road-diets) and go from there.

The old URL http://natesjobsearch.wordpress.com did its job. The whole “job search thing” did eventually work out – and I have a job now. It’s going well. That’s why I decided to drop it and go with “www.nathanielhood.com” – It’s my name and I’ve dropped “.wordpress.com“. And it (surprisingly) only cost $5 to do so. It’s still the same old site though (and natesjobsearch.wordpress.com should redirect you automatically).

I wanted to go with www.natehood.com, but someone is cybersquatting. This site redirects to a questionably-legit marketing website out of Idaho that bills itself as “Idaho’s #1 Golf Course Marketing Company Since 2006“. In all fairness, they are offering an awesome deal at Boise Ranch Gold Course – 10 rounds on the 18 hole course for $99.95.

[Here is a nice road in Northern Michigan - somewhere by Lake Superior]

About a decade ago, Saturday Night Live did a skit that epitomized the spirit of the late 1990s. In a mock 2000 Presidential debate, Al Gore (played by Darrell Hammond) responds to each question in an exquisitely monotone voice saying “lockbox”. Upon each utterance, laughter and applause erupted. Soon enough, the word ‘lockbox’ ceased being an idea worthy of consideration and became something synonymous absurdity.

The SNL skit is unquestionably funny, but our cultural write-off of the ‘lockbox’ is not. For those younger than myself and unfamiliar with this ‘lockbox’ concept, let me explain. In 2000, then Vice-President Al Gore proposed this bizarre idea: the government should save money.

The ‘lockbox’ concept didn’t vibe in the era of tech market booms and the inflated housing fiasco. The idea that when the government runs a surplus, it should save money for future obligations just didn’t seem all that important.

Now, fast-forward twelve years to a much different existence and add a Strong Towns flare. It’s not just that we’ve invested in an inefficient infrastructure system with a low return on investment – it’s also how we’ve decided to acquire the money we’ve spent on this is inefficient infrastructure system.

The United States funds infrastructure largely through debt. This means that a $10 million road is not a $10 million road as associated costs are incurred through interest and other debt service payments. Chuck put it best: “Our current approach to infrastructure spending is impoverishing us as a country.”

The rudimentary idea of saving money for a rainy day (or creating a ‘lockbox’) has completely eluded us at the local level. We’ve ignored the simple principles of finance that parents attempt to instill in their growing children: save money and steer clear of the pitfalls of debt.

So, a local government wants to pursue a straightforward road project. Today, they can do it through a handful of ways. Most all of them require some form of debt. Depending on the road and its jurisdiction, cities can apply for Federal or State aid grants through various agencies, levy nearby property owners and developers, or raise the money locally through the issuing of bonds.

Even in the most localized and conservative of these situations, one where adjacent property owners or developers are charged for the “improvements,” doesn’t typically cover the full costs of the design, construction and maintenance. The rest is financed through debt from either the local, state or federal level, or some combination of the three (This is well-documented in the Strong Towns Curbside Chat Companion Booklet).

If communities want to be resilient, they’ll need to start making plans to transition away from traditional infrastructure financing mechanisms. Why? Because it rolls downhill: the Federal government cuts their budget by bleeding the States. The States pass those cuts down to the local level. This happened in Minnesota; local government aid was slashed and community balance sheets instantly became lopsided.

If, and when, the Federal or state government turns off the faucet, how will local governments pay for infrastructure? Under the current system, local governments won’t be able to. They have their hands tied.

In Minnesota, local governments can’t legally raise sales tax for an ambiguous future infrastructure projects or even put away money into a ‘lockbox’ savings account for long-term maintenance obligations. And, even if they could - it would need to be approved by the State legislature. As if to say, that a House of Representatives member from Fergus Falls should have any say whatsoever in the Mankato City Council’s decision, and subsequent approved community-wide referendum, to (for example) approve a .15 percent sales tax increase on alcohol (or gas, clothes, etc.) to support a small-scale local infrastructure project.

We can’t maintain the local infrastructure we have today under our current framework. If we want anything to change, we have to allow communities to get creative. As alarming (or funny) as it might sound, we need to allow cities and towns to have a ‘lockbox’. There are other options out there, but the most plain, simple, and uncomplicated way we can start doing this is through savings. Yes, that bizarre idea of setting money aside for the benefit of future generations.

This time around, instead of ‘lockbox’ – how about we go with something less Al Gore-esque? May I suggest local infrastructure bank?

Critics say Lake Elmo’s anti-growth bias is obvious when you look at what’s happened in neighboring cities. Those neighbors have eagerly welcomed malls, factories, offices. [Pioneer Press, Jan. 29, 2012].

To those unfamiliar, Lake Elmo is a quaint, little town east of St. Paul. The town held its own throughout the years of combative suburban land use practices and lawsuits. Today, minus a few sub-division here and there, it has maintained its rural village character while its neighbors to the north, south, east and west have sprawled out. Lake Elmo provides a positive break in the otherwise endless and monotonous rows of snout house, vinyl-clad subdivisions and cul-de-sacs of the east metro.

In an effort to stop leap-frog development, a 2003 lawsuit from the Metropolitan Council mandated Lake Elmo accommodate growth within its boundaries – and businesses and developers appear to have been pestering Lake Elmo ever since. A Pioneer Press article from earlier this week (“Lake Elmo: Small, and shrinking“) addressed recent concerns from some in the local business community.

The city is shrinking as landowners yank their property out in favor of neighboring areas. Landowners say they are fleeing a bias against business that prevents them from building stores, offices or malls along busy highways. [Pioneer Press, Jan. 29, 2012].

The article was sparked by a 58 acre parcel in the northeast corner of Lake Elmo moving into the hands of Stillwater Township (which will likely become a strip mall by year’s end). Other land owners, especially those along bordering suburbs, are actively trying to remove small parcels from Lake Elmo’s control. The article continues:

City officials say they favor growth – as long as they can preserve the city’s image as a slow-paced rural enclave.

“I love Lake Elmo. It is a jewel. But it can be so easily changed, and if you mess it up, you can’t return it,” said former Mayor Susan Dunn. “We don’t need places with a million lights and flashing neon.”

It seems to be that Lake Elmo isn’t so much ‘anti-growth‘, but more so ‘carefully planning to preserve a worthwhile local culture.‘  Well, what do the critics have to say about it?

Critics say Lake Elmo’s anti-growth bias is obvious when you look at what’s happened in neighboring cities. Those neighbors have eagerly welcomed malls, factories, offices. Businesses pay a higher property tax rate, employ people and draw people into a community.

[...] Lake Elmo is roughly the geographic size of Woodbury, with similar access to freeways. But it has one-eighth the population, and one- fifteenth the retail sales. That is the result of the city’s long history of avoiding, discouraging or fighting growth.

First of all, when they say “growth” they are referring to what Strong Towns calls “The Growth Ponzi Scheme”. In other words, that our current financial problems at the local level are not, as some suggest, a lack of growth. Yet, our problem is 60 years of unproductive growth — “growth that has buried us in financial liabilities.” Lake Elmo has few of these liabilities whereas places lake Woodbury have many.

Fact of the matter is, Lake Elmo will likely be in a better financial position in the long-run because it doesn’t have this “growth” – and the long-term liabilities that come with such financially unproductive land uses. In a nutshell, this constitutes our misconceptions of growth – that any new development must be good for the community as long as it a brings near-term property tax increase.

Lake Elmo  saved itself at the expense of others, of whom now struggle with that growth in an age of economic austerity. It’s hard to feel bad for those communities though, they welcomed “growth” with open arms.

It doesn’t appear if stopping sprawl is one of Lake Elmo’s primary goals; the town merely wants to maintain rural character and charm. Over the last two decades, Lake Elmo seems unfazed by sprawl happening elsewhere – they just didn’t want it in their backyard. In reading the article, you’ll discover that Lake Elmo did created an unfortunate zoning code that favors one home per 2 acres, which can be classified as ‘rural sprawl’. Yet, this sprawl never really happened because of the municipality’s unwillingness to extend sewerage lines and more difficult and rigorous approval process. Now , as it stands today, Lake Elmo revised its master plan to promote development near its existing downtown-village-like infrastructure.

The article continues:

Lake Elmo officials have often vowed that their small town would never become “another Woodbury” – saying that the fast-growing city is too commercial and too densely developed. But landowner Nass thinks otherwise.

“I wish we were like another Woodbury,” Nass said. “Woodbury is successful, to my way of thinking.”

Interesting. He wishes it were like another Woodbury? When someone mentions Woodbury, I think of this:

Epic sprawl. Large roads. Malls. Big boxes. Underwater mortgages, and I can’t help but think the Arcade Fire specifically sings about Woodbury. Lake Elmo on the other hand is pastoral, pleasant, scenic, appropriately-scaled to a rural economy and has a walkable small-town downtown residential neighborhood. It has interesting buildings and working farms. For me, Lake Elmo is a place. Woodbury isn’t.

Let’s bring it around to how this article started, with a quote:

Critics say Lake Elmo’s anti-growth bias is obvious when you look at what’s happened in neighboring cities. Those neighbors have eagerly welcomed malls, factories, offices.

Is Lake Elmo “anti-growth”?

Not really. The town just wants growth in the right places. And can you fault them? Certainly, this country doesn’t need another Woodbury.

If Lake Elmo’s critics would have spent 15 minutes glancing over the town’s master plan, they would’ve realized numerous parcels of land are available for commercial, mixed-use and single-family home developments. To developers frustration, it just so happens, none of these places happen to be along the interstate and none of them will allow them to put up a cinder-block box.

This isn’t to say Lake Elmo is a utopia. It’s not perfect, and there is no question in my mind that the town’s restrictive regulations did result in leap frog sprawl that now extends into Wisconsin (and may need a new, expensive bridge to accommodate). Yet, the damage is done. Damage has been halted by a housing / financial / jobs crisis. The sprawl is not likely to be built anytime soon; and unfortunately, neither is Lake Elmo’s master plan.

The headline is a little deceiving. For starters, Lake Elmo isn’t that small and it certainly isn’t shrinking. The population is around 8,000, but geographically it’s about the size of Woodbury. Nevertheless, this is what the Pioneer Press titled a recent article about Lake Elmo’s apparent development woes ["Lake Elmo: Small, and shrinking"].

The city is shrinking as landowners yank their property out in favor of neighboring areas. Landowners say they are fleeing a bias against business that prevents them from building stores, offices or malls along busy highways. [Pioneer Press, Jan. 29, 2012].

This is certainly true. A few landowners have petitioned to be annexed by adjacent municipalities; some have had success doing this, while others have not.

The former Mayor, Susan Dunn, sheds some light on the issue at hand:

City officials say they favor growth – as long as they can preserve the city’s image as a slow-paced rural enclave.

“I love Lake Elmo. It is a jewel. But it can be so easily changed, and if you mess it up, you can’t return it,” said former Mayor Susan Dunn. “We don’t need places with a million lights and flashing neon.”

It seems to be that Lake Elmo isn’t so much ‘anti-growth‘ – but more so ‘carefully planning to preserve a worthwhile local culture.‘ Well, what do the critics have to say about it?

Critics say Lake Elmo’s anti-growth bias is obvious when you look at what’s happened in neighboring cities. Those neighbors have eagerly welcomed malls, factories, offices. Businesses pay a higher property tax rate, employ people and draw people into a community.

[...] Lake Elmo is roughly the geographic size of Woodbury, with similar access to freeways. But it has one-eighth the population, and one- fifteenth the retail sales. That is the result of the city’s long history of avoiding, discouraging or fighting growth.

First of all, when they say “growth” they are referring to what Strong Towns calls “The Growth Ponzi Scheme”. In other words, that our current financial problems at the local level are not, as some suggest, a lack of growth. Instead, our problem is 60 years of unproductive growth — “growth that has buried us in financial liabilities.” Lake Elmo has few of these liabilities whereas places lake Woodbury many!

It doesn’t appear if stopping sprawl is one of Lake Elmo’s primary goals – the town merely wants to maintain rural character and charm [It should be noted that Lake Elmo has some sub-divisions, just not very many]. On one hand, Lake Elmo has created an unfortunate zoning code that favors one home per 2 acres, which can be classified as ‘rural sprawl’. Yet, sprawl never really happened because of the municipality’s unwillingness to extend sewerage lines and more difficult and rigorous approval process.

The Pioneer Press article continues:

Lake Elmo officials have often vowed that their small town would never become “another Woodbury” – saying that the fast-growing city is too commercial and too densely developed. But landowner Nass thinks otherwise.

“I wish we were like another Woodbury,” Nass said. “Woodbury is successful, to my way of thinking.”

He wishes it were like another Woodbury? Interesting. Recently I was having a discussion with a fellow urbanist on the subject of “least environmentally and economically unsustainable Twin Cities suburbs” – we both immediately and unanimously narrowed it down to two: Maple Grove and Woodbury.

When someone mentions Woodbury, I think of this:

Epic sprawl. Large roads. Malls. Big boxes. Underwater mortgages [On a side note: I can't help but think the Arcade Fire was specifically singing about Woodbury]. Lake Elmo on the other hand is pastoral, pleasant, scenic, appropriately-scaled to a rural economy and has a walkable small-town downtown residential neighborhood. It has interesting buildings and working farms.

THIS CONCLUDES WORKSHOP #2 … I’VE GOT A TON MORE TO WRITE ABOUT THIS TOPIC! If you’ve got something you’d like to share – please do so!

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The best stadium site got snubbed, at least according to Steve Berg in the Star Tribune.

Perhaps we’ve just witnessed the ultimate NIMBY encounter: America’s two most powerful religions squaring off against each other, with Christianity telling the National Football League: Not in my back yard! Build a Vikings stadium if you must, but not next door to the Basilica of St. Mary. [Star Tribune, January 26, 2012]

This is a rare occasion; one which I disagree with the usually spot-on columnist Steve Berg. Berg’s arguments refuting Basilica of St. Mary’s Rev. John Bauer’s aren’t necessarily wrong. In fact, he points out sizable holes in Bauer’s objection to the Linden Avenue site. Yet, none of this matters because Berg’s downtown aspirations are all wrong.

Berg, along with the Minneapolis Downtown Council, want to create a downtown sports district centered around Target Field, a new Vikings stadium and the renovated Target Center. While the 2025 plan is admirable and addresses a handful of important issues, it misses the mark on the stadium issue [Read Streets.MN commentary here].

The question we should be asking ourselves: do we even want large “entertainment / sports districts”?

LA Live might be the ‘best case scenario‘ for entertainment districts. LA Live is a vast entertainment complex in downtown LA, with theatres, music venues and shops adjacent the Staples Center and the vast Los Angeles Convention Center. The problem with these large, mega structures side by side by side is that it is really no place at all. I’d call it: “When Mega Structures Collide” … In spectacular prose, Christopher Hawthorne of the LA Times writes of the mega project’s faults:

[LA Live] is relentlessly focused on creating its own wholly separate commercial universe: a brighter, more strategically frenzied place than the world outside its doors … The trouble is that the new buildings … have almost nothing to say to or about downtown Los Angeles. Clad in glass and panels of metal and limestone, they are adamant in their sleek placelessness. Their primary concern is matching, in palette and spirit, the Staples Center next door.

When you get right down to it, their architecture is fundamentally not really architecture at all but an extensive series of armatures on which the developer and its tenants can hang logos, video screens and a sophisticated range of lighting effects.

[...] The implications of the L.A. Live model for the future of the city are broader than they might appear. It’s not simply that AEG has given Los Angeles another outdoor mall, in this case a good deal bigger and flashier than the average one. When we trap the energy of an urban crowd inside this sort of self-contained world, and when we allow developers and their architects to heighten the differences between that world and the streets around it so dramatically, we help keep the rest of our blocks underused and, as pieces of the city, undernourished. [LA Times, December 03, 2008]

This is the likely end-result of a new Minnesota Vikings stadium; being “fundamentally not really architecture at all but an extensive series of armatures on which the developer and its tenants can hang logos, video screens and a sophisticated range of lighting effects.” Sports and entertainment districts seem to have a strong black hole effect – even the ‘best case scenario’ style of LA Live (which has a retail outdoor mall element that will not be present with a new Vikings stadium). This isn’t too say LA Live was totally a bad thing - on the up-side, it did cover up a large open-surface parking lot in downtown LA and is very accessible by public transit.

Now, let’s compare ‘entertainment / sports districts‘ in smaller markets – outside LA, New York, Boston, Etc.. Here’s a game: see if you can notice any ‘anti-urban‘ happenings in the surrounding land use.

Cincinnati, Ohio: [link]

Phoenix, Arizona: [link]

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: [link]

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: [link]

Denver, Colorado: [link & link]

Parking lots, and open surface parking lots, seem to be epidemic. There are role models out there though. My favorite exceptions to the “stadium rule” include Baltimore & Chicago. It seems to me that we should build a downtown that revolves around people, not once-in-a-while sports entertainment districts.

MORE ON THIS COMING SOON!

“Take the Pritzker Prize-winning architecture firm of Herzog & de Meuron, point them at that epitome of urban blight, the parking lot, and the result is the latest Miami Beach spectacle: part event space, part garage, part penthouse.” – Vanity Fair, Feb. 2012 – They Paved Paradise and Live in a Parking Lot

[Retail / Parking Garage / Event Center / Penthouse: 1111 Lincoln Road, Miami Beach, FL]

Adjacent to the much unloved late-1960s brutalist SunTrust Bank building is some new construction. It’s a parking garage with a lot going on …

“The mixed use development called 1111 Lincoln Road in Miami Beach comprises four different parcels. An existing building, the former Suntrust building, is renewed since the bank has left the building to be accommodated around the corner. A mixed use structure for parking, retail and a private residence becomes attached to the Suntrust building. A two-story building with the relocated bank on the ground floor and four residences on the upper floor faces Alton Road, with a landscaped alley and surface parking lot behind it” – ArcSpace.com 

I can’t wrap my mind around whether I love or hate 1111 Lincoln Road. It’s certainly an enigma. It could possibly be considered a ‘best-case scenario‘ parking garage, with its street level retail along a pedestrian mall and it’s incorporation of residential condos. Yet, at the end of the day, it’s still a parking garage and serves to a somewhat destructive function. And the icing on top of the cake – it’s a parking structure in a dense, walkable neighborhood (and on a pedestrian mall).

I certainly can’t fault anyone for living here, especially considering that Miami Beach is simultaneously warmer than Minnesota and undoubtedly cooler. The interior design is phenomenal. Of course, such is to be expected in multimillion dollar condos. Yet, I can’t get over that this is just another absurd exercise in wacky and soon-to-be irrelevant post-modernism.

It was 1998. I was in middle school.

Like most kids growing up in the Midwest, I played sports and loved professional football. I grew up watching football every Autumn Sunday with my dad and brothers – and when the games weren’t on, I’d be with my brothers playing football games on Sega Genesis in the basement.  The one thing we rarely did was attend Vikings games. Needless to say,  I was surprised when I found out we were going to the now infamous 1998 NFC Championship game. I was excited in the way only teenagers get excited, with restless giddiness, nervousness and anxiety.

I vividly remember game day. As seen through my eyes as a young teenager, the environment of the Metrodome was one of high spirits. We were going to the Super Bowl of course! Zealous overconfidence  was abound; a 15-1 regular season can do that.

The Dome was alive! It was exciting (and I’ve never seen it like that since). Pedestrians dressed head-to-toe in purple inhabited downtown, countless street vendors were selling hot dogs, hats and Vikings swag, and live sport radio shows were booming from nearby booths. Inside the bubble, it was packed, loud and emotions were running high.

The Atlanta Falcons kept it close, but it looked like a solid Vikings victory … until … well, a kick that shall live in infamy. Gary Anderson botched his first field goal of the year, giving the Falcons some much needed vigor. The tone immediately changed, the game went into overtime and the Falcon’s won. The once booming Dome turned to a heart-breaking, funeral-like uncomfortable silence.

When the final buzzer sounded, I remember looking over to my left and seeing a middle-aged man, dressed in purple and gold with matching face paint, screaming obscenities before breaking out in tears. I was stunned. Is this acceptable adult behavior? Walking out of the Metrodome, I quickly realized that the ill-tempered, screaming, crying fan wasn’t the exception.

This was a transformative moment. I knew at this very moment, at the unstable age of 13, that I would never become a die-hard Vikings fan. I just didn’t have it in me. I just didn’t care. Don’t get me wrong, I was shattered at the sight of an unexpected loss, but seeing grown men curse, punch seats and shed tears – I wanted no part of this.

This is the psychology stadium opponents are dealing with; a near-irrational fandom that won’t take “no” for an answer. This crying adult, dressed in the team’s tribal colors, is exactly why it’s an effort in futility to offer academic arguments and present the litany of dry, albeit  well-researched, economic papers in hopes of persuasion.  These will all fall on deaf ears to those who have spent their entire lives following the annual 16 week ups and downs of the Minnesota  Vikings.

Every weekend from late August to mid December, parked on the couch with a few beers with close friends and family in tow – this is our culture. And, when fans aren’t watching the games, they’re spending countless hours online or listening to sports talk radio, speculating about what the organization will do next. They are fearful that this will all disappear unless we act now – to give a private company $630 million for a facility used 10 times a year.

These arguments of “creating jobs” and “economic development” are dead-ends. Stadium proponents know this. Study after study concludes the same thing – there is no noticeable economic impact and job creation is temporary. This doesn’t matter. Stadium proponents aren’t trying to win over objectors, they’re trying to convince themselves. This is not acceptable adult behavior, but it is the norm.

[If you're curious to know my thoughts on the matter, they are identical to those opinions beings expressed at the well-written blog, The Deets by Ed Kohler]

Izzy’s is expanding. Owners Jeff Sommers and Lara Hammel plan to build an ice cream factory in Minneapolis. They’ve put in an offer for a city-owned empty lot near the Guthrie Theater. If all goes according to plan, the facility will be up and running by spring 2013. [Pioneer Press, Dec. 16, 2011]

Great! The City of Minneapolis is getting a great locally-owned ice cream shop, right?

Shamrock Development of Coon Rapids said it can’t build its planned 12-story, 150-unit apartment building across from Gold Medal Park if the city follows through on the sale of an adjacent lot to Izzy’s Ice Cream. Shamrock Development believes noise and trucks from the factory would make the new apartments “no longer a viable project.” [Finance & Commerce, Nov. 8, 2011]

It brings up the question: can condos co-exist with light industrial uses?

In the Mill City Times, writer David Tinjum criticizes the proposal as being more a factory than a retail operation and that “Regardless of what is being produced, once approved and constructed it will remain a factory regardless of which company owns the building.  Future owners of the building will not need any approval from the City of Minneapolis for any use allowed under the Minneapolis Zoning Ordinances.” [Mill City Times, Jan. 13, 2012]

In a follow-up piece, Tinjum continues by criticizing the financing behind the project.

[For more in-depth analysis on the number, visit "CPED Needs a New Calculator"]

The numbers certainly look bad for Izzy’s. But, assuming the numbers were equal: would a small, light industrial site be inappropriate for the neighborhood that was, up until about 20 years ago, heavy industry? Does it matter that there are other light-industrial uses nearby?

The Izzy’s conundrum isn’t as easy as the question implies. In this particular situation, the proposed building is drawing some fire. It’s a one-story building that may not have a large retail storefront. Now, it might be premature to criticize the model without seeing more detailed renderings, but the one-story use may be a poor use for land that abuts Minneapolis’ newest park.

Let’s go back to the question; can condos co-exist with light industrial uses?

What are you thoughts? Share them in the comments section below, or if you were interested, make a comment at the thread over at the Minnescraper Forums. You can read a different version of this post over at Streets.MN.

In the Twin Cities, skyways have worked their way into the cultural vernacular probably more than was intended by their original designers. A few connections quickly turned into a culture of second level retail that eventually pulled retail away from the street; and whether we like it or not, skyways have become a staple of our urban culture. We have this contradictory relationship with them in the sense that we willingly accept their shortcomings, but can’t do anything about them. The psychology of previous investment hits home; it’s infrastructure that we’ve invested in! We can’t just throw it away? Can we?

Enter: the urban highway.

Cities across the country (and globe) have decided that  urban freeways could be turned into parks and development opportunities. In American urban planning circles, freeway destruction seems to be becoming ever more popular. TED talks have been dedicated to the topic. But – can it be done in the Twin Cities?

If the Twin Cities were to rid themselves of one highway, what one would it be? Or, what segment of one highway could be removed?

I – 94:

While Interstate 94 through the core neighborhoods caused tremendous damage, it is a major artery that would probably be unwise to remove. Too many issues would arise from removing 94; both politically and economically. It is an interstate and would require the cooperation of the Federal government and problems of traffic re-routing would be difficult, if not impossible. Even if it were torn down, there might not be a good ROI in respect to the cost of a tear down. Unfortunately it appears as if we are stuck with 94 and its current alignment.

I – 35W/E:

Similar problems that arise with 94 are present here. 35W and 35E have turned into high-volume traffic corridors. However, a case could be made to re-route traffic from 35E between the Mississippi River and downtown St. Paul on Shepard Road. Although this section of 35E could be turned into an amazing park and add associated development (to increase ROI), it might be difficult due to the topography.

I – 394: 

Like the others, difficulties present themselves in removing I394. Yet, there is one small segment that looks like a near-perfect candidate for removal:

There is a small stretch of 394 that leads into the Warehouse District (and into parking garages). Many options are available for this segment: parkland with bike path, development opportunities or a possible park/re-route of the proposed Southwest Corridor light rail. This section however, doesn’t have one thing that makes most urban highway tear downs successful: water.

It appears as if most all success urban highway removals add connectivity to waterfronts. This highway removal wouldn’t be adding that connection. Now, imagine how cool this could be if someone with graphic design skills could whip it up!

While I have limited this short analysis to the local interstate system, highways and other large roads could be candidates. What are your thoughts? Is urban highway removal possible in the Twin Cities? If so, where?