A Strange Non-Departure

Renee Glover, the much-criticized but long-lived CEO of the Atlanta Housing Authority, was supposed to have resigned before too long, though she was ostensibly never fired. To this day, she seems to be hanging on. She presided over the demolition of every housing project in the city, a crusade for which she was despised by some.

All I can say is that rumors of Mayor Reed's staff ganging up on a city departmental executive are harmful to city government's credibility, no matter how true they are, or even how deserved it was. To the average citizen, it is made to seem like either a monarchy with excessive executive control, or a dysfunctional joke of office politics and vendettas from all directions.

You Really Can Say Something

Due to unforseen circumstances, I literally phoned in this post, and have just now had the chance to edit it. However, I wanted to let everyone know that my attendance at the City Council meeting today went very well. I had a conversation with some higher ranking people in the police department and they were very receptive to my concerns.

I was advised by Council, however, that neighborhood organizations are an ideal first stop if one wishes to discuss important issues. Every resident of the city is entitled to attend monthly meetings at their local NPU. Many other neighborhood groups also exist, such as the Downtown Neighborhood Association, which meets just as often. Usually, City Council meets with a predetermined agenda of items to discuss and vote on, and it is imperative to at least know some of these.

I encourage everybody with concerns to attend the City Council public meetings relevant to those concerns; if you articulate them well enough, the response you get may surprise you.

To Protect and Serve Whom?

The abortive traffic stop of Mayor Reed's brother has finally produced a casualty in the police department, at least for fifteen days. The commander of Zone 4, Major Rodney Bryant, was found to have personally intervened in the traffic stop and pardoned Tracy Reed, despite his license having expired six years before and the existence of a warrant for his arrest. It was the second time he had rescued Tracy in such a way.

I haven't let this burst of nepotism alone bother me more than it should, but in the first Journal-Constitution article I linked to, the Mayor is quoted as insisting that he didn't request his older brother's special treatment. I, personally, can't fathom another reason for Maj. Bryant to go to such inane lengths to shield Tracy Reed from, of all things, the law. Why would Bryant even fear punishment if such favorable treatment contradicted the Mayor's will, or worse, his orders? Has Mayor Reed been caught in a lie?

Ostensibly, to atone for such blatant favoritism, the city has toughened it's vehicle use policy somewhat. This is only prudent; perhaps there linger yet more city employees who have been abusing a portion of the 4,673 city-issued vehicles. There's no implication, of course, that this will foil the undue generosity of a Mayor who appears to value his friends and family over the integrity demanded of his title.

How to Get Rid of Hustlers

Early this morning, while walking a friend of mine to the Garnett MARTA station, I found the sidewalk resolutely blocked by four or five men, aged from about their late 20s to early 40s. Slicing through the crowd as I usually do, we were then both offered anything from weed to crack by the group. I answered "no," evidently too sternly for their liking, as I was met then by a barrage of loud disapproval and provocative phrases for a good thirty seconds or more. Of course, when I returned home on the other side of the street, I was solicited again, this time as I was talking on the phone, mid-sentence.

Perhaps it's only my perception, but the hustlers on my street seem to be increasing in number and aggressiveness over the past week or two, and I much more rarely see police cruise through than I did three months ago. I can only hope that it's not somehow the result of a recently altered police beat for my neighborhood, but in any case, I've already voiced my concern to the department.

My concern mostly stems from the propensity of drug activity to foster violence.

If this is happening to you in your neighborhood, call 911 on the hustlers who loiter nearby. Give an exact location with landmarks, not only addresses. This cannot be overemphasized; the last time I tried to call police on a group of non-homeless men, who didn't live in my building, squatting outside it, the cop looked in the building across the street from me instead, and left without having accomplished anything.

If you're already sick of calling the police as often as you do, voice your concern at City Council's Public Safety Committee meetings, which are held on some Tuesdays. The next one is 29 November at 3:00 PM, and I'll most likely be there.

An Occupier Heads Home

My day began in an abyss: my Macbook had died, I was alone, and had spent several hours allowing Apple to ostensibly try repairing it. However, as helpful people are known to come along in the weirdest, most opportune moments, I indeed found a straggler needing a way to get home.

I met this young man, whom I'll call "Rob," as I was debarking the Garnett MARTA station. I could immediately tell he was lost, and sure enough, he was trying to get home from Atlanta's Occupy encampment to Wisconsin. Not having money to buy him a ticket, I led him to a Western Union inside the nearby Greyhound station, where his father wired money to him.

What I learned from Rob was that, although Occupy isn't incapacitated by tuberculosis, their leadership isn't being forthright about the minor outbreak with newcomers. Rob was simply told that there was "no tuberculosis" whatsoever, and although leader Tim Franzen assured the local media that the group had been thoroughly tested, Rob never saw anybody undergo a test. Perhaps tuberculosis was completely gone from the shelter by then, but I wouldn't be so blithe to assume such a thing without evidence, were I, say, a health department worker.

He also mentioned outbreaks of random violence from bystanders at Occupy Charlotte, and ample free food at Occupy DC and Occupy Wall Street, but altogether, he was ready to head home. Perhaps his timing is not unusual; as winter approaches and national attention veers, barring a surprise uprising, we may be witnessing the end of the nationwide occupation.

Welcome to Atlanta, Now Find Something to Do

In my typically rushed way of walking, I actually stepped onto the asphalt a bit to pass a family of five on Pryor Street early this afternoon, on my way to Five Points MARTA station. Perhaps I should have asked them what it was they were looking for; they were white, expensively dressed, and nervously scanning their environment with every step. No information kiosks were immediately available to them; indeed, they would soon pass the visitor's center, into which I've never personally seen anybody enter. It appeared closed today, presumably for continuing holiday-themed carnage at the airport and various stores, most of them in other parts of town.

On Wednesday evening, during a rare scenic stroll of mine, I found a man and his young teenage son sitting outside the Capitol, puzzling over a map of Downtown attractions. As soon as I approached, the father, in a melodic Middle Eastern accent, asked me how to get to the King National Historic Site, and whether there would be anything entertaining for his son there. Not wanting to direct him to a civil rights center that was likely closed after evening rush hour, the day before Thanksgiving, and sincerely knowing of nothing there but Martin Luther King's tomb, I so informed him. I could have directed him to the World of Coca-Cola, but as their money would go farther at the solidly enjoyable restaurants on Marietta Street, I advised him to head there, and told him how.

It's fine, and even commendable, that the Convention and Visitor's Bureau is trying so hard to lure visitors into town for attractions other than pole dancing, or those less legal. However, for the Bureau to obscure just how spread apart attractions are in the city is less than welcoming to those unfamiliar with its layout. Though it's true that, to truly enjoy a city, one must dig deeper than the standard, heavily-promoted tourist spots, there are still throngs of people who are content only with those, and we must not leave them stranded for their inflexibility. The Bureau has issued maps of attractions, divided into different parts of the city; in addition to this, I propose that further subdivided 'visitor's district' maps be issued, for those areas bestowed with several attractions separated by no problem areas.

By the way: if anybody wants to know of some truly fulfilling, decent places to visit according to their own tastes, ask me. I never leave people stranded.

Pass the Obligatory Seasonal Gratitude

I'm currently in eager anticipation of turkey with giblet gravy, stuffing and at least two types of pie. There's not much to say about urban issues today, especially when one's relatives all live beyond the boundary of the pridelands, but I'll take a crack at it.

Atlanta has had a fair amount of things to be thankful for in the past few years. Some of those, such as People TV, are most likely about to pass into history. Others, such as a huge planned reservoir and park beside the Howell Station Historic District, are yet to come. What's more, we still have our old standbys to lift our spirits and keep us living in Atlanta, among them a genuine urban rail network, plenty of houses of higher education, and the Majestic Special at the diner of the same name.

In line with my usual demeanor, I am thankful yet watchful. As enjoyable as much of our city sometimes is, nothing is free, nor is it necessarily permanent. We must not only enjoy the city, but maintain it, as neighbors, voters and representatives abroad, and that's something I can drink to later tonight.

The Inane Mysteries of Redistricting

It's that time of decade again. Atlanta City Council, after reviewing the results of the 2010 US Census, has convened to draw new districts. They will vote on a final map on 5 December, which will be submitted to the federal Department of Justice for review next year.

I have never felt so ignorant as I did upon finding out what I had failed to learn until today. As a Downtown resident, I currently live in District 2, represented by who happens to be my favorite Councilperson, a man who knows what Atlanta needs, come sun or moon. Under any of the three redistricting plans, the most popular of which is Plan 2, I and the rest of south Downtown will be moved into the district of Cleta Winslow, who is reported here and there to be rather inept and selfish, and is unpopular with Atlanta's police union.

To be fair, she has at least once helped underprivileged homebuyers find homes in such neighborhoods as Mechanicsville, Pittsburgh and Peoplestown. Still, this effort seems mostly irrelevant to the concerns of south Downtown, which consists of high-density government offices, a handful of multistory residential buildings, and no detached housing.

The proposed redrawing of District 4 is also blatantly gerrymandered. It appears, upon a glance at the Census results from last year, as though the drawers of the district (most likely Cleta herself) worked to make it as black as possible; notice that its peninsular, northernmost Census tract, comprising Centennial Place, is 69% black, and is immediately across North Avenue from one that is only 9% black and thoroughly contains Georgia Tech. That tract would go to a new District 3, whose Councilperson, Ivory Lee Young, Jr, has threatened to hire an attorney over his district's dilution of black constituents.

Although the public comment period has passed, there's still ample time to call or email your current Councilperson, and voice whatever opinion you may have regarding the new maps, which differ slightly between the three plans. As I will end up in District 4 no matter which plan passes, the only recourse available to me, and others who will dearly miss Kwanza Hall, is to work hard to vote out Cleta Winslow in 2013. Perhaps she'll pleasantly surprise me, but I don't expect it.

A Neighborhood Shuts its Eyes

I have put just enough time in today to keep from declaring myself a shut-in. A few hours after waking up, at the start of rush hour, I went out walking a few blocks around my neighborhood.

The shadowy, slippery silhouettes of workers scurried away from their offices, in myriad directions. At Underground, some families with children appeared to be making a destination of the place, and a professional photographer with an amateur joie de vivre was capturing the formerly bare storefront consumed by Sunday Southern Art Revival. As I made a left onto the illicit bazaar comprising the bus bay on Broad Street, the evening's first drops of rain began to fall.

By the time I reached Mitchell Street, I was overcome with both an urge to support just one neighborhood business and an indescribable hunger. I slipped into Unique Pizzeria, bought steak fries and a Mountain Dew, and sat in front of the little television. Soon, the deliveryman hurried in, and started an innocuous, impromptu chat with the owner about beards and other things I don't remember. Another customer, a regular, stopped by for only a Dew.

The view from my seat was otherwordly. Here, in the governmental and historical core of a city and metropolis both (sometimes together, sometimes apart) renowned for their boasts to the outside world, I saw through the open doorway only dimness, rain and buses carrying throngs of people home. Too shy to strike up a conversation of my own, for various reasons, I felt weirdly alone.

What are our neighborhoods if we, their inhabitants, make nothing of them? They are housing blocks, industrial parks, skyscrapers, roads and sidewalks, but without us they are not living things.

The High Cost of Low Infrastructure Spending

Perhaps filed under the category of exceptionally unsurprising investigative journalism is this story from our own Journal-Constitution. Atlanta city government, it says, has paid more than $1.25 million in property damage and personal injury settlements from 1 January 2010 to 21 October of this year. This does not include lawsuits against the police or fire departments, or any action taken by those departments to mitigate past structural mistakes.

I must confess to being lucky enough to have never fallen into an open water meter, nor to have paid $325,000 to somebody who did. Still, it's difficult to imagine that a city with the money to pay these settlements hasn't the money to prevent a lawsuit from happening. More unsettling is the apparent lack of moral imperative to make this city a reasonably safe one in which to walk, drive, or detect smoke in one's home.

My brain's running on empty today, so here's a spontaneous outburst of corny metaphors for city government: think of your job as the opposite of a video game. When you lose money in court, there is no reset button to revert you to your last save point. When the job gets too difficult, you can't pull the plug. There are no cheat codes that you can use without at least one person finding out about it, against your wishes.

There is an infrastructural reckoning underway in Atlanta. It's time to gain control of our city's missing water meter covers, broken Prohibition-era water pipes, and crumbling streets.

Likewise, it is the responsibility of us citizens to report missing water meter covers, broken water mains, and  potholes to the city.

The Real City on a Hill

Today, I feel like taking a break from discussing those aspects of Atlanta changeable by its inhabitants. After happening upon an interesting question submitted to the Journal-Constitution, it seems to me like a good evening for a brief topography lesson.

Atlanta is the second-highest major American city east of the Mississippi River, after Pittsburgh, unless the significantly lower Downtown of Pittsburgh is counted. The High Museum is, contrary to both the article and its own name, not one of the city's highest points, being approximately 90 feet below the entrance to the Westin Peachtree Plaza. Indeed, in opposition to the broader topographical profile of Georgia, the north and southeast sides of the city of Atlanta are anywhere from 100 to 200 feet lower than the southwest side. Following the orientation of the Appalachian range, however, the ridges in the city are generally oriented from northeast to southwest.

The city's Geographical Information Systems department has plenty of maps available for perusal, by the way, although I suspect that they've guarded the shaded digital elevation model from the peering eyes of the general public.

Space Highly Available

Here's some fantastic news regarding a currently vacant Downtown building. If all goes according to plan, 250 Piedmont will become the workplace of at least 500 state employees by next summer. Having not even known this building was unoccupied, despite noticing plenty of huge boxes visible through its windows, I'm thrilled that another existing building in this city is being revitalized.

Still, much more space exists to be filled, even in the most accessible parts of the city. In my neighborhood of south Downtown, signs for available office space are legion. The dark brick building at 140 Trinity Avenue, formerly home to Capitol Cleaners, is entirely vacant, as is Capital Centre Atlanta, a brand-new building of six stories at the corner of Mitchell and Pryor.

Atlanta has traditionally fostered a climate of new office construction at the expense of older structures. Some of the buildings that are demolished are replaced with either surface parking or, in the case of 615 Peachtree, a grassy, fenced-in lot, giving parts of the city an atmosphere of neglect. Occurrences like the filling of 250 Piedmont, however, give me some hope that an end may come to the reckless abandonment of existing buildings for new ones.

For those curious about available office space Downtown, the Atlanta Downtown Improvement District has compiled an incomplete but thorough list of buildings with space available.

Peachtree Street Private Property for an Evening

I would like to extend some friendly advice to those who are new in town, and who frequently drive. Beware the annual return of the BET Soul Train Awards.

Yes, believe it or not, the city decided that it was prudent to not only close one of the densest sections of Peachtree Street at the start of rush hour, but close more of it than let on by this press release. The street was, in fact, closed at least from 8th to Edgewood, a distance of 1.79 miles. This means far more, per mile, in the center of Atlanta than it does farther beyond.

According to Wikipedia, and indeed confirmed by my own memory, this is the first year in which the awards were held at the Fox Theatre. I love the ornate and majestic architecture of this building, inside and out, but can't pretend to be happy that the pre-ceremony ceremonies were held outside the theatre, on Peachtree itself, at 5:00 PM.

I almost never drive, thankfully, but I had decided to visit a friend who lives in Lawrenceville, and invite him back for some awful movies and gin (for him) and cheap Korean beer (for me). It would eventually be a fun evening, after wading through what was undoubtedly some of the worst traffic I have ever seen, in Atlanta or elsewhere.

Where could the city have improved? Obviously, they closed far more of Peachtree than what I believe was necessary, but their primary failure was in communication. Not only had I never found an accurate warning of the extent of road closures, but on our way from my car to my apartment, I warned three neighbors, about to drive out, who were unaware that Peachtree was closed at all.

I couldn't help but be reminded of Mayor Reed's former career as a lawyer for the entertainment industry. Perhaps he was building pomp for his friends by giving them the most central part of our central street.

If you were stuck in traffic and mad at the city for not communicating more honestly and thoroughly, or perhaps for overkill, send an email to Public Works, who grant permits for street closures.

The End of Elevated Highways?

It would be difficult to find an Atlantan in the present day who could imagine Edgewood Avenue, Pryor Street next to the jail, or Cheshire Bridge Road without an Interstate looming overhead. Frenetic federal highway expansion in the latter half of the 20th century gashed, dulled and permanently changed the city's appearance and layout. Neighborhoods were torn apart, pumped with car exhaust and given grey concrete walls, which in time have decayed and thus sullied the immediate visual environment. Still, most of us have accepted the change without question.

São Paulo is, evidently, a very different place. An elevated highway that has stood in the center of the city since 1969, officially named after President Artur da Costa e Silva but unofficially named the Giant Worm, is set to eventually be demolished. Already, it is closed to motor traffic on Sunday; it is clear that neighbors of the highway appreciate the break from noise and pollution. Provisions are being made to absorb some of the worm's traffic flow: according to this Portugese-language article, a private contracter is being solicited to bury four above-ground lines of São Paulo's commuter rail system, and build a 7.5-mile boulevard with new public housing, all near the current highway.

Of course, this project, and the very demolition of the highway, would be monumentally expensive, and many experts are opposed on both that basis and one of congestion mitigation. Some demolition opponents propose simply beautifying the highway (again, in Portuguese). It is nonetheless obvious that a stronger opposition to elevated highways in central cities exists in São Paulo than here; indeed, it has been occasionally proposed to double-deck our own Downtown Connector, itself hardly a cheap venture. Various proposals to either bury or beautify the Connector have also been developed, but of course, the recession is no fertile ground for such a project, and it is unsurprisingly absent from the funding list for the transportation tax that is to be voted on next year.

As accustomed as Atlantans are to enormous, intrusive and frequently impassable urban highways, it is well worthwhile to imagine a city without them, or at least with highways more pleasant to the eye and ear than what we have now. Treed medians, colorfully painted patterns, and pleasantly designed street-level support surfaces, though not priorities of the Georgia DOT, would mitigate the damage wrought on our city by its Interstates. Hopefully, one day, the Connector will truly be out of sight, and Downtown will no longer be implicitly separated at street level from its surrounding neighborhoods. After all, every urban project of extreme scope, including the Connector itself, started with an equally extreme vision.

The Official Kasim Reed Fan Club

The DC-based political magazine Governing, most of whose readership works in government, has chosen our very own Kasim Reed as one of their favorite American elected officials of 2011. As often happens, I learned about this first from Creative Loafing, who, as many recall, have been some of his biggest fans since the 2009 mayoral election went into a runoff.

I hardly even notice anymore when Mayor Reed is praised in media. Of course, whenever it happens, I'm reminded of the ample praise given to Shirley Franklin during her first term in office. That began to subside once she lent her voice to a racially incendiary radio ad for current Fulton County Commission Chairman John Eaves. That same year, 92-year-old Kathryn Johnston was shot and killed by police, who then planted evidence to cover themselves; Mayor Franklin's appointed Chief of Police, Richard Pennington, was not so remorseful, and neither was the mayor. In 2009, the last full year of her mayorship, violent crime catapulted to new heights, and to more affluent and unprepared neighborhoods. It is worth mentioning that her campaign manager, both times, was Kasim Reed.

I grant, of course, that all signs point to Reed being a much better mayor than his predecessor. Keep in mind, however, that Mayor Franklin was similarly praised for cleaning up after the previous administration, forging alliances with the business community, and similar efforts. The sourness and ineptitude of her City Hall snuck up on us over time, and the same could happen if Mayor Reed sees a second term. He certainly knows how to win an election.

By the way, take a look in that map at Bunche Middle School, where Reed voted. The turnout is suspiciously high, isn't it? I distinctly remember it being much lower in the earlier general election, by about two-thirds, but I have yet to reencounter proof of this online. If I do, I will edit this post accordingly.

He's also friends with Bill Campbell. Enough said.

What Is a Chief Operating Officer?

The city of Atlanta, according to Creative Loafing, has a new Chief Operating Officer in Duriya Farooqui. The current title-holder, Peter T. Aman, is leaving on 9 December. Although this admittedly doesn't make for the most sensational story, I figure that, because this is one of the city's highest offices, it needs to at least be mentioned.

I must admit, however, to not being entirely certain of what a Chief Operating Officer actually does, when I read the article.

According to city government, Atlanta's Chief Operating Officer manages, but not in an absolute monarchial sense, many departments, among them Aviation, Fire, Police, Human Resources, Planning and Community Development, and Public Works. The COO is also, apparently, the person to question regarding high-profile city government resignations, as well as the criminal activity of Atlanta Public Schools; it would seem that the holder of the post functions as a page, when a sock is hanging from the mayor's doorknob.

Who, then, is Duriya Farooqui? Before moving to Atlanta, she worked for the World Bank, the Center for Global Development, and the Center for International Development at Harvard University. In the administration of Shirley Franklin, she was director of the Office of Program Management, which this linguistics major can only describe as an agency with the stated intents of streamlining the city's operations, refining its public relations, and overseeing the reporting of the city's use of federal stimulus money. Currently, she manages ATLSTAT (find the typo on the main page!) and the Atlanta Streetcar Project, which is now quite noticeably under construction on Marietta Street and will run this route beginning, if nothing goes wrong, in 2013. She is also overseeing hiring for Atlanta's non-emergency 311 call center, which will open at a now-unknown date.

I know essentially nothing about the job Mrs. Farooqui is set to take. My plea to her is therefore of the least specific nature. Communicate well, and as often as time itself will allow, with other city departments. Attempt to know the city you serve firsthand, beyond your region of immediate familiarity, so as to learn exactly where city government can exact the most positive changes. Remember that Atlanta, though not the worst of American cities in which to live, is heavily suffering in matters of safety, cost of living and general upkeep. We're counting on you to deliver for us, and given your vast professional experience well beyond this city of 423,000, I have faith in you.

When It Mattered To Us

I was riding the 1 today to the Atlanta location of what turned out to be a pleasant but fairly pricey pizzeria. A man boarded at Five Points and asked the obliging female passengers where he could buy a specific fashion magazine, to take with him to his home country of Zambia.

I was struck by how far this man had traveled simply to be here. When I was born, Atlanta had perhaps a modest Korean and South Asian population, but no more exotic migration than that. Coincidentally, later that same year, we were stupefyingly awarded the 1996 Summer Olympic Games. Due to corporate drama, my family had moved out of state in 1995, so unfortunately, I remember literally nothing of this once-only event but Izzy erasers given out to us in Sawnee Elementary.

We moved back to the area five years later, and, over the years, I noticed Atlanta's immigrant population steadily grow. It captivated and thrilled me; my staidly Southern hometown was now an international destination. The reasons for moving here from Seoul or Tallinn are, of course, up for lengthy discussion, but there were more varieties of people in our neighborhoods than just us Americans. I believe that immigration has made our city much richer, and it has obviously made us more prominent in the world.

What I want to know is when, or if, we can regain the enthusiasm of 1996. Atlanta boosterism seems to me to have largely died out over fifteen years, killed by both real and illusory forces in town. We need to see the return of the same drive that got the MARTA Act passed, gave the world 24-hour television news, built the world's busiest airport (operated until the Olympics by robotic overlords), and elected the first black mayor of a major American city. After all, apathy never really benefitted anybody, let alone 423,000 anybodies.

Mean Mug City

I cannot tell a lie: my day was terrible. It was so terrible, in fact, that I have no coherent idea what to write about at this very moment.

The one piece of advice I can lend anybody, right now, is that meanness on your part will come back to haunt you. There have been people who were very mean to me, just this past year, who desperately wish to this day that I were still aiding and abetting whatever lifestyle they led.

Atlanta, sometimes, comes across to me as a mean city. The archetypal Southern friendliness shows itself every so often, but then again, so does the archetypal Southern racism. In my experience, that goes in both directions. Just as some black MARTA riders take a single glance at me and go out of their way to avoid sitting next to me, and some black police officers won't file a report on my behalf, a few black friends and classmates of mine have found it difficult to get an apartment or job in Buckhead unless they call using a white-sounding name.

Also, one always has to be on one's guard in this city, wherever you are. If one isn't avoiding a mugger, they're avoiding a red-light runner or a cop looking for a parking space.

I find that, to break through a climate of meanness, one must take a flying leap and extend one's kindness beyond their comfort zone. Revolutionary actions, whether they entail a military coup or returning a lost wallet to its owner, are never comfortable.

The Welcome Mat

I don't have much energy to post today. My joie de vivre isn't doing so well.

I was driving to a party in Marietta last night when I noticed that the lights were off on Interstate 75 in the Mt Paran neighborhood. This would be fine by me, honestly, if the Cobb County side weren't completely alight.

Both the citizens and government of Atlanta often fail to even consider visitors' impressions of the very place where we live, and I encourage everybody in Atlanta to make a deliberate effort to lay out the welcome mat. Throw your trash in a public bin rather than on the sidewalk. If a visitor asks for directions or starts a conversation in some other way, show them the friendly side of our city. You can even plant a tree, or form a group of volunteers to clean up a trashed riverbed.

We are not powerless to change our city, or its image.

Capitol View Baptist Church and the Purpose of Optimism

I have a confession to make. I'm a pessimist. I rarely ask women out, for fear of rejection. I almost always underestimate the amount of money I'll have a month from the present. Also, when writing about the state of my state, or city, or nation, my first instinct is to seek out a problem that needs solving, and to simply explain the nature of the problem. In a footnote, I usually propose a solution. This pattern of writing not only bogs me down, but runs the risk of alienating readers of a less gloomy disposition.

Today has brought me some good news. The abandoned Capitol View Baptist Church has become the site of a planned new public library. I don't live in the neighborhood, but remember riding the 95 (out of boredom) past it in 2009, and experiencing a strange sadness upon seeing it from the front. Even in its intermediate stage of dereliction, it was still beautiful, more so than the various discount stores, grassy lots and houses in need of paint along Metropolitan Parkway (or, if you prefer, Stewart Avenue).

Perhaps it will be renovated and used again. I could imagine it becoming one of the finest auditoriums on the city's southwestern side, an especially grand study room, or even a wing of the library. The possibilities are almost overwhelming, and now, they are within reach.

I'm beginning to think that good news about Atlanta is just as important as the bad. The bad news alerts us to problems in need of correction; the good news reminds us that something remains for us to enjoy and protect.

By the way, Byron Amos and Angela Brown are headed to a runoff election in Atlanta Public Schools District 2. In what was hopefully sheer coincidence, these were the first two candidates of the original five in alphabetical order. I was unable to find an election date, but will post it as soon as I know.

The End May Be in Sight for Peachtree-Pine

I have some possible good news, courtesy of my favorite free publication in town. I'm a touch skeptical that anything will really be done, as usual, but in any case, according to the article, the Beatys are falling on hard times, and the tuberculosis story is further spreading, hopefully unlike the disease itself.

Do keep in mind, whenever you hear mention of this shelter, that Anita has recruited several volunteers to help evangelize in favor of the Task Force. I watched one on Channel 26, actually; he was at City Council on 1 November (Windows Media), delivering what I can only describe as a lofty rant. Notably, Joyce Sheperd angrily threatened to remove an audience member, inaudible on television, who had been talking to another during the tirade.

For anybody who is interested, by the way, City Council meets often, and the meetings are, of course, completely free and open to the public. I might be there every now and then.

Willpower Needed to Pass Transportation Tax

Yesterday, almost two-thirds of voters in Fulton County approved the renewal of its educational sales tax. I've stated my case against it, and despite the apparent uncritical nature of our local electorate whenever our children's future (or some such thing) is mentioned, I'm not all that bitter today.

What troubles me, though, is that I've seen a few people people link the education tax to next year's transportation tax vote. This usually occurs as a means to apply an aura of excess and futility to the latter tax. A warning is also presented to fearful voters that, should the tax be approved, Atlanta will have a 9% overall sales tax rate. For comparison, the current tax rate in Chicago is 9.75%; in New York City, 8.875%; in Los Angeles, 8.75%; and in Houston, 8.25%.

Although I certainly don't like the idea of paying such a high sales tax, I know what the alternative is. As I've said in the very second blog post I made, if Atlanta shows that it is unwilling to make difficult decisions to fix its already expensive and sometimes lethal traffic congestion, she stands to be written off as one of the powerful American cities for quite some time. If you vote 'no,' be prepared to lose neighbors and job opportunities, and expect local government to somehow come collecting for its lost revenue.

Also, let's not forget the Clifton Corridor MARTA line, which could be (crossing my fingers) heavy rail. MARTA also stands to earn money for general upkeep, which is soon to become a much more urgent need in the 32-year-old rail network.

We, transit advocates, have a long struggle ahead of us if we truly want this to pass. A cursory Google search shows that our favorite defenders of the common welfare are already hard at work, trying to derail, if you will, this vote.

In fact, they'll be right down the street from my apartment on Saturday protesting it. I encourage anybody willing to join me in a civil, reasoned counter-protest.

Why So Few Voters?

Well, it's done. The polls are closed, and the results are still arriving. I haven't much about which to type, except a frightening observation from earlier today.

When I arrived at Dunbar Elementary to vote, I saw not one other voter in the entire room. After my driver's license and signature were pored over, another voter entered, but that was it for the duration of my stay. I can't imagine why nobody else had bothered, at least while I was there; the entire process took about four minutes. Of course, voter turnout in Atlanta has been low before.

It's really not that difficult to vote. The polling sites were open for twelve hours and, as far as I could tell, were impeccably managed. The only excuse I can deduce for most eligible voters not showing up is simple apathy, which has cost this city, state and nation immeasurable rewards and resources over the course of their existence.

To summarize: when the opportunity again comes for you to vote, Atlanta, please do so. High voter turnout is not only indicative of civic enthusiasm, but the best safeguard against voter fraud.

Don't Forget to Vote Tomorrow

This bears repeating.

The special election, for Sunday alcohol sales and the renewal of the educational sales-tax, is tomorrow from 7 AM to 7 PM. Also, voters in Atlanta Public Schools District 2 are set to choose a new school board member from a pool of five candidates: Byron Amos, Angela Brown, Dwanda Farmer, Michael E. Jeter, and Donald Walker. More can be read about all five candidates in Creative Loafing and the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

As I've already stated, I am voting 'yes' for Sunday alcohol sales in Atlanta, and 'no' for a renewal of the education tax. I just barely live in APS District 1, and thus am not voting for a new school board member, but wanted to compile some information about the candidates for those readers who do live in District 2.

One random, final thought: from where I live, I can see the APS headquarters building with, usually, either three or four of its eight floors lit up every night, after the parking deck has cleared out. I have yet to see another office building in town waste so much electricity after hours, and take this to be a hint of fiscal recklessness on the part of APS. To be fair, Superintendent Erroll Davis has enacted a hiring freeze to save some money, but obviously, more can be done.

For the most part the alcohol vote can be distilled, if you will, into a decision of personal moral convictions. For me, however, it is also an economic question. Although it is true that anybody who truly wants to drink on Sunday will remember to buy their beverages earlier, people forget, and if outlying residents can make beer runs to an Atlanta where they can buy on Sunday, the economic benefits, I believe, will be real and measurable.

The deadline to register was 11 October. Happy voting, everyone.

The Tallest Blight in Town

On the very boundary of Downtown, looming over the Grady Curve, is a once-beautiful structure named the Medical Arts Building. Vacant for 16 years, it is marred with graffiti, missing several windows, and was at one point used as a gigantic billboard. A business owned by music producer Dallas Austin (who is inexplicably not from Texas) offered to convert the building into a hotel in 2003, but reneged five months later. Even on this relatively neglected side of Atlanta's urban center, it is notable for its horrific appearance.

It is currently owned by Anosh Ishak, Ephraim Spielman, and Daniel and Kamy Deljou, who were actually brought to court by the city on 19 September. Although they purchased the building for $5.25 million, they want no less than $11 million for it. Mr. Ishak has been in trouble before, by the way.

It would at least make sense for the building's price to be reduced, but in the absence of any market demand for this monstrosity of blight, it is well past time for it to come down. Its owners have paid for asbestos treatment for the building's interior, and thus have run out of reasonable excuses to not demolish it. The refusal of these four to permanently solve this problem, until they are paid very handsomely, is a flippant insult to all of Atlanta.

Peachtree-Pine Spreading Drug-Resistant Tuberculosis

I learned from Creative Loafing recently that the homeless shelter of the Metro Atlanta Task Force for the Homeless has been the site of several cases of drug-resistant tuberculosis. Apparently, it was still possible before reading this article for my opinion of the shelter to sour further, because that's exactly what happened. Incredulously, it soured still more today upon information I learned from a confidential source.

I would like to forewarn you that I personally have no access to the statistics or, obviously, the medical records of Emory University Hospital Midtown, the emergency entrance of which is located less than 500 feet from that of the shelter. I have never knowingly met or spoken with anybody with any form of tuberculosis. Furthermore, I know nobody who is in any way affiliated with the shelter. However, the source of the information I am about to reveal is familiar, in an adversarial sense, with the operations of the shelter, and holds a position of good authority.

According to this source, non-homeless individuals, as unaffiliated with the shelter as I am, have been admitted in recently increasing numbers to Atlanta hospitals with symptoms of tuberculosis, particularly Emory Midtown (or Crawford-Long, if you prefer). Some have actually been given diagnoses of tuberculosis; at least one was an employee of an unnamed restaurant near the shelter.

If this can be proven, the shelter must be immediately closed and its inhabitants placed in quarantine. If not, there are nonetheless proven cases of drug-resistant tuberculosis within the shelter, in which members of Occupy Atlanta have recently started living. These protestors are nearly certain to leave the shelter in short order, possibly tonight, and if they are infected, the disease will have become much more mobile.

I urge those reading to share this story with fellow Atlantans. A dire situation may be brewing.

The Many Perils of Walking

My Friday afternoon has been terrific. Perhaps I'm easily amused, but I just went to a gallery and a pub, and this diversion from drudgery made my day. In fact, on my way to these places, I almost didn't care about the horrible shape of sidewalks on the near northwest side of town.

Although my simple contentment might have blocked feelings of fury, however, perplexion set in beside a parking deck on Marietta Street. I had to actually leap from an upthrust section of pavement, to avoid tripping and hypothetically splitting my skull. This particular square of sidewalk was actually an entire foot above the adjoining section. I silently thanked God that I wasn't in a wheelchair.

Sidewalks such as this, perhaps echoing an imaginary earthquake, are myriad throughout the city. But what is being done? According to the Atlanta BeltLine, money from the city of Atlanta and some Tax Allocation Districts (TADs, for short) will fund "pedestrian connections" around the project, which is dandy; also, to my knowledge, some of the projects on the regional transportation tax list include new sidewalks. Still, much more of the city than what is mentioned is in dire need of new or wider sidewalks. Have you tried to take a stroll on Cheshire Bridge Road lately? It looks like a bombing range.

It seems incredulous to me that anybody would not want to fund better sidewalks, in a major city so often visited as Atlanta. In fact, there are indeed opponents to sidewalk funding. Their rationale is that projects like improved sidwalks and the BeltLine, as mentioned in the following article, provide no relief to traffic congestion and are therefore not worth the money. Never mind that they improve quality of life for urban residents, say these haters; they don't get long-distance drivers home any faster. The Georgia Department of Transportation has, until recently, explicitly stated that sidewalks are automobile recovery zones.

What ought you to do if you have to deal with a beat-up sidewalk? Complain to the adjacent property owner. Yes, believe it or not, it's their responsibility to pay for sidewalk repair.

For those who want to know what I did today: I wandered into the Atlanta Contemporary Art Center and paid a discounted $3 student price (regular admission is $5) to look at two exhibitions, one of which was delightfully raunchy and bizarre. The hours and address are listed here, and the gallery can be reached by MARTA bus routes 1 (from Five Points) and 26 (from North Avenue or Bankhead).

Afterwards, I rode the 1 to Der Biergarten, which serves something like sixteen German beers on draft. I ate, drank and was merry. The goulash (or maybe it was the beer) made me happy as a clam.

Surprise! It's Election Time

I and a number of other people have known for a while about next Tuesday's special election in the city of Atlanta. Perhaps because I haven't heard or read any mention of it except in local news, however, I imagine that not every Atlanta voter is aware of it. For most of the city, there are two measures being voted upon.

First, and most famously, Atlanta residents are finally able to decide whether they want Sunday alcohol sales to be allowed in the city limits. This would mean that we no longer have to resort to paying bar prices should we forget the traditional Saturday evening run to the liquor store. Obviously, I plan to vote "yes" to help chip away at the influence of certain totalitarian religious sects over our laws, and I believe that most of my fellow citizens will vote likewise.

The second measure being voted on isn't as widely known. In fact, I was blissfully unaware of it until reading Creative Loafing last night. It's a special local-option sales tax, more lyrically referred to as a "SPLOST," to add funding for Atlanta Public Schools. I know what you're thinking. Their criminal enterprises alone are actually enough to convince me to vote against the SPLOST.

Just for the sake of clarity, though, here's what they're asking for, according to a sample Fulton County ballot: "new schools, land, additions, renovations, equipment, debt service and technology systems, at a total maximum cost of $499,962,831." I personally don't know the state of repair of public schools in this city, but regarding "technology systems," I do remember this debacle, and indeed, I doubt that they even need a red cent for more computers.

Regarding new schools, a planned new high school in the Mt Paran neighborhood, at the far northwestern corner of the city, comes to mind. APS claims that it is critical to convert North Atlanta High into a middle school, in order to relieve an overcrowded Sutton Middle. According to them, the site they've chosen, a former IBM office, is most cost-effective, already having a parking deck and several usable buildings. As naturally happens in such a wealthy neighborhood, some neighbors are complaining about various aspects of this particular school's size and location, which they allege is out of balance with the area's traffic patterns. A quote by APS deputy superintendent of operations (that's a mouthful) Larry L. Hoskins, reassuring residents that there are "two very well-engineered intersections there, with lights and signals," is hardly reassuring at all.

Vote as you wish, but I'll be checking "yes," then "no."

A school board seat is up for election in APS District 2, which, for simplicity's sake, is defined here by which schools are served within it. (If your polling place is at a school, obviously, you live in that school's district.) The candidates are Byron Amos, Angela Brown, Dwanda Farmer, Michael E. Jeter, and Donald Walker.

The election is Tuesday, 8 November from 7:00 AM to 7:00 PM. The deadline to register was 11 October. If you don't know your polling precinct and its associated polling place, you can check this map; if you don't want to deal with something that feels like it was built in Mac OS 6, call the Voter Registration Office at (404) 730-7072 and ask them what polling place corresponds to your address. Turnout will most likely be low, so our votes are especially powerful.

Dirty South, Learn from the Farther South

After having both fallen asleep and woken up during daylight, only to find out that I had indeed slept for fourteen hours, I wasn't exactly eager for another lecture in Geography (which has turned out to be more about public policy than where Tashkent is). Today's class was more interesting to me than usual, though, in that I learned what I didn't already know about, which was Curitiba and its approach to urban transit.

We watched a documentary with the very topical title of A Convenient Truth: Urban Solutions from Curitiba, Brazil. It shows many ways in which the city's government has improved the lives of its residents, but what most captivated me was its transit system. It is a hierarchical bus network: red articulated buses travel in the center of two-way roads and stop every 500 meters at what I think are very cool-looking stations, grey buses stop every 2-3 kilometers on other streets, and orange buses travel between satellite towns and terminals in Curitiba.

What does any of this have to do with Atlanta? I'm not sure. The very layout of Curitiba is antithetical to our city. It is far denser than Atlanta, at 4,159.4 inhabitants per square kilometer in what is considered the urban area in 2008, compared to 1,224.5/km² in Atlanta in 2010. What used to be Curitiba's busiest automotive thoroughfare, Rua XV de Novembro, was closed to cars in 1972 and reopened as a long pedestrian-only street, something Atlanta has almost never tried; indeed, since the inexplicable opening of the Comfort Suites at Five Points, the brick-paved center of Alabama Street has, at one spot. been intermittently blocked in typical Atlanta style by a row of valet-parked cars.

Still more foreign to Atlanta's sensibilities is the stated aim of Curitiba's transit layout to spread businesses and residences evenly along the bus lines, in order to alleviate crowding downtown. This stands in stark contrast to MARTA, whose focal point is fixed at Downtown Atlanta. The city's parks commissioner, Hitoshi Nakamura, stated in the documentary that "...downtown is for people. It is a meeting place." I would like to see such a philosophy applied more aggressively in our own downtown, which is bursting with infrastructure and office space, but can feel impersonal sometimes. The Elevate! project and its art is a good start.

The most important and easily applicable lesson Atlanta can take from Curitiba is "if you build it, they will come." Business owners protested the conversion of XV de Novembro to a pedestrian-only street, until the pedestrians it brought began to patronize the businesses in increased numbers; afterwards, businesses farther north of the project lobbied for its eventual expansion. For Atlanta, and Downtown Atlanta in particular, to become more inviting to the average person, more businesses need to take a leap of faith and extend their hours; more residents along pedestrian-unfriendly thoroughfares need to lobby for sidewalk widening, or even closing certain streets to cars; and more artists need to present offers to the city to beautify unsightly surfaces. An improved living space for everyone in this city won't magically, spontaneously happen.

Atlanta's Odd Couple

I was befuddled to learn that Occupy Atlanta has recently enlisted the support of the Atlanta chapter of the Nation of Islam. This would be alright by me if the sentiments of their leader weren't so hateful and insane, and didn't reflect the very spiritual core of this sect. I can still barely wrap my head around the idea of activists seeking help from people who hate them because of their predominant race, or ethnic group, or whatever.

Perhaps their goal is to scare the Atlanta Police out of Woodruff Park on Saturday night. The Nation of Islam, after all, doesn't care for the police, and, from my personal experience, has mastered the art of intimidation.

When I was either 14 or 15, I spent a day wandering around the city, taking pictures of anything I thought sufficiently interesting. I was a grossly naive glutton for urban scenery, and my parents had lent me their camera for the day. After walking a considerable distance, I paused for a bit beside a stout, grey building to review my photos. Not fifteen seconds later, two men, one middle-aged and one in his thirties, rushed out and began bellowing at me, demanding to know who sent me, and why I was spying on them. Frozen and wide-eyed, I assured them that I was most definitely not a spy, and that I hadn't even taken a photo of them or their building. They sent me away with a harsh but vague threat, and I slipped away from the scene as quickly as I could, while still being able to make out the Nation of Islam banner on the building's side.

Despite this, and Occupy Atlanta's romance with my least-favorite homeless shelter in town, I desperately want to believe in the movement's ability to grant legitimacy, through numbers and assertiveness, to our nation's fatigue of megabank practices. I will therefore, most likely, be jumping a bit late into their protest outside the Wells Fargo building at Atlantic Station. But I won't be helping them and the Nation of Islam try to take over the park. Not only do I not see a reason for that, I have a party to go to that night. (Take note, guys: drinking something makes interacting with rich girls way less awkward.)