Faces tell the story

First off, I hope nobody got their hopes up.

Over the last week or so, a large portable “Pod” container had been parked in front of our house on Wallach. It wasn’t ours, yet I can’t help but suspect that a few of you faithful readers may have put two and two together, erroneously, and thought we were moving. Sorry to disappoint.

It wasn’t ours, but a neighbor’s just about four houses down. He and his wife and their happy slobbery dog were great neighbors. But they have had enough of the unending late-night street party that our corner of the neighborhood has become. They live elsewhere in the District now, as do several others who have left recently. “It’s just too much, and we’re the ones feeling it most,” said another neighbor as we bumped into each other on the street recently. “Nobody else seems to understand.” She and her husband are also debating a move.

Unlike the recent joint ANC “listening session” – in which hardly anyone, including the ANC commissioners present who already had their minds made up, listened to anyone else – it seems there are several things that can be learned about where the neighborhood is moving, but only if people listen to each other.

I was there, and heard many voices; although to be fair, those speaking seemed less “diverse” as one speaker noted and more homogenous than a walk around any four blocks around here. Regardless, there were generally three types of comments – from liquor moratorium supporters and opponents alike.

First was the appeal to good policy. Impact on crime, jobs created, long-term area growth; appeals to reason, basically. Of course, no serious policy discussion is premised on :90 second time limits, and by and large a lot of those arguments marshaled on both sides seemed rather spurious. That’s OK; it’s really no different than how committed partisans in our larger political contests engage.

Second was the “too blunt” argument, whose theme and variations were essentially “Yes, we can see how some of these things are getting a little out of control, but the moratorium is too blunt an instrument. Let’s just use existing laws to go after the bad actors.” Which would be fine, noted opponents, if it were possible. Personally, I suspect that if anything could have been done in the past under the existing laws, it would have. As in: if only the ANC 1B actually worked and wasn’t a complete mess losing filings and forgetting meetings and just plain making crap up, but alas, we know different. And the truth is that a moratorium is a blunt instrument. Perhaps not a cudgel, but certainly as fine as a hammer.

The third general sentiment seemed to me, at least, the most honest. Namely, that many new residents moved here specifically for a certain kind of urban lifestyle, and that those pushing the moratorium were attacking that life, and as a result, the new residents in turn. In other words: saying you don’t want any new bars is like saying you don’t want me. This candor, it seems, deserves some attention.

The moratorium was never my thing. It was an issue I could have (and did) go back and forth on. The District regulations it’s based on are cumbersome and complicated and, while not as absolute as some worry, just too ponderous for anyone’s good. Thus, winning arguments aren’t really based on policy or facts or convoluted processes, but emotional appeals.

In this case, a large segment – although I’m not convinced a majority, despite the dog-and-pony show – of residents share that emotional sense that the moratorium is somehow an attack on their values, their choices and at some root level, who they are as individuals.

This, I sense, puts this moratorium in a different space than the previous successful efforts in Adams Morgan, Georgetown and Cleveland Park. There, the populations were largely stable, there was little or no new influx of residents, and many of those drinking there and causing problems were from other areas of the region. Here, however, there’s a new building going up every week, and many of the younger, relatively successful newcomers are the ones rushing the tables and bars counters.

I really do get all that, as well as earnestly respecting those who let feelings be their guide on this issue.

Which brings me to what has been lacking – at times shamefully so – in much of the discussion from those vehemently opposed to the moratorium: any attempt at empathy or understanding.

When my partner spoke of the “online jihad” aimed at those proposing the moratorium – and was booed and hissed by those gathered to ‘listen’ – this is what he was speaking of. “Tyrants,” “busybodies,” “old nobodies,” “idiots,” “fascists”; these are just a few of the many more choice terms moratorium opponents have flung at proponents. And save one exception, with the courageous conviction that online anonymity provides.

In fact, it was frequently the anonymous commentors here and elsewhere that publicly singled individuals out by name and address; bravely while remaining cloaked themselves. Truly profiles in courage. Boo and hiss that.

Understanding and community-building work both ways, which is something this neighborhood is in desperate need of. Just as some opponents felt attacked personally by this issue, so, too do many residents who have watched their life choices be disrespected in puddles of vomit, exponentially more trash, drunks arguing and urinating right in resident’s front yards and so on with the explosion of establishments serving liquor.

Those neighbors moving out of the neighborhood aren’t happy to do so; several have commented they feel the neighborhood no longer cares about them and nobody is willing to listen. Successful communities work to build bridges, not burn them down. No individual or group should get everything it wants, and to hell with everyone else, as some seem to believe. We all must live together.

In the end, communities change. They follow at times unpredictable paths of both opportunity and loss. Ultimately, there will come another issue, another debate, where those who find themselves feeling in the superior position today will need those they once disrespected and called terrible names tomorrow.

It’s important to remember that, especially in this town, memories are long. Only fools choose to make enemies they don’t have to.

Before there was a Gold + Williams or Vastu, Muleh or Room and Board, there was an empty building on U street, right by what used to be Pollys, now Desperados. At the edge of the area’s renewal, a new store opened up that proved to be a treasure on the street – Urban Essentials. Sure, they had a stunning offering of contemporary furniture, somehow mixing comfortable and chic, old and new. But just as much, Urban Essentials played a role in opening up the neighborhood, giving residents both a store they needed and an early step in rebuilding U.

Yet another store forced from the neighborhood

They were, in short, a company that got it – quality interior design and purposeful community building.

When they opened rents were *relatively* inexpensive in the area. But with every new restaurant and bar came more and more landlords looking for the quickest way to make the most money possible. Say what you will, but food & beverage service – notably the latter – make large bill.

You know what happens next. Several businesses, more and more, begin closing as landlords, envious of the higher rates that bars can command, begin pushing out those who had helped make the area desirable in the first place. And that’s what exactly what happened at 1330. The landlord raised the rates for Urban Essentials, even though the owner was public in his desire to remain in the neighborhood. When that failed, he tried to negotiate with JBG, the firm seeking to build yet another apartment building right next door. That, too, went nowhere. UE eventually relocated, down to 14th near Rhode Island Ave., and the neighborhood had yet another victim of mono-development; namely, an over concentration of one type of business in a concentrated area.

Knowing exactly who was interested in 1330, a restaurant developer with some success in Georgetown who wished to open a new restaurant & bar called The Fainting Goat, several local residents (as in those right behind the proposed establishment) met with the new team to try and negotiate a settlement agreement, or what used to be called the Voluntary Agreement. Here the residents and the entrepreneur negotiate basic things such as hours of operation, outdoor seating, live music, trash, noise and parking issues. Just what being good neighbors is all about. And in fact, according to both sides, while agreement wasn’t final, negotiations were going very well, were civil, and close to agreement.

At the same time, however, a few voices on the Internetz began a plaintive cry, saying in essence: “What ever are we to do with an empty space in the heart of U?” Here, the idea goes, was someone who wanted to make use of an empty space…if only those certain nasty, terrible blah blah blah people would stop standing in the way of everything! I guess for these pious few the idea of citizen input and democracy means little.

Regardless, here is where the tale turns sadder still. Enter the ANC 1B.

For years now, some parts and some commissioners have valiantly pressed forward, working hard at jobs most people would never willingly accept. Unfortunately, other parts, and other commissioners, have largely slept at the wheel, making up rules and procedures as they go and letting important agenda items simply fall through the cracks.

This has been known to the very small number of committed residents on all sides of any issue who regularly attend not just the big meetings, but the innumerable sub-committee hearings. (Lesson: attending hearings is not much fun.) But as last Thursday’s public meeting laid bare, the ANC 1B is in serious need of repair.

Borderstan has an excellent summary of the rumpus that ensued, but in short, nobody seemed to have any firm knowledge about specifics of the proposed settlement agreement – several members said they never even saw it – or any votes that may or may not have been taken in the ABRA sub-committee. Unfortunately, the Fainting Goat was caught in the confusion, leaving everyone concerned, on all sides, discouraged.

Here’s the truth: for years, the liquor licensing sub-committee has largely failed to work, at times being uncertain of who actually sat on the board, failing to muster quorum for meetings, and in a number of cases, simply letting license applications pass without any hearing or action at all. Last Thursday is only the latest example of mismanagement.

If a government or private corporate board acted in this way, the stakeholders would be justifiably upset and demand improvements. In an odd twist, however, a few have taken their fight online to blame those who pointed out the errors, and who were actually close to sealing the deal with the Goat. Easier, I guess, to just vilify than lay out the truth of the matter.

And now, nobody trusts anybody else. Some supporters of the Goat (I number myself a supporter, by the way) want to pick up the negotiations again, but noticing the chaos at the ANC have been forced to take the only action they can; to oppose the license for the moment so that everyone and all sides will negotiate in good faith. Can locals trust an ANC that appears to simply make up votes or agreements? Can license applicants trust either supporters or opponents who seem to be fighting a larger battle? Can people on all sides stop making claims – much like Limbaugh makes of Obama – that their opponents simply want to ruin the neighborhood, only before telling them to move?

That, perhaps, makes me saddest of all.

It’s unfortunate that during serious civic debates, some parties choose to resort to the age-old tactic of bullying. Specifically, in the neighborhood debates about development, construction, liquor and entertainment and the qualities that most enhance a neighborhood’s livability, some continue to try and bully their neighbors with the epithet N***Y.

Says it all.

As we’ve noted before, there is no difference between slinging that term at someone and walloping them with some other collective slur. The terms are repellent, they exist solely to intimidate through power, and are simply unacceptable.

Too bad, then, that some new voices from outside the neighborhood have picked up the bully mantle once again. In their effort to build their vision of a most livable, 21st Century city, they seek to limit, or even prohibit, local voices in having a say in how to shape what their immediate neighborhood is, and what it will become.

To all those who want a more “livable” city: we stand with you. Livable in all its sense: in neighborhoods that provide daytime business, encourage local merchants of all sorts and nurture all the amenities that give a neighborhood its character.

We’ll go a step further, as we have for two years: all those wishing to see more entertainment establishments throughout our city – particularly in those areas where they are few and far between – then your fight is our fight. There are still too many areas throughout our city where residents wish for a walking distance life: a decent, fresh grocery, a good wine store, a tailor, a couple pubs, a theater and the rest.

So, the very best way to encourage exactly that city-wide development where it’s most needed is to support the 14th and U liquor temporary moratorium. Proprietors and business people aren’t going to simply stop opening establishments throughout the city because one small area said: “Slow it up.” Just the opposite: under-developed areas, which are often cheaper, will become more appealing and new ventures will begin. Win-win.

However, if you simply want another area of your city – someplace that literally isn’t your backyard, and not where you live – to host all the bars and nightclubs you crave because it’s just so convenient, and in so doing take away the real neighbors’ voice in giving thumbs up or thumbs down, then that’s not civil. It’s disrespectful.

More over, if you’re so bankrupt of actual arguments and assertions that you have to resort to name-calling, then you are a bully.

Bullys are not welcome in our neighborhood. Bullies like to hide, call names, and generally behave in an arrogant and smug manner.

There’s only one way to stand down a bully, and that’s by standing up.

So, for the 100th time, we welcome a civil debate about the merits and faults of a temporary liquor moratorium in this neighborhood. All voices are welcome as long as they’re respectful. But those voices that try and silence those who live here are not welcome, now or ever.

The ANC 2B met Thursday evening at the Reeves Center with a mixed audience turnout, but resulting in a surprise vote.

On the agenda was support for both the JBG proposal, as it exists, for the U/13th Street 86 foot apartment project, and the PUD put forward to avoid the snarls of public review. The turnout was mixed, as usual, but not when it came to JBG’s plan. Not a single member of the public spoke in support of the project.

Despite one out-going commissioner’s belittling of those who turned out, every member of the community that spoke registered opposition to the project. This Commissioner  likes to say things like “despite your giggling…” or “other than the six people in the back…” in hopes of sidelining opponents to the proposal as it exists. For the record, I object to any public official belittling their constituents. It is offensive.

Yet every time any public meeting has been held, as several community members pointed out, far and away the majority of voices have spoke out against the proposal, as it exists. In short: too tall, bad massing, poor meeting of the street, and no parking.

Which, as I pointed out in my letter to Chair Myla Moss, does not mean opposition to the proposal as a whole. Without quoting at length from my public letter to her (ask her for it, it’s public record,) I and many of my neighbors “find much to like in the JBG proposal.” Yeah, you read that right.

That, however, does not mean the proposal as it stands is ready for prime time. As I also said to Chair Moss: “Taking a month or two to address community concerns will make for a better building, and a better neighborhood.”  Oh, that was regarding the L2 project, which everyone agreed upon, following adequate public input. But also this project, which suddenly every one seems to have to approve yesterday.

While some will report Thursday’s vote as the ANC’s support for the project, it was explicitly – with the aid of Commissioner Zwerdling – contingent upon explict approval from DDOT that all residents of the apartment building – now and forever – would not be able to apply for on-street parking. This, following from precedent at the L2 development, and their garnering approval from the ANC.

And even at that, the vote ended up being 5 for, 3 against and 1 abstention. Not in any way a full throated approval for 13/U. In fact, that very vote should signal to all concerned the continuing concerns about the proposal. As long as you assume that’s not just coming from six cranks in the back of the room.

The proposal now goes to Zoning, and HPRB. Suddenly, 13th and U is looking a little shaky.

PostScript: Oh, one of the JBG representatives mentioned four times, “this isn’t a threat, but…” As in, if you don’t give us everything we want, well…we’re not threatening anything, but…

To which I say: if you have to say repeatedly something isn’t a threat, it is.

“After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relatives.” – Oscar Wilde.

There’s great truth in that, and great wisdom in the entire concept of the Thanksgiving holiday. In our house, it’s rivaled perhaps only by Derby Day…and even at that it’s not much of a contest. We had big ones, where we had to string together multiple tables to get everyone seated together, and small ones with no-one more than Craig and I. We’ve cooked in the old barely-to-code kitchen with little more than a roll-around oven and two heating elements, and now in the new stainless steel dream where practically anything is possible.

Some of the guests were ours, some where friends of friends, and I can recall a few who literally seemed to just wander in off the street. To be fair, I’m sure a few of the people who came over the years I didn’t particularly like the rest of the year. But in the Thanksgiving holiday bubble, all that falls away. It’s just a brilliant little holiday, and calls to mind just some of the things I’m thankful about my neighborhood:

• My crazy good neighbors. Wallach is a little one-block, one-way street. The houses are shorter and smaller than its neighbors and the street more narrow. The DC Historical Society notes that Wallach was the place where the domestic help lived, when they weren’t working in the larger 3 or 4 level houses on T, S or R. As such there’s always been a sort of Sesame Street vibe to the street. A place where you know all your neighbors – even the crack dealers (which were many.) A lot of our life together is actually on the street: neighboring kids playing, neighbors shooting the breeze about this or that, street mates pitching in to shovel cold snowy walks or sharing food at Guy and Dan’s in the summer. It’s a special place, largely because of the people.
• Holiday parking. Especially for the big days – Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter – Washington DC in general empties out. And with it go a lot of cars. As a rule it doesn’t seem our neighbors leave town much on the holidays, but with everyone else gone, the streets are empty and quiet. And let’s face it: not having to battle to park, or constantly dodging dump trucks on the street and delivery trucks in the alley, is a little pleasure. Like finding a dollar bill waded in you pocket; a small and unexpected gift.
• The just about everything. Even with the most recent trend toward mono-culture, the neighborhood still has lots of little things that make a place rich. When the dog is ill, we walk to Doc Wendy & Doc Sarah. If I suddenly run out of Madagascar nutmeg or Vietnamese fish sauce in the middle of a storm, it’s a good bet Yes! Market will have it. There’s a post office and a dry cleaner and a check-cashing place all in one block. Edge’s and Mitoni’s both offer great razor cuts without the fuss, The Saloon and Pica Taco never disappoint, and the best venue for music in the nation, 9:30 Club, is a short stumble from home.  Of course, we have lost some good friends lately – Raven Arts, Coppi’s, the U Street sandwich shop (which made THE best tuna melts ever!) Pollys, and Ruff N’ Ready are but a few. Even the dingy liquor store run by the Koreans who spent their day shouting at people behind plexiglass – it somehow made the neighborhood richer. I know that change happens; I just hope that future change keeps the neighborhood as diverse as it historically was, rather than becoming little more than bars and restaurants I can’t afford.
• The green. All around this area, just as on Wallach, people often have tiny gardens. Wee little plots of land in the front – and that’s if your lucky. Some neighbors on the South side of Wallach just have sidewalk and stairs. Yet almost without exception, people really try to make what little space they have green and bright and lush. Some are neat and some are a higgle-piggle, but they all add color and beauty and smells in the Spring, Summer and Fall.  Growing up in rural Michigan, land was something you had so much of you really didn’t think about it. It was there to be used. Here, space and land is so precious that people squeeze every little drop out of it…and the result is a riot of greenery.
• My partner. I think even if I were a single guy living in a basement on Wallach I’d find it a fun and special neighborhood. But getting the chance to live together with my partner Craig is the capstone. No matter how exhausted from work or toil, there’s never a time I don’t want to go out on a walk with Craig and the dog. I’ve strung holiday lights at other places, but it’s never as much fun as doing it with Craig. Kitchen aromas somehow smell better with Craig there to enjoy them.

So I’m once again giving thanks for those things we should gladly give thanks for: dear friends near and far, hopeful good (or better) health, enough money to live modestly and put a little aside. But this year I’m making special note of all the things that my life on Wallach Place so fortunate. Here’s hoping that all can feel so blessed in their lives.

Saturday was the day that Grunley was to erect their construction crane for the L2 Development at 14th and Wallach. Residents had previously written Councilman Jim Graham’s office asking whether the street could support the crane (in addition to the traffic problems) and suggested that 14th Street instead be used. After all, it’s already demonstrated it can support and handle the weight and size of such a crane…twice.

Wallach after the bug-out of construction trucks. They left in a hurry

But no, apparently the order had been handed down by DDOT – whenever the public had any input into that is a question – and so Saturday Wallach was shut down, cars were towed and in came the trucks.

Little problem. The street started to crack.

“We’re sinking here,” one of the construction engineers told me after the street full of trucks, crane parts at 12.5 ton weights bugged out. He went on:

“We really don’t know what’s down there. It’s soft. It could be bad backfill, we just don’t know.”

So what was the next step? “We don’t know. Maybe we build a ramp from Wallach to the pit so we can build it. We just don’t know what’s under there.”

So this happened on 13th Street how exactly?

Hearing that – twice – from one of the crane engineers is not encouraging. In addition to the damage to several people’s houses, including this from a house on Wallach facing 13th Street. Just how a construction truck ended up doing this on 13th Street is, again, another mystery.

So once more we ask: why not set the crane on 14th Street – where we already know it can be supported? And beyond that, just how much is there that we just don’t know about under our feet? We’ve written several times before here of neighbors who dug their basement’s down just a little too much, and now had constant flooding problems. The water table is obviously very high here…if a little basement floods, is it any surprise so many developers are asking for such large variances to not dig down for the required amount of parking?

To be continued.

First, for all those who are or with loved ones (as we pray for our friend Pierre in Hoboken) still suffering in SuperStorm Sandy’s aftermath, we wish you strength and health. If there’s anything we can do, please contact us directly.

A tree downed by the storm. The neighbors say this was a healthy tree, until a rogue construction truck struck it and shattered the trunk.

One thing certain after an event like this is that pundits/blowhards will shove each other into the gutter to be the first to bloviate on what happened, how this is bad (duh) and why thus-and-such political haircut was right/wrong on Sandy. From our little perspective in a tiny corner that suffered only minor cable outages and a few (sad) fallen trees on U Street we say SHUT UP. If anyone was seriously concerned about all this, we would have heard discussions over the last few years about infrastructure, global climate change, economic investment and a host of other issues. We haven’t, so please just shut your pie holes now and just help your fellow citizens.

While I’m snug and warm writing this, a good friend is trapped in a building in Hoboken, surrounded by water and disaster. I don’t know how he is, as his last text was a request to stop texting as he needs to preserve what batteries his phone has for the disaster crews.  Ugh.

We’re reminded how fortunate we are to live in this little corner of the District, once more. In 2003, I was living in a basement apartment when Isabel hit. We had sandbagged the entrances, and at the height of the storm the doors blew open and wouldn’t shut. Power never went out. Now living in a modest house on Wallach (where we just learned the skylight isn’t sealed but just resting on the roof by its weight) we again experienced a few hours of ominous winds and cable outages. But our drilling in the “back yard” and our block’s scrupulous cleaning of the gutters prevented any flooding. Like I said: lucky.

We clearly do not live in a Cadillac neighborhood, and increasingly the rest of our nation doesn’t, either. We float on a belief that everything will always work, but fail to invest in the tangible things that actually make it work…and ignore these questions as we pursue greater development at any cost.

As we’ve said (h8trs go look at this post or just go away, you bore us) smart development is more than just planning for increased density – it’s looking at, planning for and working with the basic infrastructure and service delivery options of any community. Questions: is our cabling in the district – much of it underground – in good repair, and able to deliver the ever-increasing amount of juice needed by an expanding population? Are our sewers and pipes capable of delivering what’s necessary to ensure sanitary conditions? Can our streets handle the necessary traffic a modern population demands? How many new laptops can we add to an area before the electrical grid groans and flickers off?

We blithely carry on with our lives – new development or not – without ever giving a moment’s thoughts to all the stuff that allows us to live as well as we do. That infrastructure doesn’t just happen, and isn’t just magically maintained. Without even a single new resident, it demands attention to shore up and improve.

I’m disappointed nationally, and locally, how little attention anyone pays to this. Media, advocates, candidates – mostly what we’re hearing is zippo, as we whistle past the graveyard.

So New Rule: from now on, anytime anyone proposes how wonderful it is to add thousands of new residents within a small spot in the District, they’ll also have to address how – specifically – our infrastructure can absorb it all, or what measures they would propose to make sure that it does. Because it matters.

Again, anyone in need, please contact us and we’ll do what we can.

So here we go…again. Everyone who remembers Snowpocalypse, and then Snowmageddon, knows what havoc a bad storm can do to our neighborhood. And for those who weren’t around in 2003, Hurricane Isabel brought nearly as much headache in mid-September, pelting the District with big gusts and soaking rain.

Coming soon to a neighborhood near you

No one can really say right now what Hurricane/Frankenstorm Sandy (should a hurricane really be named “Sandy”?) might mean for the District, so there’s no use worrying. But there’s plenty of good that can come from preparing, so we’re sharing a few ideas right now:

1. Gutters: Our street gutters are often clogged, or worse, with a lot of crud. Newspapers, burger wrappers, plastic this and glass that…but it all slows run-off from getting to the storm drains. We’re likely to have it bad enough: urban flooding can happen remarkably quickly. Just ask the guy who spent a day bagging sandbags for Isabel, and was glad he did. What you can do: take some time Saturday, as we will, and just bag up all the junk in your street gutters. It’s nasty, and you’ll want gloves, but you’ll be glad you did. Water that flows into the drains won’t flow into your house or condo. We’ll be out tomorrow morning – I recommend everyone do the same.
2. Yards: Who really knows, but the brainiacs at the National Weather Service are forecasting prolonged high winds. That means lots of shit is going to be flying all over the place. Trust us: Isabel was a wimp, tropically speaking, the time she rolled over DC – but she still made doors vibrate, furniture fly and all sorts of nastiness in the night. What you can do: Take time Saturday to store anything remotely mobile outside. Garbage bins, furniture, toys, and yes, even garbage: it’s all likely to fly just about everywhere, and that will only make things worse.
3. Inside Prep: OK, you’ve heard enough from Janet Napolitano to know that you should have a few days supply of water and food if things get nasty. That isn’t frozen pizzas, either, as if your power goes out everything in your fridge will suddenly become very smelly. What you can do: It’s not a big deal. Have maybe up to 10 gallons of water on hand – it’s really not that much – just in case the water/sewer system goes kerflooey. Have food you can eat with minimal cooking: if it can be done without a microwave, that’s a great start.
4. Neighbors: Every street has some neighbors who are at higher risk. Maybe they’re older, or sick, or just not very engaged. Doesn’t really matter: you should think about what you all can do to help your street-mates if things go bad. Say someone’s roof blows off, or 10 houses in a row are flooded: is everyone taken care of What you can do: Gosh this is pretty easy. You know who your vulnerable neighbors are. Knock on their door, talk to them about the storm, and learn about what they may need in the coming days. It’s not a big lift.
5. Communications: During the two snow storms we were fairly lucky: we never lost power or cable/Internet access. The same may not be so for any of us next week. Ugh yes, you’ve heard it, but for Heaven’s sake, have a battery or crank radio. Charge, super-charge, your cell phones. Think about how you keep warm for two or three days without power. What you can do: Like we said: get a radio. If you’re counting on electricity or cable connection, don’t. Plan for what happens if it goes out.

Tomorrow we’ll be ambling on the roof checking gutters (I do NOT recommend this!) and cutting some water runoff lines in the back yard to prevent flooding. And cleaning gutters, and just knocking on a few doors. I recommend you do the same. Chances are it will all be just a big nothing…but the whiz-kids at NOAA disagree.

Like we always say: Hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

Good luck, U Street!

Anyone living in, visiting or traveling through the U Street area already knows what a snarl it is. Even more than usual, that is.

Kinda says it all.

Take Tuesday, just this week. Starting around 6am, a ceaseless parade of dump trucks began rumbling down Wallach Place – something L2 developer David Franco promised publicly would never, never happen – to haul the day’s dirt away from Wallach and 14th. 14th Street itself now routinely stops traffic heading north/south, and something U Street east/west, to make things easier for the Louis development (which I think we’ll just calling the Coppi’s killer.)  One lane traffic is the norm, and will be for a while.

Then at 14 and T, a plethora of contractors have taken to just parking somewhere along 14, or T, or who knows where, as they fumble with ladders or lunch or something. And then this Tuesday a large trailer, carrying a large Cat earth mover, just decided to stop in the intersection, blocking the entire 14 and T intersection.

MEMO to DC parking cops: if contractors can park illegally, if dump trucks can take routes they promised not to use, if builders can just stop their rigs anywhere they want, we get to park anywhere we want and ignore the street sweeping restrictions.

Oh, haha, that’s right. Residents don’t matter. Only those building more buildings really matter.

If this is your idea of fun, look forward to a year+ full of entertainment. A few notes on what’s coming:

1. 13th and U PUD: Our friends at JBG have slated a meeting at the Marshall Center (the old Y on 12th between T and S) this Monday evening, October 22, to present their PUD community proposal. Smarter folk than me (and that’s a lot) have pointed out that many of their “benefits” are actually things they’re already to provide as part of the variance, so there’s that. Hmmm…let’s see…anything else happening Monday night that might compete for attendence? Oh, I’m sure there’s not.
2. L2: Currently, project manager Shawn Link from Grunley informs us that they’re in the “excavation, underpinning and installation of aggragate piers phase.” Which means they’re a LOOONG way from being near actually laying foundation, let alone getting cranes. Which also means that the dump trucks may soon lessen, only for things to get worse when actual construction begins.
3. Louis: JBG helpfully tells us (well, grudgingly in a newsletter) about their auger casting and piering and…oh, sorta forgot to say anything about that whole “whoops” thing with the crane. You know: where they actually had to tear down the old skycrane and put up a new one because, oops, they put the first one up in the wrong spot. A friend in town recently who does serious development elsewhere says “that’s probably about a $100,000 mistake right there.”
4. U Street: Oh remember that? Plans to start tearing up all of U Street for redevelopment? Because, you know, the roads surely aren’t in terrible condition from all the heavy construction equipment in the area for the last eight years or so. Yeah, look for that soonish, with even more cones, more lane squeezes, more traffic snarls.

Yeah, I can hear all the teeny tiny violins playing right now. But just remember: swords tend to have two bladed sides. The same development some hail now may become the cause of much grief in the future.

But then, it will be too late. And anyone who complains will just be called names.

One of the more valued aspects (at least for me) about living in an area officially designated as an “Arts Overlay” is the high concentration of creative types – and room for them to do their thing.

Work by Mid City artist Peter Romero.

Of course, the Arts Overlay has now morphed into something decidedly different. There are less spaces for artists to do their thing here, and what does exist is significantly pricier. (Several of our favorite studios have been pushed out of neighborhood, adding their talents to other less high-pressure development areas.)

Still, we’re lucky that many artists remain committed to working here as long as they can. And we’re all lucky that this weekend is one of two biannual weekends they fling open their studio doors to let everyone come and see what they do. And, you know, maybe even pick up a new treasure or two.

DC Mid City artist Brian Petro, hard at work.

This weekend is sponsored by Mid City Artists, a great group that connects those who create with those who wish to acquire. It’s a really great opportunity to meet over two dozen artists in the places they work, and explore their range of work.

It’s a beautiful weekend. Come on out and see some beautiful work. Click on this link for the map of where you can meet with your next favorite artist.