On New Year's Eve, for the first time in over 25 years, The Ravishing Mrs. TB and I went to a New Year's social event out in the public.
As it turned out, it was a bit of a fluke: my sister and her family had come to New Home to celebrate an anniversary and gave us tickets to the event as our Christmas gift (they were attending as well). Not necessarily the sort of thing I attend (regularly or otherwise), but even I am open to a new experience once in a while.
The event, for the record, was pretty much what I expected it to be. On the bright side, it was a 1920's themed event and people definitely dressed up for it, which was pleasant. Also rather cool to behold were couples in their 60's and 70's out dancing and obviously enjoying themselves (and in love). The music was loud to start with and got louder. Our tickets included all the alcohol one could drink (for the record, I had one glass of cabernet and a glass of champagne at midnight) and a rather sad trickle of snacks that was...well, at least they warned us it was "while supplies last".
I may or may not have even danced a bit.
But to go to this event, of course, we had to go downtown.
My images of "downtown" and "The City" were rather blurry growing up. My memories very early on were mostly the song from Petula Clark, "Downtown" (perhaps obviously in its post release days as part of a Reader's Digest music compilation), which included lines like "Listen to the music of the traffic in the city" and "Linger on the sidewalks where the neon lights are pretty". Old Home was a small town (which had an actual downtown back in the day, sans neon lights and traffic), but sometimes we would go to Capital City.
Capital City consisted (in my childhood world) mostly of the Capital grounds, where we would go and feed squirrels, and the zoo, and historical sites and very occasionally, a shopping mall. Every year as well for a number of years growing up we would to to The Big City for a medical appointment (I had a condition where I just walked on the balls of my feet; it is better, but you can now always tell by my wear patterns on my shoes), which would include a visit to A Major Tourist Site or a very cool museum and park. In those days I was hazy about the environment of the cities themselves; my memories are mostly of the experiences, not the surroundings.
Except people. I remember a lot of people.
New Home is one of those "up and coming places" which is in a race to destroy itself and its uniqueness in order to be fashionable and relevant to the world around it. Even in our time here, skyscrapers have soared into downtown, bringing apartment buildings and condos and upscale stores. Land is actually so valuable that older buildings sell and are torn down, replaced by large squares of apartments with chic upscale restaurants and stores underneath, wedged in between older buildings that somehow manage to cling to their location out of nostalgia or sheer spite.
This started in downtown, but the "improvement" is working its way west to the upscale housing and meeting upscaling working down from the North. Only the eastern half of the city "remains" in its pre-center of the universe status and even there, pockets of "the future" are now emerging.
The Eastern half, of course, is where we stayed.
Human urine is a smell that, much like marijuana, once you know it you never forget it. And that was the smell that greeted us as we walked from the parking lot to our hotel and then to the restaurant to dinner.
This part of the city is right on the razor's edge between new and old: on one side - a clear, demarcating invisible line, is "the future". On the other side are buildings - bars, tattoo parlors, low end restaurants, the occasional unique store - in buildings that for the most part are clearly from early in the previous century. In some cases the word "crumbling" is as kind characterization.
The homeless are here, wedged in between bars and restaurants: sleeping in doorways, sitting on corners, rolled up in blankets with carts nearby. Some speak up, asking for change, others just watch you go by.
Patches of marijuana smell rise up like isolated rain clouds, vendors demonstrating the value of hemp in ways legal and not-so legal. Music spills over from walls of enclosed patios or from open windows of bars. We are still early: the roving bands of the younger set, coming for drink or amusement or to be seen will be out long after we have gone to our party. But the street is even now blocked off and people are moving up and down lanes that saw traffic earlier in the day; luckily if they are weaving, there is far less danger.
It is not that I ever felt unsafe: the sun was up, the lights were on, and I am aware enough and wary enough that I am at best a troublesome mark if perhaps an underweight easy one. And certainly given the season, it is unlikely our local politicians or local law enforcement are interested in having high profile issues on New Years; The police were out and in force.
It is always a problem, of course. Cities and counties bemoan the fact of development that wipes away their unique qualities even as they greedily stick out their hands to gain the income from increase property taxes and higher end taxes that come with increased tourism and sales. They placate their inner guilt with development projects that in theory are civic minded but never seem to actually preserve the uniqueness of what they had; parks and community centers and monuments to their own glory are pale reflections of what used to be.
Culture, once unmade, can only rarely be recaptured.
It is not often that I go to any city or downtown, and there is a high likelihood that I will not see this downtown - at least at night - for the rest of our time here. Not just because of the public safety, although that is a legitimate concern. It is the reality that, hidden behind the rising towners and shining spires and self-congratulatory plaudits of the modern city lies the decay of modern life, pushed off to the sides and quietly tolerated as the cost of relevancy.
I do not remember this in the cities of my childhood; perhaps it was there and I simply missed it. But I surely cannot see any city - at least any American city - with anything but this lens now. The rot - but really the smell of old urine, all of the failures of urban life contained - is not something one hurries back to see.
In one of Joel Salatin's books, he asks the question - what are cities for? As in, what usefulness do they provide to society? In conversations I've had, the common answers revolve around their opportunities of things to do: cultural activities, amusements, entertainments. Occasionally someone will say job and career opportunities.
ReplyDeleteMaybe. But there seems to be a rather glaring discrepancy between opinion and reality. No one seems to know how to stop the decay. Political promises certainly haven't done it and modern political philosophies seem to aiding the demise of our cities. I keep thinking someone ought to care. Maybe it's just rhetoric. I can't help but wonder if our future includes massive ghost towns where cities once stood.
Leigh, it is an interesting discussion. Originally, cities made sense (in the long ago) for defensive purposes, and the commercial purposes. But along with both of those came the idea of cities as centers and reservoirs of power - I saw that in the ancient citadel of Mycenae in Greece, which was quite clearly built by a group that could impound the labor to do it.
DeleteAll of the things you list are true. But that comes at a price, not only in higher cost of living (true in every city in the world) as well as an increased dependency on the continued operation of the city. We perhaps see this most clearly now in the idea of the 15 minute city, where individuals are to be packed in like sardines and their entire lives to be conducted within 15 minutes of their dwelling place. That requires a high level of co-ordination - and control.
Arguably cities face one of two futures: either a "hollowing out" of the center or a complete redevelopment of the center that essentially pushes the less desirable elements, or at least the less resolvable elements, to the fringes. In the first scenario, things simply become unlivable due to the conditions; in the other, things become unlivable to a great many who cannot afford to live there (myself included).
The single biggest issue is that cities are completely dependent on the world for their existence. Very few can feed themselves, clothe themselves, provide water and energy and a variety of living items for themselves. They remain dependent on the surrounding countryside and world to provide them. Once upon a time this was managed by the local countryside; our modern ravening maw now uses things from literally all over the world. That relies on a lot of things, including supply chains and economic systems and stable currencies, all of which are incredibly complex and can go down for any number of reasons.
If reports are to be believed, some of these ghost cities already exist in China: modern cities built for a population that did not come. And even in some locations within the US, we are seeing a sort of de-urbanization in some areas.
Dealing with ramifications of City Life, in the thirty four years that I have lived in my home in a first ring suburb the property taxes have increased 400 per cent. That has purchased less law protection, especially since 2020 when the Big City across the river exploded into urban violence despite my counties Sheriff's department being on the ball, for a view of what they go through search using "Live on Patrol" and watch the ride-alongs. Yah TB, the urban smells these days are waaaay different since the turn of the century.......:)
ReplyDeleteNylon12, property taxes are one of the many things cities do not like to talk about. Our number has not been 400%, but we have only been here 10 years. Add in the overall higher costs of living, and one wonders if one is truly getting all the bang for the buck.
DeleteIt is interesting. 100 years ago the smell of urine - horse urine and likely human urine - would still likely have been a feature of many US cities. Supposedly we civilized beyond that, but apparently not.
Innocence lost...
ReplyDeleteIt is, TM - although I am grateful I had those memories. In the example of The Big City, it is simply somewhere I will not go anymore. I do have those memories though, which gives me a frame of reference when folks talk about "how it used to be". I can at least see how that would have been true.
DeleteI wonder if the stale urine odor is actually the physical manifestation of those failed political promises coupled with the decay of local society? I remember heading into downtown Houston to record a concert at a non-standard venue. We were there on a Saturday morning, and decided to walk a few blocks to get a McBarf Breakfast Deal. The concentrated urine smell around the old, empty buildings we passed were worse than the High Plains Hog Market I cleaned out in high scruel for folding money. It would gag a maggot off a gut wagon.
ReplyDeleteMy first foray into New Orleans brought odors I could not recognize or categorize. As I walked around the French Quarter (Oct 1998), the smells would get very strong between the buildings or near patches of dirt. I finally settled on an 'interpretation': it was the stench of countless bladder dumps, offscour of illicit liaisons and voluminous vomitus from every Fat Tuesday orgy since creation, and the associated demonic decay that town is famous for the other months of the year. Probably even included some debauched political corruption stank as well. I didn't want to touch my boots after I bravely ran away to my motel room. Behold the gleaming, steaming city, den of cultural activities, amusements and filth. The High Plains Hog Market after sale day was more wholesome.
Thanks for the memories TB. Merry New Year....
STxAR - I have never been to New Orleans, but what you describe is probably true of any major urban center, especially one with "bar row" (sometimes known as college row). And yes, it does leave one with a bit of an unclean feeling as one makes their way back to "civilization".
DeleteBut to your point, even that is not an issue without ramification. All of that urine eventually washes into storm drains which may or may not feed into the sewer system but rather into local creeks, where it runs into rivers and ponds where individuals swim and fish (I cannot for the life of me picture either of those activities near an urban center). Let alone all the wasted and lost human potential that represents.
To your point, animal facilities are sometimes much more wholesome.
Happiest of New Year's!
I've never lived anywhere such as what you describe nor do I ever want too. Whenever I venture to places such as coastal California where the homeless are everywhere or New Orleans where the smell of urine is everywhere, I am shocked at why anyone would want to live in such places. I can find lots of cultural things to do in much smaller places.
ReplyDeleteEd, I have to say the occasional forays are enough to convince me that it is not for me as well. To your point, there are just as many good cultural opportunities and more available in equally desirable or even better places. But somehow, modern living has "convinced" us we need to be in urban environments.
DeleteYou are braver than I, TB. I would have said Thank you, but no thank you."
ReplyDeleteYou all be safe and God bless.
Outside of the environment itself, it was a reasonably good time Linda, and certainly a good reminder to myself about why I do not do such things more often.
DeleteI live in a suburb of a city (Nashville) that sounds similar to what you describe as far as new growth (skyscrapers, apartments, etc.). And since I moved here 25 years ago, it is has been completely transformed, and real estate (both commercial and residential) appreciates by the minute. From a distance, it looks cool. But once I'm in the middle of it (for the occasional symphony concert or sporting event), I am ready to go home.
ReplyDeleteBob, from what you describe, it sounds quite similar indeed: looks super great from afar, but much less impressive on the street level. Certainly not something I need to rush back to.
Delete