A potpourri of the cringeworthy: "Urban Dinosaurs: It's Time These 8 Things Went Extinct In Our Cities."

This sounds familiar.

A lot of suburban chain retailers have been wrangled by city regulations into moving their parking to the side or back of the store, but they've moved the "front" of the store to the back right along with the parking lot, surmising (probably correctly) that that's how most of their customers will be entering. The problem is it creates a dead street that's hostile to human activity. Like this gem of an example of malicious compliance, in which a transformer box and some landscaping send a clear message: "Okay, they told us we had to have a door facing the sidewalk. They didn't tell us we had to make one our customers would ever want to use!"

In other words, Jeff Gahan's $15 million Reisz Mahal, which won't have an entrance from Main Street.

Urban Dinosaurs: It's Time These 8 Things Went Extinct In Our Cities, by Daniel Herriges (Strong Towns)

 ... I hit up the Strong Towns Community site—our dedicated platform for Strong Towns members to meet each other and ask questions, offer advice and spark discussion—to crowd-source some ideas for a list of design features that should go the way of the dinosaur, lest the next generation be forced to cringe 25 years from now at our hard-to-reverse bad choices. And our brilliant members obliged with some good ones.

Some of these pertain to the public realm—the streets, the sidewalks, things the government itself ought to permanently stop doing. Some of them are about the private realm: things we might consider prohibiting developers from ever doing on their own land, because it harms and degrades the public realm when they do.

Either way, as a Strong Towns advocate, I'd be happy if I never saw another one of these urban design mistakes again in my city. How about you?

Here's the list. To read the reasons why, click through to Strong Towns.

• Sloped parking.
• Snout houses.
• Ultra-wide residential streets.
• Four-lane death roads.
• Retail that turns its back on the street.
• "Pod" subdivisions.
• Reeeeeeeally long blocks.
• Huge curb radii.

Not me, but still: "Meet the blogger powering a cycle revolution."

During the approximate 15-year period of 1998 through 2012, I was an avid bicyclist. The late Kevin Richards got me back into it (I hadn't biked since high school) and it was a blast.

Regional forays led to overseas excursions. Those trips to Europe we took were the best ever. Back home I tried hard to organize my life such that I could bike or walk to work.

Then, as the Bank Street Brewhouse expansion devolved into trench warfare, I had less time for my bicycle. There was burnout involved, too. I took up walking in 2013 and haven't been on a bike in at least three years.

As much as I rode there for a while, a part of me always resisted the competitive aspect of bicycling, which Kevin very much embraced. For instance, I always used middle-of-the-road hybrid tires, and as I grew more confident I tended to avoid the more egregious of the showy costumes whenever possible.

One time I went out with a group of bicycling club enthusiasts for a ride in Harrison County, and what I remember about it was their conversation for the better part of two hours about all the money they were spending on bigger and better equipment.

It was my last group ride. Me? Just a locally-oriented beercyclist, thanks.

It wasn't just a weekend thing for me. It was everyday. In 2010 my mileage log showed more than 3,000 miles, but no single trip exceeded 30. I enjoyed commuting by bike when possible, and saw it as an essential part of urban life even in a place like New Albany where the doltish ruling elites never once grasped the meaning of it (and still don't).

Because any city official who believes a sharrow symbol can be drawn on Vincennes Street and this somehow encourages the use of bicycles is a complete moron and hardly worth my precious time to insult him/them. 

This article goes beyond my own ruminations, and yet there's a big element of it to which I can well relate. The whole point of a bicycle is democratic. It's a freedom kind of thing. It's well past time for me to get back in the saddle, albeit it with modest and sustainable aims. Abysmal time-servers in government and oblivious drivers behind steering wheels both aside, bikes are a tool in the urban arsenal.

I need to reclaim mine.

Meet the blogger powering a cycle revolution, by Robyn Wilder (The Guardian)

Dump the Lycra and competitive attitude. Cycling is open to all. Activist Jools Walker reveals why life is better by bike – and why she’s fighting to make it more socially inclusive

I’m sitting in the dark eating biscuits with Jools Walker while she tells me about elitism in cycling. It’s not quite what I was expecting from an interview with an icon in the cycling community, but the rain has forced us inside. Five minutes ago Walker was gliding through the park on her Pashley Princess against a curtain of falling blossom. Now the rain is lashing the windows as we sit on her sofa, with the rain-spotted bicycle propped against an armchair, looking slightly resentful.

“The way cycling is portrayed sometimes…” Walker tells me, reaching for another biscuit from the super-sized tin her mother has supplied. “It can feel like you have to have the latest gear or the latest bike, or whatever, to take part. The other day I heard someone refer to it as ‘the new golf’. No offence to any golfers, of course,” she adds. “But cycling doesn’t have to be this hyped, expensive, middle-class, aspirational thing. There’s the Lycra that you’re supposed to squeeze yourself into, the diet regimes to make you the fittest and the best, and get thighs the size of a lamb. It’s just like… No! That isn’t it. It’s part of the narrative, but it’s not the whole story.”

Walker, it should be noted, does not have thighs the size of a lamb. Sure, she cuts a glamorous figure in her paper-bag trousers and statement necklace – and her blog, VéloCityGirl, was originally devoted to cycling and fashion. However, it’s her candid, humorous takes on mental health, the female cycling experience and the industry challenges for women of colour that have made her such a prominent presence.

Now she’s written a funny, vibrant book, Back in the Frame: How To Get Back on Your Bike, Whatever Life Throws at You, which details how cycling has helped (and hindered) her own wellbeing – in particular her diagnosis of depression, and the stroke she suffered in her 30s. It’s also an instructional manual for any budding female cyclists who, like her, aren’t seeing anyone in the industry they relate to – whether that’s other women, women of colour, or just the fact that they’re 28 and might feel they’re past it ...

In New Albany, do we really pay attention to what we claim to be paying attention to?

Horbovetz's point is well-taken in the context of my own blogging experience. It has been only recently that posts about what I'd consider genuine matters of importance in New Albany -- TASER threats from intemperate bureaucrats, future city hall cost overruns, the mayor's deforestation fetish, City Hall's street grid ineptitude -- even get close to the readership levels accorded restaurants and "fun and cool" stuff.

But ... it's getting better. Thanks for reading, and don't forget to vote.

IT'S TIME TO START PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT WE CLAIM TO PAY ATTENTION TO, by Arian Horbovetz (The Urban Phoenix via Strong Towns)

 ... We all love happy, positive, sense-enticing news that makes us feel good about our communities. In fact, I truly believe we need more of this kind of positivity with regard to our cities. Community engagement and a feeling personal ownership over the places we live are the first steps toward empowering our urban cores and our neighborhoods.

But, as with everything, we need balance. As we rejoice with the great stories of new restaurants and fun events in our cities, let’s remember that our attentions also need to focus on the complexities and intricacies of our cities, some of which are difficult to digest. Issues of poverty, equity, transportation, jobs, community health and diversity continue to be overshadowed by the bright lights of “progress” in our city centers ...

"Older adults desire accessible urban housing, too; developers should pay attention."

Of the facilities under construction, the senior living rehab at M. Fine, on Main near Vincennes, comes nearer to matching this paradigm than the one on Grant Line Road (a few hundred yards of conceivably finished sidewalk away from Wal-Mart, poor devils).

But there's not much in terms of immediately walkable destinations either place. The walk along untamed Grant Line wouldn't be very pleasant, even if Community Park is nearby. On Main, the dining options are 12 blocks away, downtown, and there are no nearby grocery stores except the dollar emporiums on Vincennes.

In reprinting these survey findings, Strong Towns had this to say:

“In your town, are there neighborhoods where three generations of a family could reasonably find a place to live, all within walking distance of each other?”

And:

If we primarily build senior housing on the fringes of our cities, then that's where seniors will "choose" to live. If we, instead, build senior housing next door to other sorts of central city housing, we'll stop leaving our elders stranded in suburbia and create those intergenerational neighborhoods that help build strong towns.

Some day in new Albany, we'll be debating matters like this in terms like these. Until then, it's monetization, grandma.

Seniors want walkability, too, survey says, by Patrick Sisson (Curbed)

Older adults desire accessible urban housing, too; developers should pay attention

We assume millennials prefer walkability and urban living for all the right reasons: social cohesion and community, better access to entertainment, services, and jobs. So why do we assume that older Americans and senior citizens, who also value connectivity, community, and healthy living, wouldn’t prefer the same living arrangement?

According to a new study by A Place for Mom, a nationwide referral service, the Senior Living Preferences Survey, older Americans value walkable urban centers. The survey asked 1,000 respondents nationwide about their living preferences, and a majority said it was very important or somewhat important to live in a walkable neighborhood, as well as one with low crime that was close to family.

“It’s time to abandon the idea that only millennials and Generation X care about walkability and the services available in dense urban neighborhoods,” says Charlie Severn, head of marketing at A Place for Mom. “These results show a growing set of senior housing consumers also find these neighborhoods desirable. It’s a trend that should be top of mind among developers.”

"If you’re a Person Who Lives in a City, your voice matters. If you’re a Person on a Bike, get out there and ride."

Because if you're an elected official in New Albany, wouldn't it be wonderful if you read and digested thoughts like these?

Why I'm Not a Cyclist, by Kea Wilson (Strong Towns)

 ... I resist the term “cyclist” because I don’t believe riding a bicycle should, by necessity, be an extreme sport. You don’t magically become a NASCAR racer when you get behind the wheel of your Honda—and if the street outside your house was designed like the Indianapolis motor speedway, you’d probably be pretty stressed out. I ride a bike for the same reasons many Americans do. Or the reasons that many of them would if they thought they’d be safe doing it:

• Because it’s cheaper to get to the grocery store or the movies on my bike, and quicker, especially if I’m headed to that ultra-packed downtown food festival
• Because some of my best memories are from group rides with friends to north city breweries, rain-soaked and happy by the time we sat down for burgers and $4 drafts
• Because it’s good exercise? Kind of. But I’d be lying if I said that mattered much to me ...

 ... We can all see the problems in our neighborhoods—and if people get the message that they need to be experts to participate in conversations about how to fix their towns, then we’re losing out on an enormous and crucial resource.

Engaged citizenry shouldn’t require expertise, any more than riding a bike should require a $2000 frame and a mastery of cycling lingo (and to my cyclist friends reading this: forgive me for whatever I’ve butchered). If you’re a Person Who Lives in a City, your voice matters. If you’re a Person on a Bike, get out there and ride.

Hard time: Otherwise known as the era of Louisville's (and New Albany's) suburban errors.

Two articles, different eras, each providing a unique angle of observation.

First, the here and now, with a reaffirmation of urban timelessness. The scene is Charlotte, North Carolina, but as you're reading, ponder the Ohio River Bridges Project and the way this financially onerous slice of "mobility" wrongheadedness represents a veritable coup d'état on behalf of suburban power elites in Indyucky.

Developers look to urban areas, not suburbs, for growth, by Elly Portillo (Charlotte Observer)

 ... Behind the shift are changing demographics and consumer preferences, said Chris Leinberger, a developer and real estate consultant who has worked on projects in Charlotte with well-known developers such as the late Henry Faison.

“We used to think walkable urban use was a niche market,” said Leinberger, who is also a professor at George Washington University. “Now, it is the market.”

Broken Sidewalk thoughtfully provides a companion piece, illustrating Louisville's decision-making "blunders" in the 1960s and 1970s. The important point in this for me is that Southern Indiana's leaders at the time cut their tactics from the same sad cloth. In New Albany, hallowed personages like Garnet Inman, Warren Nash and a whole crop of bankers and civic leaders leveled buildings, paved parking lots, ran interstate-intensity one-way streets through the city, and always sought to keep the undesirables warehoused in controllable areas, apart from the respectable folks.

Why do we venerate and honor these people? Shouldn't they be arraigned and subjected to show trials? After all, today their ilk are the ones we must battle every unresponsive step of the way, seeking to pry slight measures of progress from their cold, clueless, unresponsive hands.

When they pretend to be "democrats" -- well, that's even worse.

Worst: Louisville went crazy with the wrecking ball in the name of “Urban Renewal”

We're still paying the price of poor urban vision from the 1960s and '70s.

[Editor’s Note: Louisville has made some pretty amazing achievements in its first 238 years—but it’s made a few blunders along the way, too. This week, we’re launching a new contributed mini-series documenting eight of the best and eight of the worst decisions, ideas, or projects that have profoundly affected the city. This list is by no means complete—and you may have strong opinions of your own about what should be on the best or worst lists. Share your thoughts in the comments section below. Or check out the complete Best/Worst list here.]

A policy that was intended to improve the quality of life for city-dwellers actually resulted in expediting the social and cultural deterioration of urban Louisville. We’re talking about, of course, the now-infamous urban renewal programs of the mid-20th century.

Large swaths of Louisville’s Downtown were essentially “scrubbed clean” of any existing structures and replaced by acres of asphalt surface parking lots and generic, bland buildings.

The poor were relocated to barracks-style housing west of Ninth Street that lacked any neighborhood appeal and shunned the variety of uses that made cities tick. In case after case, in city after city, these policies of relocation have failed the public good.

Urban trees: Not bright shiny objects, just supremely useful and necessary for "quality of life."

Rosenbarger Deforestation Project, Thomas Street Edition.

I saw a comment on social media from a friend. He was lamenting the loss of trees being removed to make way for the expansion of Beach Mold & Tool. For those unfamiliar with New Albany, the firm is located on the north side in a suburban setting, at the foot of the Knobs. It may be small consolation, but at least a fair number of trees remain nearby.

My reply was that there ought to be a law: Remove a tree and plant five in its place.

Since we moved into our house in 2003, we've been forced to remove one diseased tree. We've planted about 16, and I like those odds.

As a city, we have a tree board, an arborist and a tree plan. I don't need to spend time researching this issue to know (not guess) that we're not being sufficiently pro-active in restoring an urban street canopy battered by disasters over the past decade. We all know this is because of non-prioritized funding. We've bonded $20 million for parks improvements, which have included the planting of trees in parks, and yet there are entire residential blocks downtown with none.

As this article attests, and as anyone who ever walks downtown in summer can verify, shade equates to coolness. In times of escalating temperature, anything equating to coolness that can supplement the electrical demands of air conditioning is a bonus.

Trees do that. They're a need ... not a want.

Why Urban Trees Solve Most of Our Problems

 ... The unequal allocation of city greenery means that many low-income and nonwhite urbanites are missing out on the benefits of having trees on their city blocks, which, it turns out, are significant.

If your street is peppered with Magnolias and American Sweet Gums, your neighborhood will look better, sound better, and be less windy. Trees in urban spaces suppress noise, beautify monochromatic pavement, and reduce wind speeds.

If offensive city noises do traverse the leafy canopy outside your window, you'll be less stressed about it.

As new attitudes have fed the Indianapolis area's apartment boom, old attitudes doom New Albany's.

Here in New Albany, we spend much time over beer, coffee and various illicit pharmaceuticals discussing the perennial disconnect between theory and practice.

For instance, just about everyone taking a position on the future of downtown acknowledges that more people need to live there. Granted, our Slumlord Empowerment Districts (i.e., historic neighborhoods) lie only a short distance from downtown, but after a decade spent trying to make the point that ideas like walkability and complete streets apply to these neighborhoods just as much as free federal stabilization monies when it comes to effectively connecting them with downtown, the powers that be still look at messengers like us as though we were extras populating the cantina scene in Star Wars.

The only downtown housing solution ever advanced during the past decade of muddle was the catastrophic Mainland Properties proposal to use a $15 million parking garage as collateral to find the money its backers didn't possess, perhaps leading eventually to habitation at DC-level prices. Meanwhile, empty buildings still sit, unused and rotting, and there hasn't been a new building erected downtown since the Redmen's Club (later Steinert's) ... which remains vacant.

Perhaps, in the end, our perennial disconnect reflects our enduring contempt for education. If one persists in thinking that an empty-nester is someone who didn't get lucky last night at the Road House, and a millennial is a flower that returns to bloom each spring, then it's hard to picture this city ever turning the corner on downtown housing.

After all, valuable corners are meant to be sacrificed for a farmers market, not for thinking outside self-imposed boxes. And so we stumble, dully, into the future.

New attitudes have fed Indianapolis area's apartment boom, by Chris Sikich (Indy Star)

 ... Changing attitudes and lifestyles have boosted the apartment industry even as the new home market has emerged from the recession, said Drew Klacik, senior policy analyst at the Indiana University Public Policy Institute.

• Millennials, he said, are interested in living in an urban environment without the long-term binds of mortgages. Millennials are a key demographic, expected to grow from 36 percent of the workforce today to 50 percent by the end of the decade, according to Denver-based Progressive Urban Management Associates.

• Empty-nesters, he said, are ready to downsize and give up the maintenance headaches associated with home ownership. The first wave of baby boomers reached 65 in 2011, and the last will turn 65 in 2029.

"Millennials and empty-nesters want walkable new urban neighborhoods," Klacik said. "The stuff Carmel and Westfield are doing is a really big deal, and that really is the trend."

"Living better and smarter shouldn’t be a partisan issue."

As the author accurately notes, a restoration of balance between urban and suburban is about providing options for those so inclined, not emulating Ceausescu's forced resettlement policies.

The American Dream: Phase II, by Allison Arieff (NYT Opinionator blog)
By ALLISON ARIEFF

... The aforementioned changes point to the fact that a paradigmatic shift in our concept of the American dream is underway. And this shift is not just because of the recession, says Gregory Vilkin, managing principal and president of MacFarlane Partners, quoted in that USA Today piece, “It’s no longer the American dream to own a plot of land with a house on it and two cars in the driveway.”

The country could be moving toward something much better, something that’s less about consumption (of stuff, of such essential resources) and more about quality of life.