I Wanna Rock, pt. 1

Crazy week, crazy weekend. I won’t bore you with the details, but after successive days of an NBA playoff game in Atlanta and the National Cornbread Festival in South Pittsburg, I got an eyeful of Americana. Based on those experiences, unfortunately, I do not have high hopes for the future of humanity. Rather than dwell on that, I have decided to spin a yarn for you. While this true story focuses on design and is set in Chattanooga, it is a departure from the typical C.Rushing post. 

UPDATE: Some of you might have caught the pop culture reference in the title- 1988's monster hip-hip track "It Takes Two" by Rob Base & D.J. EZ Rock. Minutes after my post went live, I read that EZ Rock had passed away, aged only 46. That's very sad, but hat's off to him for leaving us this.

Hello, my name is C.Rushing, and I have a problem. For the rest of life I will be battling this obsession, but I get stronger with every passing day. I offer a sordid account of my battle with dependence and my struggle for redemption. One plays with fire when reminiscing about their demons, but I feel compelled to tell the story. At the worst of times I was in to the heavy stuff- the LC3 lounge chair, the Eileen Grey table, the Corbusier dining table, Moeller chairs, and indeed, the granddaddy of them all- the 50th Anniversary edition of the Eames lounge chair with Santos Palisander veneer. I was a furniture junkie.

To fully understand my struggle, one must go back to the beginning. I was born into La-Z-Boy addiction. I suppose it can be traced back to infancy when my PaPa would spend hours rocking me in his avocado-colored, pleather, rocking recliner. For as long I can remember I needed to rock- I had to rock. I rocked so hard that after PaPa passed, I wore out his chair, and the two replacement rocker recliners that BaBa (the classic enabler) provided me as I grew into an adult. I was raised in a good and decent family. My family appreciated the value of the odd antique, the timelessness of classic style, and took a prudent approach to budgeting for home furnishings. Aside from my seemingly innocent dabbling in rocking, the furniture scene at home was benign.

How it all began

Like many others, I experimented a bit in college. Architecture school gave me the first taste of forbidden fruit- modern furnishings. Look at this Mies van der Rohe chair. How about a little Bertoia, everyone’s doing it. Try the Noguchi, a little bit won’t hurt. My time out west gave me an opportunity to kick the rocking habit for a few years, but my irrepressible desire merely lie dormant. Upon returning to the south for graduate school and settling in on the plains, I moved in with a roommate who had a smart condo in quiet neighborhood. He also had a La-Z-Boy. I used his chair, sparingly at first, but with increasing frequency over time to the point that I used it more than he did. After some months my steady rocking destroyed both the chair and our friendship. I made amends as best I could on both counts, yet I was again a slave to the chair.

Upon my graduation and subsequent move to Chattanooga, my stepfather (another classic enabler) bought me a La-Z-Boy of my own. The grey-mauve fabric upholstered beauty sucked me in and didn’t let go. I rocked day and night. I would wake early for the sole purpose of rocking before work. Instead of meeting my friends for drinks after work, I lied to them and to myself in order to get back to my hovel of a studio apartment at the Pink Building where I would commence to rock myself to sleep.

It was during this time that I met my future bride. She was a good and decent woman who lived in a respectable and inconspicuously appointed duplex in an emerging nook of North Chattanooga. My desire to spend time with her was so intense that it loosened the grip of the chair. As we grew to spend more time together, it was done so at hers. I was frightened that she would discover my secret- would she still be interested in me if she knew that I rocked? Over time, the inevitability of her discovery became apparent. She would visit the Pink Building from time to time, and sit with me as I rocked. The rocking clearly made her uncomfortable. She often commented that she couldn’t even look at me while I rocked, as the motion induced dizziness and nausea. Yet she returned time and again. Love makes powerful excuses.

Our relationship blossomed, and eventually we moved in together and were married. There was no serious discussion about the furniture. She accepted me for who I was and with the obvious furniture baggage that I carried. This tacit approval of my vice was another form of enabling, one that would have a profound impact on our relationship and my continued journey down the path of furniture dependence.

Oh, the shame.

The obsession grew to impact life outside of my four humble walls. Such was my state that I repeatedly swapped chairs at my office with co-workers in a vain effort to find one with any semblance of a rocking motion. This continued until the City became another unwitting accomplice with their creation of the Development Resource Center. The DRC, appointed as new buildings are with new contract furniture, became the new home of the Design Studio. My new seat was a Herman Miller Aeron C, not a rocker mind you, but a pleasure to sit in. Of more interest to me, however, was the seating in the waiting area. Our guests would be treated to none other than the Eames molded plywood lounge chair. This was a piece that I had only seen on the pages of architecture history books. This piece also sparked an intense jealousy. If I could have this type of seating at work, why can’t I have it…at home.

To Be Continued...

Sweet and Sour

The past two weeks have been full of highs and lows. The ill wind of failure swept down from up north, but a breath of fresh air from England and the warm glow of Augusta’s sun helped soften the blow. Despite more than forty years of practice, I still have issues with accepting defeat. On the bright side, nothing other than my pride got broken and my fit of cussing was no worse than it is during a college football game. The upshot of that little affair is that my groove has been interrupted and I’m still trying to get my head back in the game.

Writing is typically the first casualty of disruptions in my routine. Rather than waiting for the fickle muse of inspiration to return, however, I’ve decided to keep churning out posts until I chase the bastard down. While the blog concerns itself with urban design and our fair city, I suspect that I will venture afield for the next few weeks- or at least until I’m back in my happy place. This week, I’m getting back on the horse to offer thoughts sour and sweet.

On Failure – The Sour


 Anyone who has been on the internet lately knows that failure is in vogue. The world is awash in articles by “innovators” extolling the virtues of failing. The gurus extol the virtue of failure as an opportunity to learn and get better, which theoretically leads to success in the future. Failure can also be a motivator – a la Michael Jordan’s pitiable approach. There is no glory in the act of failing, however, only the potential for redemption in the aftermath. The unfortunate reality is that while there are often opportunities for learning and growth, there are also times when failure is a dead-end. I hate losing. I am unfortunately inclined to wallow in my failures for extended periods. I have come to conclusion that I embrace failure, not necessarily as an opportunity to get better, or as a motivational tool, but because I enjoy feeling the failure.

On The Masters – The Sweet
In the broad variety of human endeavor there exists a “world-class” level of excellence. Some achieve standards that are unequaled anywhere around the globe. The world is a big place, and most common people don’t get the opportunity to experience the world class very often. As a very common person, this is especially true for me. Last year, however, I hit the lottery. Not the one that awards millions of dollars, but the one that grants admittance to a world-class event. I was drawn for tickets to The Masters. If you enjoy sports, this is arguably the greatest fan experience in the world. The venue is breathtaking, comfortable and generous, the crowd is well-behaved and knowledgeable, everyone working there is focused on serving the patrons, food and drink are good and reasonably priced, and even the restroom experience is a lesson in efficiency.

The grounds are amazing. The areas devoted to the galleries have grass that would put the greens of any golf course to shame. I would not be surprised to learn that each square foot of the course has it’s own groundskeeper who cuts each blade individually with tiny little shears. There are no gaps, no brown spots, and no weeds, just a tightly cropped, uniformly saturated emerald blanket. I could go on at length about the place- about how each of the tall pine trees has its own lightning rod, about how no blade of grass would dare grow out of place, and about how the pine needles even seem to know their place. Perfection may be not obtainable, but Augusta National is pretty damned close.

Who the hell allowed that stray leaf on the fairway? Shocking.

While the stage that is the golf course slowly evolves in rhythm with the timeless cycles of nature, the cast of players rotates from day to day and year to year.  In addition to dozens of the best golfers in the world, we got to see the great Alabamian Condoleezza Rice working the green on one of the par threes, we got to see a pink-haired Caroline Wozniacki caddying for her boyfriend, and (speaking of timeless) we got to see the threesome of Nicklaus, Player and Palmer play through.

This was my second visit to what are arguably the most hallowed grounds in the South. As Michelangelo freed Moses from his marble cocoon, Jones and McKenzie coaxed a masterpiece from the east Georgia forest. Southerners recognize the pine forest, it occupies a place in our collective memory. The monument of the course testifies to the undeniable quality of the place, but also tantalizes us with the idea that there exist innumerable other special places slumbering in their own cocoons in Mississippi, in Georgia, in South Carolina, in Alabama. Augusta National belongs to Georgia, but the promise of the place belongs to us all.

Yes, selfies at The Masters are bush league, but I couldn't resist.

I am conflicted about whether or not the return to “real life” from a world-class experience is good or bad. Would one not want to constantly experience excellence in all of life’s endeavors? Yet if one experienced nothing but life’s finest, would the joy of exceptionalism lose its spark?  Must we endure the mundane to appreciate the sublime? Is despair necessary for joy? What is the thrill of victory without the agony of defeat?

What is the sweet without the sour? Is feeling failure necessary to appreciate success?

Nothing to See Here

For my thoughts this week, please Advance to the Benwood Blog... (unfortunately, you cannot collect $200)

They Are Not Your Friend

Word on the street is that TDOT has given the city's Broad Street bike lane grant application the one-finger salute (or two fingers, depending on where you’re from). Surely, you’re not surprised? I suspect that this is one small measure of retribution for the community that dared question their plans for the US-27 expansion. It was also pointed out to me that the overwhelming majority of those grant funds ended up in cities with Republican leadership (which, I suppose, is the way government is run these days). Either way, they told us to have a Coke and smile…and you know the rest.

I’ve said it before, and will say it again- if you love downtown Chattanooga, TDOT is not your friend. They do not care about you unless you are in your car. They do not care about your business. They do not care about social equity in our community. They do not care about our natural environment or the scenic nature of the city. The do not care about our economic development, or long-term job creation. They are laser-focused on the needs of automobile and truck traffic as it moves through places. They do not care about places.  Yet, it is hard to blame TDOT for compromising the character of our downtown in much the same way that it is hard to blame the lion for eating the baby wildebeest. It is their nature to do this. American transportation engineers move cars, they do not care about the bigger picture. For them, quality of life is measured by the quality of your drive.

It's my understanding that the reason we rolled over so easily on US-27 was that by agreeing to acquiesce we would curry favor on future projects. So much for that. Bike lane grants aside, does anyone seriously believe that when the I-24 project rolls around that TDOT will produce anything other than a mega-suburban design? If TDOT fails to realize how bad the US-27 project is for our community, do you think they'll be any more sympathetic when dealing with an interstate farther away from the city core?

Don't worry, I'm not jumping into the union fray...

TDOT talks a good game about community input and participation, but talk is cheap. Developing a design, then holding a public meeting for lay-people to comment does not work. This approach assumes a basis for design that may or not be aligned with the needs of the community. In this case TDOT first developed a design that satisfies their internal needs (derived from their traffic manuals). They then held a town hall meeting in the Westside to show off their design and get to input. What the hell kind of input do they expect to get? (To be fair, they don’t really care about input unless it is negative and gets into the paper). First off, most lay-people can’t read maps. Secondly, those two-dimensional maps don’t do justice to the three-dozen massive retaining walls that wipe out topography and vegetation in reinforcing the divide in the community. In any event, the feedback that they got is that the community wanted to maintain the on-ramp from the Westside onto US-27. We’ll come back to that.

The correct way to go about community-based design is to start in the community. Working with the community before a design is attempted establishes a basis of design that frames the problem. This crucial part of the process establishes the question of the project. As the great Louis Kahn once said “A good question is always greater than the most brilliant answer”. Once the true question of the project is established, only then should pen be put to paper. In fact, after the problem is established, the rest is easy (for as another great Louis [Sullivan] once said, “it is of the very essence of every problem that is contains and suggests its own solution”.) A more equitable process would have seen TDOT conduct the meeting before drawing anything, and talking to the community. I suspect that they would have heard that lack of connection is the problem. US-27 is a massive barrier between a disadvantaged population and the jobs, stores, health facilities and other opportunities in downtown. One only needs witness the “cow paths” that the Westside residents have worn through the existing off-ramp cloverleaf to understand the disservice done when they installed the road in the first place. When they heard about the desire to maintain an on-ramp in their rigged public meeting that was the only way that the community could express their need for greater connection in that context. No other options for connectivity were even on the table.

This begs the question of what else would TDOT have heard had they listened? Obviously, there is no way to know for sure, but I suspect that they would have heard that we place a high value on the character of our natural setting and want to preserve and enhance that. They likely would have heard that we value downtown as an economic development engine for the community and the region, and that scarce downtown land should be put on the tax rolls. I don’t think that they would have heard that we are willing to sacrifice all of the things we hold important for the sake of getting trucks through our town more quickly, or for shaving thirty seconds off of driving times for downtown commuters. They never asked, so we’ll never know. They question they framed came from their traffic manuals in Nashville, not Chattanooga. 

The good news is that the sub-urban motoring culture of the DOT is becoming an anachronism. It is apparent that it doesn’t work, and it’s not sustainable from an economic, environmental, or social standpoint. The bad news is that it appears that US-27 is going to happen before that archetype collapses upon itself. We have only ourselves to blame. The community has to look out for itself; no one is going to do it for us. When we cede decisions concerning our community to "experts" from elsewhere, we get what we deserve.

Density Done Wrong

Quick note: from time to time I stumble onto a serious topic when I was not expecting to. At these times I always feel a bit anxious that the couple of hours of thought and I writing I put in are not worthy of the seriousness of the topic. This is one of those instances. Take this one for what it’s worth, and let's come back to the topic another time…

Every time I leave town, something crazy happens. This time, Taxi-gate. I feel compelled to write something about this; yet, I don’t really have a dog in that hunt. I know both of the principals involved, have a great deal of respect for them both, and know that they’re both working hard for the good of Chattanooga. Hopefully they can work through their differences and forge a manageable working relationship.

The dust-up aside, the core issue- lack of decent transportation options for a large segment of the community- is a serious one. For now, I will not weigh in on the taxicab proposal, but I will make a couple of observations about the larger issues. The truth is that transportation is not the problem, it is merely a symptom. The problem is in our history of affordable housing development.

The provision of affordable housing is a vexing problem. To clarify, I am talking about subsidized public housing; not housing that is affordable for the work force (which is also vexing, but a topic for another day). The economic barriers that are the essence of the problem are real, however, there is a more subtle and pernicious factor in play – design.

For that last several decades of the past century, hundreds of cities around the country built thousands of high-density, low-income housing developments. History has not been a kind judge of these projects. These projects are vilified for their design. The dense complexes became the poster child for all that is wrong with Modern architecture. I certainly wouldn’t defend many of those developments, but I don’t believe that the failure of that model is necessarily in design. I simply don’t believe that dense development is inherently bad from a social standpoint. There is no shortage of examples of dense housing around the world and in our city that functions perfectly. In fact, some of the properties in the hottest market in town, the North Shore, bear a striking physical resemblance to government housing projects both in density and design.

It is widely acknowledged that the biggest issue with those government housing projects was the concentration of poverty. The unintended sociological consequences of that concentration are well known. Unfortunately, the false connection has been made between concentration of poverty and density of development. To the people who have lived in these places, and to those who are involved with trying to improve the situation, density is now equated with poverty and sub-standard housing.
Around the turn of the century, as the inadequacy of the project model of subsidized housing was apparent, work was undertaken to undo some of those wrongs. This work was done under the auspices of Hope-VI and other such programs. Those redevelopment projects were very correctly based on input from those who would live there. The problem is that the basis for input is skewed. There is an understandable (but false) perception that density equals poverty and sub-urban design equals the American dream. When the public input sessions are held, of course the residents express a preference for a big yard, and a gabled single-family house with a picket fence. That is what everyone in society has been programmed to think is decent housing. It’s understandable, and it’s hard to blame anyone for making the association. After living in a dense and impoverished place, the sub-urban life looks great.

What then does this have to do with taxi’s for the underserved? The fact that land use and transportation are inextricably linked. By definition, the more sub-urban a development, the greater the distances between places. While the myth of the sub-urb is seductive, the reality is that it is completely dependent upon the automobile (or some form of personal transportation). Considering the pressing problems of the economically disadvantaged, access is one of the biggest issues: access to nutritious food, access to employment, and access to health care. The fact that the grocery store, jobs, and doctor are miles away is no big deal if you can hop in your car and drive to them. Not everyone can do that, however.

Low density, sub-urban development exacerbates the problems of the economically disadvantaged. Car ownership is expensive. Not only is the car a significant capital outlay; there is also fuel, maintenance and insurance to pay for. If one lives in a sub-urb (or less dense area) without a car, life becomes more difficult. How do you get groceries home from a store that’s five miles away? How does one ensure they consistently get to work on time by walking and using incomplete public transit services? How does one get their children to the emergency room in the middle of the night? When we face those sub-urban problems, then we are forced to develop sub-urban solutions such as scaling back subsidized transit in favor of subsidized taxis.

In theory, development that allows people to live closer to the necessities of everyday life provides the solution to the provision of dignified housing for all of our citizens. Density supports the type of mixed-use development that that put people in close proximity to jobs and good and services. Density also supports more robust mass transit options for the things that can’t be found within walking distance. As long as the bigger issue of poverty concentration is somehow addressed, density seems to provide solutions to many of the issues we face.

As compelling as that theory is, given our track record over the past eighty years, I can’t in good conscience insist upon it. We face a dilemma. It is the responsibility of the community to value and respect the input of the citizenry as we seek to provide dignified and affordable housing. It is also the responsibility of the community to develop in a way that is sensitive to both the resources of the community and the needs of those we are designing for. What happens when those two responsibilities conflict with one another?

Shameless Recycling

As many of you are no doubt aware, the Benwood Foundation has started a community blog. The site features more than a dozen very smart people and me. My focus in that space is pretty much the same as it is here, sans cussing and Alabama football. My first post on that site came out a week ago.  However, due to the shocking (if not understandable) lack of retweets and likes, I am using reusing that post as this week's C.Rushing offering. Enjoy...

http://www.benwood.org/perspective/untitled#.UycTBF5xq3s

I want a hamburger... no, a cheeseburger... I want a hot dog... I want a milkshake...

After being tested in the sub-freezing climes of Iowa, the mere freezing temps in New England this week posed no problem for your boy. Apologies, but with the passing of football season, it appears that weather has become my new crutch for the blog opening. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. A few pitch-perfect days in the Scenic City, however, have blunted the edge of winter’s memory so hopefully we can put this little phase behind us.

Over the course of the last three years I have written about a wide variety of things. Yet when it comes to describing exactly what I would like to see our city become, I’ve been batting the bunny around. I’ve never made specific comments about what I want. This week I will remedy that by providing just such a list. Your list may differ and that’s one of the things that makes this country great. As a great Alabamian once said, “I may be wrong, but I doubt it.”

Disclaimer: Each of the items on this list is less important the process of developing a community vision for how they are achieved.

-I want a borderline out-of-control college strip. I’m getting on up there, so this is not likely to benefit me directly. (My version of an out-of-control night involves happy hour and ends before the sun goes down) The energy of an active social scene for young adults adds immeasurably to the life of a city. I think we’re on the verge of this happening- the question is where. Vine Street? Patten Parkway? The Boulevard? Time will tell….

-I want racially and economically diverse neighborhoods. One could argue that we have a few, unfortunately, those are all in one stage of gentrification or another (and yes, there is hypocrisy in that statement). What I want are stable and established urban neighborhoods where people of every race and income level are accommodated and welcomed. It is an understatement to say that this is a challenge in a market economy, but this is my list and it’s what I want.

-I want shade. There are a couple of places downtown where an attractive tree canopy sets a memorable stage for downtown life. Unfortunately, those places are vastly outnumbered by places devoid of vegetation. The TDOT expansion of US-27 will reduce the area of downtown tree coverage by probably 30%, and in return they are gifting us concrete walls and roads. I don’t think most people understand how seriously this will impact the scale and character of downtown. As we have rolled over on that project, we are left to try to mitigate the damage.  This means planting trees anywhere we can.

-I want to be forced out of my car. I love to drive my car. I have always loved to drive. I would dearly love to have a downtown where it is so fun and convenient to walk, bike and use transit that I would prefer that to driving. Penalizing drivers through taxes, parking fees or other policies will ultimately be less effective than creating places that are more fun and convenient to walk/bike/ride through. That’s the old question of carrot v. stick. On my trip last week it would have been easy and cost effective to rent a car at the airport and drive to my destinations. I was willing, however, to take the T and walk dozens of blocks in sub-freezing temperatures, because that was more fun than the car would have been. Oh, the joy of a city where it is more fun to walk around than it is to drive.

-I want a good Chinese restaurant. I have said this before. Good hot and sour soup is one of life’s great joys, and crispy duck is one of the crowning achievements of human kind. Unfortunately, there is no great Chinese restaurant in this county. My vision for downtown includes a great Chinese for both dine-in and take-out. Consider the great cities in our country- they have great Chinese restaurants, if not an entire China-town.

-I want more. More housing, more people, more store, more restaurants, more parks. Density is the defining characteristic of downtown, and the greater the density, the greater the variety of offerings for the community.

I’m sure that there are other things that I want, but this is the best I could do off the top of my head. Please feel to add your comments on what you want below…