Cleaning Up the Creek

The South Fork of Peachtree Creek winds through Morningside before it heads north and joins Peachtree Creek, not far upstream from the Piedmont Road bridge.  The South Fork is a prominent feature in several neighborhood parks, including Herbert Taylor Park, the new park on Zonolite, and the Morningside Nature Preserve.  More land with public access and more trails mean more people getting upset about seeing the creek used as an urban dump site.  Yesterday morning there were two clean-ups done apparently simultaneously, one at the park near Zonolite and one at the Morningside Nature Preserve.  

Iain and I went to the clean-up in Morningside, which was arranged (as we learned after we got there) by Trudy's friend Wayne through the Sierra Club, with help from Park Pride and the Morningside Lenox Park Association.  The city sent two trucks from the Parks Department, and Park Pride had a staff person there with a sign-up sheet, gloves, shovels, wheel barrows, and a cooler full of ice water.  We entered the property from the service road under the power lines on Wildwood and walked up a short distance and then down a long steep hill to get to the creek, near the new bridge.  

There we picked up cans and plastic bottles and broken glass and pulled plastic bags out the stream.  Tires were dug out (I think the total was 18), although one near the bridge that was half-submerged and impaled on a large log defied removal with the tools we had available.  And there was all kinds of trash.  There was a cooler and a large trash can and a plastic bat (the baseball kind, not the flying animal kind) filled with sand that was so heavy we thought at first it was made of wood.  There were underwear, t-shirts, at least one sock, and one woman's boot with a heel not well-suited for walking on the beach (maybe that's how it came to be in the water).

When it rains, the water can be nasty, due (as I understand it, anyway) primarily to sewer overflows upstream in Dekalb County.  But yesterday it looked pretty good, and there were lots of small fish in sheltered areas of the stream.  We saw a frog and a salamander, both of which are pretty good indicators that the water can't be too bad.

At the same time, another crew was working in the area near Zonolite.  First there's access, then there's trails.  People like being able to walk through green space alongside a creek in the city.  Then there's stewardship and the expectation that someone upstream will do what they need to do to clean up the water.  Then there's advocacy.  That's the plan, anyway, and at least yesterday morning, it looked to me like it was working.

A Matter of Scale

On September 16, the mural at the intersection of McDonough & Sawtell was painted over. It had been created in mid-August by the Argentinian artist Hyuro for the street art event Living Walls 2012.  The plans that had been submitted to the city indicated that the mural would feature images of chairs.  But when the artist saw the wall, the dimensions were different than she had expected, so instead she painted a mural that featured multiple images of a nude woman.

Not unexpectedly, the controversy started right away.  There was a church across the street, and a mosque not far away.  While the leadership of the church made no public statements as far as I know, the leader of the mosque made clear that he found the images inappropriate and offensive.  Still, there was a good deal of thoughtful conversation among the residents of the neighborhood; there were people who liked the work and wanted it to stay, people who liked the work but thought it was in the wrong place, and people who didn't like it and wouldn't have liked it anywhere.

The Chosewood Park Neighborhood Association convened a meeting on September 10 to discuss the mural.  A motion to leave the mural as it was didn't pass, and one to have it removed did pass.   But before anything was done, on September 12, the mural was vandalized by someone with a can of spray paint who couldn't spell ("TAKE THIS SHIT TO BUCHHAD") and on September 16, Living Walls staff covered the figures in the mural with gray paint.  Now, it's gone.

I haven't been back there, since the Sunday afternoon a couple of weeks ago when Sarah and I went to see it.  It's a pretty bleak area, across the street from the Federal prison, on the periphery of the site of the old GM plant site; the church across the street is really all there is in the immediate area.  For a month, there was a wonderful piece of art there, but now it's gone.

Still, it's right that it was left to the community to decide.  An artist from another country changed her mind about what she was going to paint.  I assume that the organizers of the art festival don't want property owners to be concerned about participating in the event next year.  The majority of the neighborhood (or at least of the ones who were eligible to vote) wanted the work to be removed.  So it was.

I've been thinking about what I hope will happen next.  Hyuro's work is gone, and I don't think she's going to come back from Argentina to paint pictures of chairs on the wall.  But I hope that there is a neighborhood effort to replace that blank wall with something beautiful and amazing.  I am sure there are artists in the neighborhood, and someone could paint something that the community would value and support.

A misplaced mural is the kind of problem a neighborhood can address, and that's what the Chosewood Park Neighborhood Association did.  But it's hard for a neighborhood by itself to do anything about an abandoned industrial site.  The Lakewood GM plant has been closed for more than 20 years.  I know that many of the people who live in the area felt that the mural didn't belong in their neighborhood, but that swath of industrial desolation left by the closed auto plant doesn't belong in anyone's neighborhood.  That's a problem beyond the scale that a neighborhood can address on its own.   What's channel 2 doing to make people aware about that threat to the neighborhood?   Maybe -- until there's something else on that wall -- the neighborhood could use it as a giant whiteboard for brainstorming on what they want on that old GM site, Neighborland-style.  And then I think they should call channel 2.

"A Series of Unfortunate Circumstances"

A message from Lynsley one day last week - the new waffle sandwich place that replaced the burger place that replaced the empty space where Caramba used to be - was closed.  The brown paper is back up over the windows.  The notice that is posted on the door refers to "a series of unfortunate circumstances."

Of course I don't know what the specific "unfortunate circumstances" were but thanks to What Now Atlanta we do know about the trademark issues.  There probably was a way around that (pancakes could be substituted for the waffles, perhaps), but there was no way around this restaurant not being a good match for the neighborhood.

This space is in a small commercial area that already includes other restaurants.  There's Doc Chey's, which is a place to take the kids, but you won't linger over green tea after dinner.  There's Rosebud, where you can have your locally sourced chicken with the heirloom tomato salad, but I at least would not take my children there (although I am sure other families do).  There's the Family Dog, which is a popular bar that serves food, but don't even think about asking for the burger without the sauce.  (There was a review on Yelp complaining about the lack of a children's menu there.  Well, okay.)  There's Alon's, which is busy throughout the day with the morning coffee-and-croissants crowd, the lunchtime soup-and-sandwich crowd, and the after work get-something-so-I-don't-have-to-cook-tonight crowd.  The latter group could also get a casserole from Casseroles.

There also is not much parking.  Even with the small lot in front of Alon's, the small lot adjacent to Rosebud, the big lot in front of Doc Chey's, and the small lot behind the former waffle sandwich place, there is still overflow on busy nights to adjacent residential streets.  Which is fine -- I would rather have that than more parking lots -- but the reality is for all these places to be successful, a lot of people need to walk there, which mean they need to be appealing to people in the neighborhood, and worth walking to.

We used to walk to Caramba, when they were in that location.  Even though we might linger at our table, we almost always had margaritas, and I'm sure the owners made money on our visit.  We'd talk to the people at the next table, or visit with friends or neighbors who were sitting at the bar, or wander to the patio to say hello to someone we hadn't seen a while.  We liked the food, but it wasn't just the food.  It was a place where we participated in the social fabric of our neighborhood, and I'm sorry, you're not going to recreate that with waffle sandwiches.  

Yesterday morning, after a successful launch of a 2-liter soda bottle from a PVC pipe attached to a bicycle pump at Sunken Garden Park, Iain and I walked to Alon's to get some croissants.  The outdoor tables there overlook a parking lot and aren't obviously pleasant places to sit, but they were full.  It was late in the morning and things were winding down at the farmers' market across the street, but people were still walking through and lingering a moment to chat with an acquaintance.  Both of these places, Alon's and the farmers' market, are destinations worth going to on a Saturday morning.  We want to go to places where there are people.  And except for the part about launching the 2-liter soda bottle, it's not rocket science.

On the Beltline after Dark

Saturday night Iain and I joined the Lantern Parade on the Beltline's Eastside Trail.  Tom didn't think he could make the walk because of his ankle, and Sarah was getting together with a friend to watch Dr. Who, so it was just Iain and me.  After we all had dinner at Caramba, Tom dropped Iain and I off at Krog and Irwin.  We had thought we might have trouble finding where we were supposed to be, but it turned out it wasn't difficult at all -- we just joined the large group of people carrying (or in some cases, wearing) different forms of illumination.  There were the two giant illuminated figures that led us on the trail.  

There was a man with paper lantern, made to look like a chicken.

There were lanterns made from lampshades, fabric, and plastic milk jugs.  They were illuminated with flashlights, Christmas tree lights, and candles.   They were carried by young adults, by children, by older people like me, and attached to dogs on leashes.  There were people along most of the route, between Irwin Street and Virginia Avenue, watching from windows, standing alongside the trail, looking down from overpasses.  There was applause and cheering for the Seed & Feed Marching Band, along with the occasional performance along the side among the spectators.  Soon after we left Irwin Street, there was a person who periodically fired off what must have been a flamethrower, and farther on the route a performer high above us on a roof of a building was spinning what looked like an LED-illuminated baton.  There were people in new apartments and in some industrial chic repurposed buildings and on patios of resaurants and bars who came out to watch.  A woman in what I thought was a white evening gown -- possibly a wedding dress -- was doubled over in laughter on a side street.  Videos and photos taken in the darkness; maybe some of them came out better than mine did.

The parade ended at Monroe Drive.  I'm sure lots of parade participants went to the Park Tavern, but Iain and I walked home from there.

It was wonderfully, amazingly fun, walking in the dark with paper lanterns along the Beltline trail, nearly continually disoriented as to exactly where we were, but seeing the city in the dark in a whole new way and from a different vantage point.  Like Atlanta Streets Alive, the event got people to walk somewhere they might not have otherwise, and certainly at a time of day they wouldn't otherwise, and after you've done it once, you're much more likely to do it again (although not necessarily at night, unless it's another lantern parade).  

This weekend was also the opening weekend for Art on the Beltline (the lantern parade was the opening event) , and I hope to get out next weekend to see some of the art work.  Last weekend Caroline and I went out Sunday evening to find and see some of the murals from Living Walls.  I told her I felt like I was on a treasure hunt; I bet Art on the Beltline will be the same experience, not quite knowing where you are going or what to expect, and feeling some sense of accomplishment that you found the work, in addition to the enjoyment of seeing it.

Walking home from the parade, Iain was recapping his favorite moments from the evening.  This is the advantage of living in a city, I told him.  City lights, a friendly crowd of people we didn't know, carrying lanterns through the reclaimed ribbon of land that is the Beltline.  People in other parts of the metro area may want more freeways, but I'm glad I live in a city that is turning old railroad corridors into trails, making its places into places where people want to go.

Adagio for Strings

In retrospect, we should have seen it coming.  It was a clue when, at one of the last concerts last spring, the musicians were out in the corridors, handing out postcards to symphony goers as we were on our way to our seats.  The cards invited us to follow them on Facebook and Twitter.  I and 1,731 other people now "Like" them on Facebook.  Not that it's done them any good -- in a nasty and public dispute with Symphony and Woodward Arts Center management, they are now locked out and their health benefits were ended on August 31.

The Symphony is posting their point of view on Facebook too.  Yesterday they posted an interview ASO President Stanley Romanstein had given to the Atlanta Business Chronicle.  “We are in the same position that the auto industry and the airline industry were in a few years ago. It is time for a restructuring of the industry.”

I cringed when I saw that yesterday.  It seemed so wrong, equating our wonderful symphony orchestra with General Motors, as if it all were about balancing the books.  

But even though it's not just about balancing the books, the fact remains that the books have to be balanced.   Romanstein was interviewed in a long article in today's Atlanta Journal-Constitution, where he "said the ASO can't raise more money through donations until it balances its budget.  Donors have made it clear, he said:  Fix the finances, then talk to us about increasing our support."

There are only 17 orchestras with full-time musicians in the United States, and last week one of them, Indianapolis, announced plans to go downsize to a part-time orchestra.  The AJC this morning listed 5 other American symphony orchestras with serious financial problems.  In 2010, the Honolulu Symphony was dissolved in bankruptcy proceedings.  In 2011 the Philadelphia Orchestra filed for bankruptcy protection under Chapter 11, and the Syracuse Symphony filed under Chapter 7.  The Detroit Symphony Orchestra has taken pay cuts, become smaller, and reduced work weeks from 52 to 40.  The story is similar for the Louisville Orchestra, which is down from 71 to 51 permanent players and the season was cut from 37 weeks to 30.

I lived in Nashville in 1988 when the symphony declared bankruptcy.  I remember listening to Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings in the old performing arts center, at the benefit concert the musicians held after the bankruptcy.  As I understand it, bankruptcy isn't likely for the ASO, because they aren't an independent entity, as far as the books are concerned; they are part of Woodruff Arts Center, and in spite of the orchestra's $20 million deficit, the Arts Center isn't bankrupt.

But the Arts Center is demanding that the budget be balanced.  According to the AJC, Woodruff President Virginia Hepner said that the Arts Center "did not dictate how the ASO was to balance its budget.  'At the end of the day, all we have said is, "This is where we need to get to.  Let me know how you're going to get there."'"

Every time I hear the Adagio for Strings I remember how I felt that night, worried about the musicians, the symphony, the city.  But  the Nashville Symphony did survive.  They emerged from bankruptcy in 1995 and in 2006 they moved into a new concert hall.  I think the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra will survive this, too, but it's not going to get sorted out on Facebook.

Road Work Ahead

I thought the orange "Road Work Ahead" signs were for the new four-way stop at North Morningside and Cumberland.  Then they showed up with the orange barrels and the port-a-potty and closed the section of the street where North Morningside transforms itself into East Morningside and bypasses the intersection of East Rock Springs and North Pelham.  It looks like something serious is underway, but it's not at all obvious exactly what.

It is obvious though that forcing all the eastbound traffic on East Morningside through the 4-way stop at East Morningside/North Pelham/East Rock Springs produces a massive traffic backup, at least at 7 p.m.

It turns out that this work -- the new 4-way stop at North Morningside and Cumberland and the construction work now at the junction of North Morningside and East Morningside -- are funded through a grant program intended to make walking safer to school.   The plan, according the the Safe Routes to School plan, is to close the lane connecting North Morningside to East Morningside.  It's not clear what else is envisioned, since the diagram that is noted is not included (or I couldn't find it) in the pdf that is on line.

I'm all for pedestrian safety, and crosswalks and slowing traffic are an important tools to improve safety.  But no data were included in the plan on actual traffic volumes through these intersections.  I hope that whatever they end up doing works better than what they have right now.  Cars were backed up, toward Piedmont, as far as I could see at 7 p.m. this evening, when I took the picture above, and Tom said it was that way at 5 p.m., too.   It may be that the plan is to put a traffic light at the intersection -- that's what the budget for the project would suggest -- and rely on drivers re-routing to avoid the area.

For the impatient drivers in the neighborhood, that four-way stop at North Morningside and Cumberland may be the least of their problems.

Stopping on North Morningside

One day last week stop signs appeared on North Morningside Drive, at the intersection with Cumberland Road.  There already were stop signs on Cumberland, so with the addition of the signs on Morningside, it was a four-way stop, even though there was no signage (yet) to indicate that.  The neighborhood email lists made note of the new signs and the city tried to get drivers' attention with orange "road work ahead" signs on Cumberland, but it probably still will take a few weeks for drivers to get used to having the stop signs there.

A year or so ago the city put four-way stops at East Rock Springs and North Morningside and at East Morningside and Rock Spring Road.  Although it made the merge from North Morningside to East Morningside more difficult, it was easy to avoid it by a change in route.  (But that meant I went straight on Pelham, and one morning soon after I changed my route I almost ran the stop sign at Pelham and Pine Ridge; it wasn't my usual route, yet, and I wasn't looking for a stop sign there.)  Those four-way stops did slow down the traffic, and I don't see people run the stop signs often, so I'm optimistic that the new signs at Morningside and Cumberland will do the same.  It will be much safer for pedestrians crossing Morningside.

It's distressing to see the complaints about this on the neighborhood email lists, that if the problem is speeding, enforce the speed limits, but that the priority should be for motorists to get where they want to go as soon as possible, that the four-way stop will create a "totally unnecessary back up" during morning and evening rush hours.  The people out walking their dogs or pushing their toddler in a stroller or riding their bikes -- well, they should just stay out of the way, I guess, because God forbid that a driver have to stop at a stop sign.

I just read The Great Neighborhood Book, which has an entire section on traffic, which is to say on the adverse impact speeding cars have on neighborhoods.  "For 80 years, traffic engineers have been trained to see their job as moving cars through cities as rapidly as possible with a minimum of inconvenience.  Little thought was given to how pedestrians, kids at play, and entire neighborhoods were inconvenienced and even terrorized by roaring traffic."  Yes.  Exactly.  

Now, if we could just get a crosswalk at Wessyngton and Cumberland....