Lowell's

A modest proposal to end blight

Comprehensive Care Parking Lot

Every morning when I walk into work at Lowell's, I see 8-foot-tall tree-weeds growing through unkempt hedges and spilling over into the public sidewalk.  I see a planter adjoining our building, burgeoning with weeds and grass and the massive stump of a long-dead tree.  I see a pitted, crumbling parking lot with clogged drainage.

Many customers assume it is our lot.  It does adjoin our building.  And they can't see the sign declaring "Comprehensive Care Center Parking Only".

116 Mechanic Street

Across the street I see a tiny old shotgun house with a gigantic half-rotted tree looming ominously over both the house and the main Lowell's parking lot.  After the ice storm and other storms this spring, downed branches lay in the asphalt front yard of the house.  For over two months.

Absentee owners neglect both properties.  Neighboring businesses have conducted the most of the maintenance on the properties over the past couple of years.  In effect, they are abandoned.

As a business owner, I worry about the effect it has on Lowell's famously loyal customers.  Even if they cherish us and the service we provide, I'm genuinely concerned about the ability of such eyesores to repel visitors to the shop.

I often talk with nearby business owners, who share my concern for the negative effects of these properties on our neighborhood.

* * *

Many folks have wondered why I have been so vocal on the CentrePointe mess.  There are many reasons, but one of the biggest is that the abandoned properties surrounding Lowell's have given me firsthand experience the negative effects of blight like the CentrePointe scar.

There are many such highly-visible, blighted, non-productive and apparently abandoned properties in Lexington: CentrePointe in Downtown, Lexington Mall on Richmond Road, and Continental Inn on New Circle at Winchester are some of the most apparent.  But there are numerous smaller examples littering our city.

Just like the properties surrounding our shop, the absentee owners seek to avoid any and all expenses.  They avoid capital gains taxes by refusing to sell their properties.  They avoid maintenance expenses by refusing to invest to make their properties economic contributors to the community.  They avoid property taxes by refusing to improve their decrepit real estate.

Such abandoned properties generate near-zero direct contributions to the economy.  Moreover, they generate negative economic effects for surrounding properties and businesses: They drive away business and drive down property values.

* * *

It is time for such neglect to end.  It is time to make sure that lazy landowners are motivated 1) to improve their holdings and 2) to transform their properties into contributors to our community's economic engine.

My modest proposal: Implement a 'blight tax'.  Lexington landownders whose property qualifies as 'blighted' would have to pay a moderately severe annual blight tax.

The definition of 'blighted' would need to be worked out, but should include an assessment of the property condition, as well as proof of substantial progress on needed improvements.  We could start with Division of Code Enforcement standards.

To overcome their avoidance of maintenance expenses, property taxes, and/or capital gains taxes, I'd propose that the blight tax have some teeth: Say, 35% to 50% of assessed property value per year.

In the CentrePointe case, the blight tax would generate $8 to $12 million per year of revenue to the city until the developers improve their land.  When historical buildings were demolished to make way for CentrePointe, many rationalized that the old buildings were greater eyesores than the pit which remains today.  I disagree.  But a blight tax may also have helped prevent the demolition-by-neglect which occurred on that block over the years.

I would imagine the former Lexington Mall and Continental Inn properties would generate amounts similar to CentrePointe, given their sizes and their locations on busy thoroughfares.

Such tax revenue could be specifically allocated to offsetting the effects of blight: community improvements to sidewalks, bike paths, streetscapes, parks, community centers, business incubators, community ventures, and the like.  If property owners avoid the blight tax by making their properties more valuable (i.e., by improving them), then all the better.

To create a vibrant city, we need to ensure that Lexington doesn't have the economic scars that blight leaves behind: dead spots which contribute little (or which actually destroy) monetary value in our community.

My proposal is the blight tax.  What's yours?

Homesick

An open letter to Lexington's leaders from the next generation
by Carson Morris

"How do we build a city the next generation will be homesick for?"
                                                        - Rebecca Ryan (via Tom Eblen)

Dear Leaders of Lexington,

  Carson Morris, Superstar

As you return to Lexington from your trip to Madison, Wisconsin, flush with ideas and possibility in the wake of your visit, I wanted to let you know that we stand ready to help make Lexington better. 

While 260 of you were experiencing Madison directly, several hundred of us were following your visit in near-real-time, thanks to those few of you who shared the event using Twitter.  And while you were talking with Madison, we were actively talking about you, Madison, Lexington, and our future.  We had a vibrant discussion.

And when I saw Rebecca Ryan's question, I hoped that you really took it to heart.  Because it means everything when I decide whether to stay in Lexington or not.  And it should inform every decision you make about our city: How do you build a city I will be homesick for?

Making me and my generation homesick won't really be about "stuff" and status.  I know many of you were talking about tangible things - jobs, industries, neighborhoods, amenities, buildings, bike trails.  But that isn't really what we value.  Those things don't really make us want to stay here.  Making UK a top 20 research institution?  That may be great for attracting companies to Lexington, but I don't see how that keeps me here.

If you want me to be homesick, you'll have to connect with my heart.  Then, when I leave, Lexington will tug on my heart.  It will call to me.  Lexington will be the one place on earth I want to be. 

How do you create a Lexington for my generation?  How do you make us homesick for Lexington?  As you settle back into your regular routines, I wanted to help you set an agenda to implement the lessons of Madison for me and my generation.  Here are a few of my ideas.  I'm sure my friends will have many more:

Listen to us.  For years, we've listened as you tell us what our generation wants and needs.  And then we leave town to go to school or to find a job.  And those other places seem built for us, so we never come back.

Too many times, your tuners are set to "broadcast" instead of "receive".  As leaders, you are used to being listened to.  We understand that.  But I and my generation need to be heard.  And we need to know that you hear us.

The Madison experience was a great case in point.  For months now, our generation has been urging you to adopt Twitter (and other social media platforms) to talk with us.  In Madison, a few of you suddenly began using Twitter.  While we appreciate your new openness, we also wonder why you didn't grant us the same credibility as those you talked with in Madison.

If you want us to stay, you must listen to us more.

 
Engage us.  At one point yesterday, Mayor Newberry declared that "I don't think there has been a time in Lexington's history where we've had the level of civic engagement we have now... Lexington needs your engagement in our community now."

This is a profound and true statement from our mayor.  We do need your engagement (including you, Mr. Mayor). Now. 

We're already having conversations about the future of our city.  We're already saying what matters to us.  We're already talking about leaving. 

In order to engage us, don't wait for us to find you: you need to come to where we are and join our ongoing conversations.  Follow us on Twitter.  Spend time in our schools.  Read and comment on our blogs.  Share your thoughts and what you think about ours.  Debate with us.  Ask us what you can do.  Then do it.  Build on our ideas.  (P.S. We have a LOT of ideas.)

If you want us to stay, you must engage us more.


Value us.  As community leaders, you have so many opportunities to keep us in Lexington.  One of the biggest: demonstrate how much you value our talent and our intellect and our creativity. 

When I get to high school, hire me as a summer intern.  Let me work on special and important projects.  Encourage me to engage my friends in the efforts to grow your organizations. 

While I'm in college, toss me the keys and give me the opportunity to create something you might never imagine.  Will I stumble?  Absolutely.  Could you lose money?  Possibly.  But - if I'm successful - we both will profit.  And, either way, knowing that you value me will make me incredibly loyal - to you and to our city.

When I graduate and get a job, ask me what kind of places I want to live in.  What I want to do after hours.  What kind of neighborhood I want.  What is important to me.  Then - and this is the vital part - go build it for me.  It will benefit us both.

(P.S. Also do these things for your current generation of citizens and employees.  Then stand back.  Your success will blow you away.  It might keep some of the current generation in Lexington, too.)

If you want us to stay, you must value us more.


Respect us.  Listening.  Engaging.  Valuing.  It is all about showing fundamental human respect for us and our viewpoints.  If you demonstrate that kind of respect in your actions and in your attitudes, several wonderful things will begin to happen.

First, the right kinds of "stuff" - jobs, buildings, neighborhoods, amenities - will begin to emerge to tug on our hearts.  Our community - and our love for our community - will become much more vibrant.

Second, our economy will begin to flourish.  Giving us a platform to express and implement our ideas will help create the idea-rich economy that you learned about in Madison.  Having our voices and views incorporated into the community's future gives us a stake in making that future happen.

Third, our brand will improve.  As Daddy has mentioned previously, you don't get to decide our brand.  Blue horses or spotted yaks are irrelevant to whether I choose to love my city and to whether I choose to stay in Lexington.  A better brand emerges from being a better city.  And that starts with respecting your citizens and employees.

If you want to build a better Lexington - the kind of Lexington you are envisioning upon your return from Madison - you must listen to us.  You must engage us.  You must value us.  You must openly and actively demonstrate your respect for us. 

Then, you will have built a city that my generation will be homesick for.  That could be your legacy.  We're already here.  And we want to engage you.  We want to help you succeed.  Join us.

Thanks,
Carson

Carson Tate Morris
2 years, 5 months old
Citizen, Future Voter, and Superstar

Unfortunately. Private.

There were two common refrains at Tuesday's Urban County Council confrontation between our vice mayor and the developers of CentrePointe. 

One was the word "Unfortunately" continuously invoked by the developers.  While "unfortunately" led some 6 sentences in the developers' prepared statement, it also led nearly every response from the developers to difficult questions from the Council.  Unfortunately, the developers didn't foresee the economic downturn.  Unfortunately, things change in projects like these.  Unfortunately, bloggers and the press and rumor-mongers have pointed out immense and inconvenient flaws in our business case.  Unfortunately, it is apparently their free-speech right to do so.  Unfortunately, people die.

Well, um, unfortunately, REAL businesspeople are supposed to anticipate and overcome such circumstances (not be paralyzed by them).  Anything less amounts to sheer speculation.  Which is what Lexington has encountered with CentrePointe.

The second refrain was actually more worrisome and more puzzling.  It came from members of the Council who acted as apologists for the developers (developers whose actions can only be characterized as bumbling).  These same councilmembers - Lane, Stinnett, Myers, McChord, and Beard - felt compelled to offer apologies for forcing the developers to account for their continuous inaction.

The refrain they used was "private".  Councilmember Myers asserted that this is private property assembled by private developers with private funds, that the developers could do whatever they wish with it, and that the council had no business forcing CentrePointe's developers to explain their incompetence.

Balderdash.

Before more libertarian readers resort to labeling me a socialist, let me assert my firm belief in property rights.  Unlike some of my more radical friends, I believe that property and capital and money have driven the vast majority of improvements in our living conditions and overall social well-being.  To be sure (and as we have seen quite clearly of late), capitalism often has an ugly downside driven by unrestrained greed.  But the long term gains have far outweighed that downside.

The crater created by CenterPointe's developers is certainly private property.  It belongs to them. 

But here's where the stalwart defenders of property rights are wrong: Private property always comes with civic responsibility.  Owners of private property cannot use their property in ways which destroy value for surrounding properties or surrounding businesses.

Let me illustrate this principle with a recent and vivid example:  A year and a half ago, in the Andover neighborhood, there was a private home that was infested with rats.  The community and the Health Department mobilized to eradicate the rats and eradicate the problem.  Nearby property owners (including yours truly) were rightly concerned for both our safety and our property values. 

Apparently, these same councilmembers would claim that the rat-infested house was private property, and, thus, the community had no right to defend their health or their property values.  Would councilmember Myers sit on his hands if a rat-infested house was next door to his house?  Apparently so.  Would councilmember Lane approve of a neighbor's right to spread pig manure (and noxious fumes) to fertilize their lawn in his Hartland Gardens?  Apparently so.  After all, it is their property, and they can do what they wish with it.  Right?

Of course not.  Private property comes with civic responsibility. 

* * *

With CentrePointe, we have a rathole downtown.  The rats, while not physical, are more insidious and more destructive:

• There's the bulldozer rat that razed buildings, jobs, businesses, and revenue last July.  The rathole has produced no jobs, no revenue, no businesses, and no buildings.
• There's the ugly-city rat that an out-of-town visitor takes back to their home as tourism dollars and tourists mysteriously disappear from downtown.  I suspect there will be many of this breed of rats available for the World Equestrian Games next year.
• There's the blight rat which drains surrounding property values and sucks patrons out of surrounding businesses.  
• And, finally, there's the developer rat, who repeatedly fails to deliver on public statements about CentrePointe's timing, funding, and business model. 

Councilmembers Stinnett, McChord, Myers, Lane, and Beard appear to sympathize with both the rats and with the rathole.

I do not.  And I don't appreciate our representatives who do.  And I'm not alone.

Private property comes with civic responsibility.  We need leaders who recognize that fact.

I choose both

"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise."
                                                -- F. Scott Fitzgerald (via Ace Weekly)

"You must be the change you wish to see in the world."
                                                -- Mohandas K. Gandhi

There is a revolution brewing in Lexington.  Fed up with the intransigence and bureaucracy of 'old' Lexington, 'new' Lexingtonians are gearing up for an overthrow of the old regime.

As a lifelong rebel and iconoclast, I love it.  As a business owner, I want the more vibrant Lexington (and downtown) that these changes promise.  As a father of a two-year-old, I want my son to have the greatest opportunities to learn, live, play, and work - and want his birthplace to provide those opportunities.  Lexington must change, or it will not grow.  If it does not grow, Lexington will wither and die.

Still, I'm a bit troubled...

More on why in a bit.  First, we need to describe the new and old Lexingtons.  (Or, if you Twitter - and you should - #OldLex and #NewLex.) 

OldLex is rooted in our city's and our region's traditions.  It wants to build on the heritage of our horse farms, our coal, our bourbon, our tobacco, and our basketball.  It values formality and processes and order and control, and is often obstinate in the face of change.  OldLex tends to respect big international companies, large events, and wealth.  It generally shuns technology. 

NewLex is borne of our city's innovative and intellectual potential.  It yearns to be free of restrictions and limitations imposed by centuries of tradition.  It values innovation and creativity and transparency and freedom, and usually gleefully wallows in the messiness and chaos of change.  NewLex tends to respect speed, intellect, local-ness, and the environment.  It embraces technology.

So there, in admitted caricature, are the two cultures of Lexington.  They currently stand in perplexed opposition to one another.  They blink in bewilderment at the other's actions (or inactions) and question the other's motives.

I am a confirmed NewLex kinda guy.  As a reader of this blog, I suspect that you also lean toward the NewLex camp.

But, as I mentioned, I'm troubled by something in the conflict between NewLex and OldLex.  I also hear the same concern echoed in comments on my blog and in NewLex Twitter discussions.  In summary, it is this: The desire for continuity is almost as strong as the desire for change.

While we decry the adoption of outdated icons of horses as the central identity our city, we still love the beautiful horses, the farms, the racetracks, and the uniqueness they bestow upon our city and state.  

We wish that some of the $36.5 million that just went to our new basketball coach had gone instead to improve our schools or our university.  But we do love our 'Cats, our Coach Cal, and our championships. 

We cannot fathom why our city's representatives haven't adopted more transparent practices and implemented more current technologies, but what, really, have we done to facilitate that?  (Have I already forgotten how mystifying Twitter was just a couple of months ago?)

As much as we advocate overturning the old ways of thinking and the old ways of doing things, we NewLexers sure like a lot of the old things.

And we should like them.  The horses, the basketball, and the bourbon are all significant and important parts of our heritage and our identity.  They are a part of what makes us 'US'. 

And in that heritage lies our one bond with our OldLex foes, and, I believe, our single best opportunity to effect real and necessary change in our city.  As NewLexers, we must challenge ourselves to embrace and leverage our past as a springboard into our future.  

Can a vibrant horse industry exist alongside an even-more-vibrant Eds-and-Meds economy?  I think so.

Can we use Lexington's defunct distilling industry and empty warehouses to build a vibrant arts and cultural (and distilling!) community?  I think so.

OldLex certainly comes with many flaws.  But, if we're honest with ourselves, NewLex can be just as problematic.  We often come off as brash and abrasive.  I kinda like being brash and abrasive.  The problem is that 'brash and abrasive' doesn't get the hard work of changing our city done; It brings such work to a halt as OldLex digs in their heels.  

NewLex often appears impractical.  We are full of plans and ideas, but frequently come up way short on tangible actions and, ultimately, results.  We must learn to transform our ideas and plans into actions on the ground.  We must, in short, be the change we wish to see in the world.

So I make a declaration that may not be popular with all of my NewLex compatriots: I choose both.  I choose the heritage that makes Lexington great.  I choose the creativity and intellect that will drive us into the future.  I choose to act with transparency and speed.  I choose to love the singular beauty of our horse farms.  I choose to reject the parts of (Old AND New) Lexington which hold our city back from becoming truly great.  NewLex?  OldLex?

I choose both.  I choose Lexington.

April in Review

April has been a busy month in the shop and on the blog.  Here's a sample of what we've been writing about this month:

• Lowell's School Tools and the Bluegrass Vehicle Report.  We provided data about the vehicles we drive in Lexington and surrounding areas, as well as tools for parents and teachers to use to make the data come to life for their students.
• Why CentrePointe will fail.  Our all-time most popular post analyzes why Lexington's CentrePointe project is doomed even if it is built.  (Also published in Ace Weekly)
• But it isn't enough to simply grouse about the failure of CentrePointe.  We need to understand what went wrong, what to do about it, and what to do with the empty block downtown.  We need a plan.  Toward that end, we offer The UnTower Manifesto as a starting point for moving beyond CentrePointe. (Portions cross-posted to Ace Weekly and Barefoot & Progressive)
• We weren't always serious in April.  We speculated on the real source of the Toyota truck logo.
• What do you hate about Lowell's?  We ask you what you don't like about Lowell's.  We want to be better. 
• Why Twitter matters.  Twitter has become something of an online sensation of late, with everyone from Oprah to the White House jumping on the Twitter bandwagon.  We talk about how to make it work, and why Twitter is more important than it may seem.
• A better brand for Lexington.  We talk about what it will take to truly re-brand Lexington.  Hint: It doesn't involve a blue horse or Pentagram.  (Also published in Ace Weekly, and cross-posted to Transform Lexington)

Many thanks to our friends at Ace Weekly, Transform Lexington, and Barefoot & Progressive for amplifying much of what we wrote here this month.

Enjoy!