THE MOAB MAIN STREET PHOTO PROJECT (see page 16)
I am nothing if not sentimental and, of course, at this time of the year when the days are short and the nights are cold and the skies are the color of faded cement, I can’t help but feel nostalgic for the ‘good old days.’ Moab was such a quiet and remote place to spend winters then. And yet many of us fled whenever we got the chance. This might surprise some of you but some aspects of the good old days were downright awful. For example, when winter inversions struck Moab in the 70s and 80s, the valley filled with dense smoke and fumes from Atlas Minerals and a plethora of wood stoves. In fact, driving into town from Arches in the late 70s, it was possible to identify the unique acrid Atlas smell with its harsh chemical odor, until somewhere near the Doxol gas plant and the Sundowner (now Buck’s Grill), the smoke smell shifted from Atlas to the more fragrant pinyon and juniper smoke from woodburning stoves.
Thank god, I’d sigh. Even if I was still breathing bad air, I figured it smelled better.
Twenty years later and I’d have to say that if there is one positive change in the Moab Valley, it’s the end of, or at least a serious reduction in the amount of toxic fumes its residents must endure. If any of you want to complain about recent inversions, well...you have no idea what foul air really is.
And of course, Moab has changed drastically in almost every way that I can imagine. You know me...I’ve been complaining about ‘change’ and ‘growth & development’ since the first issue of this old rag of mine...it’s what I do, you know? But sometimes I don’t think many of you newcomers really know just how much this town has changed in the last decade or so. I’m always stunned by the number of Moab residents who have never heard of the big toxic waste incinerator vote, or great politicians from Grand County’s past like Ray Tibbets or Jimmie Walker. Or even Tom Stocks. Memorable characters, all of them. Didn’t agree with them much of the time, but I enjoyed them immensely.
Last summer I got a letter from a relatively new resident, who wanted to engage me in a discussion about Moab’s future. In part he wrote:
"Many of us would love to freeze the Moab environs, or even roll things back to some imaginary "good old days" when people and their artifacts were less in evidence. But such a no-growth sentiment ignores some harsh realities in our midst. Moab clearly does need an economic boost. The kind of boost that will do the greatest good for the greatest number of Moabites comes from visitors who spend their money and leave."
He conceded that he hadn’t really been in Moab long enough to argue with me and I wasn’t inclined to argue anyway–I only allow myself to argue nine days a month nowadays and I’d used up my quota. But I did save his email and later gave it some thought. And it led me to the "Moab Main Street Photo Project." He referred to the ‘good old days’ as an ‘imaginary’ place...a figment of my sentimentalist heart and soul. Other than the smoke, the good old days was a really great time in a real place and it was here and it looked very different from the way things are now. But how could I quantify the changes?
With my trusty camera of course. I decided to demonstrate what’s changed in Moab since I started The Zephyr in 1989. I could hardly photograph every new construction in the entire county or even in the Moab Valley. I needed a yardstick and Main Street was the obvious choice. I decided to drive out to the Colorado River bridge and work my way into town, to Main Street’s junction with 400 East and photograph all the "new" construction I could find.
I decided to establish some ground rules. First, I would NOT photograph re-modeled structures, even extensive expansions in existing businesses. I limited my photography to new businesses that either built on open space or demolished the old structure completely and built something new. I did NOT include new businesses that occupied old buildings, even when they seriously re-modeled. The structure. So, for example, the new Boomers’s market (or whatever it’s called now) is not included because it replaced the old Miller’s grocery
Second, and THIS IS IMPORTANT--- I’m not suggesting that all these new buildings are a bad thing. Just this morning I had my oil changed at the Quaker State place and I bought an air filter at Clark’s Auto Parts. I’m glad they’re there. But to understand the upheaval this town has experienced in the last 15 years, you need to really take a look at how much has physically changed. Going back to my conversation with the new Moabite, he wrote that we need, "the kind of boost that will do the greatest good for the greatest number of Moabites." And that, he concluded, "comes from people who spend their money and then leave."
If you look closely at the photos, most of the businesses are constructed for just that purpose. So when you accuse us ‘oldtimers’ of being ‘anti-growth,’ just consider how much ‘growth’ we’ve already endured. The photo collage can be found on pages 16 and 17...
WHAT I STILL LIKE ABOUT MOAB (update)
About five years ago, I shocked the community when I wrote a little editorial called, "Top 10 Things I Still Like about Moab." Now in 2005, I wondered how many of my Top 10 would still hold up under a full frontal 21st Century assault by the world. Here’s what I came up with–first the original Top 10, then the update---
1) No Rush Limbaugh. This may be one of the few population centers in the United States where it's just about impossible to pick up the Great One's daily dose of vitriol. The nearest station broadcasting Rush is KUTA in Blanding. But it's a small station with not a lot of transmitting oomph and the signal fades somewhere around Church Rock. Grand Junction carries Limbaugh too, but it doesn't penetrate our valley very well during the daytime hours.
UPDATE: The party’s over. Limbaugh can be heard on at least two stations clearly enough to cause me to have homicidal thoughts. That mellifluous voice booms into the Moab Valley on 1100AM in Grand Jct and on 750AM in Price. Masochistic idiots like myself can listen not only to El Rushbo but to all his toadies as well, some of whom really need institutionalization. Actually that’s not correct...they represent the norm and I need to be locked up.
2) No travel time. We are still small enough that calculating travel time to be prudent for an appointment is unnecessary. If the plan is to be somewhere at seven, we can leave at seven and be fashionably late by a couple of minutes. The problem in Moab, of course, is that being fashionably late has not caught on here. Moabites have a tendency...no, an obsession...with being ridiculously late.
UPDATE: I think it’s fair to say that Moab is still a town where travel time does not need to be factored most of the time, but beware April and May, when The Hordes descend upon us. Just crossing Main Street can waste your allotted travel time. Better plan on just leaving town during the Safari/Spring Break/Slaughter...
3) Street visitations. If this privilege of a small town is ever taken away, then I will be forced to accept it's the end of civilization as we know it. You're driving down the street (any street but Main, that is) and you see a friend of yours coming in the other direction. Maybe you need to tell him something that can't wait, or maybe you just haven't visited in a long time. So you stop in the middle of the street, driver window to driver window, and pause for a chat.
A couple of weeks ago, Richard Cook flagged me down on Center Street, across from the ball park. We must have talked for 15 minutes and in that time, at least a dozen cars went around us. Not once did any one of them honk their horn. Not once did anybody even scowl. It's what we do here. Nobody complains because next week, it just might be them holding an impromptu meeting along the center line of Third South.
UPDATE: DANGER! DANGER!!!! A few weeks ago, I was standing in my yard, pulling weeds, and a friend of mine drove by that I hadn’t seen in a while. He stopped in the middle of the street and I walked out to chat. It wasn’t even two cars...just one vehicle and a pedestrian for godsakes. We had not been jabbering for more than a minute or two when I felt a strange alien presence. I glanced back to see two very stylish yupstermobiles with pinch-faced drivers glowering from behind the wheel. The looked dumbfounded and so did I. I didn’t even feel inclined to wave them around us. Come on fellas, if you can’t figure this one out, you shouldn’t be leaving home without a nanny in the first
place. Finally, a third car pulled up. It was my old pal the Coondog...Kathy Cooney. Coondog knew the rules, broke out of the line and pulled up next to us. "What’s the deal with these fatheads?" she said. "Don’t they know this is what we do?" I can’t recall if they ever figured it out.
4) Natalie Dickerson. Natalie is the best. Now it's true, Natalie does seem otherworldly at times, in a transcendental sort of way. But she is so flawlessly and genuinely cheerful (and genuinely unique), she even makes me feel better. Natalie works at the State Liquor Store and I've been drinking more lately, just on the chance that she will be there. Recently, I've been showing up during Natalie's lunch hour or something and have missed her golden presence. The booze made me happy anyway, but it wasn't the same. In any case, I believe Natalie Dickerson should be Moab's Ambassador of Good Will...
UPDATE: More bad news...Natalie retired from the State Liquor Store a couple years ago and now my only hope now is to catch Natalie at the post office...a Black day for Moab when Natalie left...
5) Nik Hougan. What else can I say about Nik? There he is, the battered sombrero, the sandy beard flowing in the breeze as he peddles up Main Street on a hammered old bicycle, his trusty dog alongside. Somewhere there is a touch of continuity between Old Moab and New, and it's called Nik Hougan.
UPDATE: Nik’s still here. Nik will always be here. Nik will outlive us all. Long live Nik.
6) Running yellow/red lights on Main St. For years I complained about 18-wheeled trucks blowing yellow/red lights on Main Street. I wrote nasty editorials, harassed the police chief, and burned red in the face, every time I saw it happen again. Then I noticed that most of the tourists were doing the same thing. And finally I decided, what the hell, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. So now I love the thrill and excitement of racing through the changing lights as much as the next guy. I've had a close call, here and there, but mostly it's turned an otherwise calm and boring drive through downtown into a little adventure. And isn't that what we all need, really? Something unplanned? And you can be fairly sure that no cop will be around to cite you for the violation.
Remember: Red light: STOP. Green light: GO. yellow light: GO VERY FAST.
UPDATE: Well, the old police chief is gone and the new guy seems like a pretty good fellow most of the time, but I don’t really know if they’ve tightened up enforcement on Main St...I don’t think they need to. The traffic is so much heavier than it was just a few years ago, opportunities to drive like a bat out of hell are few and far between.
7) Post Office people don't seem real postal. Ok, so maybe Pat has given you that, 'You know, you may be the dumbest human being on the face of the earth' look, but ask yourself, didn't you really deserve it? I mean, really, what would you do if people asked questions like, "Have you posted tomorrow's mail yet?" and you had to answer, "No. We won't be doing that until tomorrow." And they asked you that kind of question, over and over again? That's why, by comparison, we locals look pretty good to the postal staff.
UPDATE: Well, Pat’s retired and I haven’t heard of any major incidents. Jay’s sardonic wit keeps things interesting but never out of control. You’re still safe at the PO.
8) Locals discount. Now this is a tough one. On the one hand, there is almost something delightfully evil about saying, "Uh...excuse me, but I'm a local...I get the discount," fully aware that the guy from Alameda, in the polyester jump suit next to me, is going to pay 10% more for the same meal. Shame on me. In my defense, living in a tourist town can get awfully trying at times. We locals live in a town full of strangers from mid-March to November. So the locals discount reminds us that we are still remembered. On the other hand, if I were a tourist, I think I'd be steamed. Maybe we should consider a discreet locals discount.
UPDATE: I don’t think the policy has changed, but there are so many new people that no one knows for sure just who IS a local? If you ask and they’re NOT, you’re screwed. So I suspect many locals don’t get the discount because either the employee is new and doesn’t know the old locals. Or the employee is old and doesn’t know all the new locals.
9) We don't live under a Blade Runner night sky. Our night sky isn't orange; it's still black. Instead of having to travel 50 miles to see Hale Bopp, all we had to do was step out the back door. Not bad.
UPDATE: Still hanging in there but with every new convenience store and subdivision, the odds of seeing a night sky diminish.
10) It's still safe to walk the streets at night. Yes, I feel confident that I can walk any Moab sidewalk without the threat of harassment or intimidation by women. If I want to be harassed or intimidated by women, I just go down to Eklectica. The women down there are professionals. And I like it.
UPDATE: All these years later, I still LOVE to be harassed by all the lovely women at Eklectica. It’s the highlight of my week.
So it looks like we’re down a couple...maybe I should add a few new ones. Like..
* The rascal or rascals out there who keep adding political commentary (some people call it graffiti) to the stucco wall adjacent to the east side, non-functioning tram. It’s always good to see that Moab has some activist spirit left.
* And speaking of activist spirit, the guy who pulls the trailer with all the anti-war slogans on it deserves some sort of recognition...so let’s make him or her a member of the Top 10.
* And finally, I nominate long time Moab resident Tom Wesson as one of the Top 10 things I still like about Moab. Tom and I have come a long way in 20 years. It was only in recent times that I’ve come to appreciate Wesson’s highly tuned intuition (he sees through bullshit faster than Superman). He may be a screw-off like me when Times are easy. But in a crisis, the Dude is there.
GROWTH UPDATE? A FLASHBACK...
Our old pal, County Councilman T Rex Tanner was at it again lately. He was having a rant at a Search & Rescue Banquet about recent real estate acquisitions by my personal hero, Jennifer Speers. As many of you know, Jennifer purchased the Dewey Bridge subdivision last year and restored the property to its original condition. Including tearing down a $600,000 home.
The Rexmeister says this is bad for Grand County because it reduces our tax base; the land was rightfully re-zoned agricultural after the Restoration. It reminded me of a rant of my own, an editorial from about ten years ago. Here’s part of it...
While 1995 property tax notices went out this month, here's a sampling of what's boomed on Main Street in the last year. Starting on the north end of town, we've seen the opening or current construction of: Butch Cassidy's Waterpark, Denny's (Home of the 'Grand Slam Breakfast') Restaurant, a Rodeway Inn, Wendy's Old Fashioned Hamburgers, Arby's Roast Beef('Different is Better'), and the Dairy Queen ('Scrumpdelicious!'). Coming soon: a 'Hogie-Yogie' (whatever that is) in the building long occupied by the Frosty Freeze, and somewhere, someday...Colonel Sanders himself.
These nationally franchised restaurants and motels are, as we all know, only the latest entries on the Main Street strip, an area that used to be the heart of our community, but which now serves as a gateway of sorts for the millions of tourists that pour into Moab each year.
It has only been since 1990, when McDonald's broke the fast food barrier in Moab that all this economic growth has occurred. Those promoting tourist growth felt this could be the answer to Moab's economic woes and offered the promise of a stable future. How many times have we heard this? Economic growth means a bigger tax base! That couldn't be anything but good news, right?
I don't need to tell anyone to take another look at their tax notices...Is anyone seeing a decrease? Is everyone eternally grateful to all these new businesses for easing our tax burden?
Two years ago, the original Grand County Council, in conjunction with the Nature Conservancy, proposed to use federal grant monies to purchase the Mayberry Orchard along the Colorado River. Their hope was to save it from possible development and ultimate destruction. At a public meeting to discuss the plan, I watched one longstanding member of this community after another rise up to condemn the proposal. And the lament was always the same: By not allowing the property to be developed (commercial campground and convenience store, in this case), we were reducing the tax base and increasing the tax burden on the citizens of Grand County. The alleged logic here being, if you increase the tax base, you decrease the individual tax burden.
The Council ultimately secured the land and the Mayberry Orchard was saved. And I would bet that to some, that kind of decision is exactly the reason Grand County property taxes continue to blow holes in the sky.
May God forgive them for their ignorance.
I've said this before, Lance Christie said it succinctly in an article for this newspaper a few months ago, and I am about to say it again...an increased tax base in small rural communities rarely results in a reduced individual tax responsibility. The exact opposite is more likely to occur. This is my mantra. How many times do I have to say it?
An expanded tax base rarely reduces individual tax burdens.
An expanded tax base rarely reduces individual tax burdens.
All anyone has to do to see the reality of the expanded tax base myth is to look at the towns that waged this battle before us. According to the American Farmland Trust, for every dollar paid in property taxes, the average U.S. urban resident uses $1.36 in public services, while the average farm uses only $.21 in similar services. That's a remarkable gap.
Closer to home, in St. George, Utah, according to the Census Bureau, for every dollar generated in tax revenue per housing unit, each house consumed $2.70 in municipal services. Similar comparisons in the Yampa Valley, Colorado and the Madison Valley in Montana produced similar results.
In fact, it's happening all over the west. And that's because we never confront these changes until it's too late. We continue to react rather than act. In Moab, the town is currently in a lather because water and sewer bills are going through the roof. What did anyone expect? Did you think that all these new fast food joints were somehow going to lift a giant financial burden from your shoulders?
Even now, the city could send a clear message to developers: Enough is enough, we don't need anymore. Its moratorium on development north of town didn't go nearly far enough. How about a moratorium on all commercial construction until the town can assess its needs and determine just who would benefit from the next nationally franchised restaurant that came knocking on the building inspector's door?
So...here we are, a decade later. Are Grand County’s leaders any smarter in 2005 than they were in 1995? Do many of them understand the long-term effects of Growth when it starts to adversely affect the quality of people’s lives? Or more important, are any of them willing to do something about it? Clearly, Ol’ T Rex won’t be leading the "Quality of Life" Crusade in the very near future...but who will???
Progress v. Development
Last fall, a local realtor/developer told a writer for Salt Lake City Magazine that I "had a closed mind when it comes to progress." He added that we probably define the word differently, and felt that I picked on him for his pro-development views. And for that reason, I won't even mention the poor fellow by name. But he also said I condemned anybody who didn't wear Birkenstocks and that's where I draw the line. I've never worn Birkenstocks a day of my life...I'm a Redwings kind of guy.
Anyway, I didn't have the energy or the inclination to argue the point at the time. One of my hopes and dreams for the new year has been to develop a thicker skin and to avoid futile debates with entrenched adversaries whenever possible.
But in re-formatting this paper, there is also a sense (for me, at least) of starting over this spring and it seems like a good time to consider the changes in this community, and whether they can really be called progress. There is a difference between Progress and Development, although it's surely a subjective distinction. I can only speak for myself, but this is how I separate Progress from Development...
When I think of Progress and what it means for this town and its surroundings, I think of a community in which its citizens can earn a decent living, pay the bills, and have something left over at the end of the month. But I can call it Progress only when those citizens also realize the value of the intangible qualities that make our town unique and enrich our lives.
Qualities like the beauty and solitude of the canyons and mountains that surround us and qualities like the friendship, compassion and trust of our neighbors are, to me, just as important as the bottom line on a financial statement.
Progress is maintaining our small town atmosphere while recognizing that some change is inevitable, and that change can sometimes even be an improvement. Development is when the greed of its citizens allows uncontrolled growth that destroys all the qualities of small town life...the qualities that brought many of us here in the first place.
Progress is when a business flourishes and expands to meet a growing demand, while still maintaining the quality that caused its success in the first place. A good example is Tim and Gretchen Buckingham's move to buy the Sundowner. Their success is due to their talent and their hard work; expanding their business is the reward for their efforts. Development is when an out-of-town investor sees there's money to be made and throws up another fast food franchise, taking business and customers away from the local cafes that have survived for years and years.
Progress is when local citizens try to stay loyal to those well-established restaurants. Development is when locals abandon them in droves for the franchise chains, in order to save a few cents.
Progress is a new business that comes to town and offers a new service or product that we truly need and could not obtain before. Look at La Sal Bread for example...great bread. Development is another T-shirt shop with an absentee owner. I dream of that Progressive day when I can buy a pair of flannel tartan plaid boxer shorts (cotton in summer) in my own home town. The day Boxers R' Us opens, a business that would truly fill a need, I hope to be its first customer.
Progress is suitable housing for all its citizens. Development is another tacky condo development for wealthy out-of-towners looking to invest in a second home and hoping to turn a tidy profit.
Progress is the County Council and the Nature Conservancy saving the Mayberry Orchard. Development is seeing most of Grand County's other orchards turned into subdivisions.
Progress is appreciating the value of the spectacular view we all enjoy of the West Wall each day. Development is a chairlift running up its sandstone flanks.
Progress is our species recognizing the value...the absolute necessity for preserving what's left of our wild pristine country. Development is seeing it bulldozed under. Or perhaps worse, seeing those special places trampled under the feet of hordes of well-meaning people who claim they do recognize the value of wild lands but don't recognize that their sheer numbers are destroying it.
Progress is the mountain biker who gets tired of staring at his knuckles, the bike handlebars, and three feet of ground ahead of him, and stops and looks around, and is overwhelmed by the silence and the beauty of the canyons. Development is painting more white lines on the Slickrock Trail so nobody has to stop and look around.
Progress is appreciating the fading light on the slickrock palisades above the valley. Development is ridgeline housing.
Progress is moving to Moab, wanting to be a part of the community and wanting to contribute something to it. Development is moving to Moab and seeing what can be taken from it.
Progress, in short, is Moab the Community. Development, in a nutshell, is Moab the Population Center. What's the difference? Ten years from now, one way or the other, we'll probably all know the answer.
