Walk-In Closets

Walk-in closets are like the cul du sac of home architecture: temporarily popular, but ultimately a huge waste of space.

People should probably just stop hoarding so much stuff that they (think they) need a walk-in closet, but even if that doesn't happen there are so many better, more versatile ways to store things. Like an armoire, for example.

I would bet money that in not very long, walk-in closets will be way out of vogue, much as city planners now look down on the surreal tract housing neighborhoods that produced the American cul du sacs. For now at least, walk-in closets seem to be a still-popular vestige of the ignominious McMansion.

If I ever remodel my home, I'm not only going to avoid installing walk-in closets, I'm going to rip out the existing small closets. I will only use armoires, and my house will be all the better for it.

Why Keep Debating (Things Like the Provo Tabernacle)?

In the time since my last post and piece in the newspaper, I've had some great conversations with people both who disagree and agree with me. But one response that I've encountered repeatedly — and it's a response that really bugs me — is the one that seeks to end the conversation.

More specifically, I'm talking about people who say "whatever our feelings on the issue, the decision is made so let's move on and talk about other things." I've seen this response again and again with respect to the tabernacle/temple issue, and I've encountered it generally in discussions about a wide array of questions.

I have some basic and fundamental issues with this argument. Most basically, I enjoy debate and think it's healthy for the mind; people who can't rhetorically defend their positions should grow up and learn to assert themselves.

More generally, I also think that cutting off debate once authority figures make a decision sets a dangerous precedent. Leaders — political, religious, civic, etc. — sometimes make mistakes and confronting them with hard questions is an important check. Modern movements like the Tea Party and the Occupy Wall Street protests operate under this principle, as did most revolutionaries of the past.

But I have an even bigger problem with this argument when it comes to something like the Provo Tabernacle. To begin with, there was never a public debate about the building despite it's clear function as a public (if privately owned) resource. Even if the LDS church had a right to do with the building as they pleased, the public has the right to weigh the pros and cons of the final decision. (This was something I basically didn't see anyone do. Even if the outcome was a net gain for Provo, every decision has pros and cons. Yet as far as I'm aware, I was the only person who — in my small way — publicly expressed the possibility that turning the building into a temple would have negative repercussions as well as positive ones. I know other people had this opinion, but I didn't see it printed anywhere.)

I think it's also important to have a debate because that debate can influence future decisions. For example, years ago Provo demolished two iconic buildings — the Hotel Roberts and a local catholic church. Some people were outraged and publicly expressed that anger via debate, and I think in the time since the city has gradually become more sensitive to its historic structures.

In other words, debating past decisions influenced the future. I think that if the debate about those past buildings had been even more robust we might have had a more balanced discussion about the fate of the Provo Tabernacle, even if the outcome was the same.

In addition, one specific reason that a debate about the Tabernacle is important is because the church constantly is altering its historic structures, and may revamp the existing Provo Temple in the very near future. It is important that we, as a community, discuss now what we want to do with our architectural heritage in the future. Even if the decision about the Tabernacle is over, the decisions about the Provo temple are not. The church is unlikely to change the facade of the building if the community opposes it, for example, and the elected city officials obviously have a say in what gets approved. (I have heard from reliable sources that the church did, in fact, weigh people's reactions in its decision to turn the Tabernacle into a temple.)

In other words, if we want the LDS church to preserve history (or, I suppose, if we want the church to discard history, as I feel it often does), we need to debate that topic and formulate our opinions now. This principle holds true for most policy decisions that have public ramifications. No single event or decision is completely isolated, and an honest (and spirited) debate will only ever enrich our views, and our community.

Joaquin Neighborhood, Provo

A few years ago I lived in a house on 5^th north in Provo. One of the most marking things that happened during my time in that house was the demolition of the Joaquin School, which was just across the street. It was pretty amazing to see an enormous excavator ripping whole trees out by the roots and knocking down three story walls in a single swipe.

 

As impressive as the destruction was, it was also fairly tragic. Though the Joaquin School itself hadn’t been used for a few years at that time, the very large grassy area around it was used as a park by the community. The property also had numerous large trees surrounding it. Those trees that were too big to simply pull out by the roots were cut down later. Bafflingly, the construction company even cut down the old trees that lined the strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street.

 

As sad as it was to see this parcel of land decimated, the plan was for a construction company to build a new student housing development on it. The housing development was supposed to provide living spaces for a large number of students, and, at least at the time, promised to include some new open grassy areas for people to use.

 

That was in 2006. Now, it’s 2009, and disappointingly the tragedy has been compounded by the fact that in three years the demolition is the only thing that has happened. According to this Daily Herald article, the construction company went into bankruptcy and things got stalled. It’s a familiar story in this recession ravaged world, but it also begs a number  of questions: why, for example, did they go in and destroy everything if they didn’t have the money to begin building? Why did they tear out and cut down trees that weren’t even on the main construction site and wouldn’t have been in the way until serious building began (if ever)? Why has everything that has taken place ended up seemingly like the company has a vendetta against the community and good things in general?

 

In all fairness, the company has done a few things. Since they demonlished a public space they have found enough money to A) erect a chain link fence around the property, B) spray paint “no parking” signs in big red lettering on the (public) sidewalks at certain points around the property, and C) mow down any vegetation that takes root, ensuring that all that remains visible is broken asphalt and dirt. These actions have left the area looking barren and fit for a post-apocalyptic movie shoot. Understandably tall dry grass poses a fire hazard in the summer, and if people were constantly entering the property one of the them could get hurt and sue. Still, the actions of the construction company have left the Joaquin Neighborhood to be characterized more by blight than by beauty.

 

Business and construction are complex things, and I don’t mean to overly simplify the issue (though I know I am), but it is important to consider the fact that while various entities involved have been wrangling the legality of their positions, it’s actual residents of the neighborhood who have paid the real price. It’s also probably safe to say that the parent company, Arrowstar Construction, and its president Wayne Ross, aren’t based in the Joaquin neighborhood. Their interest is profit, and it’s too bad that they behaved like little boys in a school sand box with no foresight. Hopefully they’ll get on the ball, because if I was a property owner in the Joaquin neighborhood each day I’d think more and more about a lawsuit.