Milestone

Today my other blog on Provo, (pro(vo)cation) passed 2,000 views. The growth of the blog seems to be accelerating as well, meaning that generally each week is better than the last. Friday, for example, I had 91 hits. There were weeks back in November and December, shortly after I started the blog, that didn't do that well in seven days (which is too bad since I wrote some of my favorite posts at that time).

Anyway, Provo is really doing great so either check out my blog or another blog/website to find out more. Or, even better, just visit.

New Blog: (pro(vo)cation)

Lately, a lot of my posts have been about Provo. But sometimes, I just feel like posting something unrelated to the city in which I live (or even, something unrelated to anything at all).

As a result, I've decided to start a new blog: (pro(vo)cation). The new blog will only be about Provo. This blog, however, will now be where I post other things, including thoughts on culture, politics, media, or whatever else happens to cross my mind. Enjoy.

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.

Provo Tabernacle

Today (Wednesday) the paper ran this article, in which I argue that turning the Provo Tabernacle into an LDS temple is going to leave a (cultural or spiritual) gap in the city.

But because I want to alienate every last person I know, I thought I'd expand on that article here. Just kidding! Actually, I was limited to 325 words but I had a lot more to say.

In the time since the announcement that the destroyed Tabernacle would be converted to a temple, I've debated the pros and cons of the change numerous times with many different people. And I have to admit, I find the economic arguments in favor of a temple compelling. Many people have tried to convince me that having a temple will increase foot traffic and activity in downtown Provo, thereby bolstering business.

Downtown Provo is struggling, and I'm in favor of anything that boosts the area economically. If having an LDS temple in the area accomplishes that, I'm happy.

My only issue with this argument is that I haven't been able to come up with a single historical precedent to support it. Most LDS temples are in quiet residential areas. Those that are located in commercial areas (and a there are several) generally were built after those areas were thriving. In other words, in all the debates I've had no one has been able to think of a single instance where a temple revitalized a commercial area. Whatever goes into downtown Provo needs to be an engine for economic growth, and I'm unable to think of an example where that happened before.

But there is a first time for everything, and I'm hopeful.

At the same time, I'm still fairly saddened by the decision to change the Tabernacle into a temple. In my article in the paper, I point to post-war Europe as an example of rebuilding after tragedy. My point is that buildings don't have to be particularly old to be true to their historic nature. In other words, a historic building can be one that serves a historic function, or one that symbolizes a historic moment in a community, even if it isn't technically old any more.

I have to admit that my feelings are influenced by a growing resentment of the way I've seen historic structures treated in Utah and by my own church (LDS). In Provo, the beautiful Hotel Roberts was secretly demolished in the middle of the night. Not long after, St. Francis Church was torn down.

Similarly, the LDS Church is currently r̶u̶i̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ remodeling the Ogden Utah Temple, changing it from a relatively unique architectural gem to a bland, suburban, cookie cutter building. There are pervasive and reliable rumors that Provo's temple is next on the chopping block. (And don't get me started on the travesty that is BYU's architecture.)

The point is that there seems to be precious little regard for history in this state and church. As I mention in the newspaper, the church would certainly not have scraped the idea of a tabernacle if the one in Salt Lake had burned. But in Provo, the wishes of the church — which could have been satisfied in any number of other ways, such as building another temple and keeping the tabernacle — were put above the needs of the community.

And I'd argue that the community really does need a tabernacle. To compare Provo to Salt Lake again, imagine if the only buildings on Temple Square were closed to the public. Imagine if there were two temples, or the current tabernacle just let in Mormons. How much of a draw would Temple Square be? Certainly less of one than it currently is.

The point is that a community benefits from a gathering place, especially one that is tied to the community's history but open to everyone. Americans love to visit European cities for precisely that reason. Interestingly, urban planning has increasingly validated the ideas put into place by Utah's early settlers: a logical street grid, trees, walkability, etc. (Visit The Atlantic Cities to generally read more about these ideas).

The Tabernacle was part of that vision. It was a centrally located gathering point, and it encapsulated the values on which the community was built. And as it gets brushed aside for something new, I can't help but wonder if the cohesion, vibrancy, and diversity of the community will go with it.

Provo Post 7: Biking to the Airport

Last week Laura and I flew to New York. We had flight vouchers on American Airlines, but decided to use Provo's newly commercial airport to fly to Denver (on Frontier Airlines), and then fly from there to New York. Because we live in downtown Provo, we decided to bike to the airport. According to Google Maps, the airport is 4.4 miles from our house, and the ride should take 25 minutes.

Our ride to the airport was generally pleasant, with relatively cool morning air and not much traffic. The only hairy part was going over the Center Street bridge. There's no bike lane on the bridge and the ground is littered with small rocks and rubble, so it felt a little dangerous to be riding a bike. Laura has a mountain bike and was able to ride on the (mostly destroyed) sidewalk, but that seemed way too rough for my road tires.

However, there wasn't much traffic and once we passed the freeway there is a bike lane.

When we got to the airport we locked our bikes to the metal fence. Laura and I were fairly nervous that our bikes would be impounded or otherwise removed, but we had been told the night before by the city spokeswoman that using the fence should be alright. When we got into the airport we were greeted by two men (sort of like Walmart greeters, but at the airport), one of whom told us that using the fence should be fine.

A week later, we returned and to our great relief discovered that our bikes were still chained to the fence. Because we were siting in the front of the plane and the airport is so small, we were literally riding home before all of our fellow passengers had deplaned.

Riding home, however, was a significantly more harrowing experience than getting to the airport. The first problem was that the road immediately outside the airport has no street lights. It's also a fairly rural road, so it's not even lit by surrounding buildings. The result was that we basically were riding blind. Cars passed us fairly constantly, offering brief light and then lingering blindness. Because we had been traveling, we also weren't wearing especially reflective gear or clothing.

Luckily we made it to Center Street without getting hit, run over, or falling in a pot hole. We used the bike lane again and experienced another pleasant ride until we got to the bridge. At that point, we again had to go over, but this time in the dark and with more traffic. We didn't get hit, but I wouldn't recommend riding over that bridge in the dark. Oddly, there is no real road that goes under the bridge that I know of, but I think it would be possible to get off and carry a bike beneath the bridge. It's slower (and maybe the area under the bridge is a bit shady?) but I'd recommend that option over riding.

Once we got over the bridge (and through the related construction) we got back in the Center Street bike lane. It was a pleasant ride the rest of the way to our home.

Conclusions:

Riding a bike to the Provo airport was great. It had all the advantages that the Provo airport promises — close proximity to my and other homes, ultra easy security, no crowds, etc. — with the added benefits of bike riding — exercise, lower carbon footprint, being closer to the outdoors, etc. The ride was relatively short, flat, easy, and laid back. Even a child could easily do most of the ride.

However, as far as I know, there is no real way to get around the more dangerous areas. The Provo River Trail is pleasant and would circumvent the bridge, but is out of the way for anyone south of 800 North, and would surely take much longer for anyone. Also, at night I probably wouldn't feel safe riding for miles on the trail.

I assume the bridge issue will be solved when all the construction is finished (assuming a bike lane goes in on that part of the road), but the lighting at night also was a serious problem. I imagine the city or airport has plans to improve that road, but additional lighting seems like it would benefit everyone, so I hope it's a top priority.

A bike rack at the airport also would be nice. I don't know of many airports that are as close to city centers and residential areas as Provo's. A bike rack could serve both travelers, as well as airport workers and aviation students. Plus, once the rack is installed I think it would serve as its own advertisement, suggesting the possibility of cycling to travelers and workers who may not have previously considered it.

Provo Post 6: A Tale of Another City

Contemplating future prosperity in Provo, I've been surprised at how strongly schools keep standing out as the missing piece of the puzzle. Though I wouldn't be opposed to Provo becoming a hip urban center filled with child-less twenty- and thirty-somethings, long term economic development certainly hinges on families making the city their home. Moreover, I've heard many permanent residents in Provo express a desire to draw more families to the area (specifically who will buy homes).

But here's some not-even-close-to-breaking news: Provo schools are terrible. I've pointed this out in past posts, and mentioned how that fact drives people to other parts of the state (or, also, to other states). Still, however, there is little or no discussion about the connections between economic growth/prosperity and good schools. So, let me tell a story about Glendora, where I grew up.

Glendora is a relatively upscale suburb of L.A. The population was somewhere in the neighborhood of 50,000 when I lived there and I don't think it has changed dramatically since. Also, it's a (grueling, miserable) hour drive from downtown L.A. and has no significant industry to speak of.

Anyway, when I was in high school, Glendora voted on a school bond. As a high school student I wasn't deeply immersed in local politics, but I know that the bond basically required property owners to pay higher taxes, which would then go to the schools.

The bond was fairly controversial because Glendora isn't just comparatively rich, it's also kind of old. The city is and was home to many empty nesters and otherwise elderly people, many of whom were outraged that they would have to pay for the education of another generation of kids.

But still, the bond passed.

As I understand it, Glendora's schools have had their ups and downs over the years, but throughout it all they have remained highly ranked. Again, remember that there is no industry, higher education, etc. in Glendora that compels people to live there. In a sea of similar suburbs, Glendora's biggest selling point is its schools. That's the main reason my family moved there when I was very young, and it was the reason lots of families did the same. I also don't think it is unreasonable to say that if Glendora's schools suddenly declined in quality the city would gradually shrink and become a ghetto, like many other Southern California suburbs.

The point here is that Glendora used taxation to better the city. I think that is an important point that people in Provo could learn. Sure, we all hate paying taxes and having less money. I know I do. But any family that has a choice will not move to an area with bad schools. Similarly, people will not move to places with dilapidated downtowns, bad roads, crumbling community centers, a lack of culture, etc. If these things do not exist, the city can create them. Provo did this with the upcoming recreation center. But whatever money is going to the schools is still not enough.

If there is any doubt the wisdom of this, I would again cite Glendora. While I know that contrasting it with Provo may be like comparing apples to oranges, many of the things Provo wants Glendora already has. Despite much steeper competition, stores in downtown Glendora are doing better than those in downtown Provo. The entire area doesn't feel run down and slummy. The houses are well-kept. The people more prosperous. (While eating at a charming sidewalk cafe in Glendora this last weekend I was surprised at how much more foot traffic the area had, compared to Provo, and how the cars parked along the street were clearly those of established residents as opposed to beater college student vehicles, like the ones I see in Provo. Provo doesn't need fewer college students, it needs more people willing like Glendora's who are willing to invest in the community and consume it's products.) In essence, Glendora invested heavily in one area, and is reaping the rewards of having attracted a desirable population in all areas.

I don't want Provo to become like Glendora. I don't want to live in Glendora (not by a long shot). But like so many communities in the U.S., Glendora offers an example of (a staunchly conservative) community pooling together, sacrificing, and working hard for the greater good. Until people in Provo do the same, our city will always lag behind.

Provo Post 5: Young People in Provo

I've considered giving up on this series, because I've been getting discouraged by Provo in the last couple of weeks. Frankly, the petty political bickering and short-sightedness in the city sickens me. I fell in love with Provo as a student and recent grad, and now living in Provo as a permanent resident I'm beginning to fall deeply out of love with it.

Nevertheless, I press on:

How can Provo get more young people — especially educated young people who are starting families — to settle in the city? These people are a key to economic growth ‚ or even just stability, and yet few of them stick around. Having lived in Provo for a number of years, I've watched wave after wave of my friends move away. Even people from Utah have typically left. That bodes very badly for the city.

On a related note, Wikipedia projects only 7% growth in the city between 2000 and 2010. Though the population has increased, that is the smallest augmentation Provo has seen since 1880.

These are serious problems for the city. If Provo doesn't have sufficient growth, it'll become an even more polarized community filled exclusively with college students and the old people who hate college students. And nobody wants to live in a place like that. (Though, judging by the attitudes I see some people express online about Provo, it seems like that is what they want.) So here are a few issues that plague Provo:


Jobs: The biggest reason people leave, in my experience, is the job market. I was literally about to leave myself, because I couldn't find a job, before I was hired at the Daily Herald. Sadly, Provo has few jobs, and many of those aren't the kind that ambitious and excited new college graduates are looking for. Provo needs to create more jobs, especially those requiring highly skilled workers. And the so-called "free market" isn't going to do this on it's own. Instead, Provo needs to actively create an environment that provides economic incentives to young people and the kinds of places that employ them. Yes, this is easier said than done, but I haven't seen or heard any public discussion about how this can happen.

Schools: I have a lot of respect for Provo's schools because everyone I've ever met who attended them was a great person. Unfortunately, Provo's schools look terrible on paper. Utah gets some of the worst rankings in the country when it comes to public education, and Provo doesn't do great even compared to other districts throughout the state. As evidence of this fact, I cite the existence of the entire Highland-Alpine-Cedar Hills area. Several years ago my family moved from California to Cedar Hills. My dad got a job in Provo, but they chose to live in Cedar Hills in large part because of the school district. Huge swaths of those cities are filled with people who have similar stories. I don't have kids and this issue isn't a big deal to me personally, but the economic success of Provo hinges on improving it's schools, which are a huge deal for anyone considering (re-)locating themselves, their family, or their business in Utah.


Social Environment: Who hasn't heard someone slamming Provo? "Provo is lame," people say. "Provo has nothing to do," they complain. (Ironically, many people coming to Provo hail from vapid suburbs where there is significantly less to do, but that is a topic for another post.) Whether these allegations are true or not, Provo definitely suffers from an image problem. It's one of a clean but boring city, where there is little (political, ethnic, social, etc.) diversity. I would argue that there is a surprising amount of diversity in Provo (being a crime reporter has made that apparent to me), but Provo needs to work on its branding and image.

I think Provo's image problem is epitomized by the dilapidated downtown, which why I've been so excited by Mayor Curtis's interest in revitalization. Maybe some of Provo's more libertarian-leaning residents want to sit at home all the time, clutching their guns and hording food for the apocalypse, but I believe that young adults (not only college students, but potential permanent residents as well) want exciting public spaces and community engagement. They want a city they can show off — for its visuals, it's cultural offerings, it's economic opportunities — to their family and friends. In other words, one way to lure new people to become contributing members of the community is to create a community that is vibrant, interactive, and appealing. Don't hope for new people who will bring a community with them, build a community that people want to join.

Which brings me back to my first paragraph. I came to love Provo for a lot of reasons. I like the weather (seasons! but more temperate than many places). I like the old buildings. I love living in the midst of a student community. I was inspired by businesses — Velour, Muse Music, Communal, Lady Danburry, The Covey Center, etc. — that are run by passionate people who have chosen to locate in the city, sometimes against long odds. Without these places I, and others like me, would not have decided to live here for any amount of time. If they stopped existing, I would (or will) leave.

I'm similarly excited about upcoming projects. The rec center, the opt-out recycling program and the bike plans are the types of things that will attract people to Provo.

The ultimate point here, I think, is that Provo needs to invest in it's future if it wants to attract young people. That doesn't mean some sort of abstract, spiritual investment with all our hearts and minds (though that is nice, too). Rather, it means a real, physical, monetary investment on the part of those already in the community.

Provo Post 4: Can We Be a Winning Team?

Question: Why do some sports teams win year after year?
Answer: Obviously, because they have the resources to hire and train the best players.

While writing my last post, I happened on a distinction that I hope is a major theme in this series: exhorting verses incentivizing. Think about it. When a pro sports team like the Lakers or the Yankees wants a major player, they don't just harp on how great the team is. Instead, they prove to the player that there is a direct personal benefit to be won by coming to the new team. Usually that benefit is a fat paycheck.

The lesson, I think, is that if Provo is not (yet) as successful, exciting, hip, or whatever as we want it to be, the incentives aren't (yet) sweet enough.

Provo is definitely getting better at attracting talent. New businesses are opening, the airport has gone commercial, old businesses are expanding, etc., etc. If Provo wasn't showing a lot of promise right now I don't think I would have been inspired to blog about the city.

But Provo needs to do a better job. Do we want to be the Los Angeles Lakers, or the Sacramento Kings? Daily I look at the handful of decent business on State Street in Orem and wonder why they would choose to be in the midst of sleazy payday loan centers and (what look like) meth labs, when they could be in Provo. Before my current job, I worked at a successful, very cool technology company. The only downside was it's location, in an ugly building on an ugly street in American Fork. Similarly Adobe is opening up a new facility, near Point of the Mountain. Why there? (Proximity to the prison? All new Adobe employees will hang-glide to work?)

Obviously reasons behind location choices are diverse and complex, but each time a business chooses to locate elsewhere it's a loss for Provo. To counter this, Provo should actively court and lobby businesses from both in and out of the state, enticing and incentivizing them to come to Provo. (Perhaps something like this already exists? Maybe some sort of lobbying committee organized or run by the city government? I hope so, but I haven't heard about it. Also, the gains of such an effort should far outweigh the costs.)

Of course, enticing strong businesses to come to the city is fairly obvious. Who doesn't want that? But equally important is getting residents to embrace those businesses, as well as the incentives offered to them. That could include land deals, fee or license waivers, rent control, or any number of actions the city could take to make Provo more economically and culturally attractive. "Whatever it takes" could be the slogan. Some of these actions may not be initially popular, but they will have long-term benefits.

I was reminded of the importance residents embracing incentivizing Saturday night, when I was at the grocery store around 11:50 p.m. As I poked around for cheeses, an employee got on the PA and announced that alcohol sales would stop at midnight. I don't drink and had forgotten that such a policy exists in Provo, but as soon as I heard the announcement I realized it was a perfect example of a law that hamstrings Provo's development. On top of Utah's generally byzantine liquor laws (which are widely seen in the hospitality industry as economically damaging), Provo has additional rules that not only reduce local stores' sales tax, but generally make life a pain for anyone who isn't an orthodox Mormon.

The point is that if Provo residents want to become more prosperous, have more cultural offerings, and enjoy a higher standard of living (which I believe they do), we need to make the city more inviting to diverse people with diverse values. Related to alcohol sales on Sunday, that survey the city recently conducted returned several comments about getting rid of the bars and smoke shops in downtown. Fair enough, I guess, but those are apparently successful businesses. They generate sales tax revenue. They bring people into the city who might not otherwise come. They make it more diverse and ensure that downtown isn't completely empty.

Whether or not new businesses coming to Provo have anything to do with alcohol or other things local Mormons avoid, the point is that prosperity hinges on diversity. Returning to the sports analogy, when a team courts a star player they don't worry much about the player's background, tattoos, or even scandals. They worry about what that player can do on the court or field. Having strange policies (or even a subtle cultural leaning) that demonized some backgrounds, body art, or scandals would doom a team because the best players couldn't join.

Likewise, the city must make itself appealing to more than the usual crowd. Residents have to realize that the presence of people with different values — who dress and look differently, who patronize different kinds of entertainment, who consume different foods and drinks — is actually beneficial to them for so many reasons.

In other words, incentivizing means compromising, both of which produce prosperity.

Provo Post 3: Bookstores, Art Galleries and Other Unsustainable Ideas

Here's the short version of this post: As much as we'd all like downtown Provo to be filled with cool art galleries, bistros, cafes, bookstores and other stuff (that's definitely what I want, at least), I believe it's currently premature to focus much energy on cultivating new establishments in that vein. Downtown probably has as many (or more, maybe) of these types of businesses as it can sustain.

Here's the longer version:

My desire to blog about Provo was kicked started by a recent survey the city conducted. As most people in Provo (should) know, the city is trying to revitalize the downtown area, and the survey focused on what people want. Here's a quote from the comments section:

"New small biz retail, unique eats, urban living space, cafe's and bookstores,
cultural events and artspace, independent film house and sundance film festival venue"

And another:

"I would love to see a chain restaurant where Los Hermanos was evicted from
(like Olive Garden) and a good bookstore such as Barnes and Noble or Borders. "

I pulled these two comments because the both mention bookstores, which was a recurring theme in the survey.

First off, I find these comments ironic because until very recently, downtown Provo had two bookstores. Also, a new bookstore just barely opened up on Center Street. But aside from betraying a lack of familiarity with downtown Provo (why are you taking the survey if you don't even know what stores are there?), the comments reveal that a lot of people want downtown to be an exiting, cosmopolitan, urbane place. In addition to the comments about bookstores, I've heard/read people frequently express a desire to have more art galleries, cool restaurants/cafes, unique retailers, and other fun businesses.

I count myself among those who would like to see Provo filled with that kind of business. But after living in Provo for eight continuous years, I have become convinced that a downtown filled with these kinds of businesses is currently unsustainable. Why? Well, most obviously, because they keep opening, and almost as fast they keep closing.

But beside that, downtown Provo already seems to have reached it's saturation point with regard to cool businesses. There are a bunch of restaurants. A couple of (or three) great music venues. Two bars. Every once in a while a new consumer business will open (Gloria's Little Italy, for example) but surprisingly often these new businesses are merely filling a niche that was only recently vacated. (Ottavio's closed shortly before Gloria's opened, for example. Similarly, a new night club is planned for downtown, which will fill the niche recently vacated by the closure of Atchafalaya.)

Relatedly, there seems to be little or no market for some kinds of businesses. Bookstores are cool and I'd love to sit around sipping fancy drinks and reading newspapers in them, but the reality is that they're going the way of the dinosaur. Even big box chains are not immune to this. The reality is that not a lot of people buy books, and those who do increasingly use the internet to get them.

"Small biz", to quote from the survey comment above, has a similar problem. There have been — and still are to a lesser extent — very unique retailers in downtown Provo. For example, I occasionally purchased clothing from Coal Umbrella and Mode Boutique. So did a lot of people. But it wasn't enough to keep these places in business. Things like art galleries seem to have even more trouble. Every time a new one opens up I get really excited, and every time one closes I get a depressed. Can't we just all choose to patronize awesome places, and then Provo will finally be really cool?

Unfortunately, no. A few committed people just don't have the money, time and resources to do that. Wanting people to patronize cool businesses is not enough. I, my friends, and people like me can't afford to constantly buy things at galleries, eat at nice restaurants, etc. Also, telling people to patronize cool businesses is not enough. I remember casually overhearing someone at the old Sego Gallery complain that people just weren't supportive enough of the arts. I agree, but complaining about it won't change that fact. Behavior is rarely changed by exhorting — it's changed by incentivizing.

Ultimately, I think this is a good illustration of what I was talking about in my last post: population density. I think the ulimate thing we need in downtown Provo are more consumers. Sure, broad cultural changes can and should take place. People in Provo should become more supportive of independent businesses, local artisans, and the arts generally. But those changes will take time and will likely not come soon enough to adequately sustain what we currently have, or inspire new ideas.

So, while I laud individual efforts to start new businesses in downtown Provo, as I think about the larger efforts I believe we (individuals, entrepreneurs, the city, etc.) ought to focus on increasing demand for a revitalized downtown, not on increasing the supply of things in downtown. After all, supply without demand in downtown Provo (e.g. real estate and commercial space) is what gave us the relative ghost town we have today.

Provo Post 1: Introduction

I've lived in Provo almost continuously since 2003. (Traveling abroad has taken me out of the city on a couple of occasions for months at a time.) For most of my time in Provo I have lived in the historic Joaquin neighborhood. I also lived in Provo for a year from 2000 to 2001, and I was born in Provo in the early 80s. For what it's worth (not much to some, more to others) I'm also a descendant of the prominent families that founded and built the city up.

I've decided to write a few blog posts on Provo, which because of my background is both my native and adoptive home. It is not my favorite city on earth, but it is my favorite city among those in which I have been a long term resident. I also believe that despite what many people say, it is not "lame" or boring, and that it is definitely getting better and better.

I want to write these posts because Provo seems to be approaching a unique and exciting moment. It frequently ranks as a good place to live, a city with promising economic prospects, and a place that is projected to grow dramatically in coming years. On the other hand, there obviously are a lot of competing visions about what Provo should be. The neighborhood where I just bought a house (and where I had been living for years) has been roiled by controversy over a recent change in paving laws. Provo's downtown is pathetic (but improving). Many aspects of the youth culture — including successful businesses— are seemingly marginalized, or worse, but government and older residents. As someone who is choosing to live in Provo, I have strong opinions about all of these issues, and others.

For my part, I’ve lived in the city as an undergrad, a grad student, a working professional, a home owner, a musician, a filmmaker, and a bunch of other things. I recently bought an old home on a tree-lined street. I was attracted to the city by the music scene, the (unfortunately ebbing and flowing) arts scene, the bike-ability, the climate, and other things. So there's a brief introduction for anyone (or no one?) who cares.

Provo Bakery

Today I felt like a traitor. I needed to get some sort of treat to bring to work, and I got raspberry rolls from Shirley's Bakery. After living next to the Provo Bakery (which bizarrely has no website) for months, going to Shirley's seemed like a betrayal. I've eaten and loved so many things from the Provo Bakery. I've sung it's praises to so many people.

But the honestly, the Provo Bakery needs to step up its game. A lot. First, get a website. Second, I keep getting dried out things from them. The more bakeries I go to, the more disappointing the Provo Bakery is becoming. And that's terrible. I say this not to be mean, or as a disgruntled customer. I still love the Provo Bakery. Rather, I'm trying to offer constructive criticism. I feel like I can never go wrong with the orange rolls or the Mexican wedding cakes. But the cookies? The bread? I feel like I can almost never go right with the donuts. Please, improve. I love you.

So, today, I needed something good, and I needed to know it would be good. I've brought all the good things from the Provo Bakery to work, and so I turned to Shirley's. And you know what, it was delicious.

Utah Valley Spring Art Show

Earlier today I was perusing the blogosphere when I saw a post about the 2011 Utah Valley Spring Art Show. Somehow I hadn't heard about it, but it sounded cool so Laura and I went, along with Laura's brother, Will. I figured it would be cool, and I heard it would be in the top of the big Zion's Bank building, which I was excited to see.

But as it turns out, it was much more than cool. Most of the floors had tons of art, with each floor having different live music and catering. There were also a ton of people there. (I don't know how I didn't hear about it earlier.) As it turned out, it was one of the coolest things I have been to in Provo in a while. It was also good to see that the arts are still very much alive in the area, considering the general collapse of the student-ish art scene in the 100 Block over the last couple of years.

Anyway, by the time we left, I was already looking forward to next year.

Going Home Culture

Throughout my time as a college undergrad I was puzzled and slightly intrigued by my friends who had families near by. As a Californian living in Utah, seeing my family was a two or three times a year affair. I’d go home during Thanksgiving and Christmas, and maybe during summer, but for the most part I didn’t see them much.

That, however, contrasted significantly with my friends from Utah who went home at least several times a month. In the case of my roommates I’d always notice them taking their laundry and coming home from Sunday dinner with leftovers. I have to admit that in many ways I was envious of these friends; they obviously had the opportunity to cultivate a stronger relationship with their families, and they also saved money by eating their parent’s food and using their parent’s washing machine.

Though my family lived in California for years, just as I graduated they moved to Utah and I subsequently began to experience the decidedly different culture that exists among family members living within driving distance of each other. Of course, I was recently married by this time and no longer an undergrad, but I still began to do many of the things I’d seen my friends do before. I started taking advantage of my parent’s washing machine. Laura and I started going (and continue to go) to dinner at my family’s house nearly every week. Occasionally we go hang out with them or do things for family night.

As we’ve done this I’ve been surprised at the difference between having family far away and having them nearby. Though that difference was apparent to me before when I had experienced only one of those two options, I don’t think I could fully appreciate it until my family moved to Utah.

For example, as Laura and I prepare to visit her family for Christmas she mentioned how we might not want to bring piles of dirty laundry home (though we have done this in the past and may still in the future). We also don’t think of Laura’s parent’s home as a source of delicious free food.

More seriously however, the kind of relationship that is fosters between family members is largely contingent on how often they communicate and through what medium. The actual conversations that we have with my family, for example, are affected by how much time we spend at their home. It’s also obvious to see how the various things going on in our lives (school, work, stress generally, etc.) changes the kind of relationship we have. On the other hand, a fair amount of time we spend with Laura’s family is going to inevitably be reserved for catching up and/or reasserting the familiar connection we feel.

All of this is really just to say that distance still plays a significant factor in the kind of relationships people can have. Though the Internet and other technologies continue to “shrink” the world, I don’t think they actually allow relationship to transcend or circumvent distance. I’m not arguing that one kind of relationship is better (be it long or short), but that no matter how many phone calls a person makes to their long distance family they can never have the same kind of “going home” culture as a person with family nearby and vice versa.