Neighborhood Destruction, Capitol Hill Style

I've been noticing that my lovely little street has started to turn into a not so lovely, garbage cluttered, shattered glass strewn, graffiti sprayed street. Soon, this same street will be home to inidviduals and couples who can afford to live in newly built condos (starting in the low 200,000's for a 400 sq. ft. room), and between the two extremes, I'm a bit nervous. I fear that my rent will go up AND that I won't feel as safe walking home in the dark after yoga. What is going on, I wonder. I get that people don't have money and that the poor are just getting poorer--this is a world destruction, your life ain't nothing, the human race is becoming a disgrace. The rich get richer, the poor are getting poorer--and when one neighborhood gets gentrified then those forced to move out have to move somewhere else, only to have it happen all over again. Is my little section of Capitol Hill the next to experience this cycle? I didn't realize that we weren't gentrified. All the hipsters that live around here, and all. Though, there are some buildings that I am sure have managed to keep their rents reasonable--including mine, I pray it continues--up 'til now, which makes it affordable. Maybe notices are being slipped under doors explaining the rent increases and causing stress and anger in those who don't make enough to cover it.

Yesterday, when I was walking to work, I passed an apartment building that is constantly in a state of flotsam and jetsam. It's as if everyone who moves out is so angry that they throw everything they own away, AROUND, not in, the dumpster--which, by the way, is on the sidewalk, therefore all of the garbage is also on the sidewalk. I think about the people that live in that building, who are probably perfectly nice human beings, and what they must think when they go to take out their own trash. "Why us?". It's not really every day, just that end of the month move out period. Kinda sad. I can't help but think that it's not as simple as a lazy ex-tennant who doesn't feel like packing. There is a violence to the mess punctuated with a "screw you" exclamaition point of glass shards all over the sidewalk.

Same street, different building, there is a window, curtains always drawn. On the sill are two plastic Virgin Mary figures, what looks like a music box (the actual mechanism that produces the sound) and a bookmark size sign that reads, "TIME IS RUNNING OUT". Next to the sign, the music box is more like a bomb than anything that might produce a tinny, sweet, tinkling melody. I believe that to be the intention of the messenger. This window dressing is honestly the most enticing reason for me to want a digital camera. I want a picture of this window. When I see that message on the same walk as the new condos and the exploding garbage, it really speaks to me. I get a little scared. Time does feel like it's running out, though I'm not sure how quickly. Though the owner of the display might be refering to the end of the world, I'm thinking in terms of the end of comfortable, affordable living quarters. This city is headed for the fate of San Francisco, building on every bit of free space, demolishing buildings to make room for more high rises and squeezing out the rest of us. Soon, there will be nowhere else to build and rents and housing prices will be out of this city's cost of living range.

The first apartment buidling I lived in is being converted to condos. What a shock that was. The weird, confused motifs of the Fireside Manor are now being whitewashed, literally, into bland bland bland. Chinnoiserie meets 60's Renainssance Revival is gone, daddy gone. The day they take down the Lord and Lady of the manor fake stained glass doors is a day to weep. I'll bet the flocked wall paper inside is gone, already. They've probably replaced the robin's egg blue stoves with plain 'ole white Kenmore knock offs, too.

Let us all send lovely messages to the powers that be to keep my dear home affordable, for all who live in my building. Thank you.