Wednesday, January 18, 2017

City on a Grid: How New York Became New York

 Cyclists who’ve ridden through New York and London will notice the difference between their streets, same thing with Rome, Milan, and Tokyo. You’ll see how US cities are plotted on a grid of perpendicular lines, like a giant chessboard, while old cities are not. European and Asian cities plotted their streets along valleys, streams, and hills, while the founding fathers wanted the whole of the USA plotted on a grid.  It would become a fundamental influence of American urban planning.

    Prior to reading Gerard Koeppel’s City on a Grid I read an earlier book called The Greatest Grid, which includes photographs of Manhattan when it was just farmland. While the earlier book is strictly visual, City on a Grid dives into the scientific origins of America’s gridded cities. Koeppel gives a more historical bend on the grid, which originated in Europe. It was a circular form that would begin with a fort on a hill (typical of Europe) and the town would be settled around it in a circular formation. The difference, according to the author, is that European cities were rarely confined to an island like Manhattan. I don’t necessarily agree with this, because Venice is an island and the streets are somewhat gridded, though the alleys are hard to navigate. However, compared to Manhattan, Venice is a labyrinth. The Paris of today has its origins in urban planning, when Baron Haussmann bulldozed through the Victor Hugo Paris of alleys and warrens in favor of spacious boulevards. The older streets, left untouched, still follow the old pattern.

    The first chapters of the book discuss political wrangling and finance problems, because in the early days of the nation, Congress had less authority to tax the people, so it was harder to get Federal money for anything. As for the city, the streets of downtown Manhattan used the old English survey, which what they still follow.  Try navigating below City Hall Park and you’ll find yourself in a rabbit warren. Koeppel also goes into the origin of the names, such as Delancey, a pro-Loyalist banker who had his lands confiscated, and the Bowery, originally Pete Stuyvesant’s “boerie,” or farm. Canal Street wasn’t really a canal, as the name suggests, but a drainage ditch for the polluted Collect Pond. If you’re interested in how the streets got their names, there are many websites devoted to city street necropsy.


    Much of the city’s grid had to do with the need for housing. Tall buildings were unpopular in the days before elevators, and it was the gradual development of steel girders, heavy equipment, and elevator safety brakes that made the skyscrapers possible. These building projects would not have been possible if they weren’t on a grid. Like I said before, finance was a big part of it, because businessmen needed the large buildings. Neither the wealthy nor the poor wanted smelly ponds and canals, so there was both financial and political incentive to fill them in. Yet in the end, the biggest obstacle is always where to get the money. At no time in history did the Americans ever like taxes.

Monday, January 9, 2017

Scar Tissue

The first quarter of this book is a hair-raising adventure. Kiedis is a kid who is born and raised to party; his father is a drug dealing hippie who lives with a stable full of groupies and that sums up the kid’s life. He and his father both get into acting, then lose their gigs because they’re both undisciplined.  He grows up manic, fearless, stupid, adventurous, and eccentric at the same time. It’s both frightening and hilarious to read about.

   Being an outsider is a common theme in this book. He goes from hippie kid in Michigan, transplanted to Los Angeles, to poor kid in a rich-kid school, to a long-haired Californian in a school full of Michigan farmboys. Fortunately for him, his father is good friends with Sonny Bono, so he makes good use of their guest room, refrigerator, and their address so he can go to a good high school. Eventually he wears out his welcome with Sonny, thanks to his rude-kid attitude, but I’ll not spoil the plot on what happens at the fur vest mansion. Then comes the school full of weirdo misfits, some of whom would eventually join Kiedis’ band.

  Scar Tissue reminds me of Jeanette Walls’ The Glass Castle where the crazy parents keep the family on the move through America’s poor towns. The only difference is that the poor town in Scar Tissue also has a thriving art and music scene, and he’s in no hurry to leave or see the world. As for his constant drug use, he has his father’s stash to keep him high 24 hours a day, so it’s not like he has to deal it to support his habit. Nor does he have to go into dangerous neighborhoods to buy the drugs, so there’s no danger to scare him straight. After high school he cheats his way into UCLA, snorts cocaine, steals his textbooks, steals his meals from the cafeteria, snorts some more cocaine, so it’s no surprise that he likes living in Los Angeles. Who wouldn’t? He’s a loser, don’t get me wrong, but what he has going for him is the constant freedom to keep losing.

    The tone of the story shifts, however, once he leaves UCLA. We get into the L.A. rock scene, and his life no longer consists of vegetating at his father’s house and getting high, interspersed with being a troublemaker at school. He now spends his time hanging out at the numerous run-down rock venues, interspersed with getting high and shoplifting for food. His father, scared straight by an LAPD raid, gets out of drug dealing and becomes a starving actor again. At the time of this story (circa 1983) the city was still on the downscale side and the cheap rents meant that anyone could open a music venue if you got the permits. The rock fans had less money to spend, so if you couple all that together, you can see how there were plenty of clubs to perform at. You didn’t have all the upscale restaurants driving rents up.

    Each part of the book can really stand on its own; the dysfunctional family, the crazy childhood, the starving actor, the starving rock musician. Unlike most rock star autobiographies, this one has been print since it came out, so there’s got to be a reason people love this book. I suspect it’s just as much about the wildness of Los Angeles as it is about music. Like that famous line from the song Californication, the city is “the end of the world and all of Western civilization,” or as Kenneth Anger put it, “a dusty tin lizzy trail on the edge of Manifest Destiny.”


If you travel from the place where the USA began, Los Angeles is the last stop on the route.