Tag: housing

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This Use to Be Grass

The homeless are increasingly pariahs, across San Diego County. The public policy is discourage and displace, rather than meaningfully address fundamental causes. The Featured Image and companion reveal one tactic: Piling jagged rocks where until recently there was grass, punctuated by shrub-like trees.

But the homeless would somewhat frequently hangout or campout on the grass. Honestly, the rocks are more unsightly than the homeless tents. Grass is great! We need more. The city destroys a lovely green space to deter the so-called unhoused? Solve the problem! Don’t create one as band-aid for another. The rocks look weird, and they are weapons. Lots of damage can be done with rocks like these.

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Eighteen Years Ago Today…

On this date, in 2007, the Wilcox family arrived in San Diego. We had left the Washington, DC-metro area to be close to my aged father-in-law, who luckily found us an apartment one block from his place. Our presence meant that in January 2017 he could pass way at age 95 in his own bed, rather than in some sterile institution.

The city is hardly recognizable from the one we moved to.  San Diego seemed sleepy, small town-like for the size. Communities were tight knit, even with the massive number of renters; congestion was a rare occurrence on the roadways; neighborhood streets were wide; housing architecture was surprisingly varied and charming; and homeowners kept attractive green spaces, among many other attractive attributes, with the three-summer season weather being among them.

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The Rally at 1526 Meade Avenue

The city’s obsession with adding more housing shocks by the day. Cute, historic homes are leveled and replaced by multi-level residential buildings that are typically rentals (no condos for you, Bud) and explicitly turn out to be so-called micro-units (tiny space, big monthly payment). These new builds tower over single-family homes and/or two-story apartments/condos, dramatically obliterating local character and robbing existing homes of airflow and sunlight.

Justification: Housing shortage. That’s a lie. According to Zillow, there are currently 18,499 rentals available across San Diego County. For sale: 8,101 homes. That sure looks like plenty of inventory to me. According to Point2Homes, which business is helping people find places to rent, there are 6,142 “housing units” in my community of University Heights. Zillow says 279 of them are currently for rent; but not all list on the service, so the number should be higher.

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The Problem with Pride

For reasons that I don’t understand, San Diego holds its annual Pride parade (today, as a matter of fact) in July rather than June, which is the official month for celebrating the Alphabet coalition. Someone reading will have a conniption for my vernacular. Don’t be offended. This post should still be live in 10 years, and who knows how many more letters will be tacked on by then. Alphabet covers them all.

The main parade route and celebratory location is the main gay enclave of Hillcrest, which is adjacent to my community of University Heights. Hillcrest is grungy. Sidewalks are filthy and reek of urine. Homeless scatter about sleeping in nooks or out in the open. Some of the more industrious push about carts upon which hang bags of clanging cans and bottles, which are recyclable redeemable.

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Fighting Fire with Words

The third weekend of the month is the book-sale room at the University Heights Public Library. The place is on the same street as yesterday’s fire and about two blocks walk away. My wife and I had to see the aftermath.

Annie saw the signs first, as my eyes were drawn to charring along the building’s right front section. As you can see from the Featured Image and companions, some neighbors are quite displeased with what, reportedly, is a recent series of incidents occurring on the property—and this most recent fire not the first.

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Another University Heights Fire

Sometime after 11:30 a.m. PDT today, my wife spotted black, billowing smoke rising in the near distance; I suspected perhaps along El Cajon Blvd or among the houses between cross-streets Florida and Mississippi. A fire truck turning that way on Florida seemed to confirm my suspicion. But I was mistaken.

Smoke had dissipated by the time I crossed the Boulevard on foot in pursuit. As I approached Polk, smokey smell tickled my nostrils—yuck, from up the very steep hill to Georgia. After confirming with a bicyclist walking down the incline that the fire really was above, I grudgingly trudged away. Sure enough, with burning legs the cost, I had come to the right street.

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I Wouldn’t Live Here

On September 29, I asked: “Would You Want to Live Here?” regarding the new, ah, studio apartments converted from garages along the alley separating Alabama and Florida streets. One of the five units is still available, and it’s the lowest-cost rental here in University Heights: $1,295. Wow, what a bargain.

How much room do you need? The domicile provides a whole 180-square-feet of living space. You don’t mind sleeping on the floor, do you—or eating there—all Japanese style? But the big benefit is proximity to trash and recycle bins. You can practically open the window and drop in trash. The Featured Image shows what to expect. Don’t open the window or door. Oh, that smell!

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San Diego is Scary Now

Seventeen years ago today, the Wilcox family relocated to San Diego from the Washington, DC-metro area. We came to care for my father-in-law, who would live another decade and pass away—age 95—in his own bed. He likely would have gone sooner and/or been confined to a nursing home otherwise.

My wife and I should have fled Communist California—and the slave mentality induced here—in 2017, soon after her dad died. But ongoing concerns about our only child kept us here longer. Our daughter’s brain injury, in March 2023, justified the financial hardship of staying. She survived—something unlikely had we, from a long distance, taken doctors’ advice to end life support rather than by being present choose to continue it.

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Would You Want to Live Here?

As explained three days ago, apartment landlords are taking away tenant garages and converting them into residential rentals. The practice is rampant across San Diego County, including my neighborhood of University Heights.

Unsurprisingly, the alleys separating streets fill with parked cars, particularly late day into the evening hours. You lost your garage and can’t find a legal space, so you make do and hope to move before the parking police blast by writing tickets.

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Say Goodbye to Your Garage Parking Space

When we relocated to San Diego nearly 17 years ago, most home garage renovations were illegal—meaning they had been done without proper permits, if any. The stated interior size revealed all: A 600-square-foot cottage would be obviously larger, because of the undocumented, unsanctioned expansion.

Oh, and the buyer inherited any liability. Imagine one consequence, where the city, county, or state issued fines or demanded the whole, ah, illegal project be torn out. For the short time my wife and I considered buying a home here, we stayed clear of such properties. 

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Pay More For Less

Take a good, long look at the Featured Image. This apartment building epitomizes how dramatically have rentals risen in San Diego over scant number of years. Something seems wrong here—and I mean more broadly. This place merely reflects a trend in explosive increases that feels funny—fixed, unnatural—for a typically dynamic capitalist market.

I’ll illustrate. In June 2021, a 1,000-square-foot flat listed for $1,495 monthly and presumably rented, since the listing was removed eight days later. Available now for $2,325, in the same building: 530-sq-foot studio. Oh, and Zillow estimates that if the larger unit was marketed today, the landlord should charge $3,063.

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The Sleeper

I rarely photograph San Diego homeless, as a silent sign of respect. But, today, one gentlemen so surprised me that I felt compelled to take the shot—well, several. Walking East on Meade Ave., I saw him sleeping on the sidewalk across the way, where Mission cuts diagonally—think 45 degrees—from the intersection at Park Blvd.

The sleep mask is what intrigued me. He looked so unusually comfortable, lying on the cement, which was surprising, too. Foot and vehicular traffic is fairly brisk, and noisy, on a Friday afternoon; then there is the bus stop—a couple meters away, at most. Yet he looked so serene and lay motionless, but in an open space where homeless are otherwise uncommon.