I read about how builders are looking at North America's many dead or dying malls as a source of residential development. It makes sense; there's more of an appetite for denser cities, so developers and planners are pushing the idea of filling in underused land. And even relatively successful malls have leftover space from closed stores and the acres of parking they only need the week before Christmas. Here in Canada, a lot of malls will be looking to fill big gaps left by Target and Sears.
As a long time fan of malls, I love this idea. The only complaint I have is that they're talking about either knocking down the malls, or adding buildings on those sprawling parking lots. If it's the latter, it could help to save a dying mall by giving it a captive audience. And since malls are usually in places that have good transit, they make good places for apartment dwellers that may not want cars. That further adds to the idea that the stores will benefit.
But I think it would be great to actually keep it nice and mall-like. Each store becomes an apartment or condo. Larger stores like H&M could be the equivalent of the penthouse. And the counters in the food court could be bachelors once you take out all the kitchen equipment. You could even put a sign over the entrance to each living space with the occupant's name. Okay, that may be pushing it too far.
Alright, I wrote that thinking if would never happen, but it turns out it happened at the oldest mall in America. It looks pretty nice, though - this being a historic mall - it isn't nearly as campy as I'd hoped. Apparently, these developments are shying away from using the word "mall" in describing them, because they don't want to scare off young people who see them as part of a bygone age. But I figure that you could play up the mall angle to go after folks in my age group who will have fond memories of them. And I'm sure you'd get some young people attracted to the irony of it all.
In the past, I've discussed how today's housing doesn't really provide us with social engagement, but living in a mall could give people that semi-communal living that a lot of people would like. It's hard to get to know people around you when you just see them in the elevator occasionally. But you'd have far more chance for interaction when you're also shopping around them. And malls would also be more pleasant if the people weren't just rushing around in their own worlds, avoiding everyone but their immediate companions.
And imagine the apartments were built above the stores, overlooking the mall, like the offices in the Eaton Centre. That would give the mall a more impressive atmosphere, and the apartments would get a better view than just a panorama of suburbia. Just pray you don't get an apartment over a trendy clothing store with the music cranked to eleven.
But now I find that they did essentially this at the University of Alberta, where they put a residence over top of the student centre. That sounds like a great idea. Residences are often pushed off to the side of the campus, it would be more convenient to have an easy connection with everything. And it would give the students more opportunity to casually socialize.
Showing posts with label apartment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apartment. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Moving Time
In the wake of the Grenfell tower fire in London, there's been a lot of anger, and questions being asked. If you aren't up on it, I'll point out that a lot of people are focusing on the cladding added to the outside walls a few years ago. The Times has revealed that they used cheaper flammable cladding for a total saving of £5000.
The Guardian published a controversial column by journalist Simon Jenkins claiming that residential towers themselves are just too dangerous, and we need to push society away from them.
That really seems to be coming out of nowhere. One thing this incident had made me appreciate is how safe buildings normally are. In looking for precedents for this fire, journalists have gone to a fire in Melbourne in 2014. Not to diminish the tragedy of either event, but given the huge number of of residential towers, the fact that they had to go back two years and the other side of the world shows how seldom big fires do happen. Fires in apartment buildings happen all the time, but the fact that they so rarely consume a whole building is a tribute to how well our building codes work, and why this fire needs to be put under the microscope.
Also, his attempt to lay all of society's ills at the foot of tall buildings seems strange. He contends that they destroy communities and cannot be part of a livable city - which is of course news to people around the world. But the argument is especially odd given the out-of-control housing prices around the world, and at epic levels in the UK. Moving away from apartment blocks would make that problem much worse. Solving phantom societal problems with no concern for the less fortunate is what we would expect from Britain's tabloids, not the Guardian.
Of course, this is all rooted in the British experience with high density housing. Scores of ugly, poorly thought-out blocks were thrown up quickly in the mid-twentieth-century. So Britons associate them with slums, instead of luxury condos or that first apartment you had out of college. Essentially this article is the old American problem: a judgement based on that nation's own experience, oblivious to the fact that it would be disproven with even the slightest knowledge of the outside world.
But the big difficulty going forward will be to change the culture. For years the western world has believed in the idea that regulation is inherently bad and getting rid of it is always the right thing to do. For instance, here's former British PM David Cameron five years ago, saying that he wants to kill the health and safety culture.
I'm seeing the same pattern that we had in Canada after the Lac-Mégantic train accident: the public asks how this could happen in such an advanced country, oblivious to the decades of deregulation that preceded it. At that point, many excitable journalists saw this anger and frustration coalescing into a political issue that would demand greater accountability for public safety. I, on the other hand, felt that you just needed to give the public time to forget, and then they'll go back to their attitude of slow-motion Galtization.
In the British case, I could more easily picture it becoming a shift in political thinking. For one thing, they have an aggressively left-leaning party with all the momentum, and a right-wing party that's in disarray on several fronts. But more than anything, the issue has become a class matter, with poor people feeling like this is a personal struggle. That's in sharp contrast to this side of the Atlantic, where the fury that's getting all the play is coming from the middle class.
A good symbol of the start of the shift is the call by Labour's Jeremy Corbyn to house the fire's homeless in the many empty houses in the area that are owned by absentee landlords. This has lead to one of those political situations where the two sides are so completely opposed that they are each trying to demonize the other simply by quoting their opponents, without even needing to exaggerate or twist their words. That's the point at which there is no doubt that there are different visions, rather than different spins on a general consensus, so it may well be that a lot of Britons have truly shifted their political sensibilities.
The Guardian published a controversial column by journalist Simon Jenkins claiming that residential towers themselves are just too dangerous, and we need to push society away from them.
That really seems to be coming out of nowhere. One thing this incident had made me appreciate is how safe buildings normally are. In looking for precedents for this fire, journalists have gone to a fire in Melbourne in 2014. Not to diminish the tragedy of either event, but given the huge number of of residential towers, the fact that they had to go back two years and the other side of the world shows how seldom big fires do happen. Fires in apartment buildings happen all the time, but the fact that they so rarely consume a whole building is a tribute to how well our building codes work, and why this fire needs to be put under the microscope.
Also, his attempt to lay all of society's ills at the foot of tall buildings seems strange. He contends that they destroy communities and cannot be part of a livable city - which is of course news to people around the world. But the argument is especially odd given the out-of-control housing prices around the world, and at epic levels in the UK. Moving away from apartment blocks would make that problem much worse. Solving phantom societal problems with no concern for the less fortunate is what we would expect from Britain's tabloids, not the Guardian.
Of course, this is all rooted in the British experience with high density housing. Scores of ugly, poorly thought-out blocks were thrown up quickly in the mid-twentieth-century. So Britons associate them with slums, instead of luxury condos or that first apartment you had out of college. Essentially this article is the old American problem: a judgement based on that nation's own experience, oblivious to the fact that it would be disproven with even the slightest knowledge of the outside world.
But the big difficulty going forward will be to change the culture. For years the western world has believed in the idea that regulation is inherently bad and getting rid of it is always the right thing to do. For instance, here's former British PM David Cameron five years ago, saying that he wants to kill the health and safety culture.
I'm seeing the same pattern that we had in Canada after the Lac-Mégantic train accident: the public asks how this could happen in such an advanced country, oblivious to the decades of deregulation that preceded it. At that point, many excitable journalists saw this anger and frustration coalescing into a political issue that would demand greater accountability for public safety. I, on the other hand, felt that you just needed to give the public time to forget, and then they'll go back to their attitude of slow-motion Galtization.
In the British case, I could more easily picture it becoming a shift in political thinking. For one thing, they have an aggressively left-leaning party with all the momentum, and a right-wing party that's in disarray on several fronts. But more than anything, the issue has become a class matter, with poor people feeling like this is a personal struggle. That's in sharp contrast to this side of the Atlantic, where the fury that's getting all the play is coming from the middle class.
A good symbol of the start of the shift is the call by Labour's Jeremy Corbyn to house the fire's homeless in the many empty houses in the area that are owned by absentee landlords. This has lead to one of those political situations where the two sides are so completely opposed that they are each trying to demonize the other simply by quoting their opponents, without even needing to exaggerate or twist their words. That's the point at which there is no doubt that there are different visions, rather than different spins on a general consensus, so it may well be that a lot of Britons have truly shifted their political sensibilities.
Sunday, April 3, 2016
Close The Pod Bay Doors
A few months back, I wrote about efforts to make new living arrangements that are more communal than the Western World's usual apartments-or-suburbs models. Well now there's a new contender that takes communal living to new levels. It's called PodShare
Everyone lives in one big room, in bunks - oh, I'm sorry: "pods." The bunks are open on the side, so they're even less private than Japan's infamous coffin hotels. In fact, the beds fold up to become desks in the day, meaning that: (a) you don't even have a place to retreat to during the day, and (b) you'll be working together with the same people you're living with.
One tweet described it as being like something out of Douglas Coupland's nightmares. That's a good description, but my first reaction was that it's like something from the grim near-future of cyberpunk, which often features people living in less-than-glamourous surroundings. So it was fitting that I read that Coupland comment when it was forwarded by William Gibson. So basically this place is a general nightmare for all of Canada's postmodern authors. could we work some sexism in too so Margaret Atwood can get involved? Well, they have banned sex in the pods, but the community is expected to police itself, which is a recipe for disaster if you ask me.
So you're living as close to your fellow humans as possible, but without having sex with them. Could it get any worse? Sure: it's in Los Angeles, so it's $900 a month, yet it may still be the only thing some people can afford.
The defenders are calling this an antidote to loneliness. That sounds noble, but it's not a real good solution to that problem. I've done a lot of research into loneliness, and I don't think the polar opposite is the answer. See, we all need a little bit of solitude, and a little bit of connection to others, but we each want different amounts of each. In my experience, people suffering from loneliness are more towards the "solitude" end of the spectrum. But, circumstances have given them more solitude than even they want. A person who's looking for a cure for loneliness would find this hyper-connected situation even worse. At best, this is a solution for people who are really close to the other end of the spectrum, and find that normal Western Society doesn't given them what they want.
Everyone lives in one big room, in bunks - oh, I'm sorry: "pods." The bunks are open on the side, so they're even less private than Japan's infamous coffin hotels. In fact, the beds fold up to become desks in the day, meaning that: (a) you don't even have a place to retreat to during the day, and (b) you'll be working together with the same people you're living with.
One tweet described it as being like something out of Douglas Coupland's nightmares. That's a good description, but my first reaction was that it's like something from the grim near-future of cyberpunk, which often features people living in less-than-glamourous surroundings. So it was fitting that I read that Coupland comment when it was forwarded by William Gibson. So basically this place is a general nightmare for all of Canada's postmodern authors. could we work some sexism in too so Margaret Atwood can get involved? Well, they have banned sex in the pods, but the community is expected to police itself, which is a recipe for disaster if you ask me.
So you're living as close to your fellow humans as possible, but without having sex with them. Could it get any worse? Sure: it's in Los Angeles, so it's $900 a month, yet it may still be the only thing some people can afford.
The defenders are calling this an antidote to loneliness. That sounds noble, but it's not a real good solution to that problem. I've done a lot of research into loneliness, and I don't think the polar opposite is the answer. See, we all need a little bit of solitude, and a little bit of connection to others, but we each want different amounts of each. In my experience, people suffering from loneliness are more towards the "solitude" end of the spectrum. But, circumstances have given them more solitude than even they want. A person who's looking for a cure for loneliness would find this hyper-connected situation even worse. At best, this is a solution for people who are really close to the other end of the spectrum, and find that normal Western Society doesn't given them what they want.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Hi-Res Monitor
In my last year of university, I remember a dormmate asking how we were going to deal with living in normal places. Here we were living in a very social format, but in the real world, everyone is very private.
Just so you don't get the wrong idea, our residence floor was hardly a stereotypical university living space. It was fairly restrained and nerdy even by the standards of the University of Waterloo. But still, it's a very different situation: you have a private room (or at least, as private as you want it to be) and pretty much everything else is communal. Compare that to my current apartment, where I don't know most of my floormate's names, much less organized late-night StarCraft tournaments with them.
My answer at the time was to point out that I had read about an experimental building where people were housed in more public circumstances. You get your own apartment, but there are also nice lounge areas outside to socialize with neighbours. I think it was in Vancouver (Big surprise.) I had the same worry about leaving the inclusive society of the university residence, and was a little scared of the lonely life of a single adult.
Today it's hard to believe I felt that way. When I imagine ideal accommodations, it's usually getting away from my neighbours, rather than getting closer to them. Maybe I've grown up, or maybe I've gotten used to a new paradigm. But I think it's a different reason: there's essentially two strategies for getting along with your neighbours: get friendly with them, or try to get away from them. Our residence was built on the first strategy, but most living circumstances in the western world are based on the latter.
But maybe things are changing. The Atlantic has an article about a company offering dorm-like accommodations to the general public. It's in Syracuse, New York (genuinely big surprise.) The article mostly looks at it from an angle that the concept appeals primarily to millennials - before pointing out that they've had interest from all ages. So perhaps there is hope for a new way of living, and an appetite for it.
Just so you don't get the wrong idea, our residence floor was hardly a stereotypical university living space. It was fairly restrained and nerdy even by the standards of the University of Waterloo. But still, it's a very different situation: you have a private room (or at least, as private as you want it to be) and pretty much everything else is communal. Compare that to my current apartment, where I don't know most of my floormate's names, much less organized late-night StarCraft tournaments with them.
My answer at the time was to point out that I had read about an experimental building where people were housed in more public circumstances. You get your own apartment, but there are also nice lounge areas outside to socialize with neighbours. I think it was in Vancouver (Big surprise.) I had the same worry about leaving the inclusive society of the university residence, and was a little scared of the lonely life of a single adult.
Today it's hard to believe I felt that way. When I imagine ideal accommodations, it's usually getting away from my neighbours, rather than getting closer to them. Maybe I've grown up, or maybe I've gotten used to a new paradigm. But I think it's a different reason: there's essentially two strategies for getting along with your neighbours: get friendly with them, or try to get away from them. Our residence was built on the first strategy, but most living circumstances in the western world are based on the latter.
But maybe things are changing. The Atlantic has an article about a company offering dorm-like accommodations to the general public. It's in Syracuse, New York (genuinely big surprise.) The article mostly looks at it from an angle that the concept appeals primarily to millennials - before pointing out that they've had interest from all ages. So perhaps there is hope for a new way of living, and an appetite for it.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Cellevator
It just occurred to me that in the year since I've had this (mobile) phone, I don't think I've used it in the elevator yet. That may seem like an odd thing to point out, I realize. But when I was non-mobile - on the tech outside looking in - the elevator was one of the prime places I saw people using their phones. Many people would whip the phone out before the doors had even closed, and be going through texts or tweets or something.
Elevators have always been awkward spaces for me; I'm unsure if I should start a conversation, or just watch the floors go by. Phones changed all that. I didn't have to worry about conversations when everyone else steps in and immediately buries their faces in their phones. I assumed I'd eagerly take up this behaviour too, but it never did happen. There never seems to be anything I can look up on the phone that can't wait the one minute until I get to my apartment.
Elevators have always been awkward spaces for me; I'm unsure if I should start a conversation, or just watch the floors go by. Phones changed all that. I didn't have to worry about conversations when everyone else steps in and immediately buries their faces in their phones. I assumed I'd eagerly take up this behaviour too, but it never did happen. There never seems to be anything I can look up on the phone that can't wait the one minute until I get to my apartment.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
It's Not A Delorean, But It Still Goes Back In Time
If, like me, you park in an underground parking garage, one odd experience you will have is that the atmosphere in your car will not change as fast as the air outside. For instance, if you're out driving on a hot, humid day, your car will have hot, humid air in it. If the weather changes overnight to be cold and breezy, you'll still have hot, humid air in your car. So you'll go from your warm apartment, walk through the underground garage - which is always cool and damp - get in the warm interior of your car, drive somewhere, say still wearing a t-shirt. When you get where you're going, you get out of the car, and only then realize that it's freezing out. It's particularly a problem in the spring when the temperature can fluctuate a lot. So if you see someone in the next few weeks driving around wearing clothes that don't seem right for the weather, just keep in mind that it's probably still yesterday in their car.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
If Everyone Else Had A Hammer
There are many things I don't understand about apartment living. Today I'm wondering: what is with the hammering? I find I often hear someone hammering something into the wall. It doesn't go on all the time, you understand. But I've had to hammer something into the walls maybe once a year, that doesn't nearly account for how often I hear people pounding the walls.
At least I'm assuming it's hammering. I know, you're thinking that it could be, um, another activity that may cause furniture (among other things) to bang into walls. I've thought of that, and given that I don't hear any of the associated noises, I'm assuming that's not it either. So what could it be? Do other people have way more art hanging on their walls than I do? Does someone enjoy a carpentry hobby in their one or two bedroom apartment?
At least I'm assuming it's hammering. I know, you're thinking that it could be, um, another activity that may cause furniture (among other things) to bang into walls. I've thought of that, and given that I don't hear any of the associated noises, I'm assuming that's not it either. So what could it be? Do other people have way more art hanging on their walls than I do? Does someone enjoy a carpentry hobby in their one or two bedroom apartment?
Monday, December 17, 2012
What We Have Here Is A Failure To Communicate
Saturday evening when I attempted to brush my teeth after dinner, I found that the water was out. That's not unusual in my building: though it's not old, there seems to be inordinate plumbing troubles, and the water gets shut off for repairs every few weeks. But that's planned for during a weekday; I've never experienced it going off without warning during a weekend or an evening.
So I start wondering: is this something with my apartment? My floor? The building? I figure this is a job for the super. I could have phoned her, but I've never bothered getting the number, so I head down to the ground floor.
After travelling a few floors down in the awkward silence of a crowded elevator, I decide to ask, "So, anyone have water problems?" Yep, that's why all of them are going down. Also awkward: the super was at the building's potluck that I had neglected to attend.
When I found her in the crowded lounge, my elevator posse and I didn't even have to explain why we were there. The super had already answered inquiries from many others and immediately gave us the same spiel: the whole building's water was out, and several nearby buildings as well, and the city was probably working on it but she couldn't get through to them to find out what was happening.
So I went back to my apartment to cross my legs and wait it out. I also checked the city utilities web page to see if they had any info, but it was just your basic page of unchanging general information. So I was still in the dark.
Which brings up something I find weird about our world: that there are still so many areas where we completely fail to get information out. The building's only way of communicating with tenants is notes on the elevator wall. That's fine for advertising, say, potlucks. But the only way we can get immediate info is in person or on the phone from the super, wasting her time either way.
As for the city, they just use their web page to offer rental water-heaters, when a quick note about current system status could alleviate our worries. And if a water emergency had led to a boil-water advisory, we probably wouldn't find out about it unless we see in on the local TV or radio station (in which case, I'm a goner.)
What's frustrating is that it wouldn't be too hard to fix all this. I'm not asking for any new technology or massive new expenditures. A few years ago it would have been expensive/time-consuming for a building to have its own web page. But now any idiot can have his own blog. (Pause for your jokes.) And it wouldn't be too hard for a city utility to tweet changes in the system's status.
And just so you know, the water wasn't out for much more than an hour. I take responsibility for fixing it: It was just as I got my coat and shoes on to go brave the pre-Christmas malls that I heard the water re-entering the building's pipes.
So I start wondering: is this something with my apartment? My floor? The building? I figure this is a job for the super. I could have phoned her, but I've never bothered getting the number, so I head down to the ground floor.
After travelling a few floors down in the awkward silence of a crowded elevator, I decide to ask, "So, anyone have water problems?" Yep, that's why all of them are going down. Also awkward: the super was at the building's potluck that I had neglected to attend.
When I found her in the crowded lounge, my elevator posse and I didn't even have to explain why we were there. The super had already answered inquiries from many others and immediately gave us the same spiel: the whole building's water was out, and several nearby buildings as well, and the city was probably working on it but she couldn't get through to them to find out what was happening.
So I went back to my apartment to cross my legs and wait it out. I also checked the city utilities web page to see if they had any info, but it was just your basic page of unchanging general information. So I was still in the dark.
Which brings up something I find weird about our world: that there are still so many areas where we completely fail to get information out. The building's only way of communicating with tenants is notes on the elevator wall. That's fine for advertising, say, potlucks. But the only way we can get immediate info is in person or on the phone from the super, wasting her time either way.
As for the city, they just use their web page to offer rental water-heaters, when a quick note about current system status could alleviate our worries. And if a water emergency had led to a boil-water advisory, we probably wouldn't find out about it unless we see in on the local TV or radio station (in which case, I'm a goner.)
What's frustrating is that it wouldn't be too hard to fix all this. I'm not asking for any new technology or massive new expenditures. A few years ago it would have been expensive/time-consuming for a building to have its own web page. But now any idiot can have his own blog. (Pause for your jokes.) And it wouldn't be too hard for a city utility to tweet changes in the system's status.
And just so you know, the water wasn't out for much more than an hour. I take responsibility for fixing it: It was just as I got my coat and shoes on to go brave the pre-Christmas malls that I heard the water re-entering the building's pipes.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Too Cool For Fools
There are signs up in our buildings instructing people not to use their air conditioners, because it is too cold. Today, it was a high of 6°C (that would be 43°F) which has me asking the obvious question: what kind of an idiot is still running their air conditioner in this weather?
I was amazed enough at the start of summer when they needed a sign telling people to keep their windows closed when the AC is on, and not to set it lower than 19°. That's pretty cold: no one I know is as bothered by hot weather as I am, yet I'm perfectly happy to keep it set at 24°. I can't imagine why any non-penguinoid lifeform would want it that cold.
So this is another in the I-can't-believe-they-have-to-tell-people-that file, along with:
I was amazed enough at the start of summer when they needed a sign telling people to keep their windows closed when the AC is on, and not to set it lower than 19°. That's pretty cold: no one I know is as bothered by hot weather as I am, yet I'm perfectly happy to keep it set at 24°. I can't imagine why any non-penguinoid lifeform would want it that cold.
So this is another in the I-can't-believe-they-have-to-tell-people-that file, along with:
- clean up anything you spill in front of the garbage chute
- don't throw anything off the balcony
- don't let your dogs do their business directly in front of the entrance.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Don't Trust the X in Apartment 23
About a week ago, my building's super passed out a sheet of contact information for us to fill out. That's pretty funny in itself - the people who run the building where we live need to know how to get in contact with us. It's also a nice bit of nostalgia that they want us to fill in information by writing on paper. No web site, no QR code to find the web site, just a paper form. And not even a place to write in our e-mail address.
But what's interesting is that they taped it to our doors to ensure it didn't get lost. And now, a week later, a few of them are still affixed to the doors on my floor. That has me wondering: Have these people really not been out in over a week? They could be empty apartments. But there isn't much oversupply in the city's rental market. It could just be that they can't be bothered to fill out the form, so they've left it there. But then, I've also seen other stuff - like phone books - left at apartment doors for long periods of time.
I'm not sure what to make of this. There are a lot of seniors in this building, they could have a quiet life without much activity. But the seniors are surprisingly active, even if it's only strolling down the hallway. It's not a subsidised building, so the mystery renters must have some sort of income. They also have to plan their grocery purchase well: none of my shopping without a list, oh, I can run out again in a few days if I forget something.
So I've pieced together this idea of a well-organised telecommuter with a zen-like satisfaction with solitude. That makes me feel better. Or I can just take solace in not being the most anti-social person on my floor.
But what's interesting is that they taped it to our doors to ensure it didn't get lost. And now, a week later, a few of them are still affixed to the doors on my floor. That has me wondering: Have these people really not been out in over a week? They could be empty apartments. But there isn't much oversupply in the city's rental market. It could just be that they can't be bothered to fill out the form, so they've left it there. But then, I've also seen other stuff - like phone books - left at apartment doors for long periods of time.
I'm not sure what to make of this. There are a lot of seniors in this building, they could have a quiet life without much activity. But the seniors are surprisingly active, even if it's only strolling down the hallway. It's not a subsidised building, so the mystery renters must have some sort of income. They also have to plan their grocery purchase well: none of my shopping without a list, oh, I can run out again in a few days if I forget something.
So I've pieced together this idea of a well-organised telecommuter with a zen-like satisfaction with solitude. That makes me feel better. Or I can just take solace in not being the most anti-social person on my floor.
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