Three years ago when I first moved down to Denver, I went looking for a dentist as I hadn’t been in some time.  I looked up the providers my dental insurance covered and picked a female dentist that practiced close to my home.  I went to this dentist who told me I needed 3 new crowns, and 7 fillings.  She said it would take around 6 hours to do all that work and said she could offer me sedation for the long time it would take.  I was upset when I came home from that appointment, but I was also something else: skeptical. 

One of the crowns this dentist said I needed was a replacement for a crown I’d had put in two years prior,  so I looked it up (which I do with EVERYTHING).  Dr. Google said crowns usually last at least 10 years, and can last a lifetime.  This got me thinking: how do I know anything she told me is actually the case?  She could make up whatever she wanted about my teeth and just assume I would trust it since she was the trained dentist and I wasn’t.  With me of course, this is dead, dead wrong–I require proof for everything.  So I made an appointment with my old, trusted dentist in Fort Collins and drove up there to have him take a look at my teeth.  Guess what he said?  I didn’t need any work.  None. At. All.

This turn of events deeply shocked and depressed me.  What was more concerning however, was the fact that this dishonest dentist had her wall lined with pictures of the Medicaid kids she treated: how many of those kids got dental work they didn’t need so she could make a buck?  I reported her to the American Dental Association, but I’m sure they didn’t do anything about it.  I haven’t been back to a dentist since.

Recently a new dentist opened in my neighborhood.  Their office is a 5 minute walk from my home.  Multiple neighbors have gone and all have spoken highly of this dentist, so I decided to make an appointment.  When I was on the phone with the receptionist, I gave her my name and we were working out the details of the appointment when she said “Oh, hold on a second, he wants to speak to you”.  The dentist then got on the line. “Hi, I’m Dr. “X” and I recognized your name from [my neighborhood’s] internet board, I just wanted to introduce myself”.  I thought this was really nice and thoughtful, but I also realized something else: this person knows I know everyone in my neighborhood.  They also therefore know if they try to pull any crap like the last dentist I visited that I will tell everyone in my neighborhood and they will lose significant business.  I currently don’t have dental insurance so will be paying cash, but the social capital in my neighborhood is covering something much more important to me: piece of mind.

One of my neighbors, her house is a black hole for pets.  They go in but they don’t come out (alive anyway, or they are brought there for burial already dead).  Apprently she had some friends visiting with their two rather boisterous canines.  I’m unsure how (I was afraid to ask for the details-yeach), but the dogs somehow got to her daughter’s new pet guinea pig, and dogs, well being predators….lets just say Piggies’ stay in my friend’s household was shortened. So Piggie went into the garden, buried in a dog treat box (the final insult I’d imagine), next to my friend’s friend’s boa constrictor.  Piggie did however, get the benefit of another recitation of the Clark Griswold’s eulogy for Aunt Edna.

I don’t think my friend ever plans on moving, but if she does, I hope the next people to buy her house aren’t gardeners. If they are, they are surely going to wonder about the former residents once they starting tilling the new perennial bed.  

Anyone who’s been at home with small children for more than a few days in a row knows the truth–it’s boring as hell.  Despite the popular cultural myth that parenthood (especially motherhood) is an all encompassing blissfest, it actually is sheer drudgery most of the time.  Some of this mythos has fortunately been dispelled by mommy bloggers who tell it like it is, but the fact remains–many new moms and dads who stay at home with their kids are shocked at how boring and isolating it can be. 

This is where a new urbanist neighborhood comes in handy.  Getting kids loaded and unloaded into a car (especially if you have more than one) is a pain in the ass, but if you live in most of suburbia, you have to do this ulcer inducing act multiple times a day because you can’t walk to anything.  In a new urbanist neighborhood, you can toss the kids in a stroller, and walk outside to get a cup of coffee, or buy flowers, or just get outside around other people so you don’t feel so isolated.  Or you can walk easily to a pocket park and let the kids run around or dig in the dirt, greeting neighbors along the way. 

Once the kids get a little older, they can have some freedom kids in a sprawldivision don’t have–they don’t have to rely on mom and dad taxi service to get somewhere interesting.  Older kids in Bradburn can easily walk to get ice cream, to 10 different parks, to school, to stores to buy candy and other sundries.  In an isolated subdivision, kids can’t get anywhere on their own–it’s too dangerous because the place is designed for people in cars, not on foot or bicycles. They can’t get anywhere except another street of endless similar beige houses, this deprives them of the ability to develop some independence and skills they will need as an adult.

Now, there is a caveat the this.  New urbanist neighborhoods are perfect for families IF they contain single family homes.  This isn’t to say that families can’t live happily in townhomes or condos, but the fact is most couples with kids want a single family detatched home with a yard (even a small yard)–the majority of construction in the U.S. housing market is single family homes for a reason: demand.  Many new urbanist neighborhoods contain single family homes, but I’ve noticed lately that many new ones coming up–especially transit oriented developments–have only townhomes and condos, no single family.  While the market needs these too, there should be a balance between these and new urbanist developments that offer single family homes–believe me, people will buy them, and once they experience how great it is living in a new urbanist neighborhood with kids, they won’t ever go back to a sprawldivision.

Before Bradburn Village was built, our developer, Continuum Partners, had a company conduct a marketing study on what demographics would be attracted to a higher density, walkable mixed-use neighborhood smack dab in the middle of standard Denver suburban sprawl.  This study apparently concluded that families wouldn’t really be into Bradburn (I’m unsure who they thought would be–DINKs and retirees I guess).   This is a common misconception about new urbanisim–families don’t want it, they only want single family homes on huge lots seperated from their neighbors, with a backyard that will fit a full size trampoline and play set their kids will use a few times a year.  

Bradburn Village certainly refutes this theory, after sales started our developer realized the market study was wrong–90% of the single family homes (all with much smaller yards than a standard subdivision) were purchased by families, mostly families with young kids.   Continuum–to their credit–altered the plans for our community pool to include a kid pool in response to the surprising demographics of the new urbanist neighborhood they created.

As I–and all my neighbors with kids–have found, new urbanist neighborhoods are the IDEAL place for kids for several reasons.  First, the design of the neighborhood fosters social interaction so you know your neighbors, and they know you and your kids.  I know that if my daughter is out playing, there are a bunch of other adults out there she can trust, and who would help her during an emergency (and all who have my phone number), or who would chastise her if she were doing something she shouldn’t be–and yes, I want my neighbors to correct her if she does something she shouldn’t.

An extension of the social nature of my new urbanist neighborhood–I have help and support from other parents whenever I need it.  When I lived in a standard sprawldivision my daughter was an infant.  I felt stranded on the moon, I didn’t know any of my neighbors and felt so isolated and depressed, I felt like I was all on my own.  It sucked.  Here, if my kid is driving me nuts, we can just walk outside and find other people to have fun with, or I can walk to a neighbor’s house who also has kids so they can play.  In an emergency, the social capital here really comes into play. 

Last year a neighbor’s husband was out of town for work and she was at home with her 3 kids (all under 5).   With the uncanny timing all kids seem to have, two of her kids became very sick with rotovirus and had to go to the hospital.  I got a phone call from another neighbor who was watching kid #3 saying my neighbor with kids in the hospital needed her cell phone charger because she had left it at home.  So, I went over to another neighbor’s house, left my kid with them, took the cell phone charger to the hospital, and stayed to help out until my neighbor’s parents could get there.  After it was over the kids were all fine, and I counted five neighbors who had helped during this emergency.  This is the kind of thing families really, really need, and which is so sorely lacking today in the alienation of standard sprawl (especially since so many people now live far away from relatives).

This post is getting long, so I’ll stop here and continue on this thread next week.

How do you estimate the value of community?

In the United States, we know how to appraise houses.  We can figure out what they are worth based on their physical characterisics: so many square feet, so many bathrooms, so many bedrooms.   The value of individual assets is easy for Americans to figure out and understand.  In every home magazine on the shelf, you see countless fabulous homes with meticulous decorating.  What you don’t see-pretty much ever–is the neighborhood the home is in.  The reason?  Most neighborhoods aren’t anything special because they were built the cheapest/fastest/easiest way possible.  Individual houses are fabulous because their owners care about them, and pour love, money, and attention into them.  This almost never happens on a public scale. The focus in U.S. real estate market is on the individual home, not the wider public sphere in which it exists.  That’s why real estate porn–the shelter mags–sell so well.

I recently read a great book “It’s a Sprawl World After All” by Douglas E. Morris which is primarily about the human social costs of sprawl.  There’s a section that talks about the often unrecognized burden of being around strangers all day long.  Because uses are so separated in sprawl, you have to visit many different places (by car of course) to get your daily needs, which means you can be around people all day who don’t know you.  We’ve created a physical landscape that makes us a nation of strangers.  Being recognized the book says, has a positive effect on our sense of well being and our sense of who we are in the world.  I couldn’t agree more.  I’ve noticed this dramatic effect in my own neighborhood.  I walk out the door to do anything and I always see and talk to many people who know me, and I know them.  It provides a sense of satisfaction and safety that pervades my life in this new urbanist neighborhood.  I firmly believe the thoughtful design of my neighborhood made this possible, there’s a real sense of place here.  (The only negative of this?  If you walk anywhere to do anything in Bradburn Village it will take 1 hour longer than you planned because you stop to chat with your neighbors).

This “sense of place” is composed of a variety of things: a design focus on people not cars, many well designed public spaces in my neighborhood where people go frequently to interact, the fact that all the homes are different so everyone has a strong sense of their space, and others–not just another beige house in a sea of sameness.   This is a priceless asset of my neighborhood, but realtors don’t know how to sell it, people who are used to seeing the same beige sprawl often don’t understand it, and thus the value of this is sometimes lost on people who don’t live here.

I bought that book in the new urbanist neighborhood of Celebration (in Florida) in a little independent bookstore owned by people who live in the community.  While I was sitting there reading, a customer walked in and purchased a book.  The owner of the store said “If you like I can just deliver it to your porch when it comes in”.  That kind of person to person connection, which is lost in sprawl for the most part, is more valuable than all the extra square feet in a standard McMansion subdivision.  

A 2,000 sq foot home with 3 bedrooms, 2.5 bathrooms in Bradburn Village: $360,000.  Knowing all your neighbors: Priceless.

My mom is the guest blogger today, she’s written a bit about the difference between my neighborhood–Bradburn Village in Westminster, Colorado where she spends her summers–and her retirement community, Pebble Creek, in Goodyear Arizona where she spends her winters.  Why they don’t have new urbanist retirement communities I don’t know.

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I’ve just returned from Colorado where I spent the summer in relative coolness – weather wise and major coolness neighborhood wise with my daughter, son in law and granddaughter.  They live in a new urbanist community and I spend winters in a retirement community in Arizona.  The difference is staggering.

While I have access to two spectacular clubhouses, pools, lap pools, workout rooms, tennis courts, bocce courts, golf courses, a state of the art theater, art studio,  in-house library, video rental and on and on, they have access to each other.

Any  day, I could  step out of the carriage house, my home away from home, and be greeted by a neighbor or two.  I never made it all the way to the pocket park, at the end of the block, without someone greeting me or joining me with their kids and/or dogs.  I loved it. Many times we walked to dinner at the local eatery or strolled to the local ice cream store.  Invariably we ran into neighbors enjoying their porches or just out walking the neighborhood kids and dogs in tow.

If only the developer of my community had thought about this in the planning stages, my community would have been perfect.  As it is, I love it, but I have to drive to the clubhouse to swim or play tennis or to participate in any activities.  I cannot walk to dinner or expect to see my neighbors sitting on their porch.  We don’t have any. We have very nice, beige houses that all look the same on very clean streets that all look the same – not a good idea when most of us don’t remember why we walked into a room, let alone a neighborhood.

I make sure my visitors have cell phones so they can call me when they get lost trying to find my house in the community or when they are out walking the neighborhood and can’t find the way home because every house looks the same.  I also tell them to knock on the closest door and ask the resident how to get back home. 

Without exception, all our residents are friendly and very helpful when a stranger shows up looking perplexed – we are all used to it.  Besides – that’s the only way to meet people in the neighborhood without getting in the car or golf cart.

Neighbor A had a crappy cheap builder sink that was chipped and she hated.  Neighbor B’s husband is a great contractor, can install/fix anything.  Neighbor A had Neighbor B’s husband install new sink, and he offered her a choice of caulking colors.  Not realizing caulking came in colors, Neighbor A selected black for her nice, new sink and was very happy with the results.  Neighbor A saw Neighbor B walking across the street and wanted to let her know what she thought of her husband’s great handiwork, so she opened her front door and yelled out across the street at the top of her lungs,

“I LOVE BLACK CAULK!”

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Said to me at a party:

“Yeah, I left the reservation for a birthday party the other day and I’m never doing it again”

 When you live this close to your neighbors, you better behave yourself

Let me start by saying 95-99% of people are nice, fun, reasonable and great neighbors.  Then there’s the rest.  Every neighborhood has them: the nutbags, the jerks, the clueless, the just plain unpleasant people who bitch about EVERYTHING.  The difference is, in a new urbanist neighborhood (well, at least mine), everyone knows who these people are.  Quickly.  Design that fosters social interaction means people are frequently out in public, assholes included.

My suspicion is, in a sterile, non-interacting subdivision, these people are relativley unknown (unless they are really extreme).  I was discussing this blog post with a neighbor at one of our events last night and she commented that “as long as they mow their lawn, no one will know what an asshole they are” in a non social neighborhood. They can hide in a way–not so in a community that interacts all the time.  I swear a pin can’t drop in my neighborhood without everyone knowing about it in short order.  There are pluses and minuses to this.  One of the pluses is that people who can’t behave themselves in a community move.  A community as social as mine (and other new urbanist neighborhoods I’ve heard) is somewhat self-selecting.  Sounds a little Orwellian, but frankly it works in our favor.  So, if you’re an asshole, do yourself (and us) a favor and move either to acreage, or to a faceless, anonymous beige subdivision where your jerkery will go unnoticed.

Dear Lawn,

What the hell do you want from me?  I aerate, fertilize, weed, mow, trim, use $60 of water on you a month and you still look like crap.  You only exist because of my HOA and if I find a way around that, you are dead I’m telling you.  I sweat and worry and you give me a lackluster performance which is embarrassing. I have a master’s in ecology–specifically grass ecology, don’t you know that? And I’m a gardener to boot, you are damaging my street cred in the ‘hood.   You take more work than all my perennials combined and you are only about 1,000 square feet.   I specifically chose a house in a new urbanist neighborhood with small lawns because I don’t need the stress of trying to maintain a species that needs three times the amount of precipitation we get here in the semi-arid grassland of the Front Range.  So you know what?  I give up.  You can look bad if you want, I’ll spend the time I save not working on you on my pretty flowers such as indian blanket that know how to treat a person who loves them. Screw you, lawn.

My neighbor related this hilarious story last night:

Her husband had to get a physical and he was looking over the doctor’s orders.  He noticed “digital rectal exam” on the list and was impressed, and commented something to the effect of:

“Look honey, they now do these digitally, it must be a scan or something, Thank God for technology!”  His wife–who is in healthcare–gave him a look, put her index finger in a hook, and wiggling it said,

“It’s ‘digital’ not ‘digital’”

When they were both relating this story his defense was “Well, I’m a technologically savvy guy right, I was thinking digital, you know 1001001!”.

The next neighborhood over heard us all laughing