Monday, October 11, 2010

Cranial Rectosis

This graphic shows the foreclosures along a short section of my Franklin Blvd. (my blogs namesake):



Housal unit foreclosures are still coming in for South Sacramento at the rate of 145 per month. You can fill in a coupla more white squares with red on this two-mile wide swath over the next several years, methinks.

Note the large, empty chunk of land at the extreme bottom left corner. Two years ago our county supervisors were wet-dreaming about Delta Shores, another massive 5,200 suburban-housal-pod shithole with 1.3 million feet of strip retail...a "plan" to convert all that wasted space into asphalt, consumption depots, and low density suburban living. An extension of South Sacramento, who in their right mind could believe this "development" won't also turn to liquid shit by 2040? At the corner of Franklin and Consumnes River Blvd., not two miles from my own housal unit should be Light Rail's Franklin Station. It's been planned, designed, vetted through environmental and neighborhood review...but now stalled for some five plus years...to be forgotten about, to suffer the same fate as the second New Jersey tunnel project. It's projected cost in 2007 to deliver a light rail station from the Meadowview station was $1,000 per inch. If/when we apply the necessary ointment to cure our chronic case of cranial rectosis for having squandered such a grand opportunity to build public transit to an existing population willing to ride it, it's gonna cost us $1,750 an inch if/when we ever get around to it. 2025 is my guess. Right as I retire.

If South Sacramento, home of many of the poorest of our residents in the county, suffered the most foreclosures because people can't make their mortgage payments, perhaps many of them might have been able to afford housal unit expenses by eliminating their goddamn car if there existed a viable public transit option.

But perhaps not. Many in this region, clearly, owned some smashing bling before the crash. You never seen so much chrome, the lowest, lowest! profile tires and thumpin' sounds. Nowadays they are riding around in their parent's '93 POS Ford Falcon, living in one of those white boxes.

Not one of the red ones.

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