River of Rip-offs

Many years ago I used to drive from Kerrville to visit downtown San Antonio. Those were the days before IH-10 existed. The drive was somewhat harrowing because Highway 27 was only two lanes, and to pass was to take your life in your hands. But it was worth it. Downtown San Antonio was a welcoming place in those days. First, I would park in the Joske’s Department Store lot—free for two hours if you validated your ticket. (I would buy a little something at Joske’s just out of courtesy.)

Then it was out to Commerce Street and straight to Brock’s Used Book Store —three stories of a glorious mish-mash of books ranging from obscure old novels to WWII tomes on “Why We Fight.” There were sometimes wonderful jewels buried under crumbling Boy Scout manuals.

After Brock’s it was back to Joske’s, with a stop at Schilo’s Delicatessen for a plate of knockwurst and sauerkraut, washed down with icy root beer. One more trip through Joske’s, and then over to Rosengren’s Book Store, the finest literary book store in the Southwest. (I eventually was privileged to work there.) Finally, I would return to Kerrville with a satisfied glow from contact with a wider world.

Boy, have things changed. The present city regime positively discourages citizens of San Antonio from venturing downtown. Parking rates are outrageous; from $8 to $18 depending on what’s happening downtown.  You can try to evade such institutionalized avarice by parking further out, but then you risk your car being burglarized and damaged. (It has happened to me twice.)

The reward for your efforts? How about expensive food, and bottles of drinking water from $1.75 to $5 per? The River Walk has become a diminished afterthought enclosed by dark cavernous walls of hotels on either side. Tourists are piled into pricey barges and run around the golden loop of restaurants. It’s like some commercial Grand Canyon sans geological charm. See the river? Here’s your bill. ’Bye!

Rivercenter Mall is no great shakes for local folks. Why bother to go down there and pay excessive parking while enduring the incessant construction?  It is devoid of vibrancy. There are no exuberant shoppers bearing purchases. People don’t look particularly happy. It’s a closely managed play world, which looks careworn. We have managed to take a wonderful (more or less) natural feature and turn it into a dead Disneyland.

When tourists go back to their hotel rooms, they pay some of the highest room taxes in the state. Should they want to tour on their own, they pay outrageous taxes on rental cars. We welcome visitors by fleecing them like a horde of bar girls in an old-time mining town.

These people are our guests, for crying out loud. If honored guests entered your home, would you charge them for dinner? Even if you did, would you jack the price up to scandalous heights or charge them to use the bathroom? This greedy behavior is shameful and disgusting.

But, hey, our local government is quite willing to turn that avaricious leer on us, too. Keep in mind one of the unspoken rules of modern urban government: always has a huge, grandiose project in the works. The idea is to dazzle voters (i.e. taxpayers); to blow glamour dust into their faces until they agree:  “yes, our future well being and happiness depends on this!”

Our record of city-endorsed projects is not exactly sterling.  Remember Henry Cisneros’ three story pink monstrosity of a mall that was supposed to “save” the West Side? It didn’t. Eventually it was torn down and salt was strewn about the site. Few can even recall its name: Fiesta Plaza. (Or as some cynics called it, the Pepto-Bis Mall—a reference to its ghastly color.) I remember it, because when they were tearing it down they found the mummified corpse of some homeless bum on the third floor. That seemed to sum up the project.

Or how about Henry’s crowning glory—the Alamodome. Remember the glorious future it foretold? Look at it now. The Spurs are long gone. Now it provides space for school children to get free flu shots. I hear even the plumbing is failing. The city-builders poured millions into such projects, and used their minions in the private sector to convince voters to support ill-conceived, expensive boondoggles.

City leaders are always looking for trendy capital projects that sound good. They love the words “green” and “universal,” meaning the minority victims of the month can join in. Surely people will fork over millions for such good causes. And if they don’t, we can denounce them as racist, fascist, homophobic, xenophobic despoilers of nature.

Better yet, such projects give politicians an image boost, so the people will love them and shove gobs of cash at them to insure they have the huge pensions and expense accounts so necessary to managing a progressive metropolis.

Just such a project is presently setting the hearts of city pols and bureaucrats aflutter. It is called the HemisFair Park Area Redevelopment Corporation (HPARC), and it’s creation is the “Master Plan Study for HemisFair Park and Surrounding Area,” which outlines, as vaguely as possible, what the committee of political appointees plans to do. Please note, no costs are mentioned in the HPARC’s literature.

There is nothing like going back to the basics. The call for proposals is filled with somber promises like this: “The vision for the redevelopment of HemisFair is to create a vital mixed use area, centered on a city park which maintains and revitalizes the historic buildings while reconnecting the area to the adjacent neighborhoods and providing new mixed use development…” Blah, blah, blah, etc.

Why not just call for solar-powered unicorns and fairies?