An Evil Wind Blows

One of the rude jokes among residents of the Coachella Valley concerns the aroma sometimes pushing up from the South. Once again, it’s another fish die-off at the Salton Sea. Over the years, there have been enough newspaper articles about the fish kills, rank odors and morbid housing scene along its shores that no one would want to venture down there at any time.

That’s too bad because the Salton Sea is a fascinating area teaming with wild life and tired old relics of a bygone era of oceanic fun. It’s well worth a trip south from the refined communities that make up the greater Coachella Valley area. Of course, speaking like a native, in the twenty-four years we’ve been coming to Palm Springs, I hadn’t ventured down there myself for the first ten years. Ignorance was bliss and I was blissful…and wrong.

The Salton Sea is California’s largest lake measuring more than 35 miles long and 15 miles wide in spots. It has a surface area of over 380 square miles and sits at 332 feet below sea level. The sea was created back in 1905 as the result of an accidental break in a canal cut into the Colorado River. For 16 months, the river ran unchecked into the lowest area around; the salt basin which became the Salton Sea.

But it wasn’t the first time that the area had seen a large body of water. Thousands of years earlier, Cahuilla and other California Indians occupied those lands. When they first arrived, the Salton Sink held a much larger body of water – ancient Lake Cahuilla. Geologists estimate the sea has appeared and then disappeared about every 400-500 years.

After the Indians, came the first settlers and railroad men who built a line of the Southern Pacific Railroad through a part of the sea. Nearby agriculture began to grow in what is now the communities of Coachella, Thermal and Mecca.

By the mid-fifties, the Salton Sea had become a major recreational water resort area for Southern California. But two hurricanes; Kathleen in 1976 and Doreen in 1977, caused such wide-spread damage to neighboring farm lands that the runoff caused a major increase in the salinity of the sea. That, in turn, caused major fish-kills and bird-kills and created such a major issue with noxious odors that residential development came to a stop.

Today the salinity level of the sea stands at 45 ppt. Only the tilapia fish is able to survive in such waters. While fishing is still good for the tilapia, fish kills continue to plague the area with their harsh smells.

Along the northeastern edge of the Salton Sea lies one of the world’s most important winter stops for migrating birds traveling the Pacific Flyway. The migration begins in October and by January more than 400 species of migrating birds fill the skies above the sea. By the end of May, the birds have moved on.

Like any other large natural area in California, there is much more than just the sea in the Salton Sea area. Over the centuries the fragile ecosystem of the area has provided sanctuary to an extremely diverse collection of wildlife and the critical habitats that support and nurture them.

For example, the sea holds millions of fish that feed the masses of wintering birds, including herons, egrets, brown and white pelicans, and kingfishers. In the fall, birds of prey arrive. Among them are peregrine falcons, osprey, and ferruginous hawks.

The fields and wetlands adjacent to the sea support huge flocks of snow geese, ducks, sandhill cranes and California’s largest population of burrowing owls.

Plans to reclaim the sea and turn it back into a major recreational area have begun and stalled dozens of times over the years. But in 1998, Congress finally passed the Salton Sea Reclamation Act directing the Secretary of the Interior to prepare a feasibility study on restoration of the Salton Sea. Slowly but surely, progress is being made to turn the tide in that direction.

The Salton Sea and its immediate vicinity have many recreational activities to offer, including: camping, bird watching, fishing, hiking, boating; use of personal watercraft; hunting and off-roading.

It will take years, perhaps decades before the sea might possibly return to its past glory. More feasibility studies are being made, more funding is being sought and grand schemes hatched. The possibilities for commerce, recreation and development are enormous. Talk of Lithium fields suddenly discovered have a lot of politicians licking their lips. Time will tell.

Until then the Salton Sea is a magical place for walk the shoreline, observe the birds, and time your visit to avoid the smell. A small price for a wonderful watery treasure in the middle of the desert.

Ranches, Rowhouses, and Railroad Flats

Apartment living is back in vogue now. Actually it never went out of style. It just changed and evolved along with changing mores and lifestyles and current economic trends. Apartment living, just like city living, is especially in fashion among millennials. Of course, it doesn’t help that the starting price for a starter home now hovers between $400,000 to $500,000 in many parts of the country.

Major, mid-sized and even smaller cities are now being peppered with apartment projects where once condos held supreme. San Francisco seems to be leading the charge with its infusion of the ‘creative class’ and escapees from Silicon Valley.

Even though apartment living ebbed and flowed with evolving lifestyle choices and tastes, it has always been a part of the American lexicon ever since its inception before the 1700s. Actually, it was even before that period in American history with the pueblos of the southwest and Mayan cities further down south.

It’s no different around the world. Until recently in Europe, apartment living had been the norm for centuries. Multiple generations often lived in the same building. When I was hanging around Amsterdam in the mid-60’s, my good friend lived with his parents and girlfriend in first floor apartment, his grandparents occupied the second floor and an aunt and uncle were on the third floor.

For the most part, America had been a country of apartment dwellers up until the end of World War II. In her book entitled: Ranches, Rowhouses and Railroad Flats, author Christine Hunter chronicled the evolution of various American housing forms and the ways they shaped and limited the neighborhoods surrounding them.

After World War Two and for almost sixty years, home ownership was the zenith of success that many families strived to achieve. Burning their mortgage papers after the last final payment became a ritual that many of our parents and grandparents enjoyed. But the recession of 2008 and a different attitude among millennials changed the perception of home ownership and shifted desires toward more freedom of movement, downtown living and less perceived value in home ownership.

Like most cyclical trends, apartment ownership has grown and, in turn, waned over the decades. There was a period in the early 80’s when apartment buildings in the Twin Cities were apprecia-ting at a very fast rate. Then tax changes by the Regan Administration eliminated many tax exemptions and other lucrative benefits of investment properties. Values plummeted and real estate was no longer a foolproof way to make money.

Yet the basics of apartment management never changed. In fact, I even wrote a book about just that fact. Aside from the financial matters, managing apartment units really boils down to observing another person’s life under the microscope. It’s like studying the socio-economic behavior of subjects who pay you for your efforts. You can’t help but notice their living conditions, eating habits, mating habits and general lifestyle.

For an introvert like myself, thrust into the lives of other people, there seemed to be just one business model that would work. It was driven by one simple philosophy. The idea that the owner of the building was not dealing with rental property or investment property or apartments for that matter. To my way of thinking, the obligation of a landlord is one of providing safe and clean homes for the residents. Semantics aside, it was an important differentiation.  In the same light, it meant thinking of the folks living in those units as residents instead of renters or tenants.

But business is still business. Both parties understood their respective responsibilities. The landlord-renter agreement wasn’t a benevolent relationship. Residents paid the landlord for a place to live. The landlord’s part of the bargain was to provide a safe and clean living environment. He wasn’t their boss but he wasn’t their pal either. Hopefully they saw him as a nice guy who was fair but firm and one who responded quickly to their relevant concerns.

I was in the rental business for more than thirty years. Over that period of time and because of the transient nature of young folks, I dealt with more than several hundred renters. Ninety-eight percent of them were fantastic folks whom I’d rent to again in a heartbeat. In fact, there are several that still exchange Christmas cards with us each year.

                                    

What I learned over the years can be reduced to one simple sentence. ‘Treat your residents and their units with respect and not as rental property.’ If you do that, 98% of your folks will respond in kind. It was a philosophy that served me well.

While I’ve moved on with my life, that philosophy has served me well in a myriad of other exchanges with my readers, business clients, friends, associates and family. They are simply good words to live by.

Can't Get Candy from a Hardware Store

I have a dear friend who said trying to get love from her alcoholic mother was like trying to get candy from a hardware store. It just wasn’t there. Because of her disease, the woman’s mother was emotionally unavailable. And nothing was going to change that.

Then, there is a man I know who is still trying to convince his father that he can make something of himself despite his father’s misgivings. That fellow is still trying to prove himself even though his father has been dead for over thirty years.

Another man, who was always the obedient son, doing everything his father demanded of him, is struggling with the fact that he never talked to his late father about what he missed out on growing up. As a boy, he never had a life beyond doing work around the house and other chores. When he asked permission to play sports, he was told he wasn’t working hard enough. Now the boy/man hates himself for never standing up to his father. He can’t force himself to face those long simmering issues that still prick at his subconscious. And he carries those issues with him like an anvil around his neck. Still trying to resolve why he cowered under the shadow of his domineering father who has long since passed on.

Over the years, I’ve encountered a surprising number of adults who are still waiting for something from their parents. Whether it be love, approval, acceptance or recognition. Unfortunately, their parents never gave them (as children and young adults) what they needed most or deserved growing up. And now it’s too late.

The generation before mine had a far different take on raising children than my friends and I did.  By my own crude calculations, that inability to communicate and show support for their kids is a hallmark for far too many folks of that (greatest) generation. 

Certainly, the Great Depression, World War Two and a multitude of other factors may have played into their inability to see their own children as something other than objects to “be seen and not heard.” Unfortunately, their adult children are still waiting for something, anything, to show them that their parents cared. Something that will never come.

I was raised by a single parent whose strong faith and devotion to ‘the norm’ took precedence over parental communication and affection. The parent-child bonding experiences were never there. And no amount of wishful thinking can ever bring them back. I am amazed at the number of folks my age who have experienced the same thing.

I guess the only way to heal that wound, which can never be fully healed, is through your own children and grandchildren. To make sure the missteps of your parents don’t affect your own emotional connection with your adult children and grandchildren. But, trying to repair the past doesn’t end there.

Photo courtesy of Jerry Hoffman

The inexplicable demise of some past friendships or relationships can also leave a gash on your sensitivity that is difficult to heal. Of course, everyone agrees that it’s all part of that wonderful yet confusing apparition called life. Whatever it was that we once shared was either lost or worse yet, just faded away. Of course, many of us expected our involvement with others to last forever or at least to be reciprocal. But life isn’t fair and friendships and relationships don’t always turn out the way we want them to. Or hoped they would.

It might have been some artificial environment, which almost by accident, threw a group of us together for some brief collection of memories and then dissipated as time and events pushed us apart and onto other milestones in our lives. Reconnecting with old friends and acquaintances after an extended period of time can be very difficult. Out of my high school graduating class of 250, I’ve reconnected with just three old friends. I’ve tried several others but it just wasn’t there.

Of course, there are always exceptions.

Years ago, on a return trip to Maryland, I reconnected with an old friend after thirty-five years apart. We both worked at Maryland Public Television back in the 70s. I met his wife for the first time and we shared a wonderful evening watching the sunset slide over the Naval Academy on the Severn River. We regaled one another with war stories from our PTV years and we did the obligatory “How I met my wife” scenario. We shared our respective plans for retirement and agreed to continue writing to one another.

But that kind of renewal of an old acquaintance is rare.

So, I guess if you can’t reconnect with those folks, then be grateful for the brief time spent together, perhaps the love embraced or friendship shared once upon a time. And realize that life does go on. Remember the good and the bad, the pleasure and the pain, forgive the sadness and move on with the memories. I embrace the sadness because that is a part of the equation. I hope I am a better man for it. I can only hope they feel the same way too.

What once was or wasn’t between our parents and ourselves is over. What was wrong can’t be made right. But it can be set aside. We all carry baggage from our past even when it contains some lighter moments along with the heavy ones too.

With my own grandchildren, I know it will be different. I can’t change my past but I can affect their future. The circle is already broken. It happened on my watch.