During a recent visit with my family, I vowed never again to drive my car to work. Well, at least as little as possible. They looked at me as if I was crazy. When I told them how much I enjoyed walking to work and nearby shops, they were speechless. Like my parents, I commute 30 miles to work. The difference is I live in Santa Barbara and work in Ventura. I walk six minutes from my house to the bus stop,though if it was much farther, I could take the Metro bus, which stops one block from my home. I pass the gorgeous Santa Barbara courthouse, wait outside the equally impressive downtown library and then hop on the bus to Ventura. It takes 10 minutes to walk from the Ventura bus stop to the Solimar office. It is certainly not a hard walk: both cities offer fresh ocean air, temperatures that average 70 degrees year around and great architecture. . My parents, on the other hand, live in the Woodlands, Texas, and work in Houston. They too have commuter buses, but, in a suburb like the The Woodlands, there is no public transportation. The most popular way to get to the bus stop is by car. The Woodlands does have 155 miles of hike and bike paths winding through all the different villages. But, unlike my short walk to the bus stop, it is not efficient to travel a sprawling suburb on foot. The weather is always an issue too: other than winter, it is either hot and humid or hot, humid and raining. Houston, however, has worked hard in recent years to become a very walkable city. The city has constructed new light rail lines as an addition to the already established bus system and has cleaned up the streets and sidewalks to make downtown easier for pedestrians. My parents' walk from their bus stop is only a few blocks to their office buildings, but they don't quite enjoy their walks as much as I do. This is not because downtown Houston isn't a beautiful city, but because you break a sweat the moment you step outside. And if you have longer than a few minutes walk from your bus stop, your coworkers will avoid you all day like someone eating a can of tuna. Admittedly, I wasn't too surprised by my parents' reactions to my vow of walking. In the suburbs it is hard to imagine traveling without a car. But for me in the city, a car is more of a hassle. A walk along the Central Coast of California is also very different than a stroll through the subtropical and humid forests of Southeast Texas. Every time I fly back to visit, I'm reminded how good Californians have it, especially those of us who live on the coast. There is no doubt that I see more and appreciate more when I walk to work rather than drive. - Sara Smith

There are few places more exciting than the pulsing downtown of a big city. There is a vitality and diversity that is palpable. Sure, it might be kind of noisy and dirty and crowded. But there is so much going on � commerce, entertainment, education, travel, socializing � that it's easy to overlook the grime and congestion. At the same time, there are few places more depressing than the forgotten downtown of a struggling big city. Those downtowns have the dirt, but the noise and crowds are gone. In their wake is crime, poverty, and the only thing that's palpable is a sense of hopelessness. Of course, things are not black and white. Downtown in City A is not ideal in every way and without problems, while City B's downtown is totally pathetic and beyond salvage. Manhattan may be the center of the world, but it has problems, starting with a lack of decent housing that's affordable on working class wages. Downtown Cleveland may be literally the poster child for a burned-out, abandoned central city. Yet there is new investment, including sparkling sports venues and a smattering of new housing. Determining the "best" downtowns is, of course, entirely subjective. Sure, you could count the number of jobs or museums or nightclubs with live music. But simply selecting the quantifier is a subjective exercise. Determining the "best" downtown is more of a seat-of-the-pants exercise. What does it feel like to be there? Within most states, there is little competition among big city downtowns because most states have only one or two big cities. California has no fewer than 11 cities of at least 300,000 people. (From north to south: Sacramento, Oakland, San Francisco, San Jose, Fresno, Bakersfield, Los Angeles, Long Beach, Anaheim, Santa Ana and San Diego.) Some of these are world-class cities with dynamic downtowns. Some of these are the butts of many jokes. Some are both. Here then is the California Planning & Development Report ranking of the best and worst. Best Big-City (300,000-plus) Downtown in California: 1. San Francisco. A recent story in the Economist magazine, which was not altogether flattering of The City By The Bay, said, "San Francisco is, indeed, one of America's most alluring and urbane spots. Next to it, every other big city in California resembles a glorified suburb." One of the issues, however, is identifying San Francisco's "downtown." The Financial District is the core of downtown, but that's mostly a gigantic employment center. We also view Chinatown, SoMa, Nob Hill, the Tenderloin and the Civic Center as part of downtown. When you consider this larger area, it's hard to identify what could possibly be lacking � except maybe the aforementioned decent affordable housing. There are a wide variety of jobs, first-rate museums, maybe the best live theater west of New York City, world-class restaurants, popular public gather spaces, varied architecture, shopping, a scenic waterfront, public institutions and great transit. There is even a baseball stadium and growing UC campus nearby. 1. (TIE) San Diego. It probably looks like we chickened out, but we really can't decide which is better. Twenty years ago, San Diego wouldn't have been a contender. But since then it has become a downtown of unusual grace and sophistication. Beginning in the 1980s with the Horton Plaza shopping mall � admittedly a bit garish � downtown San Diego has turned into exactly the kind of lively 24/7 location planners always dream of. Horton Plaza kick-started the revitalization of the adjacent Gaslamp district, an historic area that is now home to the city's nightlife. The Gaslamp, in turn, spawned a huge construction boom in high-rise condos. There's the requisite baseball park, of course, but best of all San Diego had the first � and still the best � urban Ralphs' market anywhere. 3. Long Beach. For decades, downtown Long Beach was simply a place with potential. Many of the city's aggressive redevelopment efforts either backfired or didn't fire at all. A long-struggling, enclosed shopping mall was a cancer. A no-man's-land of vacant lots cut off downtown from the waterfront. But much of this has started to change in recent years. The mall is gone. Ethnic restaurants and shops are everywhere, often underneath new loft residences. Entertainment venues have filled in the no-man's-land and now connect downtown hotels, shops, offices and eateries with a great waterfront. There may be no West Coast downtown that is a more enjoyable place to be a pedestrian. 4. Los Angeles. Yes, downtown L.A. has been on the comeback for, oh, 50 years. It's still very much a work in progress and it's not necessarily an inviting place after hours. But while the redevelopment work continues, a lively, incredibly international community has taken over much of downtown. A walk down Broadway will have you in Korea one minute and El Salvador the next. Downtown L.A. has great restaurants and watering holes, the new Disney concert hall, the most remarkable cathedral built in America in many years, Staples Center, both classic and cutting edge architecture, and even new housing. Worst Big-City Downtown in California: Fresno. It's really not even close. Bakersfield, Oakland and Anaheim all have less-than-ideal downtowns, but none of those districts is as desperate, depressing and even threatening as downtown Fresno. The hideous 1970s office buildings are the least of the problems in Fresno's core. The place is one gigantic real estate "opportunity," and it's usually deserted after 6 o'clock. Yes, there is a nice new minor league baseball stadium, but that's about the only reason locals willingly go downtown.

Sixty million Californians? Even people who think far into the future haven't given that one much thought. Demographers are pretty accustomed to thinking that there might be 50 million Californians one day. But last week the state's demographers came out with the prediction that there would be 60 million Californians in 2050 – a little over 40 years from now. It's a prediction that does make sense on one level. After all, California has been adding about a half-million people per year for almost 70 years. The latest state forecast assumes that this trend will continue well into the future. If the forecasts are right, California's population will have increased tenfold in a century – a rate of sustained growth rarely seen in the industrialized world. Which raises two important questions: What if it happens? And What if it doesn't happen? Most people are focusing on the first. So let me focus on the second: slow population growth. It's something so unlikely that most people in California have never even thought about it. Population growth occurs when one or both of two things is going on: 1. Births outnumber deaths ("natural increase") 2. In-migration outweighs out-migration From the Gold Rush to the 1970s, California's population grew primarily because of #2. During the late '70s, believe it or not, California's population growth completely stopped because out-migration to other states began to outweigh in-migration from other states. Since then, domestic out-migration has continued to exceed in-migration, but population growth has remained strong because of international immigration (both legal and illegal) and high fertility rates among the immigrant population. But immigration and fertility rates have been slowing down during the last few years. So it's possible to imagine a time when California's population growth also slows. What would that mean? It would mean a rethinking of our landscape and our economy in a way that most Californians can't conceive. I grew up in New York State during the 1960s and ‘70s, at a time when a slowing of both population and prosperity in the Empire State was impossible to imagine. Yet it happened. New York's population hasn't changed in 40 years, and it's largely because people who grew up there (like me) tend to move away. (This has been mitigated some by international immigration, especially in New York City.) And both downstate and upstate have been up and down economically – mostly down – ever since. New York is still one of the most populous and wealthiest states. But it is not what it once was. This has required a huge adjustment in the way people think and approach public policy. Even a generation ago, everybody assumed that New York's population would still grow dramatically. It's been a particular problem Upstate, where both the population and the economy have been stagnant for 40 years. Rolf Pendall, a Cornell planning professor and former housing director at the Bay Area Council, and his colleagues once analyzed the sewer system in the Rochester area. They concluded that it was devised as a countywide system – basically, the entire county was sewered – on the assumption that the entire county would be urbanized because of population growth. What happened instead, of course, was that the county sewer system facilitated a kind of large-lot sprawl we never see in California. The population of Rochester has essentially been redistributed throughout the entire county. In Buffalo, we see a slightly different problem. There are so many local government jurisdictions and agencies that they can no longer be supported by either the population or the tax base. So leaders in the region have to think about shrinking or consolidating – which would save a lot of money and probably serve the taxpayers well, but would reduce the political base of operations of practically everybody who has to buy into the decision, which is why it hasn't happened. Can you imagine what would happen if we had to start consolidating some of our thousands of special districts here in California? Recently, a few of the smarter states and metropolitan areas in the Rust Belt – I'm thinking especially of Cleveland and Pittsburgh – have come to realize that population growth and prosperity don't necessarily go together. They are pursuing a "growth without growth" strategy. They are focusing on creating wealth even as they lose population. This, of course, is a dream that many no-growth Californians have – let's be richer but have fewer people. Like Downstate New York, California has so much wealth that it will probably be economically powerful forever, even if the population slows. But we'd have to make some difficult choices — much more difficult than today's — about how to manage our remaining prosperity and how to govern ourselves. Whenever no-growthers start talking about rampant population growth, they usually place the blame on international immigration and the high fertility rates among the immigrants. But let's not forget one thing about "natural increase." It's not simply the number of births. It's the ratio of births over deaths. And we're living longer than ever. Part of the reason that California's population is growing is that, even as babies are born, older folks are, essentially, delaying death much longer than ever before. So California will be populous in the future partly because a lot of really old people will still be alive. That is fine with me. I'll be only 95 in 2050. I'm looking forward to being waited on in restaurants by those spry 80-year-olds. - Bill Fulton

Riverside County is moving toward adopting restrictive zoning and even acquiring private property in high fire hazard areas. The county is considering the fire-safety measures at the same time that representatives of the California Department of Forestry and Fire Safety (CDF) are conducting a statewide tour to discuss new fire hazard maps. Those maps cover only areas for which CDF has primary responsibility, but the maps for Riverside County make clear that much of western and central county is fire-prone, and many high fire hazard zones extend right to the borders of fast-growing cities. In early July, the Riverside County Board of Supervisors accepted a report from a county task force spearheaded by Supervisor Bob Buster and county Fire Chief John Hawkins, a CDF employee. The report calls for updating the county general plan and adopting zoning to address fire safety. The report also recommends the county "acquire lands in developing communities to both act as greenbelts and buffers to high fire hazard areas." Buster said county supervisors have long recognized that some areas are fire-prone, but decision-makers have not had adequate maps and fire hazard analysis in front of them when making development determinations. "This is an attempt to give a clear emphasis. In the past, it has always been one consideration," Buster explained. Riverside and some other counties have certain building and landscaping standards for fire hazard areas, but planning practices have not necessarily accounted for fire hazards. Buster envisions a fire hazard overlay zone that is similar to zoning for a 100-year floodplain in which little or no development is permitted. The general plan, which the county is beginning to update, is the proper place for this consideration, he said. "One of the fundamental reasons for a general plan is public safety," said Buster. The county formed the task force in response to an October 2006 fire that killed five U.S. Forest Service firefighters attempting to protect a house in Twin Pines, in the San Jacinto Mountains. The state fire hazard severity zone maps may be eye opening to planners, developers and landowners. Some of the most fire-prone areas are also some of the fastest growing, including western and central Riverside County, San Diego County, and western Placer County. The maps are available on the CDF website . The department is scheduled to adopt the maps before year's end.

Sometimes even journalists get it right. Three weeks ago, the California Supreme Court ruled that an airport land use compatibility plan qualified for a "common sense" exemption from the California Environmental Quality Act. In my story about the decision in Muzzy Ranch Co. v. Solano County Airport Land Use Commission , I noted that the court applied the substantial evidence test "even though the CEQA Guidelines and previous cases suggest that an exemption is not appropriate if an argument can be made that a project may have a significant effect on the environment." I wasn't exactly saying the court got it wrong, but I did detect an apparent inconsistency. Two respected CEQA lawyers are willing to go further. They flat out say that a unanimous state Supreme Court got it wrong. More importantly, the court appears willing to listen to their arguments. Richard Jacobs, the losing attorney in the case, has asked the court for a new hearing. Susan Brandt-Hawley, whom I once heard called "petitioner's lethal weapon" in CEQA cases, has asked the court to modify its decision without changing the judgment. (Brandt-Hawley has not been involved in the case but submitted the request nonetheless.) Both attorneys point to the court's standard of review for the exemption. Shortly after the attorneys filed their requests, the court extended the period of time for reconsideration until September 19 — a sign that the justices are taking the requests very seriously. This might seem like something of interest only to CEQA fanatics. (OK, I'm one, but so are you if you're reading this.) Still, there are potentially major implications here for future development. Citing the CEQA Guidelines and more than 30 years of case law, Jacobs and Brandt-Hawley argue that the "fair argument" standard applies to any nonstatutory exemption. That means that if a fair argument can be made than an activity may have a significant effect on the environment, the activity is not exempt from CEQA review. The fair argument standard favors environmental analysis. On the other hand, the substantial evidence standard means that a project is exempt from review if an agency can cite enough evidence supporting the exemption. The fact that there might be contrary evidence does not necessarily matter. The substantial evidence standard is deferential to the lead agency and favors exempting projects from environmental review. If the test becomes one of substantial evidence, you can expect to see a whole lot more developers and local governments claim that their projects are exempt from CEQA. We'll let you know if the court reconsiders. - Paul Shigley

The Yuba County Board of Supervisors approved the 5,100-unit Yuba Highlands project on Tuesday, July 10, after nearly seven years of planning and negotiation with developer Gary Gallelli. Now it appears the action will shift to the courtroom. At least seven state, regional and local agencies called the project's environmental impact report inadequate, and most of those entities appear ready to seek relief in court. For example, the Department of Fish and Game says the EIR understates the project's impact on wildlife at an adjacent state wildlife area. Caltrans is dissatisfied with the traffic analysis and mitigations. The Regional Water Quality Control Board says the project lacks water rights. Environmentalists are staunchly opposed. They see Yuba Highlands as classic low-density, growth-inducing sprawl in an inappropriate location — about a 20-minute drive on two-lane county roads from the nearest towns, and wedged between Beale Air Force Base and Spenceville State Wildlife Area. There is no question that the environmentalists will sue. As many as half a dozen heavyweight California Environmental Quality Act lawyers representing the county, the developer or project opponents have attended recent hearings. Project defenders, however, point to the site's location outside of the floodplain. Yuba County has received extensive criticism over the years for approving subdivisions on flood prone agricultural land. The 2,900-acre Yuba Highlands site is in the foothills on the Sacramento Valley's east side. On Tuesday, the Board of Supervisors voted 3-2 to approve a community plan amendment, an area plan, zoning and a development agreement. The project still needs master plans, subdivision maps and use permits before construction may commence. You can read more about Yuba Highlands in the Local Watch department of our June edition. To check out the latest staff reports, click here , then on the 07/10/2007 meeting. Yuba Highlands is item XIII. The Marysville Appeal-Democrat had coverage on Wednesday and Thursday .

There's a downturn in the real estate development market. Does that mean we'll soon see cities in California cutting development impact fees as well? The pressure is building. Development projects that made economic sense a year or two ago – even with high impact fees – don't "pencil" now because interest rates have gone up and prices have stagnated or even dropped. In many cases, the dreams of both developers and cities are now on hold. Dreams that might move forward if fees were cut from, oh, $100,000 per unit to $80,000, or $80,000 to $40,000. At least that's what developers say, and that's what cities think. We've heard lots of rumblings around here about cities cutting fees on individual projects and considering widespread fee cuts across the board. It's an understandable response: If we can get something going now, as opposed to later, by cutting the fees, let's do it. Lots of cities did this in the last real estate recession back in the early ‘90s on the theory that they could kick-start their local economy. Impact fees are politically tricky but economically necessary for most California jurisdictions – so cutting them in an attempt to stimulate development can be tricky too. The annual "Cost of Doing Business" survey has just been released by Kosmont Companies and the Rose Institute at Claremont McKenna College. There are not a lot of surprises in the Kosmont-Rose Survey: Philadelphia is the nation's leading "wallet-buster," while Cheyenne, Wyoming, is the least expensive place surveyed to do business. What's most interesting is Larry Kosmont's observation that cities in California don't have many choices in seeking to increase revenue: They can either increase fees and taxes or they can go after new development. It's hard to ride the wave of higher real estate values – especially when the sales market is slumping and fewer properties are turning over. That's because Proposition 13 permits reassessment of property only on sale. The longer somebody owns a piece of property, the more the property becomes a financial loser for the city. In good times, of course, California cities can do both at the same time – they'll get more development and they can hike fees as well. In bad times, they might have to trade one for the other – lowering fees in hopes of spiking development. It didn't work last time, largely because the bust of the ‘90s was created by an overall economic malaise in Los Angeles, not high fees. This time, the bust, such as it is, appears to be the result of a hyperinflated real estate market, not an economic bust. A dozen years ago, it didn't matter how much you cut fees or other development costs. Nobody was going to build. This time around things might be different.

There's a downturn in the real estate development market. Does that mean we'll soon see cities in California cutting development impact fees as well? The pressure is building. Development projects that made economic sense a year or two ago – even with high impact fees – don't "pencil" now because interest rates have gone up and prices have stagnated or even dropped. In many cases, the dreams of both developers and cities are now on hold. Dreams that might move forward if fees were cut from, oh, $100,000 per unit to $80,000, or $80,000 to $40,000. At least that's what developers say, and that's what cities think. We've heard lots of rumblings around here about cities cutting fees on individual projects and considering widespread fee cuts across the board. It's an understandable response: If we can get something going now, as opposed to later, by cutting the fees, let's do it. Lots of cities did this in the last real estate recession back in the early ‘90s on the theory that they could kick-start their local economy. Impact fees are politically tricky but economically necessary for most California jurisdictions – so cutting them in an attempt to stimulate development can be tricky too. The annual "Cost of Doing Business" survey has just been released by Kosmont Companies and the Rose Institute at Claremont McKenna College. There are not a lot of surprises in the Kosmont-Rose Survey: Philadelphia is the nation's leading "wallet-buster," while Cheyenne, Wyoming, is the least expensive place surveyed to do business. What's most interesting is Larry Kosmont's observation that cities in California don't have many choices in seeking to increase revenue: They can either increase fees and taxes or they can go after new development. It's hard to ride the wave of higher real estate values – especially when the sales market is slumping and fewer properties are turning over. That's because Proposition 13 permits reassessment of property only on sale. The longer somebody owns a piece of property, the more the property becomes a financial loser for the city. In good times, of course, California cities can do both at the same time – they'll get more development and they can hike fees as well. In bad times, they might have to trade one for the other – lowering fees in hopes of spiking development. It didn't work last time, largely because the bust of the ‘90s was created by an overall economic malaise in Los Angeles, not high fees. This time, the bust, such as it is, appears to be the result of a hyperinflated real estate market, not an economic bust. A dozen years ago, it didn't matter how much you cut fees or other development costs. Nobody was going to build. This time around things might be different.

When I was interviewing for a summer fellowship with Solimar Research Group, I asked the last question that a young professional fresh out of graduate school hoping to relocate to Southern California would be expected to ask. "Can I live in Ventura without a car?" I received a reassuring "yes" for an answer; however, I didn't realize that I would be up against one of the country's most car-reliant populations apart from my hometown of Atlanta. Through the eyes of a new resident without four wheels and an engine, two things became apparent about my new surroundings. One was the lack of bike racks downtown and the other was the abundance of (free!) public parking. Whenever I needed a place to lock up my bike, I was faced with scouting out alternatives such as skinny street trees abutting car bumpers and sign posts in the way of pedestrian traffic. But there was never any shortage of places I could have parked my nonexistent car located conveniently within walking distance from any number of retail shops, eateries or bars. Within a matter of days of my arrival to Southern California I managed to have my bike stolen from a strip mall, partly due to the fact that I locked it to a sign post that was not intended to serve as a secure bike parking location. The shopping center was located in a predominantly low-income neighborhood and was desperately underserved by visible bike parking. Out of sight of the security guards patrolling the stores, my several hundred dollar mountain bike — financed by several months of waiting tables during my past life — was a sitting duck. Despite the desperation I felt immediately after realizing that my bike was missing, only ten minutes after leaving it to perform my good deed for the day — picking up a Father's Day card in the Rite-Aid — I was completely disillusioned by Southern California's slant towards automobile transit. Having my bike stolen among a sea of cars seemed unfair. Losing my only mode of transportation meant that my mobility would be reduced to walking and relying on the public bus to get to distant places that already seemed far by bike. My efforts to recover the bike proved miraculous in that the city police apprehended the joyriding thief with my bike within blocks of the scene of the crime. Upon arrival at the fairgrounds where the young man was handcuffed, I saw my bike resting against the fence. I found myself unable to look upon the culprit as I suddenly felt guilty. I couldn't determine if I felt guilty for reporting the bike stolen knowing that whoever stole it would have fewer means to ever buy a bike of his own, or if I felt guilty for getting so upset over losing a material possession that could easily be replaced with my new income stream. After my introductory experience to life in Southern California, I slowly began to understand why my bike was stolen, and the source of my conflicted feelings towards its return. After a life with a car back east, I was finally confronted what it was like not to have access to a reliable mode of transportation. Not only was my shiny bike a profitable target for a carless thief, but also an attractive alternative to the constraints and costs associated with public transit. The public bus in my new town only costs $1.25 per trip, but bus fares for multiple daily trips add up even for an entry level planner. In addition, bus routes and schedules are not as convenient as the freedom of personal mobility enabled by my bike. Now that I cruise around on two wheels instead of four, I realize that the right to mobility doesn't come without a cost, and may even be worth stealing to attain. - Jessica Daniels

Design, Community & Environment is hiring a senior-level manager to oversee all its work in Comprehensive Planning. The selected candidate will report directly to the firm's president as one of four senior staff members overseeing each of the firm's four professional disciplines. While other managers oversee work in landscape architecture, urban design and environmental review, this principal-level manager will oversee all the firm's work in general plans, specific plans and public participation. Total current project volume to be managed is approximately $2.5 million per year, with approximately 15 direct and indirect staff reports. Projects to be managed are generally in Northern California , but also include some in Southern California . Applicants for this position should have extensive experience in the management of a range of comprehensive planning projects. Specific activities will include: Staff assignments and oversight Ensuring schedule and budget adherence Ensuring subconsultant coordination and management Client contact Oversight of proposal and report writing Strategic planning Coordination of marketing and expansion efforts Quality control and quality assurance Public presentations Meeting facilitation This is a principal-track position, with the possibility of an ownership interest in the firm within a short period of time. DC&E offers a competitive salary, generous benefits, and a casual, collaborative work environment. Qualified candidates are encouraged to contact us by phone, or to e-mail a resume and cover letter to steve@dceplanning.com , or fax to (510) 848-4315 . Please see our webpage at www.dceplanning.com for more information about the firm. DC&E is an equal opportunity employer and encourages candidates with diverse backgrounds.

For a bill that's mostly about symbolism, it was a symbolic defeat. A local government-backed eminent domain bill cleared its first committee hearing on Tuesday, July 3, but the prospects for ultimate passage may have dimmed. The measure, ACA 8, survived the Assembly Local Government Committee 7-3 — but without a single Republican vote. Because it is a constitutional amendment, ACA 8 needs two-thirds support in both houses, which means it needs some GOP votes. As we reported in June , the measure would essentially prohibit the taking of owner-occupied residences so that the property could be transferred to another private owner. Small businesses — those with 25 or fewer employees — could be taken only if the business owner declined to participate in the economic development project proposed for the site. The Republican members of the committee picked holes in the bills. Why distinguish between small and large businesses, asked Assemblyman Anthony Adams (R-Hesperia.) Why aren't churches, farmland and rental properties addressed, asked Assemblyman Van Tran (R-Costa Mesa). What about the definition of "blight," asked Assemblyman Rick Keene (R-Chico). ACA 8 doesn't "get to the crux" of concerns raised by the Kelo decision, Keene said. Bill author Hector De La Torre (D-South Gate) emphasized that the bill would restrict the government's authority in an unprecedented way and noted that voters rejected more far-reaching eminent domain restrictions contained in last year's Proposition 90. He called ACA 8 a "thoughtful compromise." But De La Torre won over no Republicans. Adams and Tran are co-sponsors of ACA 2 (Walters), which would prohibit the use of eminent domain for economic development. Although that bill is dead for the year, Republicans appear to be sticking by it. Interestingly, opposition to ACA 8 was relatively light during the Assembly Local Government Committee Hearing. The National Federation of Independent Business and the California Farm Bureau Federation were the only substantial opponents. A number of other business groups, including the influential California Business Properties Association, have signed on in support. However, this fight is about appearance more than it is about policy. The U.S. Supreme Court's Kelo decision upholding the use of eminent domain for economic development is at the heart of it all. And even Adams conceded that the Kelo situation — in which the City of New London, Connecticut, condemned an entire neighborhood to make room for a hotel and parking lot — could not happen here because of state redevelopment law. Keene, a former Chico city councilman, conceded that such redevelopment abuse in California is rare. All of which means Californians should expect to vote on at least two initiatives on the subject next year. - Paul Shigley

Walking to work at Solimar, I pass through downtown Ventura from my hillside apartment to the office on "The Avenue," a locally historic, blue-collar street on the west edge of downtown. Sure, I could drive, but it seems that just in the last few years downtown has been reinvigorated and is a pleasant place stroll. My "commute" takes me past turn-of-the-century craftsman homes and bungalows, the toaster-oven-like modernist library wearing a hospital gown shade of blue-green, the pseudo-art deco movie theater built during the '90s, the historic mission, pocket parks and window-shopping opportunities. In the mornings, Main Street is mostly barren. Drivers use alternate, faster streets and there are only a handful of breakfast joints and cafes, half of which are on the shady side of the street in the morning. There isn't much going on, and I don't have those chance encounters with fellow citizens commonly attributed to walking and smart growth design. But today's walk was unprecedented — two people said "hi." Southern California isn't known for congeniality, and it's hard to say "hi" to someone pushing 80 mph on the freeways, but even pedestrian encounters can be fraught with awkwardness. Usually it's the eye contact with the person who doesn't want to say "hi" that's awkward, or when no one is on the street except for you and one other person whose timing coincidentally puts them walking right next to you or right on your tail. Passing slower walkers without rushing can be an art form on all but the widest of sidewalks. Perhaps California is too crowded and busy for "hi." You certainly wouldn't be able to greet everyone on the Santa Monica Pier on a Sunday afternoon. If you tried, well, you'd be like the guy with dreadlocks playing his banjo while rollerblading to and fro. Maybe the density of California's urban areas, played out in walkable environments, predicates interaction to the extent that there's usually so many people around we don't know how to act when there are only a few. I think the really surprising thing was that both people who offered greetings were young guys like me, whose masculinity and vestigial territoriality usually makes for awkward passing. But I guess it was a nice summer morning in downtown Ventura and the world was at ease. - Aaron Engstrom