Social Respiration

Downtown Los Angeles used to have extraordinary buildings, especially along Broadway. They reached their peak appeal during the war years of the 40s, then declined with the rise of the suburbs in the 50s, and by the late 60s couldn't command enough rent (save on the ground floor shops) to justify tenancy.  

They lay dormant, without repair, until telecommunication startups used the space to run giant speculative fiberoptic rivers through them at a cost of less than 50 cents/sq ft. Over time, artists began living cheaply in the large empty spaces. Loft conversions started with a trickle and eventually rehabilitated most of the useful space.  Ancient cafes and news stands were frequented by the few downtown loft-dwellers until a commercial infrastructure slowly grew to be sustainable. I think the tipping point was when an art college opened a downtown campus.  

For the first time since the war years, there is now a real downtown community of dwellers, not just workers who rush home elsewhere. The old industrial Brew 102 giant holding-vats, an ugly landmark hard against the Santa Ana Freeway, now houses performance space; Angel's Flight (the worlds shortest railway - funicular, I think its called) carries high-rise posh-posh down to Grand Central Market where California growers, coastal fishmongers, and ethnic cooks ply their fresh-that-morning goods.  

For a few bucks, one can jump on the subway, and connect all the way to the harbor or the valley. Or any of the train or bus hubs beyond. (Hopefully, they'll get it out to the airport someday.)  

As proof of concept, when we lived in Hollywood and Eileen was a docent for the Metro, we walked a few blocks to the station, transferred to the harbor line down to Long Beach, walked across the street to the free transport there and went out to the Queen Mary for some night time drinks overlooking the curve of the harbor lights, then returned the same way. It cost us about 8 dollars for the transportation.  

I think these larger cycles of growth and decline, fat and fallow, are predictable social phenomena. It's something we draw from our natural circle 'round the sun.  

Decline is inevitable, but regeneration recurs. It seems always that at the top and the bottom, at euphoria and despair, we always forget the pulse of life, the in and out, the respiration that makes everything possible.