By Erin Sherbert
By Howard Cole
By Erin Sherbert
By Erin Sherbert
By Leif Haven
By Erin Sherbert
By Chris Roberts
By Kate Conger
Not in My Parking Lot
Dog Bites wouldn't normally get worked into a froth over Willie Brown's developer friends' latest schemes, but this time, they've gone too far: They're threatening our parking space.
Here at the swanky China Basin Landing office complex, right in the heart of the soon-to-be-redeveloped Mission Bay waterfront, we park in a lot that -- when it's not partially flooded -- provides 600 spaces for the building's tenants. We knew that the building's former owners had been required to supply parking in order to get the zoning variance that allowed them to convert the China Basin building from a warehouse to office space, so we weren't especially concerned when the state Department of Transportation admitted that SOMA would lose 10,000 parking spaces over the next few years as new developments fill formerly empty lots, and freeway retrofitting closes others.
We had our space; we have the little tag hanging from the rearview mirror to prove it.
But holy Toyota! Now we hear that in a couple of months, the parking lot -- our parking lot -- will be redeveloped by Catellus (ever so coincidentally, a former legal client of Willie L. Himself) as a shopping center-slash-office-slash-apartment complex. Of course, Dog Bites is torn. On the one hand, we're thinking Noah's, Jamba Juice, Walgreens, a little counter-service noodle restaurant with, like, lacquered tabletops -- all those unmistakable signs of urban progress we normally adore. But on the other -- our parking space!
At the same time, the Blackstone Group, current owner of China Basin (and, ever so coincidentally, investors, along with Willie L. Himself, in a housing development in the greater Sacramento area, provided that isn't a contradiction in terms), plans to add an additional three stories to the complex's streetside building, more than doubling its height to 85 feet.
We would have thought this would mean Blackstone would have to provide more parking -- but we would have been wrong. Back in 1993, the city's Planning Department suggested that the China Basin building be required to construct a minimum number of parking spaces -- 885, in fact -- in its basement. "The building as approved would have provided parking on-site within the structure, but subsequently this was determined to be infeasible," noted the Planning Department (italics ours).
In other words, it was a whole lot less expensive to make tenants park in the crumbling lot across the street -- in which, we note, a torn garbage bag full of petrified dog shit has been languishing for weeks now -- than to add parking to the permanent infrastructure of the area.
In fact, the building's then-owners whined unashamedly to the city until the parking requirement was reduced to 600 spaces, which only have to exist somewhere within a half-mile of the complex. Still, in the end, nearly everyone who couldn't get a space in the lot found parking spots on the weedy, graveled shoulders of Third and Fourth streets, and life went on.
But now that the Giants' new stadium -- 42,000 seats and only 5,000 parking spaces -- is going up across Third Street, Sony's monstrous, and 100 percent parking-free, Metreon complex has opened, and work on the huge Moscone West expansion is set to begin in February, Dog Bites isn't quite so sanguine. The parking problem is beginning to hit home, and we don't like it one bit. After Catellus breaks ground on its office-shopping-residential complex in our current parking lot, we'll be shuffled across Fourth Street to a vacant lot, which, it must be said, looks like the kind of place in which our bland lease-mobile will get extremely dusty. And even that spot will be lost the following year, when Catellus goes on to construct a new entertainment center with a 12-screen movie theater.
Now, much as the city is in dire need of another multiplex with inadequate parking facilities, we have to wonder how anyone is going to get to any of these many stellar attractions. It's not just our parking lot; it seems the entire Mission Bay project is being approved on the blithe assumption that hey, people can walk, can't they? (Well, other people can, anyway.)
Dog Bites may be just a girl, but it seems to us that when people have a hard time getting somewhere, they find somewhere else to get to. Of course, we're not experts, or anything.
Never Mind the Y2K Countdown Here's the Nexus Kitchen
Of course, while development is a bad thing when it happens here, it's a good thing when it happens somewhere else, as long as that somewhere else is within driving distance and includes a vast surrounding acreage of blacktop, has convenient evening shopping hours, and is a purveyor of armchairs called Flen.
Naturally, we're talking about the new IKEA store in Emeryville.
The project's opening date has been moving back and back and back ever since we first heard rumor of the Impossible Furniture Store from Sweden's impending arrival, but a huge sign on I-80 now claims (as does the IKEA Web site) that the housewares emporium will really, for sure, definitely this time, open in spring 2000.
Dog Bites, whose apartment is furnished in a style that might best be described as "involuntary minimalism," is counting down the hours until store launch day -- oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy! -- and, though we haven't yet spoken to an IKEA representative to confirm this, is working from an assumed opening date ("ETI," or Estimated Time of IKEA) of April 6, 2000.