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Vacation versus home: Does Tulsa stack up?
Every summer, it happens: You plan a trip, maybe to the mountains, maybe to the ocean. The weather is great. You’re with friends and family. The food is good. All is well.
At some point, however, there may come a quiet moment and you just might find yourself asking: How does this place stack up against home? And if you don’t, well, I’m here to do it for you.
Vacation: It’s beautiful, mountains or ocean; you didn’t go there because it is scruffy. Tulsa: Once described as “America’s Most Beautiful City,” the key elements are still in place. There are attractive early-20th-century neighborhoods, mid-century neighborhoods and late-century neighborhoods.
Unfortunately, we’ve also wrapped an undeniably attractive downtown core with quick-exit freeways. Apart from a Boston-like Big Dig project that would bury the roads and cost billions, as a friend recently suggested, this will never change. But maybe it can change a little?
For several years, there has been some discussion in Los Angeles as to whether a “lid” could be placed over certain below-grade sections of the 101 freeway. Instead of snarled traffic, parks could be built. Cool, I thought; I wish ours weren’t 30 feet in the air.
But then, not long ago, en route to the new ballpark (put this in the plus column; it’s great), I’m riding on the bike trail that lies adjacent to the freeways running just east and south of downtown, and it occurs to me: I’m not crossing under these roads; I’m crossing over them. Parts of them are already below grade, just like in L.A.
Not so coincidentally, almost every person I know who is in some way involved in youth sports at some point drives at least 30 minutes in and around the city trying to get to athletic fields. Most are where the land is — outside of town. What if we placed fields inside of town?
Less time spent in cars, less pollution, easier access, more involvement from near and underserved communities (let’s take a swipe at childhood obesity while we’re at it) and, yes, unsightly freeways are at least partly obscured. Of course, when the economy is faltering, ideas such as these sound ridiculous, but any quick glance back at history shows that Tulsa has always been a repository for big ideas. If anything, I’d like to find myself involved in more big-idea discussions — big, giant, George Bailey-like discussions — not fewer.
Now, back to the original thesis: vacation spot versus hometown. As mentioned earlier, the new ballpark is great. Loft development downtown: exciting. Hope it works. Rapidly emerging arts district: excellent. BOK Center: saw The Boss. It was awesome. Cain’s: undeniable. Need a Cain’s II and III. Still a lot of bands I like that never play here. Homegrown talent: phenomenal. Samantha Crain, Ali Harter, Fiawna Forte — ridiculously promising trio of young singer-songwriters.
And I’m hardly in the know. If I’ve heard of them, these must just be the tip of the iceberg. Schools: We need to do better. Have to do better. We should be the best. All my life we’ve ranked near the bottom. It’s terrible. Embarrassing.
Jobs: Embrace energy, embrace technology, embrace entertainment. Go fast.
And generally, all in all, against vacation, home stacks up nicely. We’re small, lots going on, more coming. But, of course, we still lack … an ocean, a mountain.
This nags at me. In the summer, when it’s hot, on the weekend, almost anyone who can leaves the city. Why? Because of the lakes. The fishing. The creeks. All good reasons. But what if one can’t get out of the city? It took a while, but finally I thought of an answer: Barton Springs, Austin’s perfect, centrally located, 68 degrees year-round, spring-fed and Olympic-sized (two or three times over) swimming hole.
We need a Barton Springs. We must have a Barton Springs. This thought has vexed me, defeated me, driven me crazy. Of course, one can’t just “make” a Barton Springs. But then … why not? We have a river. We have water. Maybe we can’t clean the entire watershed from here to Colorado, but can’t we clean a small part of it: the part closest to the riverbank? Section it off? Add rapids, boulders, a climbing wall, a rope swing? Can’t we?
Of course we can. It’s a new hub, a cool hub. It’s recreation. It’s the last item on the list that lets you breathe in that wide vacation vista then knowingly turn away and think: That was great, but I can’t wait to get back home.
