I once investigated the sources of donations to the downtown soup kitchen. What I wanted to know was how many of this area’s most recognizable people donate to that daily hangout for parolees, indigents, idiots and homeless alcoholics. After a bit of digging, I discussed what I had learned with a local politico very, very high on the food chain. The discussion was very short-lived as I was told, “Don’t go there,” meaning don’t mess with the movers and shakers.

Personally, I fail to see the philanthropic benefits of subsidizing a constant drain upon our emergency services resources. If a had a dime for every time the cops or paramedics are dispatched to that soup kitchen, I’d be one of those movers and shakers you all grumble about. And don’t give me any bunk about being a hard-hearted Republican bastard. I have both eyes and a police scanner, and neither of them fail me.

I alluded to this yesterday, but now we’re hearing the same thing from a property owner with a sizable stake in that troubled former neighborhood.

From the Times Leader:

After pumping thousands of dollars into properly lighting and bringing the apartments up to code, the alleged beating death Wednesday has Gildea rethinking her stake in that downtown neighborhood. The homicide took place in one of Gildea’s two properties that housed non-students. Gildea will consider selling her apartments to a neighboring developer or tearing down the buildings and marketing the lots as potential parking when the current leases expire in June. “My intention is to destroy it or sell it to somebody else who will tear them down,” she said. “I just don’t think it’s fair for somebody to pay me to live in a building where they feel uncomfortable.” The street’s proximity to the St. Vincent DePaul Soup Kitchen on Jackson Street made the makeup of the community a mix of homeless people and students. Gildea said the homeless would often break into the neighboring Mary MacIntosh building for shelter, which is upsetting to some residents.

Ahem!

The street’s proximity to the St. Vincent DePaul Soup Kitchen on Jackson Street made the makeup of the community a mix of homeless people and students.

Granted, she rented to a convicted murderer, but that’s but a footnote in the story of what was once a viable neighborhood, which is now a veritable no man’s land.

At a very early age, I taught both of my daughters how to defend themselves. I taught them how to box, and I also taught them that most people never except to get kicked in the face, among other places. And as they changed from being little girls into nubile young women, I also taught them how to arm themselves. I taught them to be aware of their surroundings at all times, and how easy it can be to use someone’s intoxication, weight, long hair, baggy clothes, etc. against them if they get to assaulting you. There are a few boys that attended Dodson School that will attest to the fact that my girls can defend themselves if need be.

With that said, my hope was that neither of my girls would ever feel the need to defend themselves. But with cute little college girls walking past that idiot magnet of a soup kitchen to get to their parked cars on North Street at all hours of the day, how safe do you think those girls really feel? How safe are those girls? And as a parent, would you want your cute little daughter sauntering past there a couple of times a day? I know I wouldn’t.

Straight up, when the recruiters from Kings College lead the parents of prospective students through this city on a tour, do you think they purposely avoid that soup kitchen area at all costs?

Methinks they do.

The urban planning experts tell us that no downtown can thrive without an indigenous population of it’s own. No downtown is supportable if it is not a thriving neighborhood unto itself. Yet, we’ve got an uninhabitable void at the northern edge of our downtown which, with it’s current state, will never be recognized as a demilitarized zone.

Sure, most of the properties in that area could do with some fixing up, but will anyone invest in those properties with bums sleeping on crumbling porches, drinking below all available overhangs, urinating everywhere possible and steeling the aluminum siding off of abandoned buildings? I bicycle through that area at least twice every single day, and there’s no way I’d ever consider living there. Although, if it wasn’t an idiot magnet, and with it’s close proximity to a rebounding downtown, a scenario could arise where young professionals, senior citizens and interchangeable college students would consider living there.

Troubled neighborhoods can be turned around. But if a troubled neighborhood has a neon sign advertising freebies with no questions asked, the parolees, the indigents, the idiots and the homeless alcoholics will stake their claim to that neighborhood and it will not be user friendly for those of us that want only a safe and vibrant city in which to live.

The way I see it, with college girls and idiots mixing it up on a daily basis, it's only a matter of time before we suffer a highly regrettable mugging, rape or much worse. As a parent, would you want your cute little daughter sauntering past there a couple of times a day? Do you want your daughter navigating Idiot Row?

Answer me that.

Here‘s a documentary that will never see the light of day in the United States, the BBC 4’s “The Great Global Warming Swindle.” This video is longish, running 1 hour and 13 minutes. But if you’d like to hear climate scientists taking serious issue with the left’s new religion, this one will keep your interest.

So, without further adieu…

Ain’t it great? I don’t miss that shrill-sounding partisanship one bit. And you’re right, it is more relaxing to not be put off by the predictable shrieking every morning.

I listen to Sue Henry and I tolerate Mr. All-Inclusive himself, Steve Corbett.

Let me know if it works.

I’m psyched! As a river and a bicycling enthusiast, you couldn’t have sent better news along if you tried. Although, I sent your e-mail along to Kayak Dude, and he responded as follows:

Me first?

Sure, stick me with the front seat, why don’t you. Geronimo!!!

I remember the very first time I sat there as the kayak started slowly turning with that whirlpool, and all I know is I wanted to paddle like hell. Billions of gallons of water once rushed into the ground directly below that whirlpool, and I don’t want to be sitting there when it decides to reopen.

All I know is, while some aren’t too, too excited by news of connecting bike trails, new river inlets and mass kayak trips, I am and I am appreciate of the efforts of those that are very rarely recognized for the progress that they bring to this region.

Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead.

Buh-bye