Moose Patrol

In last night’s presidential debate, Barack Obama used the line, “That’s been missing over the last eight years. That sense is something that I want to restore.” referring to the need for the next president to expand the focus to issues of everyday importance like energy, education, and health care.

I have used restoration as a topic to help me understand what it means to rebuild something. In my case this is a viable channel for information, commentary, and other media. Restoration takes a special kind of commitment from people seeking it. Two days ago I saw a phrase spray-painted onto a derelict garage: Never Say Die.

Graffiti in Syracuse, NY. Found across the street from the Alzheimer's Association of CNY.

I think that sums it up nicely.

Last Friday I learned about the departmental grants that are awarded to grad students working on their thesis. The deadline imposed by this grant proposal has forced me to focus my efforts in a different direction. Because the proposal requires a table of expenses – I now need to understand how I will conduct my research. It means I need to write my methods section.

Prior to this my advisior had told me to start putting together a literature review. Over the past weeks I had organized and read several articles relating to residential abandonment. Looking at the scales of studies done in the past it was easy for me to lose faith in my ability to accomplish anything meaningful over the next several months.

I have committed myself to drafting an outline for my methods by next Monday. It is probably an unreasonable deadline – but I am going to hold myself to it. That draft will give me the confidence to press forward on the grant proposal.

A graduate student I am friends with in my department is writing her thesis on restorative environments. These are best described as places that help people relieve stress. Reductions in stress have been shown to reduce the time it takes to heal from various conditions. The common thread connecting these restorative environments is that they all evoke nature in some way. Hospital windows that open to trees, paintings of flowers, running water, and other natural environments have demonstrated restorative abilities.

Like “power ups” in early video games, these places seem to boost energy and help us rebound from various ailments. Although medications, surgeries, and other treatments are necessary, restorative environments seem to accomplish something stunning: they improve health without any physical or chemical agent. In that sense, they do not compare well to the “magic mushrooms” that Mario sought.

There is a whole body of scientific literature relating to restorative environments. It is a topic that is too deep to cover in this context. However, if you are interested in it, I would recommend starting with Roger Ulrich’s study of hospital windows and surgery recovery times.

Although Simply Spray claims that their product is designed to be used on upholstery, like the couch in the video below, I have my doubts about the final appearance and durability of spray painted fabric.

At least Red Green isn’t legitimately trying to inform the public. Red turns an electric oven and refrigerator into a desk and chair.

The Daily Show’s election coverage opens with the phrase “Restoring Honor & Dignity to the White House” splashed in a digital graphic across the screen. In this context the word refers to the condition of the Presidency as an institution instead of a physical presence. It also suggests that the White House currently lacks both honor and dignity.

Several public figures have restored their appearances. Martha Stewart is the most relevant example of such a public comeback in recent years. In spite of spending five months in federal prison for crimes associated with insider trading, she was able to repair her reputation. Although I’m not sure whether her current media empire is more or less valuable than it was before her conviction- it hardly seems to matter. Her name is still synonymous with crafty holiday decor ideas, complicated recipes, and all things “Martha.”

PS – I should note that some recipes her Omnimedia monster generates are actually easy. A PBS show called “Everyday Food” features simpler meal ideas that I’ve used many times in the past.

Cornell is a strange juxtaposition of forces. On one hand, it is rural in character – a college town set in the idyllic hills that cradle the Finger Lakes, far from the noise and commotion of larger cities. The students who have come to Cornell are often from densely populated, east coast cities. Over the past 143 years, the campus has negotiated the balance of the rural setting and urbane population.

Big Red Barn - Exterior view

Big Red Barn - Interior view

Originally a carriage house for the college president’s house, the barn was transformed into a place for social activities in the 1950s (and completely renovated again in 1991). The pictures above show how it appears today.

I mention the Big Red Barn because it allows a place for graduate students to restore their friendships and their senses. While undergrads are generally plugged into various social networks such as fraternities, house parties, and sporting events – I’ve found that grad students are generally more isolated from these. Although grad students might claim to have “out grown” events like these I doubt that many have moved beyond the need for a place to relax with friends.

Some readers may know about other websites that I have authored. Moose Patrol represents a sort of virtual restoration of my online identity. The first website was intended as a post-high school networking tool (this was before the days of Facebook). It worked because of the shared vocabulary my friends and I enjoyed using – political metaphors, inside jokes, and other bizarre humor. By my sophomore year of college this effort had fizzled. We all had made new friends. Slowly, our paths were separating, and the rationale for this first website dried up.

By the fall of 2003 I had embarked on a new website project – it was called Toponymy. This was the first time I attempted to restore my online presence. It’s mission was fundamentally different from the first website (named Helmers). Instead of acting as a medium for communication, Toponymy plumbed the depths of the content available on the internet. Over the next four years I explored interesting tidbits that I picked up from my life as a college student along with the stories that explain various place names (Toponyms). In its final months the website adopted something of a standard format – a picture pulled from flickr along with a descriptive caption. In November of last year I realized that the website had become untethered from my personality.

Moose Patrol represents another reinvention of this web presence. A major part of this restoration is the organizing concept of the monthly theme. Although there will be variations in the amount and quality of content between months, the themes can act to guide my thoughts, to prevent them from taking so many tangents and side streets, to keep the message coherent. Unlike the writing I did for Toponymy, this weblog will acknowledge that events in my own life have shaped my beliefs, values, and thoughts. Because of this, I believe that Moose Patrol will outlive my previous attempts at creating an online identity.

I hope you can join me for this next phase.

As the dictionary lists it: abandonment |əˈbøndənmənt| noun

I am currently a graduate student investigating residential abandonment. It was something of a revelation to consider abandonment as a series of events rather than a single step in the history of a property. In many ways, restoration is the antithesis to abandonment. It is also a process, not an isolated event.

The “mortgage meltdown” or “foreclosure fiasco” in the US produced an excess supply of homes. Reckless speculation on the demand for new homes is one of the causal factors cited as a cause for this problem. Ironically, the supply of homes available on the market may have been (marginally) increased by people attempting to “flip” properties by renovating them extensively. Several TV shows, such as HGTV’s Curb Appeal and Designed to Sell promoted the idea that non-professionals could earn money from the successful renovation of homes.

The focus of my thesis is not the causes behind the foreclosed property problem. In fact, the impetus for my research predates the current problem. Cities throughout the midwest and northeast have been dealing with the problems caused by derelict property for several years. I am looking into the ways that cities (and perhaps neighborhoods) manage and transform abandoned housing.

City officials face difficult decisions when addressing the fact that large portions of city blocks are unoccupied. Should the goal be to restore the area to a full residential occupancy? Or, should the city break from the past and implement a plan that embraces the missing population? Urban agriculture and green space are already on the radar of many city officials.

Like the original owners’ decisions to leave the neighborhood, this will be a process. It will confront the needs of the remaining residents and the future needs of the community.

Age, weather, war, negligence. These are the things that make restoration possible. If our material goods resisted the forces of water, heat, and decay then the meaning of restoration would be wholly different. Shoes are a good example. A person buying shoes doesn’t imagine what they will look like after a walk through deep snow. The last thing on that person’s mind is how the tread will wear and the stitching will tear. By the time the shoes have become unusable, they are not the same shoes that were purchased.

Vacant lots along the River Spree are used as a beach.

Europe has experience with restoration, at least in regards to buildings. Vast stretches of European cities were destroyed in the bombing campaigns of World War II. Many buildings were shells of their originals. They were unrecognizable. From the perspective of their original purpose, these buildings seemed to present only hazards, liabilities, and threats.

Regardless, creative people who saw value in these masonry and wood structures found ways to reclaim them. New uses were imagined for new occupants. Like other survivors of the war, these buildings were fundamentally changed by the experience. They now operate in a capacity beyond the imagination of the original designers and builders.

Is it important for us to consider the future uses of our material world? Is it even possible? Buildings designed before the advent of electricity could have hardly anticipated the need for outlets. We are surrounded by artifacts from earlier ages – things that have become obsolete or inadequate. What will inspire us to reconsider where these objects fit in our lives?