Real Estate Cycle

1. A dilapidated old urban neighborhood, somewhat close to a major American city's downtown or university, is on the verge of economic collapse.

2. Artists, driven out of previous locations by high rent, search incessantly for affordable space near the urban center. Discover neighborhood with half-abandoned industrial spaces, move in, enjoy inexpensive drugs, try to avoid shooting back. Tiny, dusty coffee shop opens. Bewildered landlords gladly accept money.

3. Neighborhood welcomes artists, but there is a slight flavor of misgiving, as if someone almost remembers something that happened before. Rock bands use practice space.

4. Artists move in in some force. In aproximately 5-8 years, neighborhood becomes thriving combination of economic and cultural diversity, attracting people interested in art and community. Older residents take pride in renewal. Artists invite people into neighborhood to look at work. A coop gallery springs up, maybe a scooter shop, hipster diner, illegal club, cafe, bar and bookstore.

5. After a decade, people who spot cultural trends notice neighborhood. It becomes written up in Whatever Weekly. It is mentioned in a travel guide as an example of local color. A commercial gallery opens. An uber hip club opens, having been driven out of its previous neighborhood.

6. Artists thrive. More businesses open. Original locals who own begin selling out property, those who rent worry. Professionals "with taste" look for "urban experience," make investment opportunities in property, such as kicking out the local bakery by tripling rent. Soul-stealing professional fashion and marketing photographers start taking up all the large work spaces. Parking becomes noticeably difficult.

7. SOME TRUSTAFARIAN CHIPPIE OPENS A BOUTIQUE.

8. More clubs open. Frat boys descend. Old beloved Coffee house goes bistro. First real construction in decades begins. Apartments start going condo. Untold hoardes of marketing assistants, architects, and graphic designers mob the place. Studio spaces replaced by arty knick knacks, high end furniture, rents rise, artists begin to leave. First corporate enterprise - an office, bank, or high end retail, opens. Beautiful women are everywhere. The gates are opened for the wealthy. The local dogs appear to shrink to minute, cat-like size.

8. Leases expire. Poorer people and art spaces nearly gone. Trendy people, noting the bloom off the rose, begin to look elsewhere. Rich people now appear in force, having heard neighborhood was "cool." Restaraunts abound. All but one gallery closes, which converts to decorative glass. Studio space disappears. Clubs, last light industrial shops start closing due to complaints.

9. Neighborhood is now cleansed of its history, its original residents, artists, authentic culture of any kind. A few older gay men on large Japanese cruiser motorcycles hang out at one of the three local Starbucks- which is confused as evidence the neighborhood is interesting. The fat, beady-eyed, pinch-necked, cow-faced, taste-free rich people appear, walking slowly four abreast, three rows deep, crushing everything good and true and decent under their soft, mighty asses, looking for something that does not exist, and which they would not recognize. Pottery Barn opens. It is all over. Your neighborhood is dead.

10. Repeat.

Tips for your neighborhood; No boutiques. Safer still, no artists. And for the love of God, keep it out of Whatever Weekly.

So, if anyone knows a good cheap space downtown, let me know.