Features

THE LONG BEACH OF TOMORROW, TODAY

 

Our plans for a better, richer, beachier, artyer, hover monkier city

While we realize that this week’s bankruptcy-court auction of the Queen Mary lease begins a whole new chapter in the life of the once-proud luxury liner turned whored-out bag ’o bolts, we beg to remind everybody that not all of Long Beach’s tourism problems have been rusting over on Pier J.

Nearly all the local waterfront—to say nothing of the water, itself . . . please—could use a makeover. Or better yet, a complete do-over.

Yes! That’s it! Something totally new! The time for tweaking long-standing problems has passed. Long Beach deserves a civic centerpiece that draws exclusively from the future, far outside the box, deep inside the imagination, beyond anything that has ever been considered before—like a song without notes, a dance without steps, a freeway without lanes . . . uhh, wait, we already have that last one—not good. But the rest of the stuff? Gold!

In that spirit, The District’s staff of unfettered prophets presents its vision of the next Long Beach.


ILLUSTRATION by ALICE RUTHERFORD

HALF-MOON PIER
When the Breakwater was removed and waves, tourists, and money returned to the city—home prices doubling, rental properties tripling, hotel rooms requiring a three- to six-month wait—residents were reminded why their town is called Loooong Beach: it’s got five and a half miles of coastline! Yet they yearned for a central meeting place to celebrate their home and its beach culture. True to the city’s reputation for architectural innovation and not content with another jutting phallus of railroad ties, Long Beachers mandated construction of a spectacular half-circle structure able to handle pedestrian, bike, and small motorized traffic, such as Segways and the newly developed—and still controversial—Hover Monkeys. As they process along the grand arc, piergoers pass food vendors offering an array of local tastes and enjoy street performers, musicians, sketch and portrait artists. Those interested in stimulating the mind sip coffee in cafés while discussing art, politics, and culture. Still others are simply content to gaze out at the blue Pacific and wonder if the Chinese will attempt another troop landing. Within the half-circle is Lowenthal Lagoon, for which the pier acts as a natural breakwater/filtration system that allows small children to play safely in the water while mothers watch from the shore and weird older brother broods over the recently discovered writings of posthumous Nobel laureate Ski Demski. Located at the center of the lagoon is the spectacular Munificent Auditorium, which features concerts, dance, dramatic performance, and lectures. Long Beachers love their Half-Moon Pier! But they still disagree on its name: supporters believe the lunar reference not only describes the structure’s shape romantically but hearkens to Long Beach’s openness to all cultures and lifestyles by referencing the moon’s many gradations of gray; detractors believe there is a better name, somewhere, perhaps over the rainbow.


ILLUSTRATION by ALICE RUTHERFORD

THE POOK
Not content with building just any amusement park, Long Beachers demanded and got the Pook, which celebrates the city and its culture. From its water rides and Aquarium of the Pacific-sponsored touch tanks to the “710 Bumper Cars” that match motorists against overly-caffeinated truckers, the Pook’s theme of Southern California beach life immediately rings truer than Disney’s similar attempt with California Adventure. California Adventure attempts to recreate the feel of an ocean boardwalk; the Pook is an ocean boardwalk. Visitors are dropped off on the crowded midway by the famous Blue Whale trolleys (“Convenience is no fluke!”) and stroll among booths featuring games, food, entertainment, and souvenirs. They’re greeted by the hilarious banter of game-hawkers (“Hey, big head!”) and can smell the ocean air, sunblock, and deep-fried-everything breath of tanned patrons, many them wearing swimsuits that range from the bikini and sandals favored by California beach girls to the bikini, sandals, and socks favored by German civil planners. The Pook is real fun. And what is more genuine fun than the world famous Cyclops Racer (“Just try and keep an eye open”), which sends roller-coaster riders hurtling down, up, and out over the blue Pacific? The Pook, named after beloved local promoting legend Justin “Pookie” Rudd, provides fun for children of all ages: the music pavilion features a never-ending lineup of local bands ranging from hip-hop to swing, rock to ethnic folk to Phil Shayne. There are restaurants and gift shops to peruse while the kids indulge in games of skill. Of course, adults can partake in games, games of chance, and a cocktail at Jerry Westland’s fabulous Fantasy Sand Castle Casino. That pop-pop-pop sound in the background? It’s the immense Vengeance Is Mine Paintball Warfare Zone, in which short-sighted urban planners and disgraced redevelopment-agency commissioners are relentlessly hunted down and splattered amid the actual ruins of the short-lived Pike shopping center.


ILLUSTRATION by ALICE RUTHERFORD

BLUE WHALE TROLLEYS/DOWNTOWN THEATER DISTRICT
The trolleys, known to locals as “Blumps,” connect Long Beach to LA and Orange County, allowing Long Beach residents to explore those hinterlands while allowing outlying yokels to visit such sophisticated Long Beach hotspots as the exquisite Downtown Theater District. Featuring a dozen movie and live-performance venues, the district’s wide variety of entertainment—from IMAX to art houses, concert halls to theater spaces—has made it known as “Broadway West,” though, ironically, none of it is located on Broadway. Also, no pee smell. The theater district provides the bedrock of a downtown art scene teeming with museums, galleries, small performance spaces, cafés, and coffee houses—all connected by the Blumps. In fact, the Blumps not only attract the outside world—and its entertainment dollars—with nary an addition to the traffic flow, they also allow locals to get around the city without need of a car. Blump stops are located nearby most popular attractions and if people don’t feel like walking, they can always avail themselves of the provided pedicabs and Hover Monkeys. In fact, it’s not unusual to see someone walk off the beach and jump a Blump to the theater district to catch a matinee, perhaps Andrew Lloyd Webber’s recently-premiered musical version of Saw, re-imagined, and retitled, as Saw! (Warning: Traveling by Hover Monkey while still in swimsuit may cause chafing. Also, plague.)

Tags: , , , ,

Viewing 3 Comments

    • ^
    • v
    Clever ideas. Of course, the District and it's anti-development, ultra-preservationist point of view would oppose any of the changes required to put them in place. Perhaps someone will build a time machine and transport you all back to the Long Beach past you seem to crave. Once the hover monkey is developed, we'll shoot one back to you.
    • ^
    • v
    in parts i think you guys are serious and in other parts i see the humor. it's just a big joke right?
    • ^
    • v
    I feel you. Long Beach lovers consistently exist with broken hearts. Our city radiates potential, and opportunities to make it a place as coveted as Newport, Huntington, or heck, even Seal Beach are gobbled up by quick-profit real estate mongers who refuse to feel beauty, art, and historical legacy squirming under their shoe. Most of the time, when I see new construction or re-development completed in Long Beach, I'm tortured by the thought, "Is this the best we can do?"

    The most clever aspect of your piece is that most of the "improvements" are barely modified from the city's past. Rainbow Harbor? The original Pike and Boardwalk? How could anyone fail to note that the demolition of these landmarks has done nothing but fill a couple of investor's pockets and left the city empty-handed, and as previously stated, heartbroken.

    Well, grendl2000, we could meet at the Pike in Long Beach to discuss your ideas...what? You can't find the Pike because there's no signs and all the buildings face away from the street and 3/4 of the retail space is deserted, with the most obvious failure the focal Laugh Factory which has been "Coming Soon" for five years? So let's meet at P.F. Changs. Oh, I see. There's no parking, even the valet kind, and you don't want to park on the 6th floor of the giant parking structure just to walk a mile, have to cross two busy streets, and then wait 75 minutes for a table. I understand.
 
close Reblog this comment
blog comments powered by Disqus
 

© 2007-2008 Seven Days Publishing LLC.