Not All Vacant Lots Have To Suck
With a little effort, owners can turn vacant lots into vibrant social areas.
Welcome to issue #3 of Brick & Mortar.
And hello to the 66 new faces in the audience.
I’ve spent a good chunk of time over the past few weeks thinking about vacancy. Not as sexy a topic as the new crypto launch, but arguably more important to revitalizing our downtowns.
In part, this is a result of following Proud Places’ Vacancy Vortex series last month. However, it’s also because a few partners and I recently purchased a vacant lot and need to figure out what to do with it.
But, you know the drill — before we get into it, please take a second to subscribe or share if you haven’t already. 🙏
What To Do With A Vacant Lot
You know what’s worse than a piece of vacant land? A piece of vacant land with a 4-foot political banner of a candidate you didn’t support. Then, drop it in the middle of town on Main Street.
There is a vacant lot just like that in the center of my town. It’s right on Main Street and has been collecting dust (and polarizing political signs) for 14 years since the block burned down in 2007.
It’s hard to imagine what your town would look like without one of the pillars of its community. But close your eyes. Now picture your significant other missing their front tooth — a massive void at the center of something you love and hold dear. You immediately want to fix it but you can’t. Because it’s not as easy as going to a dentist.
Instead, it sits and festers. The sudden drop in traffic affects all the surrounding businesses, making it more difficult to stay afloat. Slowly, other small businesses start to relocate or die.
Best case scenario is that the property is quickly redeveloped, minimizing the second-order impacts to the local economy. But (seemingly) more common is a big insurance payout followed by the sale of the property to a speculator. And similar to what the Bitcoin Billionaires and GameStop Diamond Hands preach, that speculator is HODLing.
So what do you do? Your options are pretty limited — either buy it or convince the owner to get off his (or her) ass and do something.
We went with the first pill.
Now, even if a vacant lot is to be converted into a playground or park (i.e. not a building), the planning and approval process for developing the site takes time. And perhaps double the timeline for contaminated brownfield sites.
In the interim — during the planning phase — the owner really has two choices:
Do nothing. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the tax write-off on a loss-generating asset. The path of least resistance. But also the path of least fucks given.
Activate the space. Create a vibrant social area that can be enjoyed by the whole community using a low-cost, high-impact approach.
This time, we’re going with door #2.
There are a million different ways to accomplish this. If you own a vacant lot and need some inspiration, let me know — I’ve invested a number of hours over the last few weeks to researching and discussing ideas with community members.
But I just want to focus on one of those ideas right now: food trucks.
La Cocina On Wheels
The generator-powered, 10-miles-per-gallon, 6-ton mass of metal colloquially known as a food truck may not be that great for the environment (maybe Elon Musk can add an EV food truck to his product lineup after he figures out the Cybertruck’s windows).
Food trucks are, however, great for the community.
Here are just a few reasons why vacant lots and food trucks are a match made in community activist heaven:
Everyone loves food. Obviously. But there’s something about having the option to choose between a handful of vendors in one location. Especially when those vendors are small “boutique” restaurants on wheels with artfully-designed façades, visible kitchens, and charismatic chefs/owners. There’s usually something for everyone.
It’s outdoors. Definitely weather-dependent, but people like being outdoors on nice days. It promotes social activity and mingling. And, despite how quickly Biden can beat his own deadlines to administer the Covid vaccine, folks will still appreciate outdoor gatherings for the foreseeable future.
Flexible configuration. Sky’s the limit here. Park them in a straight line. Spread them out. Form a U-shape where visitors can stand in the middle and look around in awe, salivating at their options. And, if you don’t like your initial configuration, you can rearrange it the next day with little effort.
Set up is easy. Many trucks bring their own source of power (generators) with some additionally requiring access to 110V. Other than that, you really just need to provide seating, a tent for shade, and potentially a port-a-potty (bonus points if you get one with a good name).
Food pairs well with other attractions. You can either promote it as your main event or use it to supplement something else. A couple ideas we’re playing with are an outdoor concert (we’re talking a couple hundred people, not Citi Field), movie night (set up a projector, sound, and seating), and a cornhole competition.
If you really want to get advanced, think about bringing in a beer truck as well. A little more red tape with local and state policies and laws, but many visitors will jump on the chance to enjoy a local craft brew on tap if available.
The result can be transformative. With a little effort, the community could have a fun, new outlet to gather, hang out, and socialize.
Not all vacant lots have to suck. There are plenty of examples of communities doing it right. And food trucks are a great place to start.
Thanks for reading.
Until next time,
Jonah
YES! When my partner and I visited Portland, OR two summers ago, these food truck pods were everywhere. It would be so amazing to have little pocket food truck parks taking up unused lots throughout the Upper Valley.
I love this idea! It could make Fairlee swing this summer. Might also induce somebody to pick up Whippi Dip, with all the extra traffic. (2 blog editorial ideas: correct typo in "hodling" and lose the f-bomb? Feel free to delete this.)