Copland
In 1997, Sylvester Stallone starred in a motion picture called “Copland.” The premise of the film was that gentrification in New York had gotten so bad that cops who worked in New York and often were born in New York could no longer afford to live there, so they formed communities in New Jersey. One of them had so many New York cops living there that they called it “Copland.” It’s a good movie.
Daddy was still alive when gentrification began tearing apart San Francisco and New York. Like anything economic and civic-related, we discussed it fairly often. Daddy and his friends had a real nuts-and-bolts understanding of the economy because that’s what they did. They let me hear their conversations because I could carry heavy things and I could mix drinks.
My friend, Fay Wray, lived in a Trump building in New York. His last husband bought it. She called him a slum lord from Queens, and legitimately, that’s how he started. Roy Cohn met him at a time when Roy Cohn couldn’t get an appointment with Reagan, despite his position with Nixon. Maybe because of his position with Nixon. Trump, under Cohn’s tutelage, became the gentrification king of New York.
When Trump ran for the nomination, I thought it was a stunt. When his numbers started to show he could win, I was stunned. There were, and are, so many wonderful, honorable, trustworthy guys in the GOP; this Trump guy, baby, what are you trying to do to me? That’s when I realized I had lost the path in American Politics.
I like to switch parties from administration to administration. That guarantees that both parties send us their best. After Obama, I had a list of about ten republicans I wanted next—then, this guy? Baby, you must hate me.
I hear charges of gentrification levied against Downtown, Belhaven, Fondren, and now the Jackson State Corridor. I’m aware of the seriousness of this allegation. I’m not some “drill-baby-drill” asshole. I know economic moves have economic consequences.
Gentrification becomes a problem when demand for low- and working-income housing exceeds supply for housing at those prices. It’s a serious problem. In Jackson, after the great flood, we had a tight spot where demand for working-class housing far outpaced supply for working-class housing because so many houses were destroyed and had no flood insurance because the flood maps were wrong.
You hear how what happened to Jackson was white flight, and there was plenty of that, but two decades before Harvey Johnson, we were losing working-class people to Pearl because we didn’t keep up with the demand for working-class housing.
In Jackson, at the moment, we have far more supply for working-class and low-income housing than we have demand for. That’s why I’m not worried about gentrification in these areas. Converting our excess housing inventory into starter-home-level apartments and middle-class rental property means that’s a spot paying property taxes and not rotting.
Cops often are considered entry-level middle-class jobs. The building where I live has enough cops to start a pickleball league. Sometimes I call it cop land. Sometimes I call it Nurse Land. We have plenty of both.
The housing crisis in Jackson is for zero-income people. I swear, if one more mother fucker comes here and starts a tiny-home project they don’t finish, I’mma knock a knot in them. Tiny homes are a great idea. I’m starting to associate it with real estate scams.
Ideally, you want your income distribution to be fat in the middle, and skinny on both ends. In Jackson, we have an income distribution that’s really very fat on both ends and skinny in the middle. People forget how much raw wealth there still is in Jackson. Nobody forgets how much abject poverty there is in Jackson. I’m not worried about gentrification at the moment because, at the moment, that’s not the problem. That’s the solution.
Thinking about Jackson, Janie and I sometimes joke that the rest of Mississippi used to hate us because we were so successful, but now they hate us for being so unsuccessful. Maybe they just don’t like us.
I’ll be honest with you. Some of the things Daddy and his friends did helped create this situation. It happened because it’s often difficult to predict the long-term effect of your actions. I was right there with them. It sure seemed like the right thing at the time.
Banking regulations always protected small economies like Mississippi. I was in favor of easing them, but then the RTC and actual banking pirates started firing across our bow.
Some days, I’m just so goddamn tired of fighting. This isn’t a new feeling. I’m not gonna give up. This place. These people. They’re important. They mean something.
