Here’s the latest installment of Swamplot’s fun-pix-from-around-town feature!
Above: While visiting last weekend’s Gulf Coast Green symposium and expo at the Reliant Center, Sean Morrissey Carroll catches the Astrodome peeking in on the action.
A few more images loom:
THE ASTRODOME AND THE COLOSSEUM Ken Hoffman returns from Italy with a little perspective: “The Colosseum was originally called Amphitheatrum Flavium, and it was built by the powerful emperors Vespasian, Titus and Domitian. The Astrodome was originally called the Harris County Domed Stadium, and it was governed by former Houston Mayor and Harris County Judge Roy Hofheinz. He just thought he was an emperor. The Colosseum, after several expansions (mostly to honor a new emperor), had a seating capacity of about 65,000. It had 80 entrances and could completely fill and empty in less than five minutes. The Astrodome, after several expansions (mostly to stop Houston Oilers owner Bud Adams’ whining), had a seating capacity of 62,000 for football. It would take an hour to get out of the parking lot because of a lack of exits. Parking was cheaper in ancient times, too.” [Houston Chronicle; previously in Swamplot]
THE ASTROLOT: HOUSTON’S NEWEST TRANSIT HUB Another scene from the active afterlife of the former theme park: “The 150 acre lot formerly known as Astroworld has been empty for a while, but is expected to be packed on Friday when it will be available for rodeo parking. . . . Lighting towers will be brought in and parts of the property not suitable for parking, such as areas with holes in the ground, will be marked off. There will be entrances along the 610 feeder between Kirby and Fannin and exits off of Belfort. After the rodeo, all entrances will be used as exits so all traffic will flow out of the lot. There are only about 12,000 parking spaces on the actual rodeo site. Officials welcome the new 5,000 space parking opportunity. . . . The lot is not paved and is bumpy, two factors that do not bother some rodeo patrons. . . . ‘We think it’s great that people will be able to cross the bridge and it will bring back memories of when Astroworld was here,’ [Andi Devera of the Fazeli Group, owners of the leasing rights] said. The Astrolot opens this Friday.” [abc13; previously]
Still waiting in the wings, the long-promoted but as-yet-unmade proposal to turn the long-vacant Astrodome into a giant indoor movie lot is almost ready for its closeup, says Christine Hall in the Houston Business Journal. Astrodome Studios co-executive directors Elise Hendrix and Cynthia Neely
along with a laundry list of supporters, including “Dazed and Confused†director/writer Richard Linklater, are one month away from presenting a proposal to Harris County that would put a major soundstage and movie production studio into the proclaimed “Eighth Wonder of the World.â€
“We would have absolutely everything a creative agency would need to film a movie,†Hendrix says. “With 140,000 square feet, you wouldn’t have any problem building a city in there if you needed to.â€
But what would an Astrodome movie studio look like, really? To help unimaginative county officials picture the transformation, Astrodome Studios has prepared the dramatic photo-illustration above, along with a series of similarly rich diagrams:
One of Swamplot’s best tipsters forwards a link to a website featuring lovely renderings of a family of glassy office buildings and blocky parking garages squatting on the former AstroWorld site — along with a rather direct question: “Is this real???”
Well, the Crosswell Torian website is a real website, where the development company proudly presents its AstroWorld tower roundup under the name SouthPointe: “a hundred+ acre, transit-oriented mixed use development.” But a brand-new 13.5-million-sq.-ft. project doesn’t exactly seem tailor-made for today’s cautious real-estate market.
If the SouthPointe design isn’t real, though, it’s a brilliant parody — down to the ultra-generic name and its not-so-silent extra vowel. It expertly answers this question: How might a bunch of suburban developers — some of them from, say, Conroe — make a complete mockery of Houston’s highest profile and best connected redevelopment site?
NEW DEVELOPMENT ANNOUNCED FOR FORMER ASTROWORLD SITE Except this one will last only 4 days and feature Twisted Sister, Broken Teeth, Alice Cooper, and Queensryche. A field day for those of you worried about heavy metals secretly buried in former landfill sites! [Houstonist]
If you were wondering why the four-year effort to redevelop the Astrodome seemed like it was being run by the Keystone Kops, here’s a small piece of information that might start to explain a few things: Michael Surface, who up until a few weeks ago was chairman of the Harris County Sports and Convention Corp., has been indicted on corruption charges:
In order to secure business from the city of Houston, prosecutors allege, Schatte and Surface bribed Monique McGilbra, the city’s director of building services under then-Mayor Lee Brown, and hired her boyfriend, Garland Hardeman, as a consultant.
McGilbra pleaded guilty in 2005 to accepting bribes and has cooperated with prosecutors on the indictment.
According to the indictment, Schatte, 59, and Surface, 47, gave McGilbra free use of Schatte’s California condo, tickets to professional football games and a box containing champagne and $1,000 in cash. They also paid Hardeman more than $40,000 in consulting fees — $7,800 of which he funneled to McGilbra.
This is, of course, the same Michael Surface who decided to run a “competition” for the right to redevelop the Astrodome more than four years ago with this screwy premise: Ideas would only be considered if they were proposed by developers who had experience with projects of a similar size; but developers with experience on projects of a similar size would not be considered unless their ideas were considered acceptable. And yes, he’s the same Michael Surface who kept pushing the “winner” of the competition — Astrodome Redevelopment Corp. — to change its proposal from a space-themed amusement park to a convention hotel. And who gave them, during all that time, exclusive rights to negotiate a deal.
It’s not so surprising that new proposals for the Dome have begun to leak out in the few short weeks since Surface abruptly resigned his HCSCC post.
For four years, the fate of the Astrodome has been chained to the proposals of a single company. Those proposals at first went in all sorts of different directions but lately have seemed to be going nowhere. And now, finally, the stewards of the Astrodome’s future have declared that Astrodome Redevelopment’s exclusive right to redevelop the Houston landmark will be coming to an end.
That’s great news, because all that exclusivity and secrecy and incompetence has overshadowed one of the best ideas ever suggested for reusing the Dome — which today can finally be revealed: Let’s turn the Astrodome into . . . horse stables!
Astroturf and tiered stadium seats would give way to more than 1,000 horse stalls and an arena with a capacity of at least 6,000. The vast open area where former Astros stars Jimmy Wynn and Jeff Bagwell hit towering drives would be turned into a three-story exhibition and stalling space, Shafer said.
Isn’t doing time as a livestock storage center the hallmark of a historically significant building? And it will make the next renovation so much more dramatic: “Can you believe it? Before they restored it, they used this thing for horse stables!”
After the jump, some reasons why this plan might have legs.
Telephone Road south of I-45 has changed forever, declares John Nova Lomax:
Gone is the Mexican Catholic blue-collar neighborhood to the north around Queen of Peace church, its place taken by a string of hot sheet motels, clip joints, massage parlors and other such venues of vice. This is what’s left of the Telephone Road Mark May, Steve Earle, Rodney Crowell, Culturcide and others have written songs about.
But it’s all impossibly sadder. The Telephone Road that Earle and Crowell sang about in the rollicking songs of that name is long gone. Crowell’s version is set in the ’50s and early ’60s, and Earle’s in the early ’70s. Today’s Telephone Road far better fits Earle’s “The Other Side of Town.â€
There’s more street-level reporting in Lomax and David Beebe’s latest narrated and well-lubricated walking tour, which starts Downtown and heads east along Leeland, through a neighborhood called Edmondson Addition:
Boarded-up hovels line some streets, awaiting inevitable transformation into the (mostly shoddy) condos that are springing up like dandelions here. Other streets reminded us of some of Galveston’s less opulent older districts – one and two-story wood frame houses standing on bricks, interspersed with brick warehouses and workshops.
The story includes Lomax’s encounters with Golfcrest’s underground shopping-cart economy and his retelling of a Telephone Rd. crack-and-hookers tale too uh . . . racy to fit into a song lyric.
After the jump, a very different portrait of Telephone Rd. from an earlier era.
After years of visionary stewardship, the man who created the brilliant plan to find a new use for the Astrodome has resigned from his post as chairman of the Harris County Sports & Convention Corporation.
Yeah, it’s a shock and a shame, too. Michael Surface had so many useful connections within the development community and county government.
By now everybody knows the full story about the latest proposal to turn the Reliant Astrodome into a wacky, gondola-and-balloon-filled convention-hotel donut, right? Sure, it took the Astrodome Redevelopment Corporation four years to work out the plan — and okay, the would-be redevelopers might be a little stingy about actually showing anybody what the thing is supposed to look like. But the proposal’s clear enough that when the Rodeo and the Texans say they don’t like the project we know enough about the plan to understand what they’re objecting to. Right?
Well, maybe not.
In the latest installment of the Chronicle‘s “Oh, by the way, we failed to mention” series on the latest Dome redo efforts, reporter Bill Murphy drops this little nugget about twenty-three paragraphs in:
The rodeo’s [Chief Operating Officer Leroy] Shafer said he understands that officials in his organization might be viewed as “obstructionists” because of their opposition to the plan. But the public, he said, would understand the rodeo’s stance if officials of the group could speak freely about what they see as the project’s problems. Rodeo officials had to sign confidentiality agreements before they were allowed to review details of the plan.
Hey, Harris County residents should feel lucky: we got to see a drawing of the project without all of us having to sign non-disclosure agreements! If we all promise to sign and keep our mouths shut, can we find out about the project secrets too?
But there’s more:
Hidden in today’s Chronicle update on the Dome’s status are a few more exciting details about the Astrodome Redevelopment Corporation’s still-mysterious plans to remake the former home of the Astros and Oilers into a convention hotel. It’s gonna be like a county fair!
Company CEO John Clanton casually mentions that the new hotel will have seven restaurants and an amusement park, possibly including a ride to “near the top of the Dome,” plus tethered hot-air balloons, a batting cage, and gondolas.
It’s unclear whether Clanton is referring to Venetian-style gondolas for navigating all the new waterways inside, or the kind you see on ski slopes, for crossing the ballfield central fairgrounds. More details on the Astrodome Redevelopment Corp. website!
Oh . . . that’s right. There isn’t one.
After the jump, the real reason County Judge Ed Emmett doesn’t want to demolish the Dome.
More high comedy surrounding the Astrodome: Just what is Texans owner Bob McNair’s problem with the proposal to redevelop the Astrodome into a hotel? It’s . . . the hotel!
“A hotel would be in direct conflict with our games and when the rodeo is going on. You can’t tell guests they can’t come to the hotel on Sundays. That wouldn’t be fair to them. It wouldn’t be fair to our fans.
“We’re trying to be open-minded about this. We’re willing to look at anything that doesn’t conflict with our events.”
Now, you’re probably asking yourself: Haven’t the Texans known that the Astrodome Redevelopment Corporation was wanting to turn the Dome into a hotel now for about . . . what, three years? Wouldn’t the two groups maybe have wanted to chat with each other at some point during that period?
Silly you! You’re presuming that the Texans and the Rodeo and the Harris County Sports and Convention Corporation — Reliant Park’s landlords — actually have some intention or incentive to come up with a workable plan to redevelop the Astrodome. And you’re forgetting that turning the Dome into a hotel was an idea pushed early on by . . . the HCSCC’s chairman, Mike Surface! Remember that space-theme amusement-park concept that was so brilliant that the group that proposed it won the “competition” the HCSCC set up four years ago — even over other developer groups that had more experience and deeper pockets? That group was the Astrodome Redevelopment Corporation.
A year later the ARC scrapped its own space-park concept in favor of the convention-hotel complex pushed by the HCSCC. With the Sports and Convention Corporation’s backing, the company worked in secret for three more years to refine the proposal.
Good thing the HCSCC didn’t solicit any alternate proposals during that time. Just think of the confusion that would have caused!
Photo of Astrodome from August 28, 1992: Flickr user j4e0f0f
You know things must be getting desperate for the Astrodome Redevelopment Corporation, which earlier this week suffered the indignity of having two rather important stakeholders come out against the latest incarnation of the company’s tightly guarded, four-years-in-the-making, Frankenstein-inspired proposal for bringing the Dome back to life. When they finally got to see the proposal, “recently,” the Texans and the Livestock Show & Rodeo decided the Astrodome’s new incarnation would be incompatible with their own operations.
But the greatest indication of the redevelopment group’s desperation was revealed just yesterday in local ABC-TV reporter Miya Shay’s blog. That’s right, the Astrodome Redevelopment Corporation is going for broke: The company finally decided to release to the public actual images of its proposal for the county-owned facility!
Yes, it’s a daring strategy to use on a property paid for by local taxpayers, but it just might work.
After the jump: the newly released images of the Astrodome hotel-under-glass!
A funny thing happened on the Astrodome Redevelopment Corp.‘s way to, uh . . . redevelop the Astrodome: They forgot to get buy-in on their kitchen-sink proposal from a few important parties:
The $450 million plan to reinvent the Reliant Astrodome as an upscale convention hotel may have hit a wall Tuesday when the Texans and Houston rodeo officials came out against it.
The Texans and the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo’s contracts may give them veto power over new development at Reliant Park. Also, a letter of intent signed by the county and Astrodome Redevelopment Corp. requires the company to get the Texans and the rodeo to sign off on the project.
Oops! Hey, it might have been a good idea to ask these folks what they would approve of—before spending four years scheming in their secret design bunker. Just a suggestion . . .
“Not until we saw their plans recently did we realize that this project has the ability to cannibalize our operations,” said Leroy Shafer, the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo’s chief operating officer. “Every dollar spent that is spent there is one that might not be spent at the rodeo.”
Jamey Rootes, president of the Houston Texans, said the team was worried that the hotel would hamper the flow of fans in and out of Reliant Park on the team’s 10 game days.
The nerve! The response from Scott Hanson, president of the Astrodome Redevelopment Corp.:
Frankly, we are quite shocked by the Rodeo’s position. We have been working with the Rodeo organization for quite some time and were hopeful that our proposed redevelopment would only enhance their month-long event.
Apparently, “working with” does not include “sharing details of the proposal before it is complete.”
At last, the beauty of the Sports and Convention Corporation’s original plot from a few years ago is revealed: give exclusive rights to flail about in secret in search of a new use for the Dome to a company that, um . . . is really good at being secretive and flailing.
Coming next from those brilliant Dome masters: If these jokers can’t figure out what to do with that thing, maybe no jokers can!
Astrodome photo: Flickr user here_we_are
