Dear Most High:

Say you're moving around your city — not necessarily doing exalted mayor or semi-exalted city council stuff, but maybe just being a person, nodding and smiling at the little people, demonstrating your common touch. What's the biggest concern rattling around your brain — the one that never leaves you? No, I mean aside from getting reelected.

It's housing, right? There's seldom a shortage of proposals. But developers don't necessarily want to develop what people really need, where they need it, at a price that actual humans can afford. That of course, is where you come in, dedicated, far-seeing mayors and city councilmembers, particularly those of you who aren't currently under indictment.

For example, I live on the Santa Barbara Riviera. If that sounds expensive, I'll tell you that we could have rented my first studio apartment for over a thousand years for what we paid for this place. No exaggeration, just math. Granted, that first apartment was kind of a dump, sharing a bath with a not excessively fastidious woman across the hall. But our current place isn't Buckingham Palace, it's a condo with a one-car garage. We couldn't figure out why our upscale neighbors kept bringing us food. Then we realized that, seeing our one-car garage, they assumed we were on food stamps.

The Riviera, as you might guess, is elevated. It's got one main road. Remember the quaint idea that streets were designed to get you where you wanted to go. Well, that's been fixed. With traffic, it can be a challenge to get even a single car down off the Riviera. As for evacuation in an emergency — like a fire, which, as you may have heard, we sometimes get in Southern California — imagine the Titanic with only one lifeboat. And try not to get hung up on Jack's nude painting of Rose. (Or is that just me?)

Right at the base of our escape route, a developer is proposing to build two huge apartment complexes. A small percentage of the units might even be designated affordable. However, while normal traffic would be merely abominable, in a fire, our only hope would be to pray for rain. I've already ruled out Jet packs ($400,000 and you crash in 30 seconds) and "teleportation" (still mythical).

In the closest I ever intend to come to actual journalism, I met with a project planner for the city and looked at the proposal itself. Now, I know something about buildings. Not only have I lived in a number of them, but in college, I hung around with a couple of architecture students. I never went to any of their classes, but we did a lot of drugs together. And in my considered opinion, there's a chance these proposed complexes wouldn't be the ugliest buildings on the planet — but not a good chance.

Still, beauty — and ugliness, I suppose — is in the eye of the beholder. And come to think of it, those guys I knew in college might have been studying anthropology, not architecture. (That would explain the shrunken heads!) Admittedly, we've got a nationwide housing crisis. We particularly need affordable housing, and it belongs in all neighborhoods. So bring it on. All I humbly suggest, estimable mayors and councilmembers, Your Supremacies, is that it doesn't have to be a threat to public safety — particularly mine — or so ugly it makes your eyes bleed.

Your Pal,

Barry Maher

Unless there's a fire, you can contact Barry Maher or sign up for his Slightly Off-Kilter newsletter at www.barrymaher.com.

To find out more about Barry Maher and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

Photo credit: Breno Assis at Unsplash