Fatalism in Moab

All is lost


The crisis continues. Never mind the heat, mosquitoes and West Nile Virus – our inevitable fate is infinitely worse.

Purveyors of our local amenities can’t even drag worker drones in off the streets at $8 to $10/hour, never mind provide them a crash pad to share with a dozen other schlemiels. On the housing front, the furious race to see who will be the last leech standing with a valid overnight rental continues apace, and will probably get quite ugly.

Open carports are now going for $300 a month – more if the owner agrees not to park on top of the oil-stained tenants.

Community leaders continue to dither unproductively under the fantasy that Moab can be “fixed” and return to some semblance of an inclusive and sustainable community. It can’t. The tipping point has long since been passed.

Moab will either become an enclave for wealthy second, third or ninth time property owners, with the “help” being bused in from squalid camps outside of town (bye-bye backcountry); or the feces will hit the fan like when the uranium boom went bust, and you might be able to buy a house for a sane price, or rent a room at the new Hilton for $29.

Of course, if that happens, the money and real estate people will have fled in search of the next best place, leaving the survivors to return to orchards and gardens, and with indomitable spirit, try to construct a town that makes sense in this miraculous hardscrabble place, yet again.

– Steve Russell