The Brief

This story first appeared on Long Beach Post.

A $790,000 fence recently installed around Long Beach’s main library is drawing renewed criticism from a group of residents who advise the city on homelessness policy.

In a letter sent last week, the Homeless Services Advisory Committee said the money could have been better spent sheltering people rather than driving their encampments away from the Billie Jean King Main Library at the heart of downtown.

“This amount of $800,000, if dedicated to services for homeless individuals, would shelter a minimum of 10 people for a year,” the committee wrote in a letter to the City Council and Mayor Rex Richardson.

Committee members have said they were caught off guard when the fence went up in March, and they’ve asked to be consulted on any similar projects in the future.

Volunteers on the committee are appointed by the mayor and council to advise them on homelessness, but, in this case, they’ve found themselves at odds.

City officials say the fence was a necessary step to restore the library’s ability to hold events on its outdoor terrace, which was often crowded with tents and people’s belongings. And despite its cost to install, it’s started to save the city money, according to city spokesperson Kat Schuster.

Before, the city had to power-wash around the library daily, but that’s no longer necessary, Schuster wrote in an email. She said that’s saved an estimated $70,000 this fiscal year.

A worker powerwashing the ground outside the Billie Jean King Main Library in downtown Long Beach as unhoused people who were camped in the area look on Friday, July 7, 2023.

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Brandon Richardson

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Long Beach Post

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There’s also been a drastic decline in encampments and a drop in the number of police and fire calls at the library, according to Schuster. Fewer people are also being kicked out of the library for rowdy or disruptive behavior, she added.

From April through July this year, only 28 people have been temporarily banned from the library compared to 67 during those same months last year.

In 2022, the library even had to shut down temporarily because of safety concerns among staff. It reopened with increased security, but remained a drain on public safety resources.

“The decision to fence the Billie Jean King Main Library terrace restored the space to its intended purpose as a safe, welcoming area for children, families and library programming,” Mayor Richardson said in a statement.

Personal items are left on the outside of the fence at the Billie Jean King Main Library in Long Beach on Monday, Aug. 10, 2026.

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Thomas R. Cordova

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Long Beach Post

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Advisory committee members, however, worried the city could turn to this tactic more frequently.

“As the City of Long Beach prepares to host high-profile events related to the L.A. 2028 Olympics, pressure will increase on city officials to address encampments of unsheltered individuals,” they wrote in their letter.

Meanwhile, homelessness continues to rise in Long Beach — up 3.7% this year — and the city is under pressure to cut its expenses to close a $58 million budget gap.

“These reductions are likely to have severe consequences for people experiencing homelessness, as more than 2,000 individuals are already living on the streets and in vehicles, and our city currently has an average five-month placement wait time for those who request shelter,” the advisory committee wrote.

Dîner en Blanc — the DIY, fine, alfresco meal held in secret locations — has returned to L.A.

The event had been on hiatus here for seven years, due to the COVID-19 pandemic and struggles to find a new volunteer host.

But on Aug. 1, around 1,500 people dined and danced right on the street in front of the Beverly Hills City Hall. Past locations include the Santa Monica Pier and the plaza at the Music Center in downtown L.A. The mostly volunteer organization says it's looking to come back in March 2027 with double the attendance.

I heard about Dîner en Blanc about 10 years ago and always wondered if it was worth the hype, a question I’m asking myself more frequently as many pop-ups are more geared towards cool photo-ops as opposed to a good experience.

The event is held in cities around the world, but started in France and is rooted in both celebrating French culture and the tradition of gathering to break bread together —- a concept I can get behind.

Attending requires some planning and legwork, including online registration, a membership fee, a nice picnic, carrying a table and chairs, not knowing where you are going because the location is kept secret until the last minute, and working with a group of strangers to find the spot and set up everything.

Everything you wear and put on your table has to be white. Not eggshell. Not cream. Not even off-white. Paper and plastic are discouraged.

Guests are encouraged to get extra fancy with their table decor and outfits, and awards are given out for both. Those who go all out wear full costumes with wigs, masks and hats, and some tables are decorated with shining glass and twinkling lights.

Then there’s the cost

Creative table settings are encouraged, and judges choose one for a prize.

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Julia Paskin

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LAist

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Entry is $65 per ticket, plus a $14 membership fee. Tickets are sold in pairs. 

It's $15 for table and chairs rental (optional instead of bring your own). This is worth it if you don’t already own white folding chairs. Plus you don’t have to transport anything.

A multi-course meal for two is prepared by Todd English, a celebrity chef. That costs up to $125 — or you can bring your own. The prepared meal is a good option with enough food for two people (if that’s in your price range), but I enjoy putting a picnic together, so I would personally opt to do that part myself in the future.

For beverages:

• Water: 18.5 ounces, optional instead of BYO, $4, or $32 for a box of 12.
• Wine: There's no BYOB. Packages including Chambord and chocolates, from $25 to $68.

And none of that includes parking, gas or rideshare costs.

So was it worth it?

To quote first-time attendee Lilli Burrows: “I don’t need more stuff, I need experiences. I need to have fun things to do and create wonderful memories.”

Guests await the ceremonial napkin wave to start the meal after setting up Dîner en Blanc in Beverly Hills recently.

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Julia Paskin

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LAist

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Hector Gama also attended for the first time and was already planning for next year.

“We kind of downplayed it this time, but I’m sure next time there’s going to be a lot more stuff,” he said.

Alexa Kushner, 26, was invited by friends. “It feels like a really socially unique experience, and it's bonding the community of Los Angeles in a really fun way,” he told me.

Pro tips from guests

• Don’t worry about getting your outfit, meal or table set up perfectly. Be as extravagant as you want, but there are no fashion police or even any judgey vibes. 
• Wear comfortable shoes since you have to carry your items or at least walk to your table.
• Bring a stain remover. Sharing a Tide Pen will make you very popular.

Get notifications for next year’s Dîner en Blanc here.

This story was originally published by CalMatters. Sign up for their newsletters.

Every eight years, state housing regulators give cities and counties across California an especially dreaded homework assignment: Make a plan for a bunch of new homes.

Gov. Gavin Newsom’s administration assigns localities goals to hit at four different affordability levels. Collectively, the numbers represent the housing department’s best estimate of the number of new homes needed to match any expected population growth and to chip away at the state’s decades-in-the-making shortage of affordable places to live.

With these targets meted out to each region on a rolling basis, a massive chunk of the state, including all of Southern California, passed its halfway mark this summer.

So in the spirit of a midterm exam, how are cities and counties doing?

Bad news, California. If this were graded, the state would abound in Ds and Fs.

Less than a third of cities and counties are on track to permit enough “above moderate” units, the category that typically refers to market-rate housing, according to data submitted by locals to the state housing department.

The progress report for more affordable types of housing is even bleaker. Only 32 jurisdictions — less than 6% — are on track to hit their “very low” targets. That refers to housing within financial reach of anyone earning less than half the typical local income.

After years of nudging, political trolling and litigating, most cities and counties now have state-approved plans in place. But as the production numbers show, it’s one thing to plan and another to build. Almost nowhere in the state is actually seeing the new construction necessary “to meet the housing needs of all Californians,” as housing regulators have described these targets.

Only five jurisdictions in the entire state are permitting at a pace to hit all four income targets. Four are the lightly populated unincorporated bits of small, mostly rural counties: Plumas, Napa, Yolo and Mono. The fifth is Placerville, a town of roughly 11,000 people in the Sierra foothills east of Sacramento.

To be “on track,” a city or county needs to issue permits at a clip that, if sustained, would allow it to hit its state targets by the end of its planning cycle. State housing regulators told the city of Irvine in Orange County, for example, to plan for 8,671 market-rate units by 2030. Now halfway there, the city has issued more than 6,000, making it one of the minority of cities to be on pace to reach its target for above-moderate housing.

But for more affordable digs, Irvine, like most California cities, is far behind. The city has permitted just 9% of the very low-income housing needed to reach its target by the end of the decade. For the next most affordable category, which refers to units priced for those earning up to 80% of the regional median, it’s at a mere 3%.

What’s the housing hold up?

For anyone who has been monitoring the pace of new residential development in California over the last half century, the disconnect between housing planned and housing permitted won’t come as a surprise. The state’s total planning target adds up to nearly 2.5 million units over eight years, a reduction of the even more ambitious 3.5 million target Newsom set for his administration during his 2017 election. That 2.5 million figure works out to 312,500 new homes per year. Even during the state’s boomingest boom years in the early 1960s and mid-1980s, construction figures never reached such lofty heights.

This decade, despite a blizzard of state legislation and policy changes aimed at boosting the construction of new homes, the number of new homes built annually is still just north of 100,000.

Critics of the state’s planning process have long stressed that California’s targets are unrealistic and that local governments can only do so much.

“Cities cannot require developers to develop and cities don't build housing,” said Jason Rhine, a lobbyist with the League of California Cities. You can lead a developer to a rezoned plot of land, in other words, but you can’t make them build.

Pro-development advocates counter that the uninspiring production numbers suggest that cities still aren’t doing enough to welcome more housing.

“Cities can argue that they don't directly control production, but they do control fees, zoning and permitting,” said Laura Foote, executive director of YIMBY Action. The housing needs allocation process “is only as good as we have the political will to actually hold cities accountable.”

Foote directed some of the blame at state housing regulators for failing to compel cities to adopt more development-friendly policies.

In a written statement, housing department spokesperson Jennifer Hanson said regulators are “actively monitoring and enforcing” the commitments each jurisdiction has made in its housing plans. She also pointed to a couple of recent laws exempting many urban housing developments from environmental litigation and requiring local governments to allow for taller buildings near major public transportation stops. Both have already been used to “advance approved projects representing thousands of proposed homes,” she said.

There are many reasons that developers may or may not choose to build in a particular location. Some are in the power of local and state governments, like zoning and building codes, permitting timelines and fees. But many are not, said Hanson.

“Whether a project moves forward depends on interest rates, construction and land costs, access to capital, insurance and expected rents or sale prices,” she said.

Affordable housing construction faces an additional hurdle: a lack of public money. With very few exceptions, building homes that are affordable to those making below average incomes in California requires public subsidies, philanthropic capital or other lenders and investors willing to take a loss. Taxpayer support provided by the state has been in short supply after a voter-approved bond from 2018 that provided funding for California’s signature affordable development subsidy ran dry. That explains why the affordable production numbers are so much lower.

Affordable developers and other housing advocates are hoping voters will back an $11.25 billion state bond in November to replenish the coffers.

Meanwhile, “moderate” income housing is especially tough to build, facing the financial worst of both worlds. It often doesn’t qualify for affordable subsidy programs that prioritize projects serving people further down the income ladder. But rents affordable to those earning median incomes are often too low for unsubsidized developers hoping to turn a profit.

An escape valve

The state may force local governments to lay the groundwork for new development — identifying potential sites, rezoning to allow for denser housing, changing local laws that make construction more economically feasible. But historically, local governments haven’t faced any consequences if nothing actually gets built.

That changed in 2017, when state lawmakers passed a landmark housing bill aimed at boosting new housing production where it was most needed. In jurisdictions that are halfway through their planning process but have yet to permit at least half their housing targets for above-moderate, low- and very low-income housing (housing affordable to a "moderate" income level isn't included), the law requires local governments to fast track most apartment and condo projects. In exchange, developers have to set aside a certain number of affordable units and pay their workers more.

Of the 212 Southern California cities and counties that crossed the halfway point this year, all but four failed to hit those numbers and are now subject to the streamlining law.

But if history is any guide, that alone isn’t likely to trigger a building boom.

Private developers have insisted that the affordability requirements and higher wage standards written into the law make projects infeasible everywhere but in the highest rent neighborhoods. Since 2018, the law has been used to green light 27,961 units, according to the state’s housing department. That’s a significant sum, but it's far from enough to close the gap.

This article was originally published on CalMatters and was republished under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives license.

In response to a budget deficit, the city of Anaheim considered taxing rideshare trips to and from Disneyland and local sports venues. But the idea failed when City Council members declined to vote on a proposal that could have put the issue on the November ballot.

The rideshare tax plan was proposed by Anaheim’s Department of Public Works and the City Manager’s Office. According to a staff report, rideshare services — such as Uber and Lyft — have led to more traffic, especially near special event venues.

And that’s led to greenhouse gas emissions, air pollution, and wear and tear on public infrastructure.

The staff proposal would have levied a 10% tax on rideshares to and from Disneyland and other major venues in Anaheim. It was designed to help alleviate congestion and raise about $4 million in revenue in a cash-strapped city that faced a $45 million deficit this fiscal year.

But many of those rideshare trips are taken by tourists, whom the city relies on for more than 65% of its tax revenue.

“They are an incredible economic generator,” said city spokesperson Mike Lyster. And that’s going to grow, he said, as planned expansion of Disney theme parks and the sports venues takes place.

Symbols for Uber and Lyft adorn Farhan Badel’s vehicle in Apple Valley, Minn.

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Jenn Ackerman for NPR

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When Anaheim elected officials debated the proposal two weeks ago, some raised concerns that increasing costs for tourists to the city would sour their visits. The plan would have included rideshares to and from Anaheim’s Platinum Triangle, the area in and around Angels Stadium and the Honda Center.

“Residents will use it as well,” Lyster said. “Maybe somebody's meeting somebody else at the theme park or a baseball game, and one person may rideshare and then ride home with somebody else. So [elected officials] didn't want residents to be impacted either.”

Anaheim Mayor Ashleigh Aitken at the July 28 City Council meeting.

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Screenshot from Anaheim web site

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The city report said every year, about 1.5 million rideshare trips are taken to or from non-residential areas within the Anaheim Resort — where Disneyland is located — and 240,000 rideshare trips to or from non-residential areas within the Platinum Triangle.

But the rideshare plan isn’t dead. At least one city official indicated the matter could come back to the council for consideration.

“Maybe over the next year, 18 months, we can look into it when we’re not backs against the wall to get something on the ballot in November,” said Anaheim Mayor Ashleigh Aitken at the July 28 council meeting when she and the council declined to vote on the issue.

The rideshare plan would have covered only a small portion of the city’s current deficit, but it was part of an ongoing plan to raise revenue.

That deficit is expected to be a moot point next calendar year, when about $120 million in debt from the 1990s is paid off and the city can use those funds for other purposes, Lyster said.

This story first appeared on The LA Local.

PJ Roden had been on a month-to-month lease at her storefront, Sip Snack, on York Boulevard for seven years when her landlord called in April to say someone was coming to measure the building.

“I asked him, are you selling?” Roden told The LA Local.

He admitted he was, for around $4 million, though the building ultimately sold for $5.1 million in cash within a few weeks.

“Mom-and-pop landlords in L.A. give you a one-year lease and then never give you another one,” she said. “They want you month-to-month because that way, if they sell the building, they can raise the rent by a lot, or kick you out.”

Roden had begged her landlord for a lease before the sale closed.

“He wouldn’t,” she said. “He just told me not to worry, that my rent would probably just be raised.”

A few weeks later, a law firm representing the new owners sent a letter giving tenants on the block 60 days to vacate.

Dr. Donald Abraham, who is listed in property records as the owner of the building that housed Sip Snack, did not respond to requests for comment. Specialized Realty, the management company that took over the property, also declined to comment.

Roden and her fellow business owners faced a stark realization. While residential renters in California enjoy state eviction protections, a 39-year-old legal loophole allows acquisition firms to buy neighborhood property, triple rents overnight and issue 60-day notices to vacate.

PJ Roden, owner of Sip Snack on York Boulevard, at work.

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Courtesy of PJ Roden

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‘We don’t get to negotiate.’

That legal gap dates back to the Costa-Knee-Seymour Commercial Property Investment Act of 1987, which prevents California cities from capping commercial rent increases. The state also does not have a just-cause eviction standard for commercial tenants, meaning landlords can raise rents or end leases with few restrictions.

“Nobody will talk to us. There’s no communication. We don’t get to negotiate — we’re just being kicked out,” Roden said. “That’s devastating for a small business. I put my life savings into Sip Snack, close to $100,000, building out the space, the equipment, the liquor license to sell wine, and now I have to start all over again.”

Roden said it could take her up to a year to regain her wine license if the city grants one. She made many of these investments five years ago and is still paying them off.

She wasn’t alone. Two Sons, a shop Roden had encouraged her friend Annika to expand into the building two years earlier, was evicted too. As was Junior’s, a 99-cent party-supply store run by Sylvia Flores. And so was Crazy Scissors, a hair salon whose owner had operated there for 25 years.

“He has no place to go,” Roden said. “It’s not easy to move a hair salon. He’s going to have to close and work out of somebody else’s.”

Judith Goldstein, co-owner of Luca Essentials, an eco-friendly commercial drugstore in Highland Park, also got pushed out of her space.

Both Roden and Goldstein have since relocated — Sip Snack a block down York Boulevard, Luca Essentials across the street from its old address — landing on their feet only because a nearby space happened to open at the right moment. 

But Goldstein said she’s fearful the Costa-Knee loophole could get her again if this new space is sold to a new landlord. “There’s no cap,”  Goldstein said. “They can literally say tomorrow your rent is $30,000 — it sounds crazy, but they can do that.”

“Legally, we have no standing,” Roden said, “and that’s why we’re trying to change the law at a legislative level.”

A new state law offers some protections, but only for certain small businesses and only in limited situations.

‘It’s a farce.’

Senate Bill 1103, the Commercial Tenant Protection Act, went into effect in January 2025 and requires landlords to give “qualified” microbusinesses 90 days’ notice before a rent increase of more than 10%. It also requires 60 days’ notice before terminating a lease.

But Goldstein said, “It’s a farce.”

Los Angeles County has more than 236,000 microbusinesses with nine or fewer employees, according to 2021 Census data. Those are the types of businesses SB 1103 was designed to protect, but the law only generally applies to businesses that have five or fewer employees, restaurants with no more than 10 and small nonprofits up to 20. More importantly, it sets no ceiling on how large an increase can be.

Bell Gardens locksmith Ernesto Torres, who has leased his storefront for 13 years, has called the law “lukewarm” for that reason.

“If a 30% rent increase happens and the tenant can’t pay, the eviction notice arrives. There’s nothing a tenant can do,” Torres said.

Public Counsel attorney Ritu Mahajan told The LA Local that her organization has represented commercial tenants whose rent rose as much as 200% in a single year.

Judith Goldstein (center right), co-owner of Luca Essentials, with her team outside the shop’s new location on York Boulevard.

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Courtesy of Judith Goldstein

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‘This should be illegal.’

Goldstein’s fight has been slower and less about a single notice than about a landlord she said let her building fall apart with no legal obligation to fix it. Pegasus Management Company manages her building.

“Our toilet burst into our bathroom,” she said. “They refused to clean it. They refused to pay to fix it. Right now I have about 20 leaks in our ceiling every time it rains, and they refuse to do anything.”

Pegasus Management Company declined to comment.

Goldstein said problems began after the vacant unit next door was leased to a cannabis business that gutted the space and later abandoned the build-out. She said the management company rarely addressed the resulting rodent and insect issues and charged her thousands of dollars when it did.

“Every lawyer I spoke to said the same thing,” Goldstein noted. “You’re completely right, this should be illegal. But there is zero protection for you.”

Her rent was capped by lease terms at 2% annual increases, but she said the landlord’s real leverage was simply refusing to offer her a new lease once the old one lapsed.

Goldstein said Pegasus is part of a much larger pattern of consolidation.

“They’re an acquisition firm,” she said. “They find old owners, buy them out; it’s happening everywhere.” 

Both Goldstein and Rodan said the number of women-owned businesses displaced along the same corridors isn’t incidental.

Women own about 20% of all businesses in the Los Angeles region, according to the Los Angeles County Economic Development Corporation, but LAEDC’s own research found those businesses disproportionately lack the “financial health, resources, and workforce” to weather a shock such as a sudden rent increase that a larger firm could absorb.

“A lot of the businesses on York being kicked out are women-owned,” Roden observed. “Small retail tends to be run by women. Most of my neighbors on this block are women.”

Goldstein went further, tying it to how women are treated when they push back.

“It’s easier to be predatory to a woman in every way, because there’s such a stigma against standing up for yourself,” she said. “We’re so used to having our world taken from us that we just say, ‘OK, I’ll figure it out.”

‘Harassment and coercive leasing tactics’

Los Angeles City Councilmember Ysabel Jurado, who previously worked as a tenant rights attorney, has argued that tax rules can create an incentive for landlords to keep commercial spaces vacant. Owners of multiple properties may be able to claim an empty unit as a loss rather than lower the rent to keep a small-business tenant.

“That’s the perverse incentive of having a vacancy,” Jurado told the Los Angeles Times.

That analysis is now moving toward policy. On April 22, 2026, Jurado, along with Councilmembers Eunisses Hernandez and Heather Hutt, introduced a motion to explore a first-of-its-kind Commercial Tenant Anti-Harassment Ordinance for Los Angeles, modeled on the city’s existing residential Tenant Anti-Harassment Ordinance.

“Small businesses are part of what makes our neighborhoods feel like home,” Jurado’s office said in an official press release. “We are seeing local businesses, many of them family-run and immigrant-owned, pushed out not because they’re failing, but because of harassment, sudden rent increases and coercive leasing tactics that exploit a lack of protections. Small businesses should not be forced out simply because they lack the power to fight back.”

If approved, the motion directs city departments to study a Commercial Tenant Anti-Harassment Ordinance that would include enforcement mechanisms, accountability measures and a private right of action for affected businesses, closing at least part of the gap that left Roden and Goldstein with no recourse. 

The ordinance, known as TAHO, remains in committee. The City Council is on summer break. 

In the meantime, Roden worries her neighborhood is losing the mom-and-pop shops that made it.

“Sip Snack was open to serve the families in the neighborhood,” she lamented. “[Community members] could walk to my store, buy milk, buy eggs, buy a popsicle for their kid, and go across the street to the park. There was a whole vision behind it: people staying out of their cars, being part of their own neighborhood.”