Call for ‘High-Quality People’ Concerns Many on Balboa

The proposal to revitalize the Balboa Peninsula has many residents and business owners angry and concerned--all over one little phrase. “High-quality people.”

It is used repeatedly throughout the voluminous report outlining the redevelopment project, a buzzword being used to underscore the kinds of people the city hopes the revitalization project will attract.

OK, now parts of the peninsula are a little grungy. But many of the people who live and work there are offended by the implication that the city considers some of them to be, well, lowbrow.

Ardee Allen, who owns a tattoo parlor near Balboa Village, said she was offended by the tone of the report.

“They’re talking about me,” said Allen, pointing out that her shop, Skinworks, appeared on the page in the report titled “liabilities.”

“I can’t believe it,” she fumed.

The plan to revitalize the Balboa Peninsula focuses on making it a prettier place--burying unsightly power lines, landscaping the main streets, luring bed-and-breakfast establishments--all in the hopes of attracting more visitors.

But beneath it all, critics said, is an attempt to change the type of person that spends time on the peninsula.

Rush Hill, one of the architects of the city’s plan, defends the notion that the types of businesses that have thrived on the peninsula--such as tattoo parlors and less-than-honorable drinking establishments--have had a negative effect on the quality of life.

“They [the businesses] are not parallel with the quality of residents or visitors we would like to have,” Hill said.

The Balboa Peninsula is definitely not Huntington Beach, but it’s not quite Venice Beach either. It’s a little quirky and some people like it that way.

Connie Arrigo, for one, said all the folks at City Hall and the people who complain about life on the peninsula need to “get over it.”

Bed-and-breakfasts belong in Napa Valley, not Newport Beach. And if you can’t deal with a little noise and extreme difficulty parking your car, move to Kansas, Arrigo and others say.

“It’s all part of the adventure of living here,” said Arrigo, 62. “It’s part of the sport.”

During her 24 years on the peninsula, Arrigo has seen the changes the city is trying to reverse. She saw the Bank of America in Balboa Village close its doors and has witnessed the influx of T-shirt shops to what used to be a more traditional downtown.

And Arrigo had no complaints when some of the homes on her street were converted to “weekly rentals”--that’s local lingo for those infamous dwellings where visitors are known to throw loud, weeklong parties where kegs flow freely and the music blares all night long.

“It’s funk and it’s OK to have funk because funk has its place,” Arrigo explained. Her advice to anyone who wants to bang on doors where parties are in progress and ask them to pipe down: Get thee to Corona del Mar.

You can blame Skinworks’ success on the free market, critics point out.

Allen opened the shop on Balboa because a landlord there was willing to take her. And she’s succeeded because clients continue to come.

“I guess they think people who can afford to pay $100 an hour [to get a tattoo] aren’t quality because they like tattoos,” said Allen. “I think it sounds a little discriminatory.”

Even some of the long time property owners are affronted by the insinuation--or plans to change the unique flavor of the peninsula.

“I think that phrase is a little strong,” said 29-year resident Jean Van Ornum, 76, who owns several properties on Balboa. “We consider ourselves quality people and we like it the way it is.”