Open Front St as pedestrian only & use Venice of the Pacific idea to create Lahaina as a CULTURAL CAPITAL to bring visitors & locals. Front Street was no longer a place for people who lived in Lahaina to go. Would like to see stores and services, community events on Front Street. Cap size of stores to no bigger than 25K-50K square feet max and can't put two same company stores next to each other (room).
You know, I’ve lived in this community for a long time, and I’ve watched the zoning code grow from something that was supposed to be a simple set of rules into this endless maze of bureaucracy. It’s gotten to the point where regular people—people who just want to fix up their house, start a small business, or build something useful—are completely lost. The zoning code has turned into a weapon, not a guide.
We’re told it’s there to protect “community character,” but half the time it’s being used to block anything new, even if it makes sense. If someone wants to open a coffee shop in an empty storefront? Suddenly, it’s a “conditional use.” If someone wants to build housing on a lot that’s been sitting vacant for 15 years? They’ve got to go through three different boards, pay thousands in fees, and maybe they’ll get an answer in two years. And then we all wonder why rents are high and businesses don’t stick around.
I mean, let’s be honest—half the code is written in language no normal person can understand. It’s page after page of cross-references, exceptions, footnotes, and “subject to approval.” Try asking a zoning officer for help, and you’ll get three different interpretations depending on who you talk to. It’s not clear, it’s not consistent, and it sure isn’t user-friendly.
And don’t even get me started on parking minimums. Why, in 2025, are we still requiring two spaces per unit in parts of town where most people walk or take transit? That rule alone has killed more affordable housing projects than I can count. Developers don’t back out because they can’t build housing—they back out because they can’t build enough parking to satisfy outdated rules. So instead of housing for people, we get empty asphalt.
What’s worse is that the code seems to change based on who’s asking. Big developers come in with their teams of lawyers and consultants, and suddenly the rules bend. Meanwhile, a homeowner who just wants to put up a porch gets slapped with violations and fines. It’s not fair. The code is supposed to treat everyone equally, but it doesn’t.
And here’s the kicker: all of this nitpicking about setbacks and signage and “neighborhood compatibility” is supposed to make our community stronger, but all it’s doing is making it stagnant. Young families can’t afford to move in. Small businesses can’t survive. People who care about the neighborhood spend more time fighting the code than actually improving their property.
So here’s my plea: stop hiding behind outdated zoning laws and start rewriting them for real people. Cut the red tape. Make it understandable. Get rid of rules that don’t fit modern life. We deserve a zoning code that helps our community grow—not one that strangles it.
You know, I’ve lived in this community for a long time, and I’ve watched the zoning code grow from something that was supposed to be a simple set of rules into this endless maze of bureaucracy. It’s gotten to the point where regular people—people who just want to fix up their house, start a small business, or build something useful—are completely lost. The zoning code has turned into a weapon, not a guide.
We’re told it’s there to protect “community character,” but half the time it’s being used to block anything new, even if it makes sense. If someone wants to open a coffee shop in an empty storefront? Suddenly, it’s a “conditional use.” If someone wants to build housing on a lot that’s been sitting vacant for 15 years? They’ve got to go through three different boards, pay thousands in fees, and maybe they’ll get an answer in two years. And then we all wonder why rents are high and businesses don’t stick around.
I mean, let’s be honest—half the code is written in language no normal person can understand. It’s page after page of cross-references, exceptions, footnotes, and “subject to approval.” Try asking a zoning officer for help, and you’ll get three different interpretations depending on who you talk to. It’s not clear, it’s not consistent, and it sure isn’t user-friendly.
And don’t even get me started on parking minimums. Why, in 2025, are we still requiring two spaces per unit in parts of town where most people walk or take transit? That rule alone has killed more affordable housing projects than I can count. Developers don’t back out because they can’t build housing—they back out because they can’t build enough parking to satisfy outdated rules. So instead of housing for people, we get empty asphalt.
What’s worse is that the code seems to change based on who’s asking. Big developers come in with their teams of lawyers and consultants, and suddenly the rules bend. Meanwhile, a homeowner who just wants to put up a porch gets slapped with violations and fines. It’s not fair. The code is supposed to treat everyone equally, but it doesn’t.
And here’s the kicker: all of this nitpicking about setbacks and signage and “neighborhood compatibility” is supposed to make our community stronger, but all it’s doing is making it stagnant. Young families can’t afford to move in. Small businesses can’t survive. People who care about the neighborhood spend more time fighting the code than actually improving their property.
So here’s my plea: stop hiding behind outdated zoning laws and start rewriting them for real people. Cut the red tape. Make it understandable. Get rid of rules that don’t fit modern life. We deserve a zoning code that helps our community grow—not one that strangles it.
We’re told it’s there to protect “community character,” but half the time it’s being used to block anything new, even if it makes sense. If someone wants to open a coffee shop in an empty storefront? Suddenly, it’s a “conditional use.” If someone wants to build housing on a lot that’s been sitting vacant for 15 years? They’ve got to go through three different boards, pay thousands in fees, and maybe they’ll get an answer in two years. And then we all wonder why rents are high and businesses don’t stick around.
I mean, let’s be honest—half the code is written in language no normal person can understand. It’s page after page of cross-references, exceptions, footnotes, and “subject to approval.” Try asking a zoning officer for help, and you’ll get three different interpretations depending on who you talk to. It’s not clear, it’s not consistent, and it sure isn’t user-friendly.
And don’t even get me started on parking minimums. Why, in 2025, are we still requiring two spaces per unit in parts of town where most people walk or take transit? That rule alone has killed more affordable housing projects than I can count. Developers don’t back out because they can’t build housing—they back out because they can’t build enough parking to satisfy outdated rules. So instead of housing for people, we get empty asphalt.
What’s worse is that the code seems to change based on who’s asking. Big developers come in with their teams of lawyers and consultants, and suddenly the rules bend. Meanwhile, a homeowner who just wants to put up a porch gets slapped with violations and fines. It’s not fair. The code is supposed to treat everyone equally, but it doesn’t.
And here’s the kicker: all of this nitpicking about setbacks and signage and “neighborhood compatibility” is supposed to make our community stronger, but all it’s doing is making it stagnant. Young families can’t afford to move in. Small businesses can’t survive. People who care about the neighborhood spend more time fighting the code than actually improving their property.
So here’s my plea: stop hiding behind outdated zoning laws and start rewriting them for real people. Cut the red tape. Make it understandable. Get rid of rules that don’t fit modern life. We deserve a zoning code that helps our community grow—not one that strangles it.
We’re told it’s there to protect “community character,” but half the time it’s being used to block anything new, even if it makes sense. If someone wants to open a coffee shop in an empty storefront? Suddenly, it’s a “conditional use.” If someone wants to build housing on a lot that’s been sitting vacant for 15 years? They’ve got to go through three different boards, pay thousands in fees, and maybe they’ll get an answer in two years. And then we all wonder why rents are high and businesses don’t stick around.
I mean, let’s be honest—half the code is written in language no normal person can understand. It’s page after page of cross-references, exceptions, footnotes, and “subject to approval.” Try asking a zoning officer for help, and you’ll get three different interpretations depending on who you talk to. It’s not clear, it’s not consistent, and it sure isn’t user-friendly.
And don’t even get me started on parking minimums. Why, in 2025, are we still requiring two spaces per unit in parts of town where most people walk or take transit? That rule alone has killed more affordable housing projects than I can count. Developers don’t back out because they can’t build housing—they back out because they can’t build enough parking to satisfy outdated rules. So instead of housing for people, we get empty asphalt.
What’s worse is that the code seems to change based on who’s asking. Big developers come in with their teams of lawyers and consultants, and suddenly the rules bend. Meanwhile, a homeowner who just wants to put up a porch gets slapped with violations and fines. It’s not fair. The code is supposed to treat everyone equally, but it doesn’t.
And here’s the kicker: all of this nitpicking about setbacks and signage and “neighborhood compatibility” is supposed to make our community stronger, but all it’s doing is making it stagnant. Young families can’t afford to move in. Small businesses can’t survive. People who care about the neighborhood spend more time fighting the code than actually improving their property.
So here’s my plea: stop hiding behind outdated zoning laws and start rewriting them for real people. Cut the red tape. Make it understandable. Get rid of rules that don’t fit modern life. We deserve a zoning code that helps our community grow—not one that strangles it.