Paint is peeling from the walls.Some of the plumbing doesn’t work.Some of the doors are so warped that they’re difficult to open.Ceilings are discolored from water stains.Railings are so loose, they’re ready to fall over.A condemned crack house targeted for demolition?Try again.We’re talking about a fitness facility owned and run by the city of Akron.Formally known as the City of Akron Fitness Center and informally known as Balch Street, the club has deteriorated so badly in recent years that one member calls it “a disgrace.”“I know, because of the economy, the city is strapped for money,” says Joe Rice, 68. “I understand that. But I just think this is outrageous. Something better can be done.”At Rice’s suggestion, I took a look. On a recent weekday afternoon, I paid $6.50 for a one-day pass and noted the conditions as I worked out.If the place is not quite “a disgrace,” it’s mighty close.In the men’s locker room, six of the 10 lockers in the first open row are inoperable. One of the two sinks is out of service — and has been for at least 18 months.Some of the showers don’t work. A speaker has broken loose from one wall and is hanging by its wires. Paint is peeling all over the place.The door to the sauna is so warped that it barely opens. Maybe it shouldn’t; the inside is a wreck, with boards jutting up and splintering.In the basketball gym, which has six baskets, one net is missing and two others are in tatters. The two main backboards are filthy. One of the side backboards is tilted radically.In an aerobics room across from the weight room (which itself is in decent shape), half a dozen ceiling tiles are badly stained, and one of two televisions is missing.Along a walkway to a racquetball court on the second floor, the railing wobbles like a drunk in a hurricane.Balch Street was born 82 years ago as the Akron Jewish Center. It was essentially deserted by 1985, when it was bought and renovated by a private group, then sold six years later to the city, which leased it to the Summit County YWCA. When the Y went broke in 2005, the city took over the center’s daily operation.Balch Street is certainly not intended to match the quality and amenities of a country club. Annual dues for an individual are a mere $200, compared with $600 or more at many suburban fitness centers.As was the case 20 years ago, the drill is BYOT (towel) and BYOS (soap), and, given the paucity of water fountains and their lack of pressure, you’d be well-advised to bring your own water as well.Instead of towels to wipe sweat off the equipment, members crank brown paper from wall-mounted dispensers.But Balch Street does have a noble mission: providing a place in the inner city where residents without massive incomes can stay physically fit, enhancing their quality of life and trimming our collective health-care costs.Unfortunately, that mission has been wounded by a lack of attention and funding.When asked whether he would be willing to pay higher dues to upgrade the facility, Rice, a retired state worker and Vietnam veteran, replies, “Yeah. I can afford it. But I would suspect that many of the folks who go there would not be able to afford much of an increase.“I suppose that leads to the question: Where would the revenue come from to fix the place up? Which is a good question.”It certainly is.But some upgrades could be made for peanuts. You can buy a basketball net from Dick’s Sporting Goods for $3.49.“And they could clean the place!” Rice exclaims. “I don’t think that floor has seen wax in a decade.“You’ve got people there who are being paid to clean — make them do it. That’s the kind of stuff there’s no excuse for.”Deputy Mayor Dave Lieberth readily acknowledges that the center has gone downhill in recent years — along with plenty of other city properties.“This is what smaller government looks like,” he says bluntly. “It is something we are struggling with citywide.”Since the recession kicked in during 2008, the city hasn’t hired one new maintenance person, despite retirements. The total number of city employees is down to 1,754, the lowest number since 1959.“We don’t have the people to perform the same periodic maintenance they would have even five years ago.”The capital budget has taken comparable hits. On the morning we talked, workers were cleaning up a mess in the mayor’s conference room because the ceiling had collapsed the night before during a heavy rain.That marked the second collapse of the same ceiling in 60 days. Temporary repairs were made the first time because permanent repairs were not in the budget.“It’s very much a situation where during the recession, we’re trying to put Band-Aids on everything,” Lieberth says.Increasing the dues at Balch Street is not a viable option, he says, because the increase would have to be astronomical to have a real impact. For instance, the long-term fix for the peeling paint is a new $100,000 dehumidifier. And pouring money into the gymnasium doesn’t make sense until the leaky roof above it is replaced.Some repairs are in the offing. Lieberth vows that the long-broken sink in the men’s locker room will be fixed shortly and that “men’s locker room issues will be addressed in the next budget year.”Still, the immediate outlook is as bleak as a November sky.“Everybody wants to shrink government, and yet they want all the services they got when we were wealthy,” he says.“Since 2008 it has been a totally different situation — and will continue to be.”Bob Dyer can be reached at 330-996-3580 or bdyer@thebeaconjournal.com.