Thank you Madison Taylor...Hope is in the air Downtown Burlington

Dreaming of what downtown could beComments 0 Recommend 0
June 20, 2010 12:00 AM

It’s 8:40 p.m. a week ago Thursday. I’m strolling through downtown Burlington.
All is well.

I’m taking a constitutional after a quick feed at Zack’s, which is packed with customers at just before 8:30 on a summer night when the humidity is only a mildly giving wall instead of the oppressive fortress it will become in July and August. Still, there isn’t much air to breathe. A scuba-diving tank might help. But not much.

Walking, by the way, is what I do in downtown. It’s how I get exercise, move away from the desk at the Times-News and see what needs to be seen. Usually I move pretty fast. That’s not the case on this night. You can’t pound the pavement hard on a stomach full of hot dogs, slaw and chili.

Trust me.

Usually, I walk in the daytime and try to picture what downtown is becoming. Often, I circle Fifth and Morehead Streets, looking over the terrain left by the closure of McPherson’s Hardware. A guy who heard it from a guy who got it from somewhere else told me that it would be perfect place to put a baseball stadium just like the ones in Durham, Greensboro and Winston-Salem. There’s no plan to do it, mind you. It’s just a perfect place.

I can picture it. A stadium across the road from the newspaper. Sidewalks teeming with game-night fans, maybe a sports bar or restaurant nearby. Then I think of the folks who live quietly on Fifth Street and what they might think of a booming P.A. announcer’s voice in the formerly still night air: “Now batting for the Royals, Biff Portabella!” or “Please open your program to page 37 and look for the car wash ad!”

All would not be well, I imagine.

And then there’s the cost. Folks on Fifth Street don’t need to worry. It’ll never happen.
But on this Thursday night walk plenty of things are happening. Signs of life are everywhere. People say downtown is deader than fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. People say it’ll never be back. People who say those things need to see the cars in every parking space on Front Street tonight.

Well, almost every one.

And they need to see the workers at Danny’s Café on Front Street cleaning up after a day that began with breakfast or the folks milling around inside the lobby of the Paramount Theater. A few brave the heat and talk outside. I don’t take time to check what’s playing at the renovated landmark. I just know people are there.

I wish a few would bop into Anna’s Thai Café for at least a drink. I want this place to succeed desperately. Take my advice, check it out.

Across the street, kids are kneeling before a sensei at an old storefront where karate and its variations are now taught. Downtown is becoming a mixed-martial arts heaven. A kung fu movie waiting to happen. There’s one on Front Street and two more on Main. We’re raising a generation of kids that’ll definitely kick some serious butt. If only Bruce Lee lived to see it.

I walk by the consignment shops – the Gingham Daisy and Bella’s and make a mental note to come back when those places are open in the daytime. I promised my wife that I’ll find us a kitchen table in downtown.

I mean to do it.

I turn a corner and see the right spot for a book store. Not a big one. Maybe even a book exchange. A place to get coffee and read a little.
There really should be a book store and news stand here already.

On Davis Street, young people have small tables and a couple of chairs on the sidewalk in front of Wicked Needlez, the tattoo and body piercing place next to H&K Bootery. They’re a quiet bunch but manage a wave to an older guy walking for no apparent reason. One appears to be a regular customer with more than a few frequent flier miles to prove it. He’s an apparition from a 1990s Nirvana video. He’s given himself a rather extreme makeover.

I guess all is well.

The new restaurants that are alive in the daytime fade into the background at night. Perk-O-Later promises smoothies and frappes and the newly styled Lyall’s Pizza Corner is dark. In the distance I hear a rock band getting in some licks. It’s after 9 and their sound wraps around the outside of city hall, bounces off some buildings owned by LabCorp, and moves down the street until it just wears out. I trace the source to a brick building behind Alamance Dental Associates.

I stop and listen for a few minutes. Not bad.

Wish they had somewhere to play in downtown before a few paying customers. Perhaps it’ll happen when the Company Shops Co-Op opens and the busy nights downtown like this one outnumber the eerie ones when there are no sounds at all.
Maybe one day.

Madison Taylor is editor of the Times-News. Contact him by email at mtaylor@thetimesnews.com or by calling 506-3030.