The 21st Century Main Street
Years ago, my introduction to Lawrence was at a lunch counter downtown. I sat atop a spinning, vinyl-upholstered stool drinking a cup of coffee while the waitress, swaddled in polyester, engaged me in friendly conversation. I was reminded of Sinclair Lewis’ novel Main Street. "Ahh, quaint, small-town America," I thought. In walked a dude with a Mohawk sailing a foot off his head. He ordered a hot dog fresh off the heated metal rollers and handed me a flyer. That night, his band was headlining at the Bottleneck. Today, the lunch menus have expanded well beyond weenies and the coffee is much improved, but downtown Lawrence is still a crossroads for this kind of cultural contrast. Dualities abound. It is simultaneously regional and cosmopolitan, insular and eclectic, inveterate and changing.
To many people, Kansas may as well still be a territory. Living in Lawrence, however, has taught me that stereotypes are tiny fragments of a complex and elusive truth. Slivers of truth are magnified at the expense of a rich whole. In my own case, I probably use my hands while speaking more often than other Americans, and I possess an unfriendliness and am quick to anger. Yet, even though I am from New Jersey, I am not Tony Soprano. However, it's easy to forgive those few who confuse me with Tony because I'm as guilty as anyone of this error in judgment. You see, I came to Lawrence with many misconceptions of my own.
I didn't exactly expect to find Grant Wood’s "American Gothic." Admittedly, I had my presuppositions all replete with banjo accompaniment. I knew it was a university town, but it was "Kansas" after all. I expected to run into a gap-toothed hayseed now and then. But the truth is, nailing down the Lawrencian character is not easy. The downtown is an improbable medley of persons, places and things. About the only sure thing you'll find is contradiction. You may run in to a banjo downtown, but don't be surprised if it's accompanied by a cello.
You begin to notice this Lawrencian potpourri in the art and architecture downtown. Many of the original facades have been restored by entrepreneurs who have removed the aluminum-slipcover mistakes of the recent past. A walk downtown reveals traditional American "Main Street" architecture with wide, historically commercial plate-glass windows for shoppers and voyeurs. This is interspersed with bright, mystic Gothic spaces, Romanesque arches and Beaux Arts influences, much of which is built of native limestone. A Japanese Garden sits beside the Watkins Museum, and a variety of sculpture lines Massachusetts Street (more commonly referred to as "Mass Street" by the locals). Many of the pieces are entries in our annual Outdoor Sculpture Exhibition.
On the sixth, seventh and eighth blocks of Mass Street, you’ll find murals by David Loewenstein, clear expressions of this city's multiple personalities. Enter any of the businesses and visual art greets you at every turn. Wheatfield's Bakery and the Bourgeois Pig rotate the work of many local artists, not to mention the slew of galleries like the Phoenix, Silverworks, Olive Gallery, Signs of Life, Free State Glass and on and on. The wide array of scrumptious eateries and idiosyncratic shops speaks to the eclecticism of the downtown. Lawrencians are savvy enough to allow some room for a few big, no-risk, national vendors, but locally owned businesses are the norm.
The downtown is the center of social life in Lawrence. It is bustling with activity from indigenous to foreign, familiar to new. Try something you wouldn't do ordinarily. Act on a whim. If you were inclined, you could get a new tattoo at Skin Illustrations, then slip around the corner for an ambrosial French meal at the Bleu Jacket. You could sip on a fresh Brazilian lemonade from La Parrilla, while picking out a pair of Tibetan earrings at the Casbah. You could throw back a martini in Teller's cool contemporary ambience, then step back in time to challenge the local pundits at Ernst & Sons Hardware.
If you’re looking for something more traditional, catch a movie at Liberty Hall, then buy your sweetie a Sylas & Maddy's old-fashioned double-dipper ice cream on a homemade cone. Or, just sit and listen to street musicians while watching the citizenry ─ profane to worldly ─ idle by.
Looking for something a little more unorthodox? Want to change the pace of your life? Speed things up? Slow things down? Try a hedonistic massage at Salon di Marco, then quicken your pulse by stage-diving into a mosh pit at the Bottleneck. Learn to waltz at Camelot II, or just wiggle any which way at the Granada. Drop-in to a relaxing mid-morning class at the Yoga Center, then enjoy a huge helping of barbeque at Vermont Street BBQ (on Mass). In downtown Lawrence, there needn't be any dogma but your own.
Ultimately, it's the people that make the downtown an adventure. As my father put it on a visit here, "What is this? Halloween?!" My old man is given to exaggeration, but if America is a melting pot you'll find the ingredients in downtown Lawrence. I have bantered with ancient stoic farmers, laconic and hilariously crotchety. I've vexed over Jayhawk basketball with devotees and detractors. Parleyed insults with garrulous, back-slapping artists delighted just to be doing what they love. Exchanged repartee with uncharacteristically attentive and self-effacing intellectuals ─ a nice mutation from the windy pedants of the East. And, of course, I've met the most stereotypically friendly Midwestern people. The point is, downtown Lawrence accommodates everyone ─ all kinds of people. There's room for those who want to "Honk for Hemp," or for those who'd rather "Honk for Jesus" (soapboxing you may witness on any given day). Bouffant or beehive, crew cut or curls, pompadour or ponytail, mullet or Mohawk, Lawrence has the quirky and the curious, the cozy and the comfortable ─ and downtown is the nexus.
