Bye bye Burlington: why'd you have to change?
abby robitaille '09 -- echo photo editor

I have always been a steadfast Burlington girl. Everyone knows this. Lately, however, I’ve been feeling a little bit stagnant after 21 years in my beloved Queen City.

I’m sure a good deal of this melancholic attitude has to do with the large number of impending graduations staring me in the face, none of which are mine. Although watching some of my favorite people go off into the wider world will be painful, I don’t think that’s the only thing making me think that maybe I’ve been here a little too long.  

Yes, I will watch my little brother graduate good old Champlain Valley Union and head off to college armed with nothing but his snowboard and his dry wit. I will also watch some of my closest friends head west to make lives for themselves in cities with more prestige, more job opportunities, and more bars. (I have senioritis already, and I don’t get to snatch that diploma and make a break for it until 2009.)

But graduation is one of those regular transitions that come around every few years, like wearing out one pair of Vans and getting blisters while you wear in the new ones. Some changes are a little more permanent, and I think it’s the number of BTV landmarks that have died out over the past few years that truly bring that nostalgic tear to my eye.

For those who weren’t here the first time around, grant me a few words to pay tribute to some true Burlington institutions.

Once upon a time, Battery Street Jeans did not bear a misleading name. Though it now sits on Pine, it originally made its home in an old garage on lower Battery. In high school, it was a regular stop on the Burlington thrift-store circuit that my friends and I diligently patrolled. Battery Street was unheated and grungy, but one of the best places to score ironic vintage t-shirts from the dollar bin. One could also unearth Levi’s that had been taken in to optimal punk-rock tightness by a previous owner, or so-bad-it’s-good ski jackets from the eighties. The new place never seems to have the authentic seventies aviators one could frequently procure in the old garage, nor does it have any atmosphere.

And what about Higher Ground? People who didn’t grow up here won’t remember when it was located in a strip mall by the river in downtown Winooski, because that strip mall doesn’t exist anymore. The old Higher Ground was home to a pool table, graffitied bathrooms, and a permanent haze of cigarette smoke produced by the townies at the bar. It was tiny, but it played host to most of the bands we idolized as 16-year-olds of the indie-rock persuasion. Sure, the new place is bigger, nicer, and has far more militant security, but where, I ask you, is the heart?

Probably the earliest of my generation’s Burlington landmarks to go out entirely was The B-Side. Few people seem to remember Cherry Street was the home of a skate shop. Although I am a reluctant devotee of American Apparel’s socially conscious cotton goods and buy my Nike Dunks at Maven, the two retailers that now occupy the void The B-Side left behind hardly fill it. Home to a small indoor half pipe and abundant free stickers, The B-Side was a staple. I still have the original B-Side skateboard I was rocking in eighth grade. Since local skate and snow outfit 802 mysteriously went out of business last summer, we find ourselves once again without a legitimate skate shop within the limits of our fair city.

Then we have the Oasis Diner, which made its home on Bank Street for years before even my parents were bumming around Burlington. It was the world’s most comforting place to go after a night of booze, loud music, or anything else Nancy Reagan would not approve of, to sit in vinyl booths and rehash the evening over toast and coffee. The day I heard the Oasis was being turned into a Jewish deli, I was disbelieving, but the day I noticed the towering Oasis Diner sign had been taken down, I felt a little piece of my heart go with it.

In addition to these fine institutions I have witnessed the closing or altering of such landmarks as the Dairy Queen in the North End, and the Burlington Army Navy where we used to buy bandanas in every color under the sun. This is a worrying trend, and I have to ask myself, what’s next? Will Nectar’s stop cranking out gravy fries, will Ahli Baba’s quit the falafel business? Will we be forced to swill PBR alongside a bunch of townies at a dirty bar other than Esox?  Will Kountry Kart Deli turn into some lesser eatery that is open anything less than 19 and a half hours daily?

I guess I should take the hint. It will soon be time to follow the herd to Seattle, Austin, Denver, or some other town where life is one big question mark. If I have to watch a place evolve, it’s going to be some place that I’m not quite so invested in.  

Some people may say that I’m growing out of Burlington, but I’m pretty sure that Burlington is starting to grow out of me.