Two Words, Easthampton: Smart Growth

Easthampton, oh how I loved you when we were young. You were the intense, quirky, dirty-kneed factory-working wallflower that I noticed and instantly fell for; I did—and still do—far prefer you to the more flamboyant cheerleader types.

Our relationship has now deepened; there’s so much water under the bridge. I’ve slept in you, dreamt in you, bled, sweat, worked, loved and cried in you. I’ve skated on your ice and have swum in your water. I’ve given you my money and my time. I’ve planted flowers and trees in your soil.

For the present, at least, we are stuck with each other. Your behavior and your choices affect me as mine affect you. It is only thus that I feel entitled to comment upon your character of late, and to question your apparent path toward self-realization.

The land, the land, the land!

Let me just be blunt: you have some exquisitely fine lines. You have dramatic mountains and an aquatic centerpiece that should be the envy of your neighbors for miles to come. You have parks and trails that allow intimate access to these God-given treasures.

But now, it appears that you have begun to forsake some of these assets, perhaps lured by the promise of commercial salvation.

Traffic has increased upon your roads. Gas stations have arisen to meet the demand. Generic-looking, same-colored, high-density housing developments have sprung up on your flanks. And soon you will be host to another grocery store, gas station, and—if progress has its way with you—yet another generic drug store. How many of these soulless stores can a small city possibly need?

Furthermore, if you must develop, instead of ruining another vista by building a big, characterless, boxy cinder block and aluminum structure, why not find a way to repurpose one of your existing abandoned buildings such as the One Ferry Street complex, or the old Easthampton Dye Works building?

All I’m saying is that if you’re going to go out and get a tattoo on your face (as you should, if that’s what you really want), just please consider that it would be appropriate to choose a symbol of your emergence—such as a button, a butterfly, or a bear—rather than a big ol’ dollar sign.

Signs of the times

There has been some uproar of late concerning the signage of your constituent businesses. I can’t speak to the legality or propriety of the disputed sandwich-board signs, but I have in fact been slapped in the face by a low-hanging “open” flag or three.

But while I personally think that an “open” flag in front of a business is slightly tacky and overstates the obvious, I wouldn’t be swift to punish the proprietor who feels she needs to hang one, if it instills a sense that prosperity is more certain. And I don’t mind making the extra effort to avoid being whacked in the head as I walk by.

As a friend of several local business owners, I have a vested interest in the positive results of marketing & advertising efforts, so I am loathe to condemn any reasonable expression as “illegal.” If you want to split hairs, it’s possible to assert that your allowing an American Flag to hang unlit at night (over a pond, no less, in inclement weather) is illegal. It certainly violates certain principles of the U.S. Flag Code. And what is the gridlock that slogs through your central arteries at rush hour, if not an affront to the public health and safety? What of pedestrian rights?

Where’s the plan, Stan?

Aren’t you developing some sort of Master Plan, Easthampton? What does it say about your character? Who are you? What kinds of suitors are you hoping to attract and keep? Or are you sublimating your coupling urges and instead being alone unto your beautiful self?  There seems to be much ado these days about zoning ordinances and the like, and questions of whether it’s smart to proceed wantonly as you try to develop prosperity.

Please, my beauty, consider what’s ephemeral, what’s permanent, and what is potentially damaging on many levels. Realize the weight of your every decision. If you’re feeling sentimental, go into Big E’s and look up at the enlarged images of the way you were more than 100 years ago. Recognize some of that beauty in your current self, and strive to retain as much of it as you can!

I believe in you.

Posted on Saturday, November 29th, 2008 .