The Wake

I didn’t know what to expect. I hadn’t been to campus in about two weeks, at least not since classes had ended. Would it be a desolate wasteland? Would it be a sort of after-school yuppie wonderland? A hipster sidewalk sale? I had no way of knowing. The one thing I wasn’t expecting, though, was exactly what I saw. As I gazed down 14th avenue, it hit me: Dinkytown was breathing. After months of classes, stress, and drama, Friday afternoon felt like an exhalation; a body of nervous energy in repose.

Despite its calm exterior, not all is well in Dinkytown. The venerated campus hangout has been undergoing changes that have put some individuals on edge. The arrival of more restaurants and chains, as well as the marginalization of independent business and local culture have prompted many to ask a variation of that titular question: What’s happening to Dinkytown? Is this once-proud institution being driven into the ground by greedy corporations and opportunistic landlords (“You’re gonna help me buy city hall,” as the Dead Kennedys said?))? Or is it simply another round of the same sort of changes that have defined the culture of Dinkytown since its inception?

I found myself in Dinkytown under the pretense that the only honest answer would come from the people who work, live, and just hang out in the area. My first stop was CD Warehouse, the center of a recent controversy involving their closure and subsequent reopening. The story goes like this: citing decreased disc sales and the cost of rent as obstacles, CD Warehouse closed earlier this year leaving only a legacy and an angry letter to the world. Miraculously, the store reopened and posted a slightly more hopeful letter in which it promised to stay open as long as possible while only selling used stock and new releases. Unromantically, the reopening was actually due to the inability to find a sub letter.

Speaking to employees and customers of CD Warehouse, it was obvious that the conflict contributed to many local’s dwindling opinions of Dinkytown. Ross, the resident man-behind-the-counter, bemoaned Dinkytown’s transformation into a more “happening” place that caters to middle-aged suburbanites, complete with high prices and familiar names. He recounted his return to Camdi restaurant, a favorite of his, only to find that prices had skyrocketed since his last visit. One customer, a well-dressed hardcore fan who openly proclaimed his love of Bad Brains and Ween, lamented the disappearance of indie restaurants and places serving affordable fare. There was one thing everyone agreed on, though: there are just too damn many restaurants in Dinkytown. With old favorites like Espresso Royale, Erbert’s and Gerbert’s, Kafe 421, Camdi, and Al’s Breakfast rubbing elbows with newcomers Q’doba, Bruegger’s Bagels, Jimmy John’s, Subway, and Pizza Hut, not to mention all of the vendors housed in the Dinky Dome, it’s a wonder that Dinkytown isn’t renamed “The University Food Fair,” or maybe “A Taste of College ©.” (By the way, that one’s mine and you can’t have it). Even more egregious are rumors that CD Warehouse was slated to be replaced by a chicken joint. Yeah, I know. Ross speculated that the sort of restaurant monoculture spreading through Dinkytown is driving students away . away. “When Know Name closed, we thought we might be able to pick up some of that business. That didn’t happen,” he said. “The decrease of business in Dinkytown has had a direct effect on CD Warehouse.”

These changes bring up another very important question: what is Dinkytown? Unsurprisingly, it all depends on who you ask. While the most obvious answer would be a college town or an on/off campus hang-out spot for university kids, the area holds a lot of meaning for some people. Phil, an employee of Everyday People, Dinkytown’s premiere spot for awesome clothes, sees it as a place that “has a lot of history,” citing the numerous marches and rallies that the area has hosted as well as artistic connections to Bob Dylan’s music. The changes currently wracking 4th and 14th take on a much more sinister air in his opinion; he openly laments the fact that landlords are “Masking everything with a corporate face and taking away from the atmosphere of social change.”

The idea of an “atmosphere” and “culture” unique from the rest of Minneapolis also seems to be very important to the denizens of Dinkytown. Due to its relationship to the university, many of the area’s most well-loved and well-known businesses have become institutions to current students and alumni alike. Part of the controversy surrounding the arrival of new businesses involves the loss of these institutions and the irreparable damage done to the culture and image of Dinkytown. “We lost a lot by moving Purple Onion and Espresso Royale… it’s not the same,” opined Phil. Similarly, Cummins Books (the finest bookstore in the Twin Cities for my money) has faced faulty plumbing, broken glass, and other building problems since they moved from their old location near the corner of 5th and 14th. “It’s not the same vibe,” laments Erin, an employee of Cummins Books.

A related concern is that the community aspect of Dinkytown is being lost. Surprisingly, Dinkytown is seen by many as a friendly alternative to Uptown’s too-chic brand of impersonal commercialism. “Everybody (in Dinkytown) knows each other,” commented Grace, another employee of Everyday People, “It’s not like Uptown.” A customer trying on a fedora agreed: “I just got evicted from Uptown, and I’ve never been happier to be evicted!” he exclaimed. “Last winter, I got cabin fever staying there… I’ve never been so lonely.” The arrival of so many new chains and restaurants (combined with the disappearance of institutions like Know Name Records) has many worried that the communal aspect of Dinkytown is going the way of its independent businesses. “The chains… impersonalize what Dinkytown was,” alleges Erin, in a convenient summation of many residents’ fears about the much-loved area. A group of nearby customers agreed, complaining that the new condo development in seven corners is destroying the view that patrons of Annie’s used to enjoy as part of the dining “experience.”.” While it may sound alarmist, I found it hard to disagree. It is much easier to form a personal connection with smaller, independent vendors who deal with customers in a more personal manner than with the managers of a fast-food chain. To wit: most people are more likely to swear allegiance to their favorite “hole-in-the-wall” restaurant than McDonald’s. (Apologies to everyone whose favorite restaurant is McDonald’s; I have nothing against you). Furthermore, Dinkytown is Dinkytown (with a capital “D”) because of the unique businesses that can’t be found anywhere else. Without them, it would simply be a glorified version of the Southdale food court, and I’ll be damned if I’ll ever acknowledge Dinkytown if Pac Sun moves in. Of course, as Ross was quick to point out, there is no reason that large corporations and their employees can’t add to the local community, citing the fact that employees from chains like McDonald’s are always present at the yearly Christmas get-togethers that define Dinkytown’s community. “One thing Dinkytown is good at is creating a community feeling,” he added.

It is also unfair to ignore the personal side of such businesses, as the employees of such chains also share many of the same concerns as the independent vendors. Tyler, an employee of Q’doba, admitted that “(Large) businesses don’t add to the culture” and expressed worries that corporations are pushing out smaller, independent businesses. Despite this, he observed that chains (like Q’doba) serve students, give jobs, and mix up the corporate culture of the area. The blame also can’t be placed squarely on the chains, as many are wont to do. Landlords are also doing their part to gentrify Dinkytown. As one manager of CD Warehouse was apt to point out that the combination of rising property taxes and cutthroat landlords means that it is not economically viable for a small business to open up shop in the area. He speculated, sadly, that large chains may be the only entities who can afford the area’s rent within ten years. With Cummins Books and many other businesses forced out of their previous locations (sometimes under false pretenses – Cummins was supposed to be replaced by a Kinko’s and a remodeled interior, but neither came to fruition) at the merest mention of a tenant flush with cash, it’s easy to see how careless and money-hungry property management could be bringing Dinkytown down.

Of course, if there’s one thing everyone agrees on, it’s that Dinkytown is still an awesome place. With an inimitable community and enough unique businesses to warrant its reputation as a singular entity in the Minneapolis landscape, Dinkytown will always be a great place to shop, eat, or simply hang out. As Ross aptly put it, “Dinkytown has character.”

As I left the area, I walked in on a theological debate between a staunch atheist, an eccentric Jew, and a vocal Muslim man. As things heated up and the Jewish guy flashed me his vintage Borg t-shirt, I had to agree. Dinkytown has character.