The Secret To Success

WORDS Brent Rosen

I’m doing some people watching at Pinewood Social Club in Nashville. It’s in an old warehouse on the Cumberland River, and at 11:00 a.m. there are almost no open seats at any table, around the bar, or in the lounge furniture filling the restaurant’s nooks and crannies. They serve coffee, drinks, food, cocktails and wine all day long. The back half of the building is a boutique bowling alley and outside, overlooking the river, are a pool and hot tub. I watch a bachelorette party walk by headed to the pool, a doofus in a cowboy hat screaming something about Clemson Football, and a table of middle-aged people haggling over who gets the crispiest pieces of bacon from their breakfast side order. Approximately 150 people are in here, diverse in age and race, all enjoying the same place, possibly for the same reasons. And it’s making me contemplative. 

What brought all of these people here? Love of food and drink plays some role, but Nashville, from the West End around Vanderbilt to up-and-came East Nashville, boasts dozens of places with similar menus serving similar food. The space itself probably plays some role, all white walls, exposed light bulbs, velveteen furniture and exposed architectural elements, but again, the warehouse style is hardly new. A crowd gathers near the door, at least 20 people waiting to for seats, some in beards, some in hats, some pretty women laughing at each other’s jokes.

A second High Life arrives. The new La Jolla comes to mind. I like it much more than the old La Jolla. The menu feels more inspired, the use of the Big Green Egg more novel, the location less cavernous, more intimate. The service remains the same. When I go to the new La Jolla, it feels like a different world from the old La Jolla. A world where people are laughing, talking loudly, ruddy from food and drink. 

I think of True’s brunch. The bar full of service industry people ready to spend Saturday night’s money, a dining room where the church crowd drinks iced tea at tables next to young professionals grinding through mimosas in yesterday’s blue jeans, where the ratio of black to white feels representative rather than oblivious. People actually wait for tables on Sunday morning, filling the small lobby, overflowing the bar. 

Two older couples wander by, one of the gentlemen brandishing an impeccable Rollie Fingers mustache. A few paces behind are three dudes in jeans, boat shoes, and University of Georgia polos, looking furtively for either beer or that bachelorette party — hard to tell. Another couple strolls toward the the bocce ball courts, drinks in plastic go-cups. It’s 11:38 and Virginia Tech and Georgia Tech have not yet made it through their first quarter of play.

Several hardcore bros arrive. Backwards hats, long shorts, aggressively athletic footwear in a place where the only athletic activity takes place in rented shoes. There is backslapping, shots are ordered. It is not yet halftime in the early slate of college football games. I remember when I was 24, fuller of hair and stronger of liver, a time when shots at 12:07 p.m. meant “good times” rather than alcoholism. Two skinny girls wander by, their body art set to “marvelous.”  My server and I make eye contact, a subtle nod, another High Life. 

Since 2000, Nashville has grown by 25%. That means one of every four people in this bar did not exist 14 years ago. That’s a weird thing to think about. The guy in the gym shorts and loafers, the curly-headed lady who just caught me staring, the server in the spectator shoes with the on-brand teal-colored laces, the distinguished looking older gentleman in the selvage shirt — one of them was drawn not only to this restaurant, but at some point to Nashville itself.  Why?

Fun. That may seem like a simple answer, but it’s true. Pinewood Social is fun. Nashville is fun. The new La Jolla is more fun than the old La Jolla. Brunch at True is more fun than brunch anywhere else. People want to go places, to live places, that are fun. There is a lesson here for Montgomery: if you want to attract people to your business, people to your city — make it fun. Sit at Pinewood Social long enough and you realize it isn’t in the restaurant business, the bar business, or the bowling business, but the fun business.

Some movement. The entire shared-workspace table at the front of Pinewood gets up to leave — a group of 20 disappears into the rest of their day. A party of four, three parties of two and and a single guy on a date with his laptop replace the former crowd. The table introduces itself to the rest of the table, and business as usual resumes at Pinewood Social. 

Growing Pains: Parking Edition

WORDS  Brent Rosen

Lately, I’ve heard a lot of people complaining about parking in Montgomery. All races, all creeds, all ages, united on this single issue. No parking downtown near the Alley. No parking around Derk’s and the A&P. No parking on Dexter Avenue. No parking along Fairview in the Cloverdale Corridor. Everywhere inside the boulevards, a constant refrain: “parking, parking, parking.”

Some facts. The city has over 1,000 parking spots in three garages around downtown, all of which are within a quarter mile of Dexter Avenue and/or the Alley. All of those garages are free after 5:00 p.m, and during the day parking is fairly inexpensive. You can park in downtown Montgomery, you just have to be willing to park in a garage and take a short walk to your final destination.

Around the A&P, you have Pure Barre, Pine Bar, Derk's, True, Chop House and the various antique and home and ladies stores in the area, all of which draw large numbers of people throughout the day and night. Although parking in front of those places can fill up, there is always parking along Graham Street and along Felder. The walk is never longer than a block or two.

In the Cloverdale Corridor, parking along Fairview, like that around the A&P, fills up quickly. But the streets surrounding Fairview, including Cloverdale Road on both sides of Fairview, Agnew, and Boultier always have open spots for off-street parking. I used a stopwatch to time the walk from my house on Cloverdale Road in Cloverdale Idlewild to the corner of Fairview and Cloverdale, and then timed how long it took to walk into Target at Eastchase after I parked my car.  My walk from home to Fairview was only about 40 seconds longer than the walk from my car to the front door of Target. Not a huge difference, but there is never anyone parked in front of my house on even the busiest Cloverdale weekend.

Those are the facts. Now, I understand that some people cannot walk a block or two due to age or infirmity, but those people can always be dropped off before the car is parked. But for everyone else, a short walk should be no big deal. So why is parking such a talking point in Montgomery conversations?

A friend of mine likes to say Montgomery can’t decide if it wants to be Birmingham or Monroeville. The Monroeville faction will always see lack of parking as the intrusion of city living on their small town, and growth as something to fear rather than to embrace. The Birmingham faction will always see lack of parking as a good sign -- there was no real problem finding parking on Fairview until Leroy and the Cloverdale Playhouse opened, and those places have made Cloverdale immeasurably better.

It’s the same downtown. Without the Alley, The Biscuits, or the large conventions and events at the Renaissance and along the Riverfront (and the paying visitors they bring), you could park anywhere you wanted. A growing vibrant city means more people want to be there, which means easy and free parking becomes a thing of the past. That is a good thing -- Selma has ample downtown parking.

Parking is but one of the growing pains Montgomery will have to work through as it transitions into the future. Development is disruptive to existing business, existing patterns, and the existing way of life for some in Montgomery. Development, however, has reached a tipping point, and after many false starts, it looks like Montgomery is in for lasting change. Eventually, growth will normalize and parking will no longer be a code word or a dog whistle in the battle between the Old and New Montgomery. Until then, expect to hear lots of complaints from people looking to park in front of Sinclair’s on the same Thursday the Capri is showing the Big Lebowski.

In the meantime, those of us interested in Montgomery’s continued growth can do our part.  We need to start living like Montgomery is a major city. Instead of just talking the talk, we need to walk the walk. Literally. Walking to lunch around downtown instead of driving a few blocks. Parking in parking garages rather than circling around for 20 minutes looking for on-street parking. If you live within walking distance to dinner, drinks, movies, or shows, walk. This is not just a challenge to you, but also to myself.

When I moved to Montgomery from Tuscaloosa, I gained 10 pounds within a month. In Tuscaloosa, I used to ride my bike and walk for days at a time. I would leave my car in its parking spot, and forget about it. When I lived in D.C., I walked the mile and half home from work on any day it wasn’t the height of summer, the dead of winter, or raining. That was 30 pounds ago. Now, I drive everywhere, even distances as short as half a mile. Montgomery has made me fat and lazy.

Attitudes, not parking, are the problem. I’m ready to change my attitude and start walking and biking more, ready to feel like I live in a young, growing, dynamic city. I hope many of you will join me. And if that means there are more prime parking spots for those not yet adjusted to the New Montgomery, I’m happy to help ease the transition. 

Announcements, Announcements

WORDS Brent Rosen

After celebrating our one year anniversary, we did what every one-year-old does, and spent a lot of time thinking through our mission, our goals, and how we could better provide the Montgomery and greater Alabama community with the information that it wants and deserves. Wait, were you expecting me to say that we drank a bottle of milk and pooped our pants.? We're not that kind of one-year-old, or at least haven't been since college.

We realized we need to increase our interactivity, so we are bringing in more monthly columnists. One columnist will provide life advice, the other sex advice. The more abhorrent the conduct or bizarre the sex, the better. Our columnists will remain anonymous as will the identities of the advice seekers. Send us your questions and we will publish some answers.

We have also decided to stop pretending that it's 1996 and the internet barely exists. Expect more frequent updates to the website and more posts on our facebook and instagram accounts. We are kind of over twitter, although none of us can quite put our fingers on why. If you are out and about and go somewhere or see something you think MADE should have a look at, use the hashtag #madepaper, and we'll give it a look. So far people have told us to look at Truman's catfish restaurant outside Wetumpka, Jakes Fishing Club on Pintlala Creek, and some exciting Alabama-related clothing designers in New York and San Francisco. Tag your recommendations and we will follow up.

The other day I read an article about an old-school newspaper editor working in Boston or New York -- I don't remember -- who said he turned essayists into reporters by forcing them to write shorter, more to the point articles. We are going in the opposite direction, working on more in-depth, heavily-reported, essay-type pieces. You've probably noticed this emphasis over the past few months, and we will be mixing in more long-form work into the paper in addition to our quicker-reading style, makers, drink, and food sections.

Our goal in featuring long-form work is the goal we've always had: we want to find the local stories that have been overlooked or underreported and give them their due. This month we have a long story about moonshine in Bullock County; I think it's something you will enjoy. Later this summer we'll have some stories on places to visit for Labor Day day-trips, and I promise we won't just publish press releases from various hotels across the Southeast. As we leave Summer and head into Fall, we are launching MADE Sports, and will have the Bamaist and the Auburnist ready to give you their unique weekly takes before Game Day.

The final announcement is something you'll already have noticed -- we experimented with a different type of paper and size for our commemorative Southern Makers issue, and we've decided we really like it. From now on, we are going with the larger format and higher quality to show off the amazing work of our photographers and designers. I know most people pick up MADE at the coffee shop, at lunch or at brunch, and often only have time to flip through and look at the pictures. This change is for you.

As always, we appreciate your readership and welcome your comments at editor@madepaper.com.

MADE At One: A Year of Pleasant Surprises

WORDS Brent Rosen

One year ago this weekend, MADE arrived in Montgomery. We’ve gone from a bit rag-tag to a bit more professional, and have told some incredible stories over our last 12 issues. I want to especially mention the visuals from our photographers - without your work, our paper would be informative, but not beautiful. We’re looking forward to another year of getting better, issue by issue.

But now it’s time to talk about all we’ve discovered in Montgomery over the last year - some highlights from A to Z:

A. The Alabama Fusion we’re seeing at restaurants across the River Region. Wesley True has created something entirely modern, combining Southern ingredients like beets, greens, and pork with cutting edge techniques. Leo Maurelli mashes up Alabama’s finest ingredients with his Panamanian roots, creating masa out of hominy and ceviches from Gulf Shrimp. Rob McDaniel at SpringHouse follows the South’s seasons, putting together menus like a Master Gardener. David Bancroft explores the same themes at Acre, combining his Texas upbringing, love of technique, and massive onsite garden into a uniquely interesting place to eat. Four incredible restaurants, all featuring the best of Alabama, all within an hour of Montgomery.

B. The 280 Boogie in Waverly, Alabama showcases the River Region’s funkiest intentional community. Music, food, art, and incredible prints and t-shirts from Standard Deluxe. It looks and feels like a tent revival gone haywire, like someone spiked a watermelon with moonshine at a church picnic where all the parishioners wear engineer boots and irony. This year the final three acts were the Pine Hill Haints, Lydia Loveless, and finally, Junior Brown on the Guit-Steel guitar. Unbeatable. 

C. Capitol City Oyster Bar is one place you can drink heavily on Sunday without anyone looking askance. Bloody Mary’s and NFL Playoffs in the Fall, limbering up with a gin and tonic before a Clarence Carter performance in the Summer. Spring on their patio, looking out over the Alabama River, Montgomery’s skyline in the distance, with a super-light, super-cold beer. It’s possibly Montgomery’s best watering hole. They also have oysters.

D. I eat fried chicken at Davis Café too often. There’s something about perfect fried chicken in a quiet booth, the yellow floors, the cracked green upholstery, a bit of home for Southerners of every race and class. We didn’t have places like this where I grew up, and it’s a shame.

E. The Eastbrook Flea Market brings chaos to the typically staid enterprise of shopping for home furnishings. So many people, so much looking, the digging, the bargaining. The Find. A Bizarre bazaar: confederate money and ‘70’s Soul records, duck decoys and ‘40’s era cookery;  meticulously aged fauxtiques and ‘20’s deco lighting. A meal either before or after at Green Papaya makes for a great Saturday morning.          

F. The quality of Fish served at Destin Connection is why Montgomery is such a seafood town. Raw: red snapper, flounder, day-fresh shrimp and oysters. Cooked: Shrimp Po’ Boy, Bream Sandwich, boiled Bayou La Batre crawfish and shrimp. If you like fish and are buying somewhere else, stop it.

G. I haven’t been to GT South yet, but it’s on my list. I want to learn more about any place where video games, South Park quotes, and all things Whedon get mixed with a full bar. I was always more of a preppy than a geek, but that didn’t stop me from playing hours of Super Smash Brothers on the Nintendo 64. I’d like to get back into that. This seems like the place.

H. High Ridge Sprits carries on the spirit of classic Bullock County moonshining, but without the illegality. Jamie Ray and company distill Stills Crossroads ‘Shine about 30 minutes from Montgomery, in an area where you can buy 50 pound bags of sugar at the convenience store. It must be something in the water.

I. Indie Film Lab operates one of the last remaining photographic film development studios in the United States. Photographers from across the country send their film to Indie for editing, color work, and conversion from film to digital. Indie also employs some of the finest photographers in the Southeast, people whose love of film photograph shows up in the work they produce.

J. Jet-setting from the Montgomery Airport. It’s practically flying private. You walk up, get a ticket, clear security, and are seated in a bus-terminal looking concourse within five minutes of parking. The only problem I have is that the bar isn’t accessible from the terminal. You’d think they’d switch the doors around, but think again. Also, the early flight to Atlanta, right? 

K. The Kress Building, key to economic development on lower Dexter Ave. Do the Kress building correctly, and all the remaining development dominoes will fall into place. A music venue at the Kress could support another bar and another restaurant on Dexter Avenue alone. It’s a magnificent building that needs a magnificent anchor tenant.

L. Leroy keeps getting better and better. The first time I went in there they were playing a Joe Strummer solo album and serving Palm on draft. I was hooked. Since, they have added outdoor areas, trivia nights, regular block parties, a Big Lebowski festival, and lawn games on Sundays. Leroy’s other strength? The consistently best bartenders in Montgomery. It’s not for everyone, but that’s the point.

M. The Meat Markets that are Alley and Aviator BAR. After dark, these bars host the only reliable singles scene in Montgomery, and boy are those places full of eye-eferry. It’s not just eyes either: Alley and Aviator have done more to boost the birth rate in Prattville than abstinence only education. While not always my speed, they are a necessary evil -- without Meat Market bars like Alley and Aviator, young singles will never stay in Montgomery.

N.  The continued Need for delivery food remains my biggest complaint about life in Montgomery. Right now, I can order delivery from pizza places, Ala Thai, and Burger King (!?!). That’s it, and that’s bullshit. If you own a Chinese restaurant and you are reading this: make the leap and start delivering. I want Sesame Chicken and I don’t want to have to stop watching True Detective to get it.

O. The numerous Oscar nominated movies that played at the Capri Theatre in the last few months. Inside Lleywn Davis, Nebraska, Philomena. Not to mention other interesting movies like Bernie, Blue is the Warmest Color, Her and countless documentaries. When something works - like the Muscle Shoals documentary - the Capri will let it run for longer than originally intended. Local theatres have disappeared across much of America, replaced with Megaplexes that show nothing but movies for tweens. That’s the alternative. Treasure the Capri.  

P. Pulley Bones, also known as the Montgomery Cut. If you are invited over to my house, expect to be served Pulley Bones. If you see my name on a list of speakers, assume the topic is Pulley Bones. I’m lobbying chefs and haranguing butcher shops. The Pulley Bone is coming back. Start demanding them yourselves. 

Q. Adios Questplex, we hardly knew ye. Fundraising for anything but political office is tough in this town. Civic-mindedness is shot after years of us-v-them and flight to the East. When even the Mayor can’t raise enough money to fund a pet project, you know it’s lean times for Montgomery’s not-for-profits. People with money: I appreciate your occasional selectiveness, but please continue to make possible the things that make Montgomery better.

R. The Hannah Daye Ridling Bark Park where dogs in Montgomery get weird. Two separate sides, one for the big dogs, one for the little. The dogs socialize, their people socialize. Swans from the nearby lake gang up on the dogs creating a weird suburban safari. Make dog friends in the dog park, with an exhausted dog as your reward.

S. Soju tastes like a mixture of sake and vodka, but not unpleasantly. The Republic of Korea’s favorite liquor, where Soju costs less than water. At Arirang they serve Soju liberally, navigating requests for shots, bombs, and rocks with aplomb. You know it will give you a hangover from the first taste, but you will get caught up in the moment and decide you don’t care. This was your warning.

U.  Sous La Terre (“Underground”) doesn’t open until midnight. Usually, the music doesn’t start until 1:00 a.m. That’s ok though, they have windex looking alcohol and popcorn to keep you occupied, and once the music starts, I dare you to stay off of the dance floor. Mr. Pugh is a Montgomery treasure, and if you haven’t been to Sous La Terre in a while, it’s time to go again. Just avoid the rooster tail in the bathroom.

V. Do you like Tortas full of lengua, carnitas, or barbacoa? A condiment bar for tacos with cilantro and onions, pickled jalapenos, and a half dozen salsas of varying intensity? Then you must visit Taqueria Vallarta in a Marathon gas station on the Troy Highway just beyond the Eastern Blvd. Working knowledge of Spanish is a plus, but you should be able to order so long as you are fluent in head nods, hand gestures, and charming smiles.  

W. Hank Williams’s grave site has become a popular place for musicians coming to Montgomery to go for one last drink before leaving town. Unfortunately, its seems like only traveling musicians really think of Williams as part of Montgomery’s legacy. Williams is overshadowed by the more culturally relevant figures like F. Scott Fitzgerald, and more historically significant figures like Martin Luther King Jr. That’s a shame, because a Hank Williams festival could be a major tourism draw and bring a needed jolt to Montgomery’s live music culture.

X. I want to know how X-Mart has managed to stay in business despite the proliferation of internet access the River Region. I guess the margins on toys and costumes are higher than on DVDs. Please keep the pearl-clutching to yourself when I write an article on the economics of the adult bookstore business. So many questions I need answered.

Y. New Year’s Eve in downtown Montgomery was an incredibly successful evening. There were thousands of people, excellent entertainment, and even a stray four-letter word just before the ball dropped. Five years ago, a downtown New Year’s Eve party in Montgomery would have been unthinkable. Downtown New Year’s Eve is what progress looks like.

Z. Sundays at Sa Za, where all the appetizers and many of the drinks are on super special. I don’t really remember the exact details, mainly because the drinks were at least half price, but I do remember being well-fed on stuffed peppers, eggs in tomato sauce, and eggplant, and that my total bill was less than a typical entrée. My love of Sunday brunch has been well documented in the pages of this paper over the last 12 months, and Sa Za is slowly becoming my Sunday brunch favorite.

What an incredible 12 months it has been. It’s amazing what you can find in Montgomery if actually you look. 

The Most Infuriating Sentence of 2013

WORDS Brent Rosen

The botanical garden project in Oak Park is the municipal equivalent of putting $20,000 worth of rims on a $10,000 car. Botanical Gardens are something to invest in when your city already has everything; they are an amenity, not a necessity. Money spent on the botanical garden is money unspent on other projects — city funds are not limitless, and a botanical garden is not cheap. You can’t just send out a jump-suited city works crew with a couple of hoses and expect to maintain anything worth visiting. You need horticulturists, scientists, dedicated full-time gardeners, and that expertise does not come cheap. I grew up in St. Louis, where we have a world-class botanical garden, and that facility’s compensation budget alone is $25,000,000.

Now you may be saying, “but we aren’t trying to build the Missouri Botanical Garden (79 acres), but something on a smaller scale (9 acres) so the people of Montgomery can enjoy the benefits of a botanical garden.” So what are those benefits? The facebook page for “Montgomery Botanical Gardens at Oak Park” lists the following as its stated goals for the facility: “A destination for those traveling through Montgomery and for our citizenry, a natural science-based educational experience, a role model for environmentally-sound, sustainable horticultural practices, an important and profitable venue for events and functions, a plant-collections-based living museum, [and] a museum of Alabama outdoor art.”

Those benefits sound awfully familiar. In fact, I think we already have somewhere that presents all those benefits — EAT South’s farms downtown and at Hampstead. If anyone had asked, EAT South would have gladly partnered on this project, dedicating unused acreage for a rose garden or some display of indigenous flora. Instead, we now have two projects with similar missions and similar goals fighting over limited fundraising dollars. Awesome.

Yes, I am biased on this subject (see adjacent disclaimer), but that doesn’t change the fact we are building an expensive, duplicative public works project that, from the start, is not intended to be world class. So, what’s the point of doing this? I direct your attention to 2013’s most infuriating sentence, courtesy of our partner al.com’s November 7, 2013, article on the groundbreaking of the botanical garden:

“Currently, Montgomery is the only city out of the four largest in the state without a botanical gardens.”

There you have it — we need a botanical garden because everyone else has one. Does it make sense? Who cares. Do we have a Drummond or McWane or Harbert paying for it? Who knows. Does Montgomery have any historical connection to botanical gardens? What difference does that make. These are unimportant questions, because “botanical gardens.”

While I think a botanical garden makes no sense, I agree that Oak Park should be further developed. Right now the park is best known  for African-American picnics during the day and white men cruising for anonymous gay sex at night. With its prime real estate, highway access, and the interesting surrounding neighborhoods off of Mulberry St. and Highland Ave, the right project could be a major catalyst for the entire neighborhood. But the right project has to ask the right questions, and the most important question is how can Montgomery set itself apart? How can our city present something to the world you can’t get anywhere else?

One idea immediately comes to mind. Why not build the best civil rights museum in America somewhere in Oak Park? No other city has our historical legacy: from slavery to Martin Luther King, characters like Rosa Parks and George Wallace, even the recent efforts of the Southern Poverty Law Center. Other places have some of this history — Birmingham, Memphis, small towns across Mississippi — but none have it all. The Civil Rights story is Montgomery’s story, and while we have some commemorative markers, the Rosa Parks Library, and the Civil Rights Memorial near the Southern Poverty Law Center, we could fold all of that together, expand everything into a permanent collection, solicit traveling exhibitions, and create one world class museum and education center.

Beyond our historical legacy, here are another few reasons this project makes sense. First, the museum would essentially touch Alabama State’s Campus. While that university is (literally) criminally mismanaged, it still has the faculty, graduate students, and mission needed to make a major civil rights museum in Montgomery an academic center for both historical scholarship and current research into civil rights issues. Next, Oak Park is in a historical, predominantly African American neighborhood, surrounded by African American businesses, and within walking distance of a number of majority African American schools. A civil rights museum could be the centerpiece of a thriving African American neighborhood in a way no botanical garden could ever be. Also, Montgomery is only a few hours from many other Southern cities (read Atlanta), and a major civil rights museum could be a major tourist draw. The money brought in from outside Montgomery will be spent not just on Mulberry Street and Highland Ave, but also in our downtown entertainment district.

Finally, we are coming up on the 60th Anniversary of the Montgomery Bus Boycott inspired by Rosa Parks. Why not hire a development officer and use the time between now and 2015 to raise money across the United States? Go to Atlanta, Memphis, Charlotte, New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington. Meet with leaders across the United States and let the rest of the United States pay for our museum. There is no better national fundraising hook than a civil rights museum in the home of Rosa Parks, especially if that museum will break ground on the 60th anniversary of her refusal to move to the back of the bus. Have fundraising concerts, dinners in every major Southern City, newspaper advertisements and interviews with national media. Get the word out, and the development will do itself. An effort like this will put Montgomery in the national conversation, and once you reach that status, success on every level becomes easier. Either that, or build a botanical garden — maybe the rose garden can hide the pool the city drained in 1959.  

It takes no vision to try and civically keep up with the Joneses, and without this, Montgomery will continue to lurch from one half-hearted attempt at being more like somewhere else to another, never making Montgomery into “Montgomery.” A world-class, nationally renowned civil rights museum could happen here. We have all the building blocks, and this is a project we can execute better than any other city in America. We have the perfect site in Oak Park and a historic Rosa Parks anniversary to work with. This project just works. My hope for 2014 is that our city stops its infuriating attempts to be more like everywhere else, when all Montgomery needs to be successful is unashamed of itself.

Montgomery: Why Doesn't It Feel More Like A College Town?

WORDS: Brent Rosen 

 Collegiates of Montgomery, where are you? I realize this is coming out over Christmas Break, so maybe you are already home. But that does not explain where you are the other 11 months out of the year. I live in Cloverdale-Idlewild, and I can count the number of Huntingdon students I have seen with only my hands and feet. Alright, maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic. But I can certainly count the number of Huntingdon students I’ve seen NOT playing either football or lacrosse on both hands and feet.

Thing is, Huntingdon is not the only offender here. Alabama State has 12,000+ students, Troy in Montgomery has another 3,000+, AUM 5,000+ and Faulkner adds another 3,500. All told, if you add everyone up, there are almost 25,000 students attending schools in Montgomery. Let that sink in for a second before I start offering you comparisons. Ok: University of Alabama - Birmingham -- 17,575 students; Auburn University: 25,469 students; University of Tennessee 27,523 students. I’ve been to Auburn. I’ve been to Knoxville, and I’ve driven through UAB’s campus, and I have to tell you, I’ve never wondered if those colleges actually had students. So again, collegiates of Montgomery, where are you?

Colleges should be the ultimate economic development generators. First, they bring a bunch of young people to town. Young people, even those with student loans, don’t have the responsibilities of older people. This means you normally see college bars near college campuses, many of which overflow with the young and irresponsible. While those students make noise, trash, and headaches for the neighborhood, they also bring money. Money to spend at retail stores, at restaurants, at coffee shops, at grocery stores and at bookstores; money that flows across the whole economy of a city.

Then, once the rowdy is educated out of them, college students become the next generation of skilled workers. The people who become accountants, government workers, teachers, business owners, lawyers, computer programmers, entrepreneurs: the sort of young professionals you can build an entire city around. If those graduates went to school in your town, you have a better than even chance of retaining them, especially if they found their college experience enjoyable.

So, the question remains: where are all the collegiates? How can there be nothing next to Troy downtown? That entire corridor should be full of places to eat and drink, places where college students can unwind after a long day of classes, even if home isn’t downtown. Why have I never seen a Huntingdon student at Leroy or on a date at any of the Midtown restaurants? (I know you aren’t supposed to drink, but college is when you are supposed to break the rules y’all). I taught a class at Jones School of Law, and I know some of my students used to hang out at Jim & Nick’s, but most of the places on the Atlanta Highway are full of septuagenarians. Where do you Faulkner people go when you head off campus?

ASU, you can have a bit more of a pass, as your neighbors have historically felt like the less they saw of you the better, but I’ve been on your campus, seen what’s going on there, and it’s amazing. Forget about all the controversy, your school is impressive. Be proud and start showing off the quality of your facilities and your students. AUM I know the least about, and your location doesn’t really lend itself to much interaction with the community, but still -- you’ve got 4,000 undergrads over there and I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone in an AUM T-shirt.

You look at college towns, places like Oxford, Mississippi, Lexington Kentucky, Auburn or Tuscaloosa, and you see young people running around, enjoying life, doing young people things. Montgomery has just as many students, but none of the youth culture. So collegiates of Montgomery, it’s up to you. If you want more activity in your neighborhoods, go out and support it. Demand more and you can have it. It will make college more fun for you, and Montgomery better for the rest of us.

Also, if any of you collegiates are looking for internships, email a resume and some writing samples to editor@madepaper.com.

Montgomery, Two Years Later

WORDS Brent Rosen

I moved to Montgomery two years ago. In thinking about my two years living here - the new friends made, the new experiences had, the adjustments I’ve made to a new way of life - I realized that much of the Montgomery I now enjoy did not exist two years ago.
Central, True, Railyard, Chicken Salad Chick, Irish Bred Company, Wasabi, and countless Korean and Latin-American restaurants that, despite Dave Mowery’s best efforts, I still know too little about. Montgomery is no longer just fried foods and boiled vegetables; the best restaurants in Montgomery stand up to some of the best restaurants in the United States. In the coming months, we’ll add a Moe’s BBQ in Cloverdale and at least two food trucks humming around Montgomery’s streets.
    
Leroy, Aviator Bar, SandBar, the Barrah Hookah, a revamp of the Exchange at the Renaissance, the bar at the DoubleTree hotel. Entertainment districts that allow one to walk from bar to bar, drink in hand, without disobeying the law. Derk’s is now a craft beer haven, but even Winn-Dixie and Publix offer something different than old, reliable, delicious Coors Light.  If you prefer making your own beer, Fairview Homebrew can help you with all the supplies you need. And those friendly folks at the package store above Sous La Terre - can’t forget them. I’m also looking forward to Graham Woods bringing a dose of the free market to Fairview Ave.
    
The Crampton Bowl upgrades, Boat Ramp Park, the West Fairview façade improvements, Wright Brothers Park, Development of the Atlanta Highway near Faulkner, and dozens of other city-led improvement projects have made Montgomery a better looking, more interesting, and safer place to live. Outdated hotels have been razed, dilapidated buildings have been torn down, and eyesores have been removed. More projects are on the way on Lower Dexter Avenue, at Questplex, and on Mobile Street in Cottage Hill. While I’ve been critical of the city in the past, the recent outlay for EAT South to finish its second and third phase of its Downtown Farm is a wonderful sign that our leaders at City Hall remain willing to invest our dollars in the sorts of projects that have made Montgomery a hub of civic innovation in the region.
    
Speaking of EAT South, the Downtown Farm, as well as Southern Makers, EatEasy, TedEx, the revived Montgomery Street Fair, the Cloverdale Playhouse, ASU’s new stadium, the Raycom Bowl that begat the Camellia Bowl, Better Block Mt. Meigs (which will lead to other “Better Block” parties in other Montgomery neighborhoods), Denied and Underexposed, Art in Concert, Huetopia, the Marathon and bike races - two years ago, these events and venues had never been heard of. Now, these events and venues bring diverse sections of Montgomery together on a regular basis, creating a sense of civic pride Montgomery so greatly needed.
    
This sense of entrepreneurialism and possibility that pervades Montgomery is personified by Mendel Brown. Brown has lived all over the world, but now calls Capitol Heights home. He wanted there to be a place in Montgomery where he could go and have a beer or a cup of coffee, a third-space to meet for conversation, relaxation, a break from work and home. Not seeing this sort of place in Montgomery, Brown decided he would open it himself. The future small plates restaurant/bar/coffee shop is named KRU, and will be located at 2118 Mt. Meigs Road.
    
The name KRU has an interesting history. On KRU’s Facebook page, Brown explains that “KRO/KROG is a very old Scandinavian word for a tavern found in smaller towns and villages (or neighborhoods). Traditionally situated on a main road with a distance of a half day’s walk, a KRO was located where thirsty and hungry travelers could easily discover the tavern and the local citizens within. Serving simple, traditional food and beverage to both travelers and locals, the KRO concept has been in Scandinavia since the 15th century and is common throughout Northern Europe.” In Montgomery, KRO becomes KRU, a blending of old and new, a welcoming place for Capitol Heights residents and Montgomerians from other neighborhoods to come together and unwind.
    
When I talked to Brown last week he laid out some of his big plans for his space. There will be multiple decks, lounge areas, and places where friends can gather and talk. He envisions the space bringing light and life to Mt. Meigs St., an area that is usually quite quiet after dark. KRU is the kind of place an entire neighborhood can be built around, and Brown hopes that once he shows people the possibilities of Mt. Meigs, that old commercial district can once again hustle and bustle.
    
Brown had a vision for what his Montgomery looked like, and then he went out and made it happen. He is just one of many over the past two years to look around, identify a need, and then take action. I am not only looking forward to spending time at KRU, but looking forward to all of the other new projects, investments, and happenings that will spring up around Montgomery in the next two years.

The Ghost Stories We Tell Ourselves

WORDS Brent Rosen

Like most places with a long and colorful history, Montgomery is full of ghosts. Unlike most other places, Montgomery’s ghosts can’t make lights flicker, don’t stand at the foot of your bed silently watching, and won’t chase rebellious teenagers from graveyards. Montgomery’s ghosts aren’t that stereotypical, although some do wear sheets and some do drag chains.

Take Dexter Avenue, Montgomery’s most haunted street. Powerful ghosts live there, tangling and swirling together like a Ying Yang, each with a small amount of the other, an amount even the most ardent had to begrudgingly respect. These ghosts remind us that perspective is the difference between a demigod, a demagogue and a demon. Their rhetorical fervor now reduced to a murmur, but a murmur that travels on the wind blowing from South Union Street to Dexter Plaza. Something about that murmur must be frightening, since what was once Montgomery’s most vibrant street is now mainly deserted.

The haunting isn’t contained on Dexter. Scary ghosts have frightened away business on Cottage Hill and in Capitol Heights, turning Mobile and Mt. Meigs Streets into the forlorn, dusty, musty places where ghosts thrive. Were it not for the ghosts, commerce would have come back to Commerce long before 2007. Outside of downtown, the ghosts haunting Cloverdale and McGehee Estates have gotten so bad some folks established Pike Road, hoping - one can only assume -  that a place without history is also a place without ghosts.
           
If this seems like a particularly frightening ghost story, I have good news: ghosts are not real. Let me repeat: ghosts are not real. Not even a little. Montgomery’s ghosts are no more real than the Red Lady of Huntingdon, the maniac with the hook hand who prays on young lovers, or the comely hitchhiker who forgot her sweater. Remember - if you refuse to believe in ghosts, you take away their power.
I started thinking about Montgomery’s ghost stories after my visit to the Historic South Hull neighborhood and my conversation with Dr. Susie Paul. After our interview for the Cottage Tour last month, she sent me an email, an email that felt like a ghost story. Dr. Paul realized outsiders feared her neighborhood, as she explained that Historic South Hull had been “ravished by white flight for a good while,” yet she stressed “ALL of her neighbors had been welcoming and wonderful” to her. She went on: “I swear, in Montgomery, people do that ‘oh, I’m not a racist; I just want to be careful about my property value’ deal as an excuse for not moving into an area like ours. I absolutely hate to hear this. We really are black, white, and brown, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Atheist. And especially, we are affluent and poor over here.” Dr. Paul continued, “when you walk out the door here, you’re just not living in a place where you can take for granted that everybody agrees with you on most things.  You have to stretch, and this makes for greater humanity in each of us.”
           
Dr. Paul ignored the ghost stories about South Hull. She refused to believe the neighborhood was haunted, refused to see the “other” as a frightening presence. And Dr. Paul is right. Historic South Hull is beautiful, diverse, vibrant, not scary. Interestingly, Dr. Paul’s belief goes beyond anecdote: crime statistics offer hard facts, and those facts say Historic South Hull is no more dangerous than any other midtown Montgomery community - including Old Cloverdale. Those who use words like “dangerous” or “dark” to describe places like South Hull are telling ghost stories, but once you remember there is no such thing as ghosts, you see that neighborhoods like South Hull are alive, not un-dead.
           
So at the risk of being redundant, let me repeat: ghosts are not real. So now I am left to wonder something else: if there is no such thing as ghosts, what are all the people who fear Montgomery so afraid of?

The Sixth Sense of Every Great City: The Sense of Place

WORDS Brent Rosen

Great cities are great because they have their own themes, feels, moods, tones; an identity locals know without being told and visitors can feel every minute on their trip.  Great cities don’t create their identity from whole cloth, or focus-group ideas until they arrive on a theme that resonates. Instead, great cities develop an identity organically, authentically, until the identity becomes obvious. Atlanta acts as capitol of the new South, New Orleans serves as the Northernmost outpost of the morally-casual Caribbean, Nashville inextricably intertwines with country music. When taken to an extreme, these identities result in kitsch, but having a well-defined identity that all can attach to, can identify with, can respond to and want to further, is how a city becomes unique. And that matters. A lot.

Think about your favorite city… go on, I’ll wait (shines shoes, files nails, throws out expired items from fridge). Ok -- what is that makes it your favorite? It could be anything, but I’ll guarantee the reason is unique to that particular city. San Francisco and New Orleans have a lot of similarities -- the food is great, the architecture is different than any other city in the US, both utilize streetcars for public transportation -- but you would never take a ride on the streetcar in New Orleans and say to yourself, “wow, I really love how much New Orleans is like San Francisco.” Despite the many similarities, those cities remain uniquely “New Orleans” and “San Francisco.”

At this point, you might be looking for a concrete example. So here goes. I spent the last weekend in August in Florence, Alabama, and holy shit was it amazing. It was the weekend of Billy Reid’s Shindig, so I expected fashionability. What I didn’t expect was the music. St. Paul and the Broken Bones, The Bear, The Secret Sisters, Tift Merrit, The Pollies, Belle Adair, The Pyles, J.D. McPherson -- over a 36 hour span, I saw them all. The majority of this who’s who of Alabama music live and play regularly in the Shoals, so what seemed like the opportunity of a lifetime to me was “Friday and Saturday “ to the locals.

Over the weekend I learned that the Shoals comes by this naturally -- it is the home of the “Muscle Shoals Sound,” featured in a new documentary called Muscle Shoals. The documentary is about FAME recording studios, and the influence this small, unassuming studio that shares a parking lot with a CVS has had on contemporary musical culture. If you like Percy Sledge, Aretha Franklin, or Wilson Pickett, you probably like them for the music they recorded in Muscle Shoals. If you like Lynyrd Skynyrd, the Rolling Stones or Paul Simon, ditto. I had no idea “When a Man Loves a Woman,” “R-E-S-P-E-C-T,” “Brown Sugar, “ “Kodachrome,” or “Freebird” were originally recorded in Muscle Shoals.  This legacy is carried on, by the local musicians still performing regularly in the Shoals, to those acts who’ve graduated to the national stage, like the Drive-by Truckers, Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit, and the Alabama Shakes.

Music and fashion come together in Florence, creating a unique identity that everyone in town can understand, appreciate, and celebrate. For instance, some friends are opening “Odette” a restaurant in Florence in the next few months. The restaurant will be located a few blocks from the Billy Reid store, the table settings and decor will be explore the rakish Southern charm that characterizes Florence’s style, and the restaurant’s sound system will only play local music or music recorded locally in the Shoals. Embracing Florence’s identity will make the restaurant stronger, as it situates the restaurant within Florence’s burgeoning music/fashion scene. At the same time, the restaurant makes Florence stronger, serving as another outpost to enjoy Florence’s impressive, authentic culture. This beneficial relationship, when magnified across dozens of businesses sharing  a common identity or theme, creates a sense of place. It’s what will make Florence into “Florence.”

So, the question becomes, what is Montgomery’s identity? How can we turn Montgomery into “Montgomery” --  a unique place that people want to live in and visit, and not a place people commute to for work, turning around and heading back to Auburn and Prattville when the clock strikes 5:00?

A few thoughts. Almost no other city has Montgomery’s historical legacy -- from Civil War to Civil Rights -- yet, unless you read those historical plaques around town, you would never know. Montgomery could be the Washington, DC of the South, a capitol city infused with so much history you can’t turn around without bumping into a museum or historical site. I have some ideas about why Montgomery ignores this legacy, but the time for a collective shuffling, whistling, “nothing to see here” attitude has long past.

What if future development encouraged Montgomery to showcase its historic, small-town charm, while also ensuring Montgomery has enough modern amenities that residents don’t have to feel like they live in the past.  Something like “Montgomery, the Town that Lives Like a City,” a place where you can know your neighbors, fit into your community, all while remaining free of the hassles, inconveniences and expenses you find in other cities around the region.

These are just ideas to start a conversation, and this conversation is worth having. Montgomery needs to know what it is before it can develop its own unique sense of place. Montgomery must avoid growth for the sake of growth, the kind of development that makes profit in the short-term, but makes no long-term sense. Look no further than Florence to see how much a city’s reputation can change once the city develops and embraces a unique identity. Montgomery has the “Who” and the “What,” but until we give people a unique “Why” to identify with, no matter how much we promote and celebrate our city, it cannot become one of the best mid-size cities in the South.
          
 If you have thoughts, email us at editor@madepaper.com.

Let's Talk About Developments at The Department of Development

WORDS Brent Rosen

In the middle of July I received an email from a colleague in Birmingham excitedly announcing a “Before I Die” wall being created near Regions Field. The original “Before I Die” wall was painted in New Orleans, providing a way for people in the community to publicly share their hopes and dreams. If that sounds vaguely familiar to you, it should: Montgomery had its own “Before I Die” wall painted on an abandoned building next to Irish Bred Pub last Spring. Congratulations Montgomery, we are now a place other cities, including our supposedly more advanced sister to the North, look toward for new ideas.

I bring this up not just to stick my tongue out at Birmingham -- although it feels nice -- but also to highlight a major loss suffered by Montgomery. Chad Emerson, in his role as director of development, encouraged the creation the “Before I Die” wall on Dexter Avenue. He, along with Deputy Mayor Jeff Downes, also played a major role in your ability to eat vegetables from EAT South farms, have a cocktail at the pedestrianized Alley, and live in a loft downtown. Chad regularly asked people in the Montgomery community for their input on major projects, and his development department invited people to their “idea factory” for brainstorming sessions on a regular basis. Unfortunately, by the end of the summer, both Chad and Jeff will have moved on to other jobs in other cities.

Realizing what a loss this would be, a group of concerned citizens visited the Mayor to discuss replacements for these important positions. The Mayor discounted the suggestion of a Southeast-wide search for candidates, and instead appointed two locals who are steady, capable people, each with decades of relevant experience. My problem is not with either choice personally, but with the idea that both people charged with the development of the city have decades of experience in Montgomery.

Montgomery has done the easy development: the ball park is built, the anchor hotel is open, the restaurants in the alley are packed every day. Now, the development department has to build on this foundation, looking toward places like Charleston, Savannah, or Greenville, SC as models for how mid-size, Southern cities can become thriving, dynamic places. Why not hire someone instrumental in re-making those cities to help remake ours? You get new ideas by bringing in new people, especially people with an excellent history of making things happen in similar places. If we want Birmingham to keep looking toward Montgomery as a place to steal good civic ideas, we need people with new ideas working in the development department. 

There is another problem with hiring someone with decades of experience. Think of it this way: Would you ask your grandfather for advice on hip hotels, bars, or restaurants? Would you trust your aunt to create an environment where young, creative, engaged people want to live? But all joking aside, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone that understands what attracts young people when a big part of the development department’s job is making Montgomery an attractive place for young professionals.

Remember, the development department’s job is to make Montgomery a thriving place to live and do business, but how one defines “thriving place to live and do business” looks like a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Young people are starting to find Montgomery appealing, and it takes young, engaged people to make a city thrive. If the development department ignores that, Montgomery will continue to lose its young people to Auburn, Atlanta, and Birmingham, and all that will be left to develop is retirement homes.

We Need To Avoid The Southern Glossy Trap

WORDS Brent Rosen

Three months. If this were a relationship, we’d have a toothbrush at each other’s house by now, would know each other’s favorite song, would understand each other’s habits and we would begin to realize the potential problems we face as our relationship continues to evolve. This column is not about toothbrushes or favorite songs or our good and bad habits. Instead, I want to focus on what could become a problem as MADE and Montgomery continue to grow together.

I am a displaced Northerner who spends more per month on food than on all other expenses combined, who loves British literature, who prefers the urban to the suburban, who engages in horseplay of all stripes, who enjoys ironic facial hair, and who whets his whistle with only the sourest of sour mash. For me, MADE does a great job of covering stories I find of interest. Our other editors are former fashion designers, current professional photographers, journalists, marketers, bartenders, actors, musicians, architects and small-business people. We all have other jobs -- MADE is an outlet for our creativity, and the paper’s content reflects our passions. We are very proud of what we have created, but we also recognize that without vigilance, MADE could easily fall into the “Southern-Glossy Trap.”

The Southern-Glossy Trap first came to my attention last year when the Oxford American got into a war of words with Garden & Gun. Since I doubt many of you keep up with spats between niche magazines, some background is likely necessary. The Oxford American is an award-winning Southern literary magazine known for its excellent writing and focus on untold Southern stories. Garden & Gun, which bills itself as “the Soul of the South” is a beautiful magazine geared toward well-off Southerners and non-Southerners who appreciate the charm, foodways, sporting culture, and laidback nature of the South. The spat began when the Oxford American accused Garden & Gun of white-washing (literally and figuratively -- if that is possible) the South’s racial and religious past and present, while promoting “vulgar and aggressive materialism.”

While I enjoy (and have subscribed to) both magazines, the Oxford American’s criticism, while excessive, raises a valid point. You can’t be the “Soul of the South” if you don’t have voices in your magazine that represent the South in its entirety. Or, to put it another way, if your magazine claims to be about “Southern Living,” but the only lives depicted are those of the rich and famous, your magazine may have fallen into the Southern-Glossy Trap.

For MADE to truly be Montgomery’s best newspaper, we need to make sure that every voice in Montgomery is included. While I think we have done a good job representing Montgomery so far, we also know we need a larger stable of writers, photographers and other contributors to ensure we don’t become the paper for vaguely progressive, somewhat artistically inclined, food-and-drink obsessed white people. While as a group we have a diversity of interests, backgrounds, ethnicities, and personalities, we need MADE to reflect our larger, wider diversity in Montgomery. There is much more to the city, and we need help covering it. We need to avoid the Southern-Glossy Trap.

So, dear reader, if you look at our pages and don’t see you or your community accurately reflected, step up. We need your voice if we are going to reach our full potential. Send an email to editor@madepaper.com and we’ll take it from there. If we can work this problem out early, I think our relationship could last a long, long time.

You Are The Leadership of Montgomery

WORDS Brent Rosen

If you are reading this and you’re are under 35 years old, congratulations: you are one of  Montgomery’s leaders. That’s not to say there are no leaders over 35 -- there are many. Just not enough. The limited number of leaders over 35 results from the fact that until a few years ago, there were few compelling reasons to stay in Montgomery after you turned 18. Think about all of the people you know who grew up in Montgomery that live in Birmingham, Atlanta, Nashville, or New York, or California. They didn’t stick around because there weren’t many opportunities for entrepreneurial, creative, and engaged people to thrive in this town. Montgomery has a generational gap, because so much of the young population left Montgomery in the bad old days, choosing to live in places that were thriving.  

Now, Montgomery is in position to thrive. The Old Guard that made progress so frustratingly slow has, for the most part, exited the scene. Fortunately, they’ve left the city with a parting gift: opportunity. Many of this city’s oldest institutions are run by people of retirement age, and there is no one in their 40’s ready to take over. If you, under 35 year old, don’t think this is an incredible  opportunity, you’ve never talked to someone trying to make a difference in a city like Birmingham or Atlanta. In those cities, unless you have a lot of money or a deep network of connections with city elites (which, in all honestly, means you have a lot of money), there is no hope for securing a position with a civic organization, or starting a new city-wide event from scratch. There are too many incumbents using those organizations’ resources for their own pet projects. In those cities, you have to earn you way into a leadership position.

Contrast that situation with Montgomery. This city is begging young people to take leadership roles. There is no organization in Montgomery that does not want to get younger. None. Ask, I promise. Not only that, but the decisions you make right now -- where you eat, where you shop, where you play -- will directly impact Montgomery’s future.

No one will deny that in the past five years Montgomery has come a long way; there are more city-wide events, more bars and restaurants, more national touring acts playing, and more development of abandoned properties than ever before. However, Montgomery’s young people will decide whether Montgomery fulfills the potential it has shown over the last few years. If you decide to do what has always been done, then Montgomery will be the same place it has always been -- maybe a little bit better at the margins. If you decide to break with tradition, try new things and get behind the New Montgomery, you will not only help Montgomery continue to develop, but your actions will help shape the direction that development takes. That is what makes you one of Montomgery’s leaders. Don’t take your responsibility lightly.