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The Malling of Nassau Street
by Kelley King '98 - Mad on the Street
by Dave Itzkoff '98
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Where has the orange and black of Princeton gone? By Kelley King '98 | |
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Describing Princeton University's sesquicentennial celebration, 100 years ago last spring, the Princeton Companion speaks of a town and campus enshrouded by the same two colors. To mark the event, both the horse-drawn carriages that clip-clopped down Nassau Street, as well as lampposts and archways that dotted university lawns, were festooned with orange-and-black streamers. This was a time, in not-too-distant history, that Princeton, the town, and Princeton, the university, matched. Nowadays, however, Nassau Street seems rather like a border between two foreign nations of differing citizens with disparate creeds. On one side, we have Princeton University: a landscape laden with cornices and precipices, dignified oaks, graceful ivy. And to the north of Nassau: we have, what is shaping up to be, one more mile of strip-mall America. One morning last week, I was scurrying along the town side of Nassau Street, annoyed with the plastic covering on my dry cleaning which kept wrapping its way around my pants. I was trying, for once, to get to my religion lecture on time. While I was crossing the street toward campus, an older gentleman, his tiger-paw tie belying his alma mater, stopped me. Peering confusedly at the shop windows behind me, he asked the whereabouts of the nearest coffee shop. I hitched my thumb in the direction of the green-trimmed facade with the slick interior, huddled next to Hamilton Jewelers: Starbucks, |
 Illustration by Chris Brooks '97 |
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the fifth java joint to hit Princeton in the four years I have been enrolled at the university. The alum scratched his head and cleared his throat. He didn't believe that was quite what he had in mind. What he was looking for, was a coffee shop. His vision, I realized, was not of cafe lattes and jazz music, but of maroon leather counter stools and smocked waitresses peddling refills and apple pie a la mode. I suggested Harry's Luncheonette on Witherspoon Street. But I couldn't recommend the place; I had never been there myself, and quite frankly, had never seen anyone else go into there. I would have advised the alumnus to go to P.J.'s Pancake House, a diner whose tables are gnarled with countless, decades-old etchings of "So-and-so was here", had it not been closed because of a kitchen fire.
For the intent of my article, the burning of P.J.'s, the student haunt created a couple generations back to cater to Princeton students, is rather symbolic. Like Rialto's authentic barber shop, the orange-and-black awninged Annex Restaurant, and even musty old Harry's Luncheonette, P.J.'s is a member of a dying breed of establishments that seem to embody a unique, Princeton charm. Since I have been at Princeton, other members of this breed, including Varsity Deli and the ancient, elephantine Woolworth's, have been killed off. I'm not saying that the town of Princeton is neglecting the students. In fact, its a pretty safe bet that most of the new crop of stores in town are targeting our needs, or at least, pockets. Besides Starbucks, the new kids on the block include Einstein Bagels, Triumph Microbrewery, Foot Locker, and, the self-consciously hip, hybrid cafe/computer terminal, Totally Wired. Although, in the last case, I think we all can suspend the urge to e-mail while dining, most students like good bagels, good beer, and quality running shoes at their fingertips. I hold no grudges against the idea of trendy chain-stores and theme-oriented restaurants in general. But I must admit a sadness that our theme-Princeton's theme-has gotten lost in the shuffle.
Before coming to Princeton, I had thumbed through F. Scott Fitzgerald's This Side of Paradise. In the chapter entitled "Gargoyles and Spires," Amory describes his first afternoon at Princeton, in which he "loitered down Nassau Street, investigating athletic photographs in store windows." I remembered this passage upon visiting the school for the first time, when I strolled with my parents past the chalked Tiger football scoreboard propped against the beckoning, open door of H. Gross Clothiers. Mr. Gross had noticed us, called my family inside, and bestowed me a warm welcome and a free sticker. This was back when his store, the premiere outfitter of Princetonians far and wide, claimed the center of town, at the helm of Palmer Square. Upon the will of the proprietor, in a business venture, H. Gross's has since been demoted to the back corner of the Square, a veritable no man's land upon which wayward shoppers might happen. Members of Princeton's potential Class of 2002, who are college visiting this season, will inevitably pass this frontispiece of Palmer Square while meandering around town for a place for lunch. Instead of confronting H. Gross's cheerful window display bedecked with orange sweatshirts, stuffed tigers, and athletic memorabilia, they will notice and soon forget the floral-print lampshades and duvets of the undeniably attractive, but all too familiar home furnishings store that has taken H. Gross's place. I hope that someone is around to give the prospective a simple, but crucial set of directions: for a real taste of Princeton, when getting around town, just follow the orange and black.
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PAW's version of a regular feature in the Village Voice (with apologies to Edmund Lee) By Dave Itzkoff '98
As you may or may not know, the week of October 25 to November 2 was students' fall break, that week-long vacation the university so generously gives us to celebrate the completion of our midterm exams. In Ye Olden Days, this might have been the ideal time to go back to the farm and help the family with the harvest. In politically charged 1971, when the break actually began, students used the time to help get out the vote before Election Day. In the present era, however, the usefulness of this recess isn't so clear. For the fourth-consecutive and final time, I was unable to leave Princeton for fall break (this year's reason: my thesis), but as I found out, I was far from alone. Since misery loves company--and in my never-ending quest to turn PAW into the Village Voice--here is a semi-random poll of others who, for one reason or another, had to spend the week of fall break on campus:
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MATTHEW Freshman What are you doing here? My family just moved out of the country, to England, so it wasn't really convenient for me to go home for a week. How do you keep from going stir crazy? I've been working at WPRB, and trying to get some studying done. It's not too bad. It's a good environment to get work done, I guess. It's kind of like a ghost town. Is there someplace else you'd rather be right now? It would be nice to go home. It would be a nice little break. Not that Princeton isn't nice, but enough is enough.
KENNETH |
 Middle: Amy, John, Mike Bottom: Courtney, Lemon, Karen |
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rather be right now? No. I'd rather be right here, doing my job that I've been here 31 years doing.
DIEDRE
AMY
JOHN
MIKE
COURTNEY
LEMON
KAREN | |