Originally Published in the Brookline TAB July 1998

I know well the motto that goes “the one constant thing in life is change.”I also know that if you spend any time in Boston you’ll know the appended motto that goes “the one constant request in life is spare change.” If you live in Brookline, you should get used to the commercial districts doing a little three-card monty, but even after all this time it can still be shocking. Some changes are good, like the new alley at the Coolidge Corner Theatre.  Some are mysterious, like why Harvard Street becomes one lane at JFK crossing.  Some changes seem good but then turn out to be bad, like the smoking ban. Some changes seem like they’ll be bad, but then turn out to be good, like when the Corrib Pub chain took over Irving’s (there was general alarm, but now it’s a welcome part of the neighborhood). Some changes seem bad and stay bad, like Brookline’s new zip code.  I’m not ready to decide about the replacement of my beloved Washington Square White Hen Pantry by Cambridge Eye Doctors, but I’m hedging my bets.

Maybe I’m overreacting, but I was just finishing up the paint on my new “Go Home Cambridge Eye Doctors” protest sign when I realized why I’m so mad. It’s because I think the Cambridge Eye Doctors might be the root of all my problems in Brookline. For starters, those Cambridge Eye Doctors probably don’t even take the convenient #66 bus fromHarvard Square; they probably drive and take up valuable parking spaces. Do I go to Cambridge and open up “Brookline Columnists?” Secondly, we’ve got plenty of eye doctors already, like those at Vision Care Center.  (It should be noted, in all fairness, that Cambridge does have a fine eatery called Brookline Lunch, but it is so named because it is on Brookline Street.)

Sure, the Cambridge Eye Doctors are probably courteous and professional, but can they offer quality lenses in about an hour, like Lenscrafters?  Can you get a cheese burrito there at 1:00am? And what kind of haven will they offer for the police officer, who on weekday mornings is out there making sure kids get to school and commuters get safely to the T?  At least at the White Hen, a police officer could get a cup of coffee and maybe a danish.  When that went out two years ago, Washington Square’s finest had to make do with the Family Restaurant to stay warm, and OK, maybe also to get a little coffee and danish. But then they lost their lease, and now those who protect our kids and commuters have to make do with CVS, which doesn’t have danish or coffee.  Like our cops, I lived in the hope that something truly magnificent would come to the empty Washington Square storefront, like a bakery or a 35-foot Madonna.

The presence of the Cambridge Eye Doctors also means that the invasion of Brookline’s commercial districts isn’t going to end with Corporate Mall Stores like The GAP, Barnes &Noble and Sam Goody, but will now include assaults from neighboring communities!  If you don’t believe me, just ask my good friend Mag, who upon driving up Beacon St. to visit me got lost because the first store she saw upon entering Washington Square was “Cleveland Circle” Travel.  She thought if she drove on she would get to Washington Square, but a block later she saw “Brighton” Shoe Repair and panicked. She made a U-Turn at West Coast Video and started driving the other way, but when she saw “Cambridge Eye Doctors,” she pulled over in confusion and started weeping. 

It had been a long time since her last visit and she asked me what happened to the White Hen Pantry.  I told her that as part of the X-files-like conspiracy to rid Brookline of the “bad element (The Allstonians, travelling JPers)” all of the convenience stores had been driven out of business.  I didn’t know if the wily Opticians from 02138 were behind it.  It started with the Store 24 at the corner of Babcock and Harvard (now a GAP).  Then went Convenient Mart at JFK crossing, which was replaced by a store without an English language sign.   The Christy’s in Brookline Village almost went out of business; the franchise skedaddled out of there and was replaced by the suspicious “Brookline Food Mart.” Following that, Rose’s Mart at the corner of Alton and Harvard went busto and remains empty to this day. Sadly, it still has a lottery sign in the window that proclaims “you could be the next big winner.”

Of course, the final horror was the horror de tutti horrors: the untimely forcing out of the White Hen Pantry in Washington Square, and its ultimate replacement by the eye doctors from across the river.

This winter, I hope Washington’s Square’s police officers will be able to stay warm at the corner of Beacon and Washington at the new Five Seasons restaurant (if it ever opens), but maybe they’ll have to make do with the eye doctors and a cup of saline.

Originally Published in the Brookline TAB October 1997

Being given the chance to write about Brookline made me reflect on how, in the words of Frank Sinatra, this is my kind of town. No matter what the people from the surrounding towns say, I love it. From the top of Beacon to the bottom, from the Jamaica Brook to the Allston Line, from the Purple mountain’s majesty,  well you get the idea.  

Some people think our little town is in trouble. Some say we’re “going through a transition.”  Whatever it is, it’s certainly going to take a long time and feel a lot like going through puberty until we get there.

As a Brookline zealot, I try to do all my shopping in Brookline’s commercial districts, but over the years it has become distressingly difficult. Some great stores have been driven out of business by drooling, greedy, absentee landlords, but I have persisted. My wife has been fulfilling all her shoe needs in Coolidge Corner, but Iam getting tired of getting all my clothes at Beacon Yarn. Of course, I will bravely soldier on, watching my beloved stores disappear one after the other, feeling a bit like Rose Kennedy in the late 60’s. 

The recent tragic closings of some of my favorites and the arrival of new chain-type stores that can afford the rents demanded by the hunchbacked, fish-carping landlords has caused me great concern. While preparing this column,I tried, but failed to locate the owners of the recently closed shops such as Pugsley’s, Creamand Puff Bakery or Rose’s Convenient Mart.I did however, catch up withKarenDrummey, owner of The Casual Cup, just as she was arranging her going-out-of-business sale.  I asked her if she wanted to go on the record about the shiftless, cretinous landlords who were ruining Brookline.

She said that she was leaving mostly because she felt like it was time to move on, and that she had tried to sell the business, but   interested buyers feared the rent .  She also mentioned that the recent closings of her neighbors Betsy Jenney, Life’s ABagel and Nature’s Health left her foot traffic wanting. Her most telling comment was,  “All I hear from the people of Brookline is that they don’t want chains to come here, but given the choice, that’s still where they go to shop, eat and buy coffee.”

It is this comment, and the idea that Brookliners might be enjoying the milk without buying the cow (or worse, buying a Holstein at Starbuck’s) which I will continue to write about in these TAB pages for as long as they let me. Through this column you might come to know your local store owners: the people who fix your shoes, schmear  your bagel, or sell you a magazine..  And then, maybe, if you don’t already, you’ll grow to love Brookline the way I do

I grew to love Brookline even though my earliest experiences in the town were bad.  Like the time Videosmith forced me to pay $69.50 for the film Labyrinth which I had forgotten to bring back, or the time that in a fit of pique, I  ate all the crumpets at the Pewter Pot and was forced to wash dishes. Or the time that my shirt accidentally  got caught on and unhooked the sneeze guard at Edibles. I dragged it for blocks before I got a ticket for obstructing a public way in front of Rubin’s.

Despite these calamities, I still fell for Brookline.  Brookline’s  people, squirrels, parks and especially its stores felt like home to me.  Even when Jaffee’s Pick-A-Chick picked another chick, and when Harvard Wine and Cheese kept the “Harvard” but moved to Beacon (and adopted terrible  lighting), I still loved it.  When The Coffee Connection mysteriously moved across the street from itself and confused everyone, I stayed true.  Brookline has my heart because it supports Brookline News and Gift and  Irving’s Toy Store, even though they both carry new products from manufacturers who went out of business decades ago. Even with monstrous competition looming large, The Coolidge Corner Theatre and The Booksmith have not only held their ground, but flourished.  It is that spirit, that symbol of resiliance which will give us pride and hope in these dark days to come, while we wait for our town’s acne to clear up so we can go out again in public.

Robert Deutsch is a fifteen year resident of Brookline, A Member of The Board of Directors of The Coolidge Corner Theatre Foundation, The Founder of Citizens for Washington Square, A Candidate for Town Meeting, and a real tired guy.

Originally Published in the Brookline TAB April 1998

While I was shopping last week, I was accosted by Mike Kerstein, of Simon’s Shoes. He asked how I was and commented on my worn-out shoes.  Changing the subject, I said I heard he had gone to the Selectman’s meeting the other night and asked him why.  He told me after decades of living in Brookline, he had realized he was a “townie.”  I immediately inspected his teeth. He went on to say that he  went because of the controversy about parking.  Apparently, The Board of Transportation, responding to citizen requests, had recently designated 51 of the 143 parking spaces in the Centre St East lot as resident-only parking.  You may not have seen the signs marking these parking spots, because they are barely noticeable. One important mucky-muck has already reported getting a ticket for parking there after 8:00pm.

The merchants who knew about this change went ballistic. The rest I talked to about it were not even aware that this piece of legislature had been passed. In fact, most of them were hearing about it for the first time from me. (I made a note to get out of the house more often.) One merchant said, “From an aerial view it looks like there’s plenty of parking here. But it’s not true. Parking is a problem here, and this action simply compounds it.” 

We all know the feeling of coming into a busy shopping area: You are near your destination, and you’ve entered “the parking zone.” You offer up a prayer to the Parking Gods and let your infra-red laser-beam tracking eyes take over. You survey: she’s walking slow, he’s looking at the car knowingly, KEYS OUT! Ah! The delight in a job well done—you’ve found a spot. Folks need to be able to drive to their commercial district to do chores, shop or just consume some ginko biloba without parking hassles. Why, without adequate parking, Coolidge Corner could be like Inman Square— a great place to go, if you want to suffer the misery of driving around for an hour, settling on a resident only spot, and then getting a ticket anyway. 

The Centre Street East lot needs to be fixed. A simple mathematic equation reveals the logic—there are now 92 unlimited spots left in that lot available after 8pm.  If you figure that The Coolidge Corner Theatre can seat 900 people at its capacity, and restaurants like The Coolidge Corner Clubhouse, The Tam, Zaftigs, Takeshima, Noble House and the others can seat more than 400 people, and that Booksmith, Jera’s, Brooks, CVS Pharmacies and Videosmith are open late —well you get the picture.  Now, if two trains leave Chicago….

Fearing stigmatization from the town, few of the merchants wanted to go on the record.  Fearing my breath, even fewer wanted to talk to me. The general consensus was this: the town needs to addresses the severe shortage of parking spaces immediately.   Mike K told me that umpteen reports and been commissioned and that umpteen reports concluded that “more parking was needed.” He said clearly, the solution was simple: “deck the lot.” (This is lingo you will hear a lot if you wade into these parking waters. It means to build a second level above the existing parking lot.)

Even though it seems like a reasonable, easy solution, “decking the lot” is apparently a big problem.  The residents want more parking (as evidenced by the long waiting list for spots), but are afraid of that more parking will bring the unspecified, unwanted “other” into town (maybe the dreaded Allstonians).  They’re afraid that more parking will increase noise and traffic and generally “commercialize” the district.  The merchants want more parking, and they deserve it, as far as I’m concerned.  The merchants need their own spaces so they don’t have to run out and feed meters every two hours  and bring down property values. They should also not use up spaces that might be used by their potential customers.  Guests of our beloved Coolidge Corner need to be able to drive here and find a spot. Otherwise we will continue to lose valuable customer traffic to malls and other areas with better municipal parking, like Newton Centre or Alberquerque, New Mexico. This will lead to loss of merchants (see Stride Rites defection to the Mall) and then guess what….higher taxes.

Despite this problem, residents are reportedly apoplectic about the look of the lot—they don’t want to change a thing. They are protective of the concrete landscape as if it were designed by Frederick Ohmstead. I myself am not eager to see the whole thing broken, turned upside down for months, and replaced by a horrific concrete monstrosity.  This means that the folks in charge of the Big Dig or the Pierce School shouldn’t be anywhere near this project.  I asked Mike K if he know to avoid the resultant parking edifice eyesore.  He replied, “What’s to know? You throw up some flower pots—it’s gorgeous.”

As we continued to talk about the dilemma, Mike took my hand, grabbed his umbrella in the other, and led me outside through the Coolidge alley, to the edge of the sidewalk that faces the parking lot. He stood me straight and pointed to the whole thing. “They’re going to change this?” he asked in a mocking tone.

I told him that he didn’t need to be so dramatic, that I was writing a humor piece. “You sure are.” He replied, laughing.

He turned around and left me. I went back to my car. It had a ticket.

Originally Published in the Brookline TAB August 1998

You know that I write about Brookline and its commercial districts.  This column is often about the noble individuals who struggle to maintain their businesses and imbue our community with value and meaning.  These people are celebrities to me because it is they who make Brookline such a special place to live (I’m not taking anything away from the green spaces, historic buildings, safe, clean streets or proximity to Boston). Kenny Jaffe is such a person. As both a townie and a celebrity, he represents the missing link between the old Brookline of yore and the new Brookline ahead.

Who?  Kenny Jaffe, now Program Director for Bay State Federal’s Charitable Foundation. Still drawing a blank? Jaffe’s Pick-a-Chick?  Pick-a-Chick Underground Deli? KJ’s? You know – tall, mustache? If you lived in Brookline, chances are, he served you a corned beef sandwich or a bowl of matzah ball soup. You might not remember him, but you’re in the minority.  

His last venture, K.J.’s, went under, but  Kenny Jaffe is still so recognizable that  even if he’s opening a $100,000 CD for someone they will inevitably ask him for his potato salad recipe or for his father’s top secret recipe for chopped liver.  “I’m asked about it every day.  Not in the Foundation, but in the Bank. We’re doing bank business and people still approach me to tell me that my father catered their son’s bar-mitzvah.”  

Kenny is different from other Brookline merchants whose businesses are no longer. While they retired, were forced out, sold the business to Starbucks, passed it down or left town, Kenny is still here in 02146.  He made his bones working at his father’s place, Jaffe’s Pick A Chick (located where Videosmith is now) in the late forties.  In 1988 he struck out on his own with his own rotisserie and deli, Pick-a-Chick Underground Deli (located where Casa Mia is now) and seven years later, K.J.’s (now the home of Zaftigs). The original Pick-a-Chick was an institution.  “Of course those were the days when the S.S.Pierce Building had S.S.Pierce in it.”  

“Those were the days when you could go to another Coolidge Corner institution like Waldorf’s (where Cambridge Eye Doctors was) get a tray, cafeteria style, and put it down, and there would be affordable half grapefruits. In those days you weren’t paying for the whole citrus crop.”

Jaffe said that he shops locally and is firmly committed to supporting small businesses, but recognizes that the cost of doing business in Brookline is probably keeping a lot of the small businesses away.  

“I miss Jack and Marions.  I miss the local hardware stores and the hat shops, but most of all, I kind of miss  Adam & Eve.  It was the  stylish store.  It brought an interesting, different crowd to Coolidge Corner, and it wasn’t a CVS or an eyeglass store.”

Asked what went wrong with his own restaurant,  Jaffe said that with K.J.’s, he had gotten “in over his head.”  After it closed,  he was out of work for the longest period of his life—six weeks.  

During this time he was at undergoing some routine tests at the hospital when an unrequested test revealed early stage Kidney cancer, which he beat. Later, walking “blindly” through Brookline, he was approached by Denise Renaghan,Executive VPand COO of Bay State Federal Savings who pulled up next to him and asked what he was doing.  She offered him a job at BSFS, and he jumped at the chance, despite his own confession that the most complex calculations he had ever done were for the amount of meat on a pastrami sandwich, and the best writing he had done was his menu.

Within a year, he was given the title of Program Director of the Bay State Federal Savings Charitable Foundation, a title of which he is proud.  “I’m first and foremost a townie,”he said. “There are not a lot of us  left, but there are even less of us that can give back to the community and make a difference.”  

On his recent promotion, he added “The community supported my family for 50 years. Now I have the opportunity to give something back. I have the opportunity to make Brookline a better place to live—which essentially was my goal the whole time, and my father’s before me.” Now he can do it with money instead of one pastrami sandwich at a time. 

He admitted that he still craves a corned beef sandwich every day,  but still wouldn’t reveal the secret recipe  for chopped liver to me. We agreed that the fact that he can guide the foundation to give amounts that count to the town that raised him, as well as to the type of medical programs that saved him, is wonderful. 

Jaffe looks forward to hearing from Brookline’s charitable causes and any old customers (but no take-out orders, please). His number is 617-739-9678.

He plans to continue the work he did at his restaurants, of  working with the elderly, community donations, and general goodwill, and gave the impression that we should expect to see his fingerprints all over a host of exciting new allocations around our beloved town. He was still in awe that a failed restaurant dream and a cancer scare could lead him to a place where he could do and return so much good. “And that” he said, “has meaning.” 

Originally Published in the Brookline TAB June 1998

Spring is here. And though it only seems to last a short while in New England, and is more widely known as “that week between Winter and Summer,” it is a glorious time of rebirth. It is a time when new businesses bloom, some people clean and my nephews hit me up for money.

Spring’s arrival made me consider the life cycle of businesses in Brookline. New businesses can be thought of like flowers (but only by those with a penchant for bizarre metaphors) that arrive full of hope and splendor, only to have winter’s cruel winds knock them down. But it’s not just winter that tears them down, there’s “The Curse.”

The Curse is when a storefront goes through multiple transitions in a very short period of time. Why does it happen? Were these businesses built on a sacred burial grounds?Were they involved in the breakup of a marriage or a did a mysterious murder take place at that location?We don’t know. All we know is that every time we pass that storefront, it changes. People who pass can often be heard asking “I wonder what that’s going to be next week?”  And when you read about what’s arriving, you shake your head and hope someone’s going to be interested in chocolate-covered fava beans, or whatever it is they’re planning to sell. 

A good example is 1358 Beacon St. For decades it was occupied by Simon Shoes, but once they moved around the corner, was replaced by the nationally acclaimed chicken take-out place “Pudgies.” That failed and was replaced by the South Shore’s popular “Life’s a Bagel.” It failed, too. Those stores are still successful in their other locations. 1350 Beacon is still empty. Cursed? You decide. 

It should be noted that I do not believe that any of these businesses have actually been cursed by some kind of magic-user or warlock, simply that they have failed to house a successful business. Some of them went out business because of cretinous, greedy landlords, unrealistic expectations, corporate takeovers, or just plain bad luck. It is also important to remember that just because a commercial tenant moves out and immediately anoints themselves with oils doesn’t prove that they occupied a cursed building, and the fact that the landlord may have committed atrocities in a former life doesn’t necessarily adhere that karma to the building’s occupant.

Many of the people I spoke to while researching this article were afraid that somehow, by writing about “The Curse” I would somehow make it come true, and what’s worse, make it come true on them. If Ihad that power, Starbucks would’ve been long gone by now, as would the dry-cleaner who sewed buttons with little anchors on them on my only good suit.   

If you bring up the topic of “cursed” buildings in front of anyone who’s not a landlord, they can probably tell you where they are, and the litany of would-be-saviors and curse-breakers that occupied them. Like sports fanatics or people suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder, it gives long-time residents great joy to rattle off that in Washington Square Duckworth Lane (at 1657 Beacon) replaced Libby’s, which replaced Haims, which replaced Freedman’s which replaced Joe and Nemo’s, etc., etc.

Let me rebuke some myths about curses. It is patently not true that the Lars Anderson Park Estate House was torn down because it was cursed, even though the political career of its inheritor, WilliamWeld, might be.

It is also a complete myth that The Circle Cinema is cursed, and that parent company National Amusements is trying to fight it by making all of their movie screens as small and unwatchable as possible.  

Unconfirmed at press time was whether or not a curse had been placed on Washington Square’s Star Market, which is one of the most reviled supermarkets in the 617 area code. However, fans of cramped, poorly stocked markets who believe their employees best serve the public while under chloroform are lighting candles in support.

First runner-up for “fixed” curse goes to the folks running La Familiga Marco (1032 Beacon—next to The Beacon Superette) who trod into a curse so powerful that some say it took down all the drug stores that dared come near it. As a restaurant-ruiner, the curse brought down a Greek restaurant (Felucca), A Thai restaurant (Pattataya), a nouveau mistake (Cafe Monagene) a decades-old steakhouse (Brown’s) and even a similarly-named chain Italian restaurant that still thrives in its other locations (La FamiligaGiorgio).  I think I know why they weren’t worried about the curse—one of the owners said she hadn’t heard of “the curse” before signing the lease.

But of course, the grand prize winner is Bob Shuman at Zaftig’s (335 Harvard). When I stopped by to talk with him, there was  an hour-long wait to get into his new delicatessen/eatery. In my opinion, that counts as a success. This is even more astonishing when you review the list of blue chippers that came before him. They include national chains like Friendly’s and The Stage Deli which failed spectacularly, right along side local start-ups like The Fisherie, Edibles, Celebrities and KJ’s.

What is Bobby doing right, we all want to know? “I looked at it as a challenge.” He said. “I’d broken the curse at other buildings before. Appetito (in Newton) was cursed. We broke it.”

Asked if he had any advice for future challengers, he offered “have confidence in your concept. Exceed expectations. And don’t believe in curses.”