We could discuss the Pink House demolition forever. We can ask questions like: Was it a beauty or an eyesore? Did the FWS have a responsibility to preserve it? Was its dismantling an unfortunate example of minority rule? These are all valid questions, and I’m sure they’ll continue to be debated in forums of thoughtful, respectful, and not-at-all-inflammatory civic discourse like Facebook and NextDoor. But like it or not, the Pink House is gone. That means there’s a job opening.
The Pink House was probably the most frequently-depicted structure in local art. Enter any downtown café, antique shop, art gallery, or even private residence, and chances are you’ll see a painting or photograph of our dearly departed landmark. Well, now what? What happens when a community loses its most recognizable symbol – a building to which it attaches part of its identity? The answer is obvious. We need a new symbol.
This is actually a uniquely exciting moment. We have the luxury of choosing our next generation’s “Pink House” – our very own Statue of Liberty — which will be reproduced in art, and reverently visited by locals and tourists, for years to come. It can be literally anything: a house, a statue, a natural wonder, a restaurant, or maybe even a person.
Let me propose some ideas.
The Fowles Sign– Fenway Park has the CITGO sign. We have the Fowles sign. An old sign for a long out-of-business cigar shop and diner would surely ignite as much “eyesore vs. beauty” controversy as the Pink House, and as such, might be its most fitting successor.
The Abandoned Shack Next to Bob Lobster– The nearest cousin to the Pink House is probably that dilapidated brown shack next to Bob Lobster. We love ourselves an abandoned structure against a marshy backdrop, though this one might be a little too abandoned, and “structure” is a generous description. I don’t know anything about its history, except that it used to have a “No Evacuation Possible” sign warmly greeting drivers to Plum Island.
The Plum Island Lighthouse– What represents a beach community better than a lighthouse? This is probably something both Islanders and Inlanders can agree on. Admittedly, since most coastal communities have lighthouses, it’s not exactly an original pick.
The Wooden Fisherman– Everyone knows the Wooden Fisherman. His coat has changed color over the years, and he’s shifted locations — from the Firehouse to the Maritime Museum, boardwalk, and probably a few other spots as well – but he’s remained a firm fixture of our community for several decades. He was even kidnapped once, and somehow managed to escape, showing his impressive resiliency (a must for any landmark in serious contention).
The Atkinson Common Tower– Right now it seems to function as a dumpster for Bud Light cans. But seriously, what is that thing? I’m sure its origins are prosaic, but I like to imagine it dates back to the 15th century and belonged to a knight or something. Probably not. Actually, definitely not. But it’s fun to speculate.
The Fake Penguins– Floating on pieces of ice in the Merrimack near Joppa Park, these fake penguins are supposed to send a warning about climate change. I, however, learned embarrassingly recently that they are not, in fact, real penguins. Now several out-of-towner friends definitely think Newburyport sees a yearly penguin migration. I can’t be the only one, right? Anyway – the penguins could be a mascot and local icon all in one.
Interlude: to win the job of community icon, you don’t need to be an inanimate object. Some places are represented by human figures, whose faces become synonymous with the city itself. England has the Royal Family. Chicago has Al Capone. New Jersey has Bruce Springsteen. Detroit has Eminem. New Zealand has Frodo Baggins. So, what does Newburyport have?
Dancing Andy- A staple of the Newburyport nightlife scene. If you’ve frequented the Thirsty Whale or the Grog for any stretch during the last 10 years, chances are you know Dancing Andy. I’m not sure if he’s actually an Elvis impersonator, but with his glittering barbershop quartet vests, skin-tight white pants, black sunglasses, and gold necklace, he might as well be. You can usually find him rolling a pair of dice on the ground, meaningfully pointing at them, and repeating the process over and over again. I don’t understand the dice. I don’t think anyone does. If we did, I suspect the magic would fade. For his ability to inject life into even the deadest night out, Dancing Andy deserves to be in the “local symbol” conversation.
That Guy Who Bangs Buckets on State St.– Hear me out. Music is a powerful thing. When we think of Scotland, we hear bagpipes playing in our heads. The last time you strolled down State St., chances are you heard Buckets Guy banging away on those buckets, or playing Country Roads over and over again on guitar. Love or hate his music, he’s the soundtrack of your summer shopping spree, and your winter stroll to the coffee shop. And hey, maybe being chosen as the next local landmark will encourage him to spring for some real drums.
To nominate a local landmark, drop it in the comments below this article. I’ll compile the nominations, and post the top 3 next week for people to vote on. If we do this efficiently, artists might even have enough time to paint, photograph, and create little trinkets of our new official landmark before Yankee Homecoming. Let the nominating begin!
Eben Diskin
Editor, The Townie
Have an idea for a new iconic local landmark? Comment below, or email info@townienbpt.com.