Soho, an artsy area in Manhattan named for its location south of Houston Street, inspired its spin-offs. In Massachusetts for example, hip Northampton gets referred to as Noho. And now, on Vinalhaven, we’re getting Nobu. That would be for “north of Boongie’s.” I got tipped off to this designation at Thanksgiving. It’s only recently been coined as such, and cannot be used in a sentence yet without at least some hint of a smile as one says it. First of all, the street is so straightforward that to suggest it has districts begs some incredulity. Main Street is only one block long. It used to all simply be referred to as “downstreet.” But my untutored business sense of this is that a little excitement is a good thing, and this destination hype may be the beginning of a savvy ploy to create new interest in the far end of the street. What, one might ask, generates fresh energy in that part of the `hood? Well, certainly one precipitating factor is the pending relocation this winter of Elaine Crossman’s New Era art gallery to Nobu. George Harrison has a new-ish gallery there too, upstairs from his real estate office, showcasing antiques. There’s even a chance that a now-Nobu site long occupied by a string of restaurants will once again open its doors. Rumor has it the theme would be Mediterranean-style tapas.
There’s some irony that Boongie’s — a now-defunct island business that thrived in the 1990s — could become memorialized in Vinalhaven terminology as an upscale destination for consumers. “Boongie” is the name Vinalhaven-born and bred Larry Oakes has gone by since childhood. He is one of the island’s more public and enduring — as well as endearing — personages. His store, “Boongie’s Video,” was sensory overload exemplified, stuffed with merchandise in cacophonous array. The suggestion of an aisle led narrowly through space crammed with freezers, shelves, counters and coolers offering convenience store groceries, to a labyrinthine backroom of videos to rent. Boongie’s merchandising genius could be seen in the store’s slogan: “Why watch TV when you can watch BV.” A late enhancement to the business was selling hot dogs and pizza in an island-interpreted version of a “food court.” It was a Mecca for after-hours excursions in search of essentials like toilet paper, milk, munchies, smoking materials, condoms and lottery tickets. Most importantly, Boongie’s was beer. Rumor had it Boongie sold more Budweiser in any given year than anywhere else in the state of Maine. Everybody has a Boongie story. My friend, for example, needed graham crackers one evening to make s’mores as promised to a contingent of kids camping out. Desperate, she arrived at Boongie’s. That particular cupboard was bare, but Boongie didn’t let her down. Instead, his wife, Linda (a.k.a. Mrs. Boongie), drove over to the store from home, bearing the family supply.
In a community that appreciates quirkiness and an aesthetic of functionality, there is undeniable poetic justice in Boongie’s achieving landmark status. Now poised to live on in infamy as the inspiration for Nobu nomenclature, representing the newest arena for satisfying the exigencies of artistic and epicurean desires, it’s a fitting tribute to a site once satiating some of those very same primal urges. And who knows what’s to come? The brilliance of Working Waterfront’s readership could generate far more imaginative advertising, but just to get the ball rolling, how about: “Why watch TV when you can look at A-R-T.” Or, “Where once Bud was king, now Chianti’s the thing.” And what’s next for Vinalhaven neighborhood names? Maybe GoCo for the so-called “Gold Coast” along the Thorofare? SoPO for south of the Post Office? The possibilities are endless.
Tina Cohen lives in WeToGa (west of Todd’s Garage)