Before I get to my main point, where I say that I am not wholly satisfied with this town, know this: I’m in deep, serious, borderline creepy, adult love with Durango. I’ve lived all over the country and feel like I have some credibility to say that this place is pretty rad and I don’t want to leave.
I grew up in the Denver suburbs. I’ve lived in a metro area of more than 5 million humans (Miami), mid-sized cities like Corpus Christi in South Texas and St. Joseph in western Missouri, all the way down to Falls Village, a speck of a speck of a town of 700 in the Litchfield Hills of Connecticut.
And through all of that – a 15-year journey – and after two-plus years here, Durango has become my place, my home, my favorite.
I love how we have a place like Horse Gulch right there, a place that our darling former mayor Sweetie Marbury and others have called our own Central Park, a place to play, to hike and bike and get out of town without ever leaving.
I love the college for what it draws to this town: People from different places and cultures, people with fresh ideas and different points of view. It draws musical acts, artists, performers and lecturers whose vibrance stays long after they leave.
I love how we don’t have one, two or four brewpubs, but six (well, five kind of … at the moment … what’s up with you, Durango Brewing Co.?) and that none of them suck, each having carved their own distinct niche.
I love how so many people have consciously and deliberately chosen this place and sacrifice to make it work here. And when you want to live in a place – some working multiple jobs to make it work, many here for the natural beauty and outdoor activities – you care about that place. This is why we routinely tax ourselves, say, to purchase land to be set aside for conservation or outdoor recreation or to fund projects like the river trail.
I could go on.
But Durango isn’t perfect. There are activities many of us would like to do when it comes to dining, entertainment, lifestyle and nightlife, but can’t. We need new and different kinds of restaurants, activities and hangouts. These are topics we’d like to explore here at DGO.
So what does Durango lack? What does it need to take it from amazing to amazinger? In the coming issues, we’ll be starting an occasional series dealing with such matters. Do we have any means of making any of these ideas happen? Absolutely not. But that’s not really the point. This is about having fun and dreaming a little bit. And maybe – just maybe – a conversation might start somewhere, a snowball tumbling down the mountain.
To get us started, one thing I’d like to see is a game center for adults. While there are a plethora of options for bars and movies, live music and karaoke happening somewhere every night, and plenty of pool tables to go around, activities for adults at night are limited. I imagine arcade games, duck pin bowling (which is essentially a cross between real bowling – hey, a real bowling alley would be cool, too – and skeeball – hey, skeeball would be wonderful, right?), dozens of board games, air hockey, arcade basketball, maybe a short-course miniature golf course. Food and drink? But of course. Loungy mood lighting and classy leather booths and chairs? Absolutely. I’ve seen such things in larger cities (Dave & Busters in Denver and Albuquerque, for two) but also in towns a third of the size of Durango.
So what else does Durango need? What in the world of dining, entertainment, lifestyle and nightlife does this happening town of Durango lack? Email me at [email protected]. Let’s get some conversations going.
