Many locally owned stores simply shut their doors at the first sign of Wal-Mart, rather than prolong the misery of trying to compete against this invincible giant. You can see the results in boarded-up Main Streets and neighborhood shopping districts across the continent. This seems the inevitable march of economic history, with independent businesses being trampled everywhere.

But that's not what I see looking around my neighborhood in south Minneapolis. We've seen an inspiring small business revival over the past 10 years as new shops and eateries pop up in underused storefronts.

At Nicollet and 43rd, a few blocks from my house, I've got Roadrunner Records, where you'll find few CDs by the likes of Britney Spears, Alan Jackson or Eminem. But almost every other musical genre imaginable -- from Renaissance dances to Cajun classics to obscure gems of grunge rock -- is in abundance. Across the street is Anodyne, a bustling coffee shop that I have never once entered without spotting a friend, neighbor or old acquaintance. Down the street is Odds N Ends, an antique store with an impeccable collection of topnotch bric-a-brac, curious paintings and a broad selection of great old rugs -- at prices you can actually afford.

Strolling a different direction from my house brings you to Grand and 38th, home of Bakery on Grand, whose baguettes and semolina loaves are so good I'm convinced low-carb diets are a crime against humanity. Then there's Victor's 1959 Café, a cool Cuban diner where a sign directs you to booths on either the left wing (Che posters) or the right wing (Free Elian posters). Catty-corner from there is the Fairy Godmother store, a marvelous selection of books, gifts and other fun and inspiring items that remind us the world is still full of magic and mystery.

And speaking of mystery, down the block stands an inscrutable junk shop with no formally agreed-upon name, a live-in owner who is open only when the mood strikes him, and precariously steep piles of pop culture treasures all around, from '50s magazines to old lunchboxes. He also sells solar power supplies over the Web. Go figure.

Right around the corner from me at 42nd and Grand is Caffe Tempo, a congenial coffee shop where last week my wife Julie and I ordered $11.06 worth of breakfast, tea and greeting cards before realizing neither of us had brought a wallet.

"Don't worry, " said the smiling clerk, "just bring it the next time."

Imagine that happening at a Wal-Mart supercenter, Starbucks or any other chain more beholden to distant stockholders than its neighbors and customers.

Places like Caffe Tempo and Roadrunner Records are the social and commercial backbone of our communities. They also expose the lie that independent stores are a thing of the past destined to go the way of the horse-and-buggy. Neighborhoods across town are now flourishing with vital and valuable locally owned businesses. The entrepreneurial urge in Americans is strong and can only be extinguished if folks like you and me turn our backs on small, distinctive stores in favor of big, boring boxes.

So if you don't want to see our towns totally overrun by Wal-Marts, Burger Kings and Old Navys, then stand up for your local merchants by visiting their stores and buying something. And right now, with holiday shopping in full swing, there's no better time to do it. The future of your community depends on it.

Jay Walljasper is executive editor of Ode magazine and strategic communications director for Project for Public Spaces.

© 2004 Star Tribune