And to think that I saw it on Acorn Street

I live in a neighborhood that has many charming streets on it. Chestnut. West Cedar. Brimmer.

My block on Beacon Street is not especially charming. Historic, yes: a lot of stately granite buildings – all originally single family homes; some of them still are – built in the 1860’s. And we’re directly across from the Boston Public Garden, which oozes charm. But, no, my block isn’t particularly quaint or adorbs.

It’s still a tourist attraction, however, thanks to Cheers, which anchors the far end and, after all these years, still manages to lure a ton of tourists, all of who want to take a picture of themselves at the precise moment I’m walking by.

But people want that pic to include the Cheers banner, or awning, or whatever it is that’s reminiscent of the show. They’re not looking for charm; they’re looking for show biz.

If they’re really looking for charm, they’re up the Hill and over a block, to Acorn Street.

If that doesn’t exude charm, I don’t know what does. (If you can’t see the photo, just google “Acorn Street Boston”.)

I walk by Acorn Street every once in a while, but I seldom walk on it.

The sidewalks are too narrow, and if there’s a surface that’s more difficult to walk on than cobblestones, I don’t know what it would be. Especially walking downhill. (Acorn Street is pretty steep.) And especially when it’s rainy. Or snowy. Or icy. Or leafy.

So, since I don’t want to break a hip, or end up with a bashed in skull, I tend to avoid Acorn Street.

But for those in love with seeing themselves on Instagram, those looking for the perfect engagement picture, those looking for the perfect background for an ad pushing luxury goods, Acorn is just dreamy.

On Acorn Street, the struggle for the perfect Instagram shot is real. On any given day, no matter the season, dozens or even hundreds of people from all over the world flock to this Beacon Hill alley, a private drive wedged between a row of 19th-century homes and fenced-in gardens. Tourists and locals alike pose before backdrops plucked straight from Longfellow: charming front doors, vine-covered brick walls, gas street lamps, and quaint cobblestones.

But in the Instagram era, the allure of Acorn Street’s postcard perfection has become so powerful that actually living here, on the other side of the shutter, can be a lot less idyllic, owners and residents of the dozen or so multimillion-dollar homes say. (Source: Boston Globe)

Talk about first-world problems.

Still, you can’t entirely blame the Acorn Street residents for being a bit ticked off. Folks leave trash behind. They make a lot of noise. They plunk their butts down on stoops. They peeping Tom the windows of anyone unwise enough not to keep the internal shutters shut. One couple took the street over for their wedding. One resident looked out their window and saw a selfie-stick pointing their way.

“Just think if you lived here,” said one fed-up resident, who refused to give his name.

Anyway, Acorn Street has become a big deal, tourist-wise. It’s used in ads. A visit is recommended on travel sites. And it’s a social media darling.

Some locals believe it might be the most photographed street in the country. (The counterargument would be Lombard Street, the steep, serpentine tourist grab in San Francisco. More folks may visit Lombard Street. Who knows? But, while Lombard Street is interesting, I’d give Acorn the edge when it comes to charm.)

Where Acorn Street people went wrong was in the 1980’s. There was a proposal out there to pave over this particular bit of paradise, but the residents decided to keep those cobblestones. (Broken ankle be damned!)

It’s probably those cobblestones that turn Acorn Street into such an attraction.

The Acorn Street Association is trying to figure out what to do with the tourists. They’re fine with those who just stick their heads down or up and take a quick picture at either end of the street. It’s the long photo shoots. The intrusion. It’s the “barefoot dancers hanging from the lamp posts.”

One of the options is charging people an entrance fee. (Acorn Street is a private way, and the residents own what’s in front of their houses.) Another is just outright forbidding any access to outsiders.

So far, the Association has tried a kinder, gentler approach: posting “no trespassing” signs; polite requests that professional photographers and videographers apply (and pay for) permits.

Residents are responding in a variety of ways. Swearing at tourists, threatening to calling the police, or – on the other end of the spectrum – welcoming visitors and filling them in on the history of the street.

Maybe I’ll swing by on my next walk. As long as it’s not a slippery day, I might actually walk up or down the street. (Note to self: wear your sturdiest sneakers.) What I wont do is take a selfie and post it on Instagram. With luck, no one with swear at me or call the cops.