So on one Sunday in August, when all the masters of the universe are down on the Vineyard or the Cape or the Hamptons or anywhere but here, Boston shut Newbury Street for a few hours so people could just amble up and down the street.
Many pearls were clutched and no doubt quills angrily put to paper by some merchants, such as the executive director of the Newbury Street League as quoted by the Globe:
"No one is going to carry luggage from Longchamp to the train," she said. Businesses on Newbury pay high rents, she went on. "It’s unfortunately not a city park to play pingpong and use hula hoops and play cornhole."
As the Globe's Dante Ramos notes, though, the sort of people who traditionally shop along Newbury Street are, well, beginning to get to that age where their names appear only on the obituary page, and
there's no law that guarantees a profit for stores whose customer base is shrinking because their old clientele are no longer in a position to spend money and those stores are doing their best to annoy the new crop of moneyed interests.