Even with all that PPS and its partners have accomplished over three decades in showing how the power of place can transform our communities, the idea of Placemaking still faces formidable obstacles. The old thinking that bigger is better remains strong across the country.

Many locally-owned stores simply shut their doors at the first sign of Wal-Mart.

The Placemaking movement that PPS and friends are now launching has its hands full questioning mega-development proposals, challenging road expansion plans, and debunking "design-for-design's sake" architecture. But the most dramatic sign of what we are up against is the proliferation of big box retail, which knocks the life out of downtowns everywhere and sucks the economic and cultural vitality out of many communities. The most potent symbol of what's threatening American places and communities today is, without a doubt, Wal-Mart.

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 giant. You can see the results in boarded-up Main Streets and neighborhood shopping districts across the continent. In Iowa alone, according to noted environmental writer Bill McKibben, Wal-Mart wiped out 555 groceries, 298 hardware stores, 293 building supply stores, 161 variety stores, 158 women's clothing stores, 153 shoe stores, 116 drug stores, and 111 men's and boys' clothing stores in a ten-year period. Life in these places has changed drastically, now that local shoppers' money flows out of town rather than circulating around the community again and again through locally-owned businesses.

Many believe this is the inevitable march of history, with independent businesses being trampled into extinction everywhere. But that's not what happened in Powell, Wyoming. Despite a Wal-Mart in a nearby town, a clothing store called Powell Mercantile has thrived. That's because it is owned by the community itself. Five hundred citizens put up money to launch the store because they didn't want to see their Main Street boarded up. Indeed the store's success has started a chain reaction, with other shops opening up in once empty downtown locations. Powell has come back to life. And now the town of Worland, ninety miles south, is doing the same thing.

Neighborhoods all over North America are now flourishing with vital and valuable locally-owned businesses.

Rather than a relic of the Norman Rockwell past, I think Powell Mercantile is a beacon of positive trends to come. Americans are growing weary of the coast-to-coast sameness of big chains and want to patronize places that express the personality of their communities. You hear a lot about Starbucks and Hard Rock Cafés these days, but as I travel the country I find all kinds of independent coffee shops and bars, with gloriously mismatched furniture, homemade food and local beers. They often sit next door to one-of-kind businesses like vintage clothing stores, used bookshops, art galleries, health food groceries, music clubs, antique dealers, gift shops, ethnic eateries, and burger joints. Indeed, some of them are banding together in organizations like the new American Independent Business Alliance to make a powerful case why locally-owned businesses are essential to the future of America's economy and culture.

I see this happening in my own neighborhood, the Kingfield district of south Minneapolis, where 1910s-era bungalows and Craftsmen-style homes have attracted many young families. We've enjoyed a revival of small businesses over the past 10 years as new shops and restaurants pop up in old storefronts, most of them run by people living in the neighborhood.

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 is in abundance - from Renaissance dances to Cajun classics to obscure gems of grunge rock. 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 Bakery on Grand, with baguettes and semolina loaves 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 encourages you to sit in 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 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 everywhere - running the gamut from '50s magazines to old lunch boxes. He also sells solar power supplies over the web. Go figure.

Stand up and make a stand for your local merchants by visiting their stores and buying something.

Places like these 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 all over North America 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 I turn our backs on small, distinctive stores in favor of big, boring boxes.

I've found that patronizing independent businesses enriches my life in ways large and small. Right around the corner from my home is Caffe Tempo, a congenial coffee shop where last week my wife Julie and I ordered eleven dollars and six cents worth of breakfast, tea, and greeting cards before realizing neither of us had brought a wallet. "Don't worry," said the clerk, "just bring it the next time." Imagine that happening at a Starbucks, Denny's, or any other chain more beholden to distant stockholders than its neighbors and customers.

So if you don't want to see your town totally overrun by Wal-Marts, Burger King, and the like, then stand up and make a stand for your local merchants by visiting their stores and buying something. This is one of the basic principles of Placemaking. And right now, when sales are slow in the post-Holiday season, there's no better time to do it. The future of your community and our country depends on it.