It seems every week, something important from this once-fair, little seaport city is taken away from us in the name of density, development or “disruption.”

Cool, old bars and restaurants and shops, yes. But also a men’s pro basketball team, a daily newspaper, a radio host, a live theater space.

And the new things that replace the old things tend to be costlier, louder, hoity-toity-er. Dive bars get turned into upscale bistros; cheap apartments become luxury condos.

For someone who came of age loving the old Seattle, for all its faults and limitations, today’s city seems more and more like an alien land.

What Seattle was

The “soul of Seattle” is a difficult thing to define, and different people have defined it differently. But this is how I define it: Seattle’s soul is not loud or pushy. It doesn’t scream at you to order you to love it. It’s quiet and confident; yes, to the point of dangerously smug self-satisfaction.

Yet, it’s also funny in a self-deprecating way. Seattle’s sense of quirky humor can be seen in Ivar Haglund, J.P. Patches, John Keister, the Young Fresh Fellows’ songs, the comic art of Jim Woodring and “The Oatmeal.”

It believes in beauty, in many forms: the delicate curves and perfect proportions of the Space Needle, the slippery warmth of a bag of Dick’s fries, the modest elegance of a Craftsman bungalow.

It believes in old-fashioned showmanship: the fringe theaters of the ‘70s and ‘80s, the burlesque troupes of the ‘90s, the alternative circus acts of the 2000s.

It believes in old-fashioned fun: boat races, cream cheese on hot dogs, tiki parties, comics conventions.

Yet, it also believes in schmoozing and in deal-making. Boeing got on such good terms with the airlines of the world that Lockheed never sustained. Microsoft made deals to put MS-DOS and Office on almost every desktop computer.

And it believes in civic progress, however it’s defined. It created monuments to its own “arrival” (the Smith Tower, the Olympic Hotel, the Century 21 Exposition). It built public spaces more beautiful than they had to be (the University of Washington campus, the Volunteer Park Conservatory). It leveled hills, filled in tide flats, raised streets, lowered Lake Washington and put up parks everywhere, from freeway airspace to an old Naval base.

It still exists

There are several places around town where this “soul of Seattle” still lives and even thrives. Here are just a few of them:

•Aurora Avenue just north of Green Lake — The Twin Teepees, that beloved “roadside vernacular” restaurant, may be gone, but this stretch of the old Pacific Highway still boasts a pair of culinary opposites.

On the east side: PCC Natural Markets, the local pioneer in “healthy” groceries (even if it’s less of a “consumers co-op” than it used to be).

On the west wide: Beth’s Cafe, home of the 12-egg omelet and unabashed (and un-prettified) all-night diner.

•West Marginal Way South, heading north —  A biking/walking path keeps pedal and foot traffic separate from the semis.

Container docks along the Duwamish River are now interspersed with mini parks — some restored to something approximating a “natural” state.

The Duwamish Longhouse and Cultural Center honors local Native design arts while hosting ethnic cultural programs.

Just uphill from the river is a sliver of a residential neighborhood once tributed by author Richard Hugo.

•Red Square (officially “Central Plaza”) on the UW campus — The gorgeously gothic Suzzalo Library and the equally classic Administration Building, represent an era when public architecture could be both monumental and populist. The other buildings, dating from the 1960s and 1970s, are more simply designed and more cheaply built but still (especially Meany Theater) manage to express an understated humanism in their “big-box” forms.

The square itself is the lid of a parking garage, with air vents hidden inside sculptural pieces.

•The Museum of Flight and the Living Computer Museum — One South End landmark honors the industry that made our city’s past; the other honors the hardware that ran the software that’s making our city’s future.

CLARK HUMPHREY is the author of “Walking Seattle” and “Vanishing Seattle.” He also writes a blog at miscmedia.com. To comment on this column, write to QAMagNews@nwlink.com.