When an American city adorns its downtown with banners proclaiming that you're in the middle of the action, it's a good bet that the opposite is the case.

So as I strolled the first block of South Second Street, where empty storefronts look out on faded banners urging visitors to the "Downtown San Jose Historic District" to "shop-dine-enjoy," I wasn't swayed by the wishful thinking flapping in the wind.

But here's the news flash: The downtown that also bills itself as "Silicon Valley's City Center" may finally be coming around as something that feels urban, in a good way. Not the center of anything, necessarily, but a distinctive walkable counterpoint to everything else south of Oakland and San Francisco.

I write this knowing that the renaissance of San Jose's core has been touted with regularity dating back to the 1980s. Trumpets blared with the opening of each new publicly subsidized endeavor, from the Fairmont Hotel in 1987 and the light rail lines in 1988 to the 2005 debut of San Jose City Hall, designed by the firm of Pritzker Prize-winning architect Richard Meier. (Doesn't ring a bell? It's the block with a metal-and-glass dome that looks like a planetarium sitting in the middle of an enormous concrete plaza.)

"A city is something that happens, not just something you build," says Ben Grant of SPUR, a San Francisco planning advocacy nonprofit that has a 2-year-old beachhead in a storefront on South First Street.

"The one thing I can say with confidence right now is that compelling pockets of organic urban life are starting to appear."

One obvious example is San Pedro Square Market at North San Pedro and West St. John streets. Alongside a cluster of small buildings that since the 1970s have served as an unofficial restaurant zone, two other structures have been gutted and joined by a shed-like annex of corrugated metal, with broad doors that roll upward to let the space spill into a shaded outdoor space.

The tall shed is filled with communal seating, a bar at the back and B2 coffee on the east. A small door leads into one of the older next-door buildings, filled with small kiosks that in turn are filled with local purveyors of food and drink.

Think the Ferry Building or Napa's Oxbow Market, but less precious, less pricey, more open - attributes all.

Three blocks to the east is Sperry Station, an easy-to-miss bastion of bootstrap retailing that includes a barber shop, an art supply store aimed at muralists, and a guitar store where ukuleles are on display as well. In the back is a performance space, emphasizing loud music but open to all ages since no alcohol is served.

"It was definitely a big leap of faith, but after about a month and a half it started to catch on," said David Nevin, owner of San Jose Rock Shop the guitar store. He's also the master tenant in the space, which once housed a flour maker.

Sperry's DIY vibe isn't for everyone, including younger Boomers who'll feel old when they see the Pretenders' debut LP in Rock Shop's crates of used vinyl. But it has the free-wheeling mix-and-match of downtowns where a variety of people pursue a variety of dreams, within ramshackle buildings with semi-affordable rents.

More conventional attractions line Paseo de San Antoni0 between South Third and South Fourth streets, where the commercial downtown rubs against San Jose State University.

It's the finale of a four-block pedestrian pathway conceived in the 1980s, some of which leaves much to be desired. On this block, though, every retail space is filled. There's even an independent bicycle shop and an outpost of Philz Coffee, which began in San Francisco's Mission District in 2003.

Philz isn't the only downscale hot spot that urbanists from up north will recognize.

In December, San Francisco's Ike's Place began serving its overstuffed sandwiches on East Santa Clara Street near City Hall. February saw the opening on South First Street of the ice-cream sandwich indulgence Cream, born on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley. Across the street is SPUR's storefront, where upward of 50 people can gather for presentations on such topics as "The Art of Creative Placemaking."

None of these familiar faces are "of" San Jose. But they all have homegrown Bay Area roots. They're also the type of places that in decades past probably would have dismissed San Jose as out of sight, out of mind.

To be sure, the current signs of life might not have occurred without the Big Moves, the cumulative $3 billion in public investment that ended when Gov. Jerry Brown abolished redevelopment programs statewide in 2012.

The subsidized hotel towers and office buildings, the light-rail lines, the convention center - all these things help put people on the streets during the day. At night, there's SAP Center, home to hockey's San Jose Sharks and an abundance of other events that, in turn, provide customers for San Pedro Square.

These elements were essential, but they were only a start. What you see now in spots like Sperry Station or the best block of Paseo de San Antonio is something more intriguing - hints of life and soul.

They don't feel like stabs at metropolitan grandeur; they're attuned to a comfortably scaled center city where the climate is good, where the trees are mature and the older Mission Revival buildings add an aura of gracious charm.

This is not San Francisco, not even close. And that's just fine.