Mister Clean and the Big S
I wish I was a clean as Bruce Springsteen. But I’m not. What can I say…. I come from the old days. I don’t squeak when I walk and I tend to knock things over when I first come into a room. Ask anybody who knows me, I leave a trail of stains behind. But Bruce is immaculate. That’s what they said on the AOL start page today – “what’s so different about Bruce Springsteen?” I didn’t know there was anything different but I thought I’d go check it out to see, and sure enough there he was, Mister Clean. “No drug busts and no bad hair days ever.” Well, I have to admit that I never did much with drugs, they always kinda scared me – I did acid, smoked a bunch a pot, did some speed – that’s about it. But I’ve had a lot of bad hair days. In fact, I have not been to a barber since 1965. I cut my hair myself, using a pair of regular scissors and a car mirror. I don’t even wet it down first. “So how do you get the back?” you might ask. Easy – just walk around for the next few days with a pair of scissors in your pocket and when somebody says, “jeeze, what happened to back of your head” whip out the scissors and say, “I don’t know, can you fix it for me?” I’ve been doing it that way for years. But then I don’t have a reputation to uphold or a house in Bel Air. And I don’t charge a hundred dollars a seat for people to come see me.
What did you say? That’s right, a hundred dollars a seat for Big Bruce. And that was when he was doing his Pete Seeger tribute tour. I’ll bet Pete was thrilled about that part, being an old communist and all. I mean, if you take the ideology to heart and really sing those songs, knowing what they stand for, and if you charge a hundred dollars a seat, then that must mean that the working class has made such great strides that the average Joe and Josephine can easily afford it! Plus parking, plus a baby sitter, plus dinner, plus everything else. Probably works out to about two hundred and that’s just for one person. So if you add a friend or a spouse then its three, or four. Damn! We won that revolution and didn’t even know it. Thanks, Bruce. If it wasn’t for you I’d still be waging the class war.
And speaking of class war did you see where Howard Schultz, CEO of Starbucks, has sent around an in-house memo bemoaning the loss of the “Starbucks Experience?” I’m not sure what that experience is – you’d have to ask people who go there regularly. I’m sure they all have their own versions. To some it would be aromatic low fat double soy decaf lattes, extra hot. To others it would be huge plastic bags full of disposable cups being hoisted into green rubbish bins by uniformed baristas. To me it is often the endless crowds of lemming-like touristas pilgrimaging to the “Original Starbucks” down at the Pike Place Market. They spend thousands of dollars a day getting their super gulp sized drinks and having their pictures taken, with glue sniffing grins on their faces, in front of that wonderful corporate sign.
Now, I put “Original Starbucks” in quotes because its just not true. And they know it. Starbucks knows it. They’re playing a little trick on you, probably their way of showing their love and gratitude for all the years of excessive cash flow that comes with being a truly addictive experience. Just ask William Burroughs. Oh that’s right, he’s dead. Anyway, when the Big S started out in 1971 they were just a little roaster and baggie seller operating out of a storefront just outside the Market. Not in it. I know this because I got a little suspicious and did some digging. I went into the basement of the Suzzallo Library where they keep the old copies of the City Directories – the business records for Seattle. I checked for the address of the current “Original S” and found that it was listed as vacant in 1977. How is that possible? How could they have started in the same location that they were not in? Does this make sense? Is this Houdini marketing? Maybe I was missing something. Well, in fact I was. A friend who works in an historical society explained it to me. They are taking advantage of a loophole that says if you close Business A but take the original business license with you to open Business B then you can claim that Business B is in fact the original business. Its really just the license that you’re referring to. Pretty slick, huh?
So Mister Moneybuckets made a plastic plaque to hang in the window that said “Original Starbucks” and he made a brass obelisk to put on the floor inside that said the same thing and they put it into all the tourist guide books and on the official Seattle web site and in all the airplane magazines and all over the world. And humans, being the Pavlovian herd animals that they are, came by the tour bus load and lined up for hours to have some of that original greatness rub off on them. They take cell phone pictures and movies. They rub up against the building itself and their faces blush at the proximity of orgasmic monetary success which is, of course, the essence of the real Starbucks Experience. Money. And lots of it.
But somehow the “experience” has become watered down for Howard. You see, he’s not from these parts. He’s a New Yorker, which is neither here nor nearby but rather three thousand miles and, in his case, a million wallets away. Howard came into the scene late – sometime in the eighties – and he offered his services as a magician to the little coffee company. I will make you famous, he said, and drew out a money colored wand, flicking his wrist with a crackle of lightning and a distant sound of cash register thunder. And presto! There they were, Starbucks the Great, the world famous and world renowned, global purveyor of all thing caffeinated. And more – T-shirts, caps, umbrellas, cups and saucers, coffee makers, books, and of course, music. Music. Of course! The percolation of syncopation, the constant inescapable tunings of wake-up-and-hit-the-groove-day-with-a-latte melodies. Their own label featuring the big names – Ray Charles, Bob Dylan. I mean, why settle for one fortune when you can have two? I wish I’d thought of that.
But I though of something else. How about this… Hey Howard. Maybe what’s missing in the “experience” is a little honesty. I know you got a loophole going and its all legally copasetic and all that, but you know and we know and everybody else knows that that ain’t the original café so why not come clean? Why not do a little twelve step apologetics and admit to the whole world that you’ve been having us on? Maybe give a little of that extra money back. Maybe put a few mil into low income housing or something.
Or how about this… You confess to everybody that you’ve been lying, right? And then to make amends, first you put up public bulletin boards in all the Starbucks stores. I mean, what’s a coffeehouse without a bulletin board? Then you let the employees choose their own music. Maybe they want to play something from some other labels. Then you let them do gigs in the stores – you know, open mics, punk folk, that sort of thing. Then you open the rest rooms up for everybody. No more keys! And finally, finally…
You get Bruce Springsteen to do a free solo acoustic noon time gig right outside the store in the Pike Place Market with his guitar case open and a drunk leaning up against the window ready to pass out. We’ll make sure he’s got a permit so everything will be legal. And that’ll put you on the map again. What do you say?
What did you say? That’s right, a hundred dollars a seat for Big Bruce. And that was when he was doing his Pete Seeger tribute tour. I’ll bet Pete was thrilled about that part, being an old communist and all. I mean, if you take the ideology to heart and really sing those songs, knowing what they stand for, and if you charge a hundred dollars a seat, then that must mean that the working class has made such great strides that the average Joe and Josephine can easily afford it! Plus parking, plus a baby sitter, plus dinner, plus everything else. Probably works out to about two hundred and that’s just for one person. So if you add a friend or a spouse then its three, or four. Damn! We won that revolution and didn’t even know it. Thanks, Bruce. If it wasn’t for you I’d still be waging the class war.
And speaking of class war did you see where Howard Schultz, CEO of Starbucks, has sent around an in-house memo bemoaning the loss of the “Starbucks Experience?” I’m not sure what that experience is – you’d have to ask people who go there regularly. I’m sure they all have their own versions. To some it would be aromatic low fat double soy decaf lattes, extra hot. To others it would be huge plastic bags full of disposable cups being hoisted into green rubbish bins by uniformed baristas. To me it is often the endless crowds of lemming-like touristas pilgrimaging to the “Original Starbucks” down at the Pike Place Market. They spend thousands of dollars a day getting their super gulp sized drinks and having their pictures taken, with glue sniffing grins on their faces, in front of that wonderful corporate sign.
Now, I put “Original Starbucks” in quotes because its just not true. And they know it. Starbucks knows it. They’re playing a little trick on you, probably their way of showing their love and gratitude for all the years of excessive cash flow that comes with being a truly addictive experience. Just ask William Burroughs. Oh that’s right, he’s dead. Anyway, when the Big S started out in 1971 they were just a little roaster and baggie seller operating out of a storefront just outside the Market. Not in it. I know this because I got a little suspicious and did some digging. I went into the basement of the Suzzallo Library where they keep the old copies of the City Directories – the business records for Seattle. I checked for the address of the current “Original S” and found that it was listed as vacant in 1977. How is that possible? How could they have started in the same location that they were not in? Does this make sense? Is this Houdini marketing? Maybe I was missing something. Well, in fact I was. A friend who works in an historical society explained it to me. They are taking advantage of a loophole that says if you close Business A but take the original business license with you to open Business B then you can claim that Business B is in fact the original business. Its really just the license that you’re referring to. Pretty slick, huh?
So Mister Moneybuckets made a plastic plaque to hang in the window that said “Original Starbucks” and he made a brass obelisk to put on the floor inside that said the same thing and they put it into all the tourist guide books and on the official Seattle web site and in all the airplane magazines and all over the world. And humans, being the Pavlovian herd animals that they are, came by the tour bus load and lined up for hours to have some of that original greatness rub off on them. They take cell phone pictures and movies. They rub up against the building itself and their faces blush at the proximity of orgasmic monetary success which is, of course, the essence of the real Starbucks Experience. Money. And lots of it.
But somehow the “experience” has become watered down for Howard. You see, he’s not from these parts. He’s a New Yorker, which is neither here nor nearby but rather three thousand miles and, in his case, a million wallets away. Howard came into the scene late – sometime in the eighties – and he offered his services as a magician to the little coffee company. I will make you famous, he said, and drew out a money colored wand, flicking his wrist with a crackle of lightning and a distant sound of cash register thunder. And presto! There they were, Starbucks the Great, the world famous and world renowned, global purveyor of all thing caffeinated. And more – T-shirts, caps, umbrellas, cups and saucers, coffee makers, books, and of course, music. Music. Of course! The percolation of syncopation, the constant inescapable tunings of wake-up-and-hit-the-groove-day-with-a-latte melodies. Their own label featuring the big names – Ray Charles, Bob Dylan. I mean, why settle for one fortune when you can have two? I wish I’d thought of that.
But I though of something else. How about this… Hey Howard. Maybe what’s missing in the “experience” is a little honesty. I know you got a loophole going and its all legally copasetic and all that, but you know and we know and everybody else knows that that ain’t the original café so why not come clean? Why not do a little twelve step apologetics and admit to the whole world that you’ve been having us on? Maybe give a little of that extra money back. Maybe put a few mil into low income housing or something.
Or how about this… You confess to everybody that you’ve been lying, right? And then to make amends, first you put up public bulletin boards in all the Starbucks stores. I mean, what’s a coffeehouse without a bulletin board? Then you let the employees choose their own music. Maybe they want to play something from some other labels. Then you let them do gigs in the stores – you know, open mics, punk folk, that sort of thing. Then you open the rest rooms up for everybody. No more keys! And finally, finally…
You get Bruce Springsteen to do a free solo acoustic noon time gig right outside the store in the Pike Place Market with his guitar case open and a drunk leaning up against the window ready to pass out. We’ll make sure he’s got a permit so everything will be legal. And that’ll put you on the map again. What do you say?
posted by Jim Page at 12:58 AM
1 Comments:
Nice. You kinda got on a roll there. Heard on the radio recently that there are now 940 some billionaires in the world and that Howard's just joined the club. Bruce has some catching up to do. If he's ever going the get there, he needs to find a way to make his working-class pop stylings more addictive. Catchier hooks maybe.
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