Small Town is getting a Starbucks, technically Small Town Next Door, but the two towns are so close and so similar, they seem to form one big small town. I knew it would happen eventually.
I am not generally opposed to Starbucks, and I don't mind their coffee or their presence in the world. But I do mind the loss of local character in the interest of a homogeneous market place. My Favorite Place for Joe has character that has evolved over time, character that is specific to us and can not be duplicated across the country. Get your own character.
In my coffee shop, there are regulars who would never feel comfortable in a Starbucks. There are the old guys who monopolize a table for hours at a time, mumbling and sometimes shouting about current events, griping about their wives, rattling the newspaper as they read through the sections of local news--these guys would feel and look out of place in a Starbucks. Shortwave, a scruffy looking man who sits outside with an old radio, aiming the extended antennae toward whoever might be sending him a signal from up above, would not be allowed to linger all day at a Starbucks. Smoking Joe, the guy who bar hops in the evening with a cigarette stuck in his lips but who likes to spend daylight hours at the coffee shop would be shewed away by Starbucks.
Then there are the barber shop quartet guys who practice in the back room from time to time. There is Burris of the Universe* who ruminates over possible material for poetry. There are those of us who like to help out by getting our own coffee on busy days, and those of us who like to chat with Greg the owner about Small Town goings on, and those of us who help unstick the back door when the trash needs to go out. There is a sense of co-ownership, and at the Starbucks we'll be just another batch of customers.
I suspect My Favorite Place for Joe will not suffer with the introduction of competition. It will continue to offer a place for our local characters to feel at home. I suspect those who don't appreciate its local color will move on to the Starbucks, but then those people didn't belong to begin with. As I sit here with my fresh cup of rich Tanzanian that cost $1.25, I salute My Favorite Place for Joe. Long live small-town coffee shops and the oddballs I find there.
*I had promised poetry from Burris, but he's got a writer's block.
I am not generally opposed to Starbucks, and I don't mind their coffee or their presence in the world. But I do mind the loss of local character in the interest of a homogeneous market place. My Favorite Place for Joe has character that has evolved over time, character that is specific to us and can not be duplicated across the country. Get your own character.
In my coffee shop, there are regulars who would never feel comfortable in a Starbucks. There are the old guys who monopolize a table for hours at a time, mumbling and sometimes shouting about current events, griping about their wives, rattling the newspaper as they read through the sections of local news--these guys would feel and look out of place in a Starbucks. Shortwave, a scruffy looking man who sits outside with an old radio, aiming the extended antennae toward whoever might be sending him a signal from up above, would not be allowed to linger all day at a Starbucks. Smoking Joe, the guy who bar hops in the evening with a cigarette stuck in his lips but who likes to spend daylight hours at the coffee shop would be shewed away by Starbucks.
Then there are the barber shop quartet guys who practice in the back room from time to time. There is Burris of the Universe* who ruminates over possible material for poetry. There are those of us who like to help out by getting our own coffee on busy days, and those of us who like to chat with Greg the owner about Small Town goings on, and those of us who help unstick the back door when the trash needs to go out. There is a sense of co-ownership, and at the Starbucks we'll be just another batch of customers.
I suspect My Favorite Place for Joe will not suffer with the introduction of competition. It will continue to offer a place for our local characters to feel at home. I suspect those who don't appreciate its local color will move on to the Starbucks, but then those people didn't belong to begin with. As I sit here with my fresh cup of rich Tanzanian that cost $1.25, I salute My Favorite Place for Joe. Long live small-town coffee shops and the oddballs I find there.
*I had promised poetry from Burris, but he's got a writer's block.
Comments
Let the dull and unimaginitive go sup their franchise coffee accompanied by awful muzak (all the most inoffensive and tedious artists designed not to offend anybody but they drive me scatty … time spent listening to Starbucks' music selection is time stolen from my life as an artist and musician that I will never get back, curse them).
Long live the individual.
Long live the unconventional.
Plus, Starbies' coffee is too weak and sweet (like the music) and I resent having to pay extra for an extra shot, which I can get for free in my local coffee shop.
End of rant.
Here’s to the small town coffee shops!!!!!