Ah, the Fast Food Formula.

The illusion of Economy and Efficiency at the expense of Gastronomy and Nutritional Deficiency.

The Minimum expenditure of Time. The Minimum investment of Collateral. The statistically derived Minimum Quality acceptable, offset, undoubtedly by sheer Ubiquity and the infallible Reproducibility of our National Icons of Culinary Pulp.

Is this what our Cultural Quintessence has been boiled down to, America?

Can’t we stave off this craving for crappy snacking slapped snappily in happy wrapping?

Serve me, the McBillions cry. Gimme, gimme, gimme!…indigestion.
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Call you “Old Fashioned.”  You can take it. 

“Folksie?” “Provincial?”  Maybe.
 
You know who you are, and don’t need some Metropolitan Marketing Guru to slap some label on you.  But, one thing’s for sure.  They can’t call you Cookie Cutter.  And no one dare to call you CORPORATE. 

What happened to Tom’s Farms?  They upgraded to Tasteless Glossy from Rustic Charm.  

I’m feeling lost.  My neighborhood Shade-Tree mechanic got so busy that he burned out and sold out to some guy who picked up his list of clients, and then (likely) promptly lost all but the few fleets of vehicles already under contract.  I guess if you’re responsible for a fleet of cars and trucks, you’re not looking for the personal touch.  You’re looking at “the bottom line” because you’re dealing in bulk.  But, few of the local homesteaders were eager to suffer the transition.  The reason is obvious, of course.  Trust.  Can’t sell that. Read more…