Small Town
Born & Raised
In mid-August, On Cue celebrated it’s second anniversary or is it birthday? Whichever it is, the test case for officially writing on the internet again, began two years ago1. The perspective and tone of this newsletter have shifted, and after leaving my corporate gig in the spring to pursue a new entrepreneurial endeavor2 the work here and beyond continues to find its footing in small town roots.
Small, independent businesses and the folks working in them, ride the extreme highs and lows between comfort and safety. Worrying about paying rent, at home and in business, while attempting to piece together some semblance of a healthy life - can feel like a constant game of Tetris; and while the video game may be a fun way to test your aging puzzle skills - constantly maneuvering for financial, emotional and physical wellness is exhausting. As I slowly arc the trajectory of my portfolio career back to the strong community mindset of a small town, I’ve realized it has much in common with the creative middle class - places that feel as though they are slowly being erased.
No matter your political affiliation, there’s a good chance you’ve come across the small town guy running for Vice President of the United States, who doesn’t seem to be having the same issues as his opponents on obtaining rights for song usage.
There is never a time when the unmistakable guitar riff and rhythm of the song ‘Small Town’ kicks in, where my heart doesn’t do a joyful flip - maybe that’s because I was raised in a small town, and born in an even smaller one. The lyrics resonate deep in my blood and bones, not only because Mr. Mellencamp used to be my neighbor, sort of 3 but because he wrote them from a truth4 I’ve understood well throughout my life and actually worked hard to escape in younger years.
The world of which Mellencamp sings is one that a lot of Gen X kids ran from, and did their best to shun once among the city folks that looked down on those towns, back in the 80s and 90s, and sometimes still do today. After twenty-nine years of big city living, and six months of new business development I continue to tap into the tag line of our new business ‘it takes a village’ - an ethos of connected community and small town values that embodies taking care of our neighbors, so we can do more than simply utter the words ‘lift as we climb’. It’s also not lost on me that while the DNC wreaked havoc on my neighborhood, there was a similar message of instilling hope in a lot of Americans that want to see the middle class grow and move beyond simply surviving.
We’re in a weird, transitional time for folks in art and craft industries - music, writers, farmers … and restaurants, which I speak on most given my long tenure in and around them. Much like small town communities, these industries have an opportunity to work together, better, for the greater good, rather than greed. In a time where the uber wealthy and celebrities steal our style in fashion and throwing parties - the creative middle class continues to get missed a lot, much like the generation whose nostalgia is currently driving the market, all while clamoring for crumbs from groups of people who do not truly understand struggle. It’s why we’re building Aldea - because while everyone, especially those that have far more money than we do in business like to remind - we’re all in the same storm, which is true. But we are not in the same boats, which determines the amount of water we can take on, while sometimes barely staying afloat.
As Virgo and getting stuff done season is in full force, we cannot wait to show you what we’ve been working on at Aldea in the coming weeks and how we want to help make the creative middle class stronger. In the interim, as this newsletter is a part of that business - it’s time for the name to evolve, much like the perspective did in the spring and nestle into the village. So, with the warmest of small town welcomes, I present … The Luncheonette.
In the coming days this space will get a revamped about page to mirror The Luncheonette logo. The name embodies the culture and work that was instilled in me from some of my first days sitting at a local counter on a swiveling red leather and metal bar stool - being taken care of by hard working folks, who knew my name and usual breakfast order. My branding and marketing experience also tells me that as I inch closer to a small, yet mighty milestone of subscribers for an emerging writer - now is the time to align the newsletter with the work of Aldea, meaning village, and the change I want to see in the industries so near and dear to my heart.
Remember blogging on Blogger? Before we called things content, produced by influencers I wrote about wine, pairings and hospitality on two blogs: Grapes of Life and Mendez Musings (which later became my social media handle - because branding, even “back then”).
Update: we’re close to launching the site; our goal was before the end of Q3 and we’re on track, even if I continually have to figure out the teeter totter between patience and perfectionism - which I know is fear and shame, battling it out with belief and hope for what we’re doing. All of which is fine, because at least in this third iteration of starting a business, I can identify all of that, sit in discomfort and still create - as well as make space for rest.
Reminder: write, cook, sing, paint, play, and tell your truth; yes it’s scary, maybe even unpopular - it’s also a key to unlocking creative freedom.
Oh my, yes, Blogger. Those were the days. And happy birthday, fellow Virgo! Cheers to the Luncheonette!