Thursday, September 22, 2011

I couldn't have said it better myself.

I found this marvelous piece from the good folks over at Chapter 16, a digital language and literature program of Humanities Tennessee, that I want to share with you today that says in all the right ways why we need to get over our collective additiction to Amazon.com. I've always been an avid supporter of all things small and indie and local, because THOSE are the things that make our communities worthwhile and unique and unlike any other strip of 7-lane horsepucky. And the weirdness that has plagued the book industry as of late has made me even more appreciative of local bookstores, those antiquated outposts of knowledge, lovingly curated by fascinating people who love to discover a new and wonderful story and share the same with you. Of course, Amazon isn't just focused on elbowing out bookstores; they're making inroads to make the entire in-store retail experience seem inconvenient and expensive. But this letter should give us pause about valuing convenience and cost over the health and well-being of people and our communities. Read on:

A Chapter 16 writer makes a public break with Amazon
by Liz Garrigan

Amazon, we really need to talk. My relationship with you feels like an illicit love affair because, I suppose, it sort of is. I want you, but I hate myself for it. I hide our relationship from many of my friends. There I am late at night, online, practically giggling with delight at what you can do for me. You understand my needs—and happily meet them—and you anticipate my desires, teasing me with what else you can offer that you already know I’ll like. You’ve tricked me into believing you’re a generous partner. It’s a modern courtship—yes, we rely on technology—but there’s an old-fashioned aspect to it, too. As a British friend of mine puts it, “For God’s sake, the goods arrive in the post. How quaint!”

Though I share your attentions with millions of others, our relationship feels deeply personal, even intimate. I get hand-written notes from your vendors saying they hope I enjoy the title I’ve ordered from you. Or maybe there’s an interesting bookmark left by a previous owner, or a charming, if illegible, signature in pencil on an inside jacket. In other words, I can’t visit you in person, but being satisfied this way doesn’t necessarily mean forfeiting all of the endearing features of a more traditional relationship.

In many ways, you have it all. You just sent me a used copy of Akenfield: Portrait of an English Village, a book I was having trouble finding elsewhere—and for just over four dollars, including postage. After spending twenty-plus years in Tennessee, I now live in Paris, where English-language books are harder to come by. And there you are, Amazon.fr, ready to meet me whenever I want, right here on my turf. So it’s hardly a mystery why I can’t quite, to use the parlance of a certain gay cowboy character, “quit you.”

But it’s time to confront the inconvenient truth: I’m cheating with a cheater. And this relationship is destructive, hurting people I care about. It’s taken me a while to figure this out, but behind your slick, faux-friendly ways, you’re a selfish, no-good, morally compromised bully.

Other bookstores—hell, other stores period, for you sell far more than books, competing for customers with local hardware stores and beauty-supply stores and video-game stores and clothing stores and pretty much every other retailer in the world—are obligated to collect sales tax from their customers. But you don’t, hiding behind a Supreme Court ruling that exempts online-only retailers from collecting sales tax in individual states.

In Tennessee, where combined state and local sales taxes are pushing ten percent, that amounts to a powerful incentive for customers to let their fingers do the clicking. It puts other booksellers and retailers at a competitive disadvantage. In Memphis, Burke’s Book Store and the Booksellers at Laurelwood don’t get that deal. In Nashville, Parnassus Books and Mysteries & More and Fairytales Books don’t get that deal. In Knoxville, Union Ave. Books doesn’t get that deal. They all dutifully collect sales tax and turn it over to the government to fund education, workforce development, services for the poor and disabled, and all the other functions that governments are required to provide for their citizens. Those are the rules of a civilized society. But you want—no, demand!—to be exempted.

You say the Supreme Court ruling means you have no obligation to collect taxes from your customers, and that’s true enough. But the Supreme Court ruling applies only to online retailers which don’t have a physical presence in the state. And here’s the thing, Amazon: thanks to those giant distribution centers you’re already building in Chattanooga and in Lebanon—and the one in Knoxville, though so far it’s only being whispered about in secret—that dog won’t fight any more. Like it or not, honey, you’re a Tennessean now.

Tennessee risks losing $3 billion in tax revenue to you, not to mention 10,000 jobs, over the next five years. And that’s not counting the money the state has spent out of its own tattered pockets to entice you here: Chattanooga alone gave you $30 million in incentives and free land—which the state spent $4 million to prepare for construction—in exchange for 1,200 full-time and 2,000 seasonal jobs.

Not that this abusive relationship is unique to Tennessee: you’ve sent South Carolina, Texas, and California into similar states of impotent rage because you have no trouble exploiting the realities of the nation’s dismal economy, reducing governors and mayors to desperate employment pimps. You’ve had them, after all, where you’ve wanted them. And you threaten to take your ball and go home should they fail to play by your rules.

You claim to favor a federal resolution to this mess, suggesting quite reasonably that it makes more sense to create a single national standard than to have a hodge-podge of state rules across the country. Not that you have much to worry about: given the national-budget challenges facing Congress, the need to level the playing field between you and all the rest of the retailers in the country isn’t much of a priority. As Tennessee Senator Bob Corker told The Chattanooga Times-Free Press, Internet sales-tax collections are “not even on the radar screen” this year.

But guess what? I can wait. I’ve got a stack of books here that will keep me busy for a while, even if they did come from you in the post. But when I’m done with those, I’ll do what I did back in the nineties: I’ll go to the library. Or where all the other American expats go in Paris: the Village Voice Bookshop.

We’re over. And don’t email me either.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

What makes Memphis...Memphis?

I'm the daughter of a small business owner. A literal Mom & Pop (and grandparent and uncle and great-uncles and cousins and countless family friends) operation that employed just over 100 people in the busy summer paving season, Bonds Company built just about every road in northeast Mississippi. I learned at a very early age to appreciate the contributions of a small business to it's community. And it's not just about not trusting The Man or wanting to stick it to big corporations. Data from the U.S. Small Business Administration and the Census Bureau suggests small firms (those that employ less than 500 people) provide jobs to just over half of all employed in the private sector. These operations fuel our local economies.

But it's not the statistical data that makes me all warm and fuzzy for the little guy. It's what they do to make their surroundings unique. And I know you feel the same way, too. Here's a scenario: an out-of-towner asks you for a restaurant or retail recommendation for their trip to Memphis. I'm willing to bet you won't say any of the following:
  • Oh, definitely check out the Chili's Grill & Bar at Poplar & Perkins. Their southwestern eggrolls are outta sight!
  • Be sure and swing by the Wal-Mart Super Center on Germantown Parkway. Their kitchen do-dad selection is exhaustive!
  • Stop in at the Walgreens at (insert darn near any intersection here). What a great candy selection and their customer service is dreamy.
  • There's a Pizza Hut on Union that serves THE. BEST. PIZZA. Trust me on this one.
Instead, you'll wax poetic about your favorite barbeque joint and recommend they try the sandwich or the BBQ nachos or the ribs; you'll say they should check out Lit on Summer or Union for their cooking needs; you'll say the Peanut Shoppe is where they'll need to go to satisfy their sweet tooth and be greeted by some of the nicest proprietors in town; you'll send them to Trolley Stop Market, a restaurant/locavore market led by local farmers Jill & Keith Forrester for what might be the best pizza on the planet. You'll recommend all your favorite hole-in-the-wall-only-in-Memphis places because you want your traveling friends to have the most authentic experience.

And you'll be disappointed when your favorite local institution isn't here anymore. The Memphis Heritage Foundation and it's supporters got a lot of flack for being late to show concern for the hulking Methodist Church at the intersection of Union and Cooper, only rallying around the decaying building when a national chain threatened to tear it down and replace it with an Any Suburb, USA-designed drugstore. The drug store got it's way and the church is coming down even as I type. Nashvillians rallied around their own Davis-Kidd Booksellers location only after it was announced the store would be closed at the end of 2010. The "Keep Davis-Kidd Nashville Open" facebook page had more than 3500 fans only four days after it was created, more than twice the amount of fans the store's actual facebook fan page had. The rallying cry was too late; the store WOULD be closing. Where were all those vocal supporters before?

Think about all the places you really treasure where you live. Would there be a void if it went away? Can you do something about it? Absolutely. The 3/50 Project is an organization dedicated to promoting "stronger local economies through support of independent retailers and the consumers who shop with them." The premise is this: pick 3 of your favorite places and pledge to spend $50 at each of them on a monthly basis. Stick with three for a year, if you'd like. Change it up monthly. Whatever it is, make a commitment to vote with your dollars - vote for the success of the business by SHOPPING/EATING/DRINKING/BEING there! And think about it: it's the local businesses that are raising the bar on best practices, customer service and sustainability. The behemoths seem to be in reaction mode (I'm looking at you, Wal-Mart), constantly revamping their "green" standards, their food sourcing, their safety records, their employer-provided health insurance.

Frankly, it's the locals who make our communities better. And while this is pretty funny, it doesn't have to be true. Commit to supporting those places that really do matter to you so you won't be scrambling to join the riotous mob that's too late to make a difference.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Nom Nom

I made a fitness goal for my New Year's resolution. "By the time I turn 33," I said, "I'll be down to ___" (did you really think I'd share that with you?). Well, tomorrow I turn 33 and I haven't hit the goal. Really, there's a lot of self-sabotaging going on here - there's SO much good food to eat here in Memphis and I own a bevy of cookbooks all devoted to Southern cookin' and my mom didn't exactly pass down a repertoire of low-calorie recipes. So today I started the River Workout Fitness Program led by the amazing Stacy Chick. My neighbor Whitney and I (both facing college/high school reunions later in the spring) got to the river at 5:40 this morning and proceeded to get our asses handed to us. Seriously, I thought I was going to puke. And we're gonna do it again on Thursday and for the next seven weeks (and maybe a few Saturdays) after that!

And inevitably my thoughts turn to food when I start thinking about shaping up. I'm already food obsessed; thinking about cutting back and eating healthier only makes me want the bad stuff even more. So while I've packed a slim-fast (or a slim-slow as my dad calls 'em), a few cutie clementines, some low-fat string cheese, a container of yogurt, and a 100-calorie pack of Mr. Salty chocolate-covered pretzels (I know my bag is protein-deficient - I need to do some grocery shopping), all I can think about is massive portions of cheesy lasagna from Papa Pia's, all the decadent goodies from Muddy's Bake Shop, and a cup o'gelato from the good folks over at YoLo. And then I found this:

   
mug cake2 Nutella Mug Cake
From Angie McGowan, Babble.com
 
It's cake. In a mug. And it only takes 5 minutes in the microwave. And according to the reader comments, it's got 1100 calories.

Le sigh.

So that's my motivation! I want to be so skinny that when I collapse from hunger, my bones clatter on the floor. And when I come to, I want you to have a cup of this Nutella Mug Cake ready to bring me back from the brink.

UPDATE: And today is the day I discover Local Gastropub makes a bacon brownie?!? That's just cruel.
 
Bacon brownie from Local Gastropub, Memphis, Tenn.
From Kerry Crawford Trisler, ILoveMemphisBlog.com


Friday, March 4, 2011

Bloggity Blog Blog

I've sort of stepped away from the blogging for a bit, but it's never been far from my mind. It's always on the to-do list and I've got a laundry list of topics stashed away (there are interviews from OCTOBER that I haven't posted yet!) but on a daily basis I find myself cruisin' the blogosphere and enjoying everyone else's writing so much that I just haven't wanted to take the time to put my own thoughts down. I've decided to re-commit to my little corner of the interwebs and this weekend I'll turn some of those floating ideas and interviews into posts. In the mean time, I wanted to share with you some of my latest inspirations:

1.) norococo - I adore this blog. All-around creative genius Sophorn McRae writes this gem and I especially like her graphic design/architecture/photography savvy. This post makes me smile because it's so much smarter than I am but makes all kinds of wonderful sense.

2.) The Pioneer Woman - I got the chance to meet Ree Drummond last week at Davis-Kidd Booksellers and she's fantastic! Leading up to the event, I stalked her blog with more gusto than usual and found a little ditty about Rules for Blogging.

The Marlboro Man, The Pioneer Woman, and me. We're all totally best friends now.

3.) Freedom - I had no idea this even existed, but it's pure genius. Web-crastination be damned!

4.) 750 Words - Not a blog, but an on-line journal. For your little eyes only. Know what makes better writers? More writing!

5.) Lovely and interesting homes to tour. And the weather. And the blooming trees. And spring clothes. And self-serve frozen yogurt popping up alllllll over town (like here and here and here). And music festival line-up announcements.

Can you guess what Central Gardens behemoth this ceiling belongs to?
Have a marvelous weekend, y'all! See you next week!