November 2, 2002.
The Last Broadcast


I am deeply concerned about some changes I have noticed in my friendly neighborhood Publix.

Please allow me to share them with you.

In a nutshell, Publix is getting too savvy for its own good. They are getting all Clever about the music they play in the stores.

Like any good retail outfit, Publix used to pipe in some really good 90's songs along with some really clunky old songs from twenty or thirty years ago. They would mix in a Neil Diamond song with a Chris Isaak song (believe me, friends, there is no romance like hearing "Wicked Game" while you're browsing through the citrus fruits).

I could take or leave Chris Isaak; what I really love is hearing those incredibly dippy songs from 30 years ago. They really lighten me up. The usual chore of doing the grocery shopping becomes a guilty pleasure when it's set to the strains of that tragically hummable hit, "Love Will Keep Us Together."

But now Publix has run some profiles on their customers, and freshened up their music selections.

People, this is bad. This is very bad!

This week I dropped by the Publix to pick up a couple of items, and do you know what song they were playing? "Caught By the River" by The Doves!

It was the confirmation of my worst suspicions. I'd tried to ignore the Coldplay and the Lucinda Williams during previous shopping trips. But no longer. I have to say it: things are getting a little too modern over there. I'm afraid that by getting all hip on me, Publix is just setting themselves up on a "slippery slope." I mean, what's next? "Exit Music" by Radiohead, while I'm sniffing the beef tips? Me and a kumquat, subjected to Tori's "Me and a Gun"?

It's not just bad 70's music I'm afraid of losing. I don't want my legitimate Powerful Music Experiences to be pre-empted by this guerilla marketing ploy. Some music really is too meaningful and rich to be played over loudspeakers in the grocery store. My friend José understood perfectly when I started griping about this. He's afraid of losing that precious memory of driving down Ponce de Leon at sunset while listening to "San Jacinto" to the memory of finding the perfect plum tomato at Publix while listening to "San Jacinto."

Publix, if you're listening, hear me clearly: Not everything in life needs to be an existential experience. Sometimes, you just need to boogie down the canned goods aisle, and that's all there is to it.