So Sallie Says

We’re getting a little too glamorous here.

Lately, I’ve been noticing a disturbing trend. Some of our most hallowed spaces, our cultural meccas, our society’s sanctuaries, are changing. These are places where, for generations, we have been able — even encouraged — to show up as our real, authentic selves, that have now been rebranded, slicked over, and resold to us with matte finishes and bespoke typefaces.

And while sometimes a refresh is good, there are certain things in life that are better when they’re a little bit rough around the edges. Like a reliable gas station that also sells breakfast sandwiches wrapped in Reynold’s Wrap and is named something like Doodle’s or Snuffy’s.

So without ado (there’s more than enough of that to go around), here’s a short list of things I personally believe have gotten too glamorous for their own good.

BBQ joints

The best kind of BBQ joint is one that has a menu that lists a meat, a quantity, and the choice of 3 sides, all of which are varying hues of mayonnaise white to mustard yellow. Now, it’s $34 for a brisket and “sauce flight” (whatever the hell that is) that they serve on a rustic board to distract you from the measley amount of food you actually get. If your establishment doesn’t serve out of styrofoam containers, have a mop in the bathroom, and decorate with framed photos of someone’s meemaw and a 1983 newspaper clipping I want nothing to do with it. And your happy hour sucks!!

Bowling alleys

Bowling alleys used to be for the people. Now, they’re for people I don’t like. Each lane comes with upscale lounge seating, an iPad with a craft cocktail menu, and probably a bidet, and while in other scenarios all those things are great, stay out of my lanes! I want my bowling alley to have beer sold for $5 out of sticky pitchers, carpets decorated with glow-in the dark stars and the crumbs of something fried, and a gaggle of 9-year olds in the arcade area that I can beat at Big Buck Hunter. If that sounds gross to you, let’s remember that bowling is either a highly competitive sport for guys who look like Guy Fieri at a municipal gym, or a recreational activity for people who are fine socializing in rented footwear. Let’s not overthink it.

Minivans

The minivan used to be a beautiful, humble box on wheels with cupholders for everyone. Now, minivans have ambient lighting, 16 USB ports, and a touchscreen the size of a Jumbotron. Don’t get me wrong, I love these upgrades. I just want them to be attainable for everyone. Especially for me. I want a minivan.

Movies

Going to the movies is now a luxury experience, and I don’t think anyone asked for this. We didn’t say “truffle popcorn,” we said “extra salty cardiac arrest butter jumbo size popcorn.” We didn’t ask for reserved seating, or even the recliners — no one should be that comfortable in public. We don’t need waiters and waitresses, we just need a teenager to walk the aisle mid-show with a light saber to make sure no one is making out in the back of the theater.

I want to be clear: I’m not anti-nice-things, and I’m not a bitter old-timer (though the tone of this post might suggest I was in a past life, and I certainly haven’t ruled it out for the future). I love good lighting, menus that offer options for my gluten-free brethren, and a vacuum cleaner specifically for the car. I just want to have a little worse of a time, save a few bucks, and call it nostalgia.