Every generation thinks they are special. Dickens's wrote, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times" back in 1859. After the death of Jesus, many Christians thought the end of days was at hand. Some cave dwellers probably thought their generation was special because they used fire to barbecue a T-rex.
A closer truth is each generation is special in its own time and we live in special times today. In our time, we are living through a redistribution of intellectual wealth as we experience the change from the industrial age to the information age. In our time, failure to take part in the knowledge economy can lead to exclusion from economic opportunÃty and growth.
A closer truth is each generation is special in its own time and we live in special times today. In our time, we are living through a redistribution of intellectual wealth as we experience the change from the industrial age to the information age. In our time, failure to take part in the knowledge economy can lead to exclusion from economic opportunÃty and growth.
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A couple of weeks ago I emerged from the parking garage at Oakland's Jack London square and was surprised to find a line of people standing at a taco truck. Not only are taco trucks not usually at the Square, but the line was unusually long. I then noticed the truck had no tacos but boutique cupcakes instead. The sugar junkies were patiently waiting to pay three bucks a shot for their fix. They stood sentry waiting for their sweet guilty pleasure. The scene reminded me of the Soup Nazi episode from Seinfeld.
For those of you unfamiliar, the Soup Nazi was a gourmet soup chef with a tiny storefront site in NYC who served great soup but would serve you only if you followed his rigid decorum. Any deviation would result in a loud "No soup for you!" and a quick soup-less dismissal from his shop.
While I didn't hear the cupcake vendor shout "no cake for you!" I did sense a power the cupcake vendor had over his clientele. After all, if he decided he didn't like the cut of your jib and refused to sell you a cupcake, where else were you going to get your fix? There is no bakery anywhere near Jack London Square. I guess you could rush to a nearby restaurant and order desert but that's as close as you could get. This tricked out roach coach appears out of nowhere and well-behaved customers converge like zombies to get their sugar on. How? Why?
For those of you unfamiliar, the Soup Nazi was a gourmet soup chef with a tiny storefront site in NYC who served great soup but would serve you only if you followed his rigid decorum. Any deviation would result in a loud "No soup for you!" and a quick soup-less dismissal from his shop.
While I didn't hear the cupcake vendor shout "no cake for you!" I did sense a power the cupcake vendor had over his clientele. After all, if he decided he didn't like the cut of your jib and refused to sell you a cupcake, where else were you going to get your fix? There is no bakery anywhere near Jack London Square. I guess you could rush to a nearby restaurant and order desert but that's as close as you could get. This tricked out roach coach appears out of nowhere and well-behaved customers converge like zombies to get their sugar on. How? Why?
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