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Editor’s note: The views expressed in I Am So Popular are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the outlook or beliefs of anyone else in the IST network.
One of the ten million things I love about Austin is how well this town lends itself to the creative class—those of us dreamers who eschew cubicle jobs and want to figure how to put matzoh on the table through some fun, interesting endeavor that pays (I’m trying hard to avoid the word “work” here).
It’s precisely because Austin embraces this lifestyle that I’ve been able to support my writing habit through putting on camps and shows and performing non-traditional weddings and working all sorts of nutty gigs. And oh, how I admire my creative class cohorts.
Back around 2002, I met David Ansel at a dinner party thrown by Lisa Kaselak. David was just starting a business, inspired by a trip he took to Real de Catorce (a Mexican village I would one day come to count on for my annual escape-Christmas plot). David’s business, the Soup Peddler, involved making good, homemade soup and delivering it to people’s homes. By bicycle.
I’ve been a journalist now for twenty-five years. In all of my time reporting news, I can think of only one injury I sustained in the field. That came the night I interviewed the Soup Peddler and he set me to the task of stirring a pot of soup the size of a VW Beetle using a spoon that was, I think, actually a canoe paddle. Goodbye flexibility, hello carpal tunnel!
But it was well worth it. I got a good story out of the deal and then I wrote a couple more about SP. Then Lisa took one of my stories and used it, in part, as a basis for a documentary she made about SP, which ran on PBS. I’m in it and the Soup Peddler, of course, is in it. And if you think about it, So Popular and Soup Peddler have a lot of letters in common and even sort of sound alike if you slur your words. No wonder David and I are friends.
It’s been a while since I caught up with SP so I gave him a call and asked if I could email him a few questions about the business. Hearing about my last column, David—wisely not wanting to risk landing on my shit list— cheerfully and immediately set down everything he was doing and agreed to humor me. Herewith, So Popular chats it up with Soup Peddler:
SG: What is it about Austin and the creative class—is it my imagination or is this city a place where people really can turn nutty ideas into successful reality?
SP: Not everything is a product of your imagination, Spike. I think that you’re talking about the magic of Austin, the critical mass of creativity and collective desire to lead a life according to one’s own passion. That combination plays out in so many ways… music, art, theatre, community… you’re just talking about the business facet of the prism. I remember arriving here about ten years ago and noticing that critical mass, realizing that there’s a different fabric of life here, a different possibility.
SG: You're awfully successful. When we met you had what? Like a dozen customers? Can you tell me how many you have now?
SP: We serve about six or seven hundred households a week. It looks like 2008 is going to be our first million dollar year in revenues. That’s pretty nice but not exactly a big deal compared with some of the successful restaurants in town. And it’s really insignificant compared with the things I’m most proud of right now… our staff and our food. The money is good because it makes us more stable and makes me less of a nervous wreck. We have money in the bank so we can maybe move to a new place, weather a rough spell, or give bonuses or whatever.
SG: What's the downside of success? Do you ever get sick of being the Soup Peddler?
SP: I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, I’m utterly fulfilled. I have an insanely blessed life. So, no downside to success. There have been some quite serious bumps in the road, but mostly those ended up recalibrating my instincts. I really trust my instincts much more now and feel that some of my knowledge is hard-won. Being acknowledged as The Soup Peddler and generally a nice guy makes me feel like part of this village, and I love that. I know what people mean when they say “actualized.” I feel utterly content with who I am.
SG: Tell me about the soups-- most popular, least popular, most labor intensive, etc?
SG: You started out on a bike and eventually grew to the point that you had to switch to truck delivery. Was there an outcry?
SP: There was an outcry. But people didn’t realize that our business model of efficiently routed deliveries is in itself a very green practice… not as obvious as the bike, but an order of magnitude more efficient than normal delivery models or excluding many neighborhoods from delivery and forcing those customers to drive to pick up. We’re still doing a little bike delivery just to keep the faith, but my priorities are more about the food and my employees. Everyone that counts stuck with me through the transition. And while it was rough on me at the time and I beat myself up about it, I can honestly now say that whoever thought or thinks ill of me for that can stick it up their ass. I mean, who the fuck are you, man? I can clearly see how people were disappointed, because there was this superhero thing about it and it was like they lost their hero… they liked the fact that The Soup Peddler existed out there, that there was this sparky revolutionary out there fighting for the side of good with a smile, then all of a sudden the Soup Peddler story went to shit like everything else, nothing is pure, everything becomes sullied, blah blah blah. I really got to see a flash of what fame is like… this disconnect between public persona and private self. Very strange.
SG: You and your lovely wife just had a baby? Has she had her first soup?
SP: Meredith has mostly done the work… Mia Rose is the baby and she mostly just likes milk at this stage. Though she did enjoy watching me make chopped liver today in preparation for Passover. These days are just glorious, I can now understand when parents say things like, “you’ll always be my baby” or “you turn around and they’re grown up.” I wish I could press pause right now and live forever in some of these moments. It is very fleeting, very rich but fleeting.
SG: Are you sick of soup?
SP: For a while I think I was. I’m back with it now though. I’ve gotten into other slow cooking styles like braising and smoking. Like soupmaking, it’s like alchemy… take the cheapest cuts and turn them into pure gold.
SG: What other tricks do you have up your sleeves-- any new creative businesses on the horizon for you?
SP: I think the Soupies are an incredibly sweet group of people, for the most part. We feel VERY blessed and we get a lot out of the interactions we have with them. However, sometimes we want to throttle some of the less friendly ones. We even had a voodoo doll for one customer once. So, with that in mind, I wanted my next business to have ZERO customer interaction. It would be called “Glory Hole Sandwiches.” There is one amazing sandwich, it costs ten dollars. There are no options, no change, no sides, no beverages. There is just this hole in the wall, one side faces the kitchen, one side faces the street. When a ten dollar bill comes in the hole, we stick a sandwich out the hole. That’s it.
SG: What's your advice to someone who is sitting in their cubicle thinking, "Damn I wish I could be like the Soup Peddler and make my creative dreams come true?"
SP: One of my greatest hobbies right now is trampling on people’s dreams. I feel like it’s my obligation to let people know exactly how far-fetched their fantasies are… I’m here to weed out the weak ones. People often come to me for advice and I try to be like Simon on American Idol… tough love. Direct, not mincing words, but ultimately lovable. I just ask them all the hardest questions, make people work on their numbers. A lot of people don’t work on their numbers, they just think it’s all gonna work out fine. They’re probably wrong. You have to work on your numbers, your pro formas, so that you can make actual decisions instead of random coin tosses. I did a pro forma for 2007, estimates for scores of line items, twelve months across, hundreds of thousands of dollars… bottom line, I was off by $600 for the year. That’s where it’s at ultimately in business.
SG: Who are some creative class members in Austin you admire?
SP: Are you digging for compliments? My absolute idols are Tim and Karrie League of the Alamo Drafthouse (and now, the rest of their creative team). My favorite business in the world. Many parallels between The Soup Peddler and the Alamo, both in terms of unique business model and certain facets of our histories. But they do the creative thing a thousand times better than us.
Spike Gillespie blogs for LaunchPad Coworking and www.spikeg.com. She is head mistress of The Dick Monologues-- next show April 23rd Hyde Park Theater (email spike@spikeg.com for details). She is embarrassingly popular.
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Are his trucks hybrids? Biodiesel powered?
Fred Flintstone pedal trucks?
Awesome piece, Spike.
My favorite question (and his answer) was this one:
Starting a business is super intimidating. People look at those stats of new businesses that fail within two years and just give up without startubg. But those numbers are explained by what the Soup Peddler says in his answer. People don't realistically evaluate their idea's potential for success. They start a business based on what they like and think there's so many other people that like the same thing that it'll have to be successful. Two years later they're out of operating capital and have learned the critical mass they expected does not exist.
I'm happy this guy has succeeded. If he'd have come to me asking if that was a good business to start, I'd have pounced on the unscalability of the bicycle model. Sounds like he came to grips with that, though.
Hopefully Spike and the Soup Peddler have inspired some cubicle prisoners to execute on their dreams to create more unique Austin businesses.
Seth
The creative class is all well and good, except that they all tend to be the same - white people from middle class and more affluent backgrounds.
We of the great Eastern Bloc of Austin urge those in the creative class to join us in our efforts to gentrify. We need your help to remove these regular working-class Mexicans to create the critical mass of creativity. The critical mass will build upon critical mass until our creativity will explode and all will celebrate the glorious magic of Austin. Streamers, breakfast tabos, glitter, and ticker tape will fill the city skyline as the critical mass of creativity is realized. We can then marvel in our own self-importance in our role of creating the magic of Austin. Then repeat.
i'm curious to know where the stats are on "all tend to be..." i grew up very poor, in a blue collar family. i credit a lot of my ability to function well in the creative class to my mother's ingenuity and creativity. she had to feed and clothe nine kids on my father's small salary and to do this she sewed a lot of our clothes, figured out how to stretch ingredients (and be creative with them) and she kept us busy not with expensive toys (impossible) but simple interactive arts and crafts and also, in my case, permission to experiment in the kitchen. every summer when i'm leading kids in arts and crafts activities at one of my camps, i stop to have gratitude for my mom. it was also this creativity that allowed me to support my son when i was struggling financially as a freelance writer just starting out. the creative class wasn't just a chance for me to make money with work that held my attention. there was (and is) also a flexibility that allowed me to attend my son's school activities and be home for him in the afternoons when school was done, which was very much something i wanted to do. so, anyway, i'm thinking not *all* creative class members emerge from the White & Wealthy background. i certainly didn't.
The so-called 'creative class' does not exclude applicants based on race or economic background. In fact, if this group even exists as a tangible 'class', it includes anyone who volunteers to be in it. If there is a stereotype you are going to apply to this group, it's not the fault of the group, but of external factors that limit interest in joining the group.
The gentrification criticism is wholly unfounded. The goal of unique, home-grown Austin businesses like the Soup Peddler is not to gentrify neighborhoods. It's to give consumers and workers an alternative to the big box and chain stores. Have North Loop shops like The Parlor, Epoch or the Bike Peddler displaced neighborhood residents by raising the property values? Fuck no.
Personally, I'm not a fan of this 'creative class' term because it does provide a structure for categorizing people, which any card-carrying member of such class would dismiss without a moment's thought.
Seth
"Have North Loop shops like The Parlor, Epoch or the Bike Peddler displaced neighborhood residents by raising the property values? Fuck no."
As someone who was displaced from North Loop before the Bike Peddler and Epoch got there, FUCK YES.
There is legitimacy in the cirticism that you have to already have money to be a part of the creative class. I have creative friends that make great art, music, and poetry but none of them can make a thing from it because they have to focus on making a living at least 8 hours a day.
What life was like when you were a child in the 40s, 50s, or 60s has absolutely no significance today. Things have changed for the worse and nobody can fart around being a hippy dippy freelance good for nothing all day long anymore. Rent and groceries are too expensive for that. Anybody with their head in the NOW can tell you that you have to have money to make money.
See this? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Maslow%27s_hierarchy_of_needs.svg
See how high up there above everything else creativity is? You can be naturally brilliant and creative but if your very basic needs aren't met then you cannot free your mind enough to engage in creative pursuits and join the creative class. That's some Psych 101 shit right there.
When a creative class is defined, it doesn't mean to exclude people, but it creates a culture, or rather defines a culture that is unintentionally narrow. I worry sometimes that Austin is defining itself entirely by its creative class, which TENDS to be affluent and white.
I give one example of the struggles that Austin and its creative class face: When I first moved to the city during my freshmen year of college and I was taking in all the arts and live music I could handle. I asked a coworker of mine (a black guy from the Dallas area) what was his favorite live music venue in town. He didn't have one. He didn't care for much of the music that was played live downtown. And not only that, there was a feeling that "his" music wasn't represented.
The problem was (and is) that the city is promoting this creative class, while leaving certain cultures and arts out of the creative mix. Hell, could UGK, NWA or any other set of rappers have survived in with Austin's creative class?
Multiple dimensions of creativity are required for an artist to sustain their existence from art. The obvious level is for a person to be creative in their art. But having the creativity to apply that art in a commercial manner that's rewarding (psychically and financially) to the artist, that's the trait your friends are missing, Mouth.
If a tarot card shop that's perpetually closed gentrified your ass off of North Loop, I am not sure that any part of any city will be affordable for you, Mouth.
Seth
I love, love, love the Soup Peddler. Incredible food, and a great Austin story. I'm glad to hear that David is so happy doing it.
I'm sorry to hear there was drama around moving to truck delivery. I guess there are always detractors when people have the nerve to succeed and grow ;)
Thanks for the interview. Now I think I'll go heat up some Shrimp & Corn Chowder. Yum!
Waterlewd and LoudMouth are spot on. The Soup Peddler and its ilk (Dandelion Cafe, Blue Dahlia, Home Slice) are run exclusively by and for the loathsome hipster/yuppie hybrids (yupsters?) that have infested this city of late.
Oh, and just so there's no confusion, let's read an excerpt from ol' Spike's other blog:
Then his assistant would translate the whole thing into Spanish for the Latina families. Then more English. Then more Spanish. And my uber-liberal politics went out the window [...] and I was like, “Learn the language already!”
Please, "Spike," do us all a favor and fuck off back to wherever it is you're from.
What's your advice to someone who is sitting in their cubicle thinking, "Damn I wish I could be like the Soup Peddler and make my creative dreams come true?"
My advice would be to stick to the cubicle job, fatally unhip as it is. At least with a regular job there's a possibility of leaving it behind when you exit those dreary cloth-lined walls. As a member of the creativariat, however, your entire life will colonized by work (there's no punching out when you are a card-carrying member of the creative class!), all of your relationships with other people will ultimately be motivated by the imperative to network and exchange -- there can be no escape from commerce.
I like how being a member of the creative class -- the ultimate social clique -- is always presented as a transgressive lifestyle choice, when of course it's exactly what The Man wants. Neoliberalism desires nothing more than to make labor the focal point of all life and to make all human relations like a business transaction. The creative classes are the ultimate vanguard for this capitalist ethic, and overheated rhetoric about fulfillment and expression only makes entrepreneurship seem more and more an inevitable part of life.
All this creative-class stuff is a bunch of crap, of course. Turning "nutty ideas into successful reality" is not the expression of a great motivating passion for creativity and community -- it's a way to make money. There's nothing wrong with that as far is it goes, but it shouldn't be portrayed as anything but that. The immense layers of metaphysical meaning that are piled on in the discussion of the creative class, besides being extremely puke-worthy, only act to hide the fact that it is an affirmation of the dominant economic rationality of our time -- a rationality that leaves tens of millions struggling to eat and find shelter and most of the rest living in a semipermanent state of anxiety and fear.
for me being part of the creative class, means a number of things, a big one-- as noted-- being flexibility. i spent twentyish years getting to a point where i can comfortably support myself with my writing, and still, the real bread and butter stuff is extremely commercial marketing writing. and there are some weeks where working seven days a week or sixty hours (or both) happens. but really, i only have to work ten hours a week now to support myself. and a lot of my creative endeavors-- this column for example-- i do for no pay at all. i get a satisfaction from the outlet. not being in an office job (the sort that absolutely works for a lot of people who want security, which is nothing to sneeze at) has allowed me to do all sorts of other projects-- start a small non-profit that puts out a naked calendar to raise money for health care for kids of artists and musicians, host an annual event (the kickass awards) to give recognition to unsung heroes around town, and put on any number of shows that don't earn me money but allow me to forge community, share my work, and connect with others not in the hopes i can use those connections for business purposes but simply because, as a human, i enjoy connections.
as for having to have money to begin with, again, i disagree. persistence and a willingness to use "free" time to build one's creative business go a long way toward making a creative dream a reality. so, when my kid was little, and i was a single mom waiting on tables and bartending to pay for food and rent and childcare, i was also carving out time to work on my writing, submit it to magazines, and just push for what i wanted. and i got it. it's not easy. it takes a long time. but i'm glad i made the effort and i'm glad that the effort led me to a place where not only do i have satisfaction in my creative work, i also have time (and money) to share with people who can use (and are interested in receiving) what i have to offer.
Important to recognize here that the creative class doesn't pay for itself - only a large input of dollars from day-jobbers keeps that system going.
Or a large input of dollars from your wealthy parents.
spike: what a rich and spirited interview
intruglia garfagnana = my new stage name
Spike,
I respect your skills as a writer and would like to get my hands on your quilting book. Nonetheless, I'm going to give you some advice.
You can make a stronger case for your concepts if you don't always revert into first-person to illustrate them. You can easily cite the myriad of creative entrepreneurism examples that exist throughout Austin. The Soup Peddler, Blue Genie, The Splinter Group, Michael Sieben, Graham Williams, Michael Bluejay, et. al.
Their success didn't come from daddy's dollars. It came from their hard work and dedication to the long haul.
Seth
seth,
i don't know how i lived for all these years without your brilliant insights into how to run my life, illustrate my points, raise my kids, and write my column. i just thank god above and the baby jesus and all seven of the dwarves-- er, i mean "little people"-- that you came along to provide me with guidance. soon, i'll start telling you how to do your job, too! it can be our own creative class thingie!
thanks again!
love,
spike
Seth, to be fair, it's kind of supposed to be the thing for columnists here to go first-person, in special contrast to the normal (possibly not so much anymore) "we".
Don't, Ms. Gillespie, mistake my criticisms of "the" creative class as criticism of how you make your living. I'm happy you've found a way to get by that suits you, and I would never criticize anyone for how they go about ensuring their survival. My problem is when this brute economic reality is dressed in the language of creativity and community and is expanded to the social level. In other words, there is, for example, a difference between your earning a living and the Soup Peddler peddling soup. The Soup Peddler, like Exxon Mobil and Wal-Mart, is in the business of making money, and like Exxon Mobil and Wal-Mart, it exploits labor to do so. I don't lionize Exxon Mobil and Wal-Mart for that, and I certainly wouldn't do the same with the Soup Peddler, no matter how local/quirky/creative/magical/weird it is.
That said, there's something a little condescending and, dare I say, Republican in your response (and not just your response -- creative-class philosophy in general is, despite or maybe because of its enlightened positions on social issues, deeply individualistic and conservative). You seem to think that the only reason people have office jobs is to gain a sense of security. That's pretty patronizing. Isn't it possible that the poor cubicle-dwellers have actually made a calculation that differs from yours and that they are just as capable of participating in groovy projects or otherwise finding happiness, even if they aren't paid-in-full members of the creative class?
Then there's this: "persistence and a willingness to use 'free' time to build one's creative business go a long way toward making a creative dream a reality." Which is followed by the enumeration of how through long odds and hard work you fought through the adversity to become a successful creative agent. I'm sorry, but this is Gingrichian bootstrap economic philosophy at its finest: Not only the assumption that your conditions are universal and the Protestant faith in the inherent goodness of hard work, but, absent the acknowledgment that not everyone is as well positioned to succeed as you are, the implied slightly hectoring undertone that everyone else could/should be able to do it as well. But not everyone else is. As mdahmus points out, your, say, $100-an-hour marketing writing gig with Dell is possible in part because someone somewhere is making $6.50 an hour, or a day, making the actual Dell computers. There's no reason to feel guilty about this state of affairs, but there's also no reason to rhapsodize about you and your cohorts' irrepressible greatness. You are, after all, just making money.
Actually, Ersatzeric, I was kinda going the opposite way on that - my point was that the work of the 'creative class' is only possible because it's constantly subsidized by the office drones working in the cubicles who have chosen to pay at least twice in most cases - once directly (ticket/buying the book/whatever) and usually once indirectly (donations; city taxpayer support for the arts; etc.).
An economy with nothing but cubicle dwellers and other full-time-day-job-holders (including those $6.50/hour computer builders, farmers, etc) would be functional - but one with nothing but the creative class would quickly starve to death.
Apologies for the vagueness of my earlier comments. I meant that first person wasn't effective in the comment-jousting going on here about the 'creative class' concept.
This article has certainly struck a nerve with cubicle workers and those who wish they had a cubicle.
I have no complaints about Spike's article. I kind of wish she wouldn't have introduced this 'creative class' angle and instead focused on the entrepreneurial aspect of what the Soup Peddler has accomplished. But as a result, there's more depth to the piece and she has certainly gotten readers thinking and discussing more than just starting their own business.
Seth
"Isn't it possible that the poor cubicle-dwellers have actually made a calculation that differs from yours and that they are just as capable of participating in groovy projects or otherwise finding happiness, even if they aren't paid-in-full members of the creative class?"
cosigned!! There's no way my art would make money (esp. in this town), and, being physical in nature, my free, full-coverage health insurance is the primary motivator for keeping my job. I'm not one for mornings, nor for 40-hour work weeks, but if i can train everyday and pay only co-pay fees if i injure myself, you better bet your ass i'll be at work in the morning.
Security? Sure. I think of it more along the lines of playing with my cake and eating it too.
Not to mention my tuition is reimbursed as well ;)
as the chef for the soup peddler and a good friend of david's, i would hardly say his success is partially a result of exploiting labor. I have worked in professional kitchens for over 15 years and can say with conviction that david is a sparkling example of a human being in an industry of tyrants that truly respects and generously compensates his "laborers".
I don't mean "exploit" in the sense that he chains his workers to the stove and lashes them every time they slow down or screw up. I have no reason to believe he's not a nice guy and a great person to work for. I mean exploit in the sense that he uses workers to create more value, which is what gives him a profit. It's not the moral meaning of exploit. It's the way in which all employers use employees to make money. Profit's not created out of thin air; it's created by a company's workers.
Hurrah for the complaining class.