Sonic Boom Records Saves Fremont Ave
When Fremont News closed last November, our hearts wept a little. We prepared to write another snarky post entitled something like "Fremont Ave. Prepares for Much-needed New Over-priced Boutique". We hate over-priced boutiques because, for example, they make us buy high-quality, cute shoes at appropriately expensive prices. The last thing we needed was yet another over-priced boutique to tempt our paltry pocketbooks; the last thing Fremont needed was yet another over-priced shop to cater to the young, upwardly-mobile punks who ruin our neighborhoods!!!
Naturally, this made us think about the larger problem of Fremont. When we first moved here in the autumn of aught-two, we thought this might be a good neighborhood perhaps not to live in but certainly in which to work. We liked the mix of uppity and gritty, though we did immediately sense the crowding out of affordability and idiosyncrasy. Now that we work here, all we can think is fuck Fremont.
Coming from jobs in Rainier Valley, the ID, and downtown, the overbearing uniformity of whiteness in Fremont has been getting to us, first of all. Additionally, the shuttering of Fremont News seemed symbolic of what else is going on here. Death comes in threes, right? First, the Red Apple's demise took away affordable groceries. Then Fremont News went under. Suddenly, we kept a closer eye on the Taco del Mar. Sometimes, you just want non-pretentious stuff at -- here's the important part -- an affordable price.
In Fremont, our current grocery options are... PCC. Yeah, yeah, local growers... co-op... conscientious production... *yawn zzzzzzz*. It's great that lefties of means can practice economic mortification and bleed their wallets to assuage their well-paid consciences but a lotta spit of good that does for those of us that can't quite afford it. That's why we like Trader Joe's: they are reasonably organic and conscientious and they treat their employees well, yet they work enough within the morally-bankrupt capitalist system to keep prices affordable. We have no idea mafia front how they pull this off but that's the kind of balance our wallets can get behind! Screw PCC, its tasty nine-dollars-a-pound salads, and its ironic roast beef and pepperjack sandwiches with Vegenaise. Damn you, That Guy, and your hearty soups!
But The Fremont Problem goes beyond economic philosophy. Try finding a snack in Fremont that's not flour-less or egg-less or not made of spelt, flax, or non-bleached, pressed softwood pulp. Just a god-damned unhealthy Snickers bar, that's all we want! To get one, you would have to walk all the way down to the 7-Eleven on 35th Street.
This is where Fremont News saved the day. Aside from their compelling collection of print literature, they had a few shelves devoted to high-fructose corn syrup, artificial flavors, red #4, blue #3, AND yellow #5. They even had a freezer of ice cream novelties, praise Jesus! Ice cream, Mandrake, children's ice cream! This is why we wept when this glorious place closed.
Thankfully, a new over-priced boutique did not open in its former spot. The wise people at Sonic Boom Records next door annexed the joint. The overtones of political machinations that come pre-packaged with the word annex tickled us, certainly, but what won us over was spying the ice cream novelties freezer re-installed in full glory. Drumsticks, Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookie Sandwiches, Eskimo Pies, and traditional ice cream sandwiches with both vanilla and Neapolitan filling! Indeed, this was a great coup for Fremont.
Moreover, it eventually became known as the Sonic Boom General Store. We love that terminology. Why should shopping malls be the only ones co-opting small town, Main Street tropes? Why not have, you know, actual Main-Street-like business districts re-adopting yesteryear's quaint, charming nomenclature? Bravo, Sonic Boom, well played!
But to fully appreciate the gestalt of the Sonic Boom General Store requires a little imagination. Reader, slip away with us as we plug in the old What If machine:
It's a lazy, sunny, July afternoon; temperatures hover in the high 70s. A group of hipsters sits on old, wooden barrels scattered across the General Store's storefront sidewalk. Hunched over, a dark-haired boy with impossibly thin loins is fussing about the best way to keep his skinny jeans from tucking into his Chucks while his girlfriend admires her new red patent kitten heels. The others detachedly watch the high-society yuppies walking into the Starbucks across the street for a dessert Crappulatte to follow up happy hour sushi. One of them is wearing blue denim overalls, purchased at Deluxe Junk, in a most ironic manner.A block down, the recording of chimes rings out, signifying that the Fremont Bridge is about to go up. Traffic backs up on Fremont Ave, obscuring the view. A relatively upbeat Colin Meloy emerges from inside and stands at the threshold. He sets down his paper grocery sack from which a few LPs are poking out. He crunches the remains of his Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop and retrieves an Eskimo Pie from the bag. As he unwraps it, he looks over toward the bridge to see that an ostentatious motor yacht is passing below. "Fucking oppressors," he mumbles. One of the hipsters, wearing silver aviator sunglasses and holding a yellow, water-proof Walkman, nods once in agreement.
"Hey, you guys know where I can find some coriander?" he asks nobody in particular. The astonishingly retro-chic woman points toward PCC. He picks up his grocery sack and walks to the crosswalk. "There we go," says her boyfriend and stands up to admire the sleek line of his trousers draping nonchalantly over his shoes.
It is a shame for Mr. Meloy that he would not be able to get coriander here. Nor would he be able to pick up smokes and milk. We spoke briefly to the manager, who is not a big fan of the name, and he mentioned that a few people have been disappointed to not have been able to buy cigarettes. We get his point; General Store seems to imply the availability of tobacco, perishable diary items, and the latest broadsheet from back East -- maybe even low-brow pornography behind the counter. Seattlest thinks this precisely underscores the need for more places in Fremont to buy such items.
Regardless of the name and lack of porn, though, a huge thank you, Sonic Boom, for restoring at least a little balance in Nouveau Fremont! Someday, we may be in a state to buy a disc with our Drumstick. Until then, though, you are our stop for Apple and Grape, as well as original, Lemonheads.
We like our pricey, quality, t-strapped heels as well as our cheap ice cream novelties sans flax seed. It can be said (by that meddlesome passive voice) that we have misplaced priorities and that we should save our money for more conscientious grocery shopping. Step off, Strawman! If only we had an affordable Grocery and Dry Goods Merchant in downtown Fremont, we'd do it. You hear that, Trader Joe's Mafia?
