Posthuman Blues

Dear Starbucks,

Why the music?

Oh, I know why. It's hip, trendy, and helps sell the ubiquitous compilation CDs that compete for space among the laughably overpriced espresso machines and ergonomic thermos mugs. But it's too loud. And it seems to be getting worse.

Tonight I bought a grande Sumatran, sat down to read and, reluctantly, had to leave. You were playing your satellite radio station at full-on dance club volume. Needless to say, concentration -- or even conversation, judging by the shouting and pained expressions I observed at neighboring tables -- was effectively impossible.

You call your music label "Hear Music," which is quite appropriate. Because I can hear it from the damned parking lot.

I fondly remember the evenings I spent sipping joe in your stores while reading or writing. The music was there, but it was ambient and unobtrusive, even enjoyable. Now you seem intent on punishing your customers with it, like some vacuous teenager out to impress his friends with the oversized subwoofers in the back of his modified Honda Civic.

Please explain this behavior to me. Or let me write the text for one of your "The Way I See It" paper cups -- I'd be happy to contribute a short meditation on the solace that accompanies common-sense discretion.

Or simply turn down the music, because it's banished one of the last refuges left to me in this dizzying sprawl of appliance stores, "neighborhood" sports-bars, franchise barber shops, Wal-Marts, and megaplexes.

Sincerely yours,
Mac Tonnies, author