A cornerstone of Americana this week has taken another step toward obscurity.
Cracker Barrel unveiled its new logo, revealing a stripped-down version of what was always a welcome sight for my family come dinner time on a southbound road trip. The sketch of an old, overall-clad man sitting in a chair and resting his arm on a barrel has been retired, leaving just the brown lettering over a yellow-ochre background.
It’s not an Aunt Jemima or Uncle Ben level of betrayal, but it still feels like a blow against the collective American soul.
Cracker Barrel’s rebranding has been a gradual rollout. Earlier this year, I remember seeing pictures of the newly designed interiors of the restaurant. Gone was the framed lattice-work on the walls that looked like it had just been torn off the wrap-around porch of a country house. Gone were the pictures and tchotchkes that cluttered on top of the lattice. In their place were neatly laid out assortments of kitchen utensils – flour sifters, rolling pins, and the like. They were all neat, clean, and seemingly never used.
Along with the logo change, another adjustment was made. Remember the triangular game with pegs and golf tees? It’s still there. But instead of the game calling you an ignoramus for finishing the game with four tees, it offers a soft, consoling message of encouragement to try again.
We’re noticing these changes because they are so drastic from the cozy haphazardness that once defined the Cracker Barrel brand. But these changes have been taking place across corporate retail America right under our noses for some time now.
It may not be pride flags and BLM messaging, but the sterilization of fun atmospheres is a symptom of wokeness, as well.
Slowly but surely, Americans are being lulled into a laconic landscape where bright, happy colors and touches of whimsy are being washed away by neutral tones and inoffensive, uninspired adornments.
Do you remember what McDonald’s restaurants used to look like in the 1990s? Most of the exteriors were covered in eye-catching red, yellow, and white, with roofs that resembled Mission tile and yellow beams that reminded you of the delicious French fries waiting inside. Many had outdoor playgrounds. I remember my great-grandmother taking us to the McDonald’s on Kings Highway in New Bedford and dining in a mock trolley situated inside. Why was there a fake trolley? I don’t know. But I never questioned it, and it was fun to sit inside and eat.
Those McDonald’s are all gone. They’ve been replaced with what’s been described as a “depressed, middle-aged” McDonald’s branding, featuring drab brown and grey exteriors, almost no McPlayPlaces in sight, and sharp, rigid structural features.
There are similar downgrades of big box stores that people have noted, too. Wal-Mart no longer features the smiley face in its branding. Target, which once had neon light strips running throughout the stores with splashes of color everywhere, now feels more like a hospital with its barren white walls nearly devoid of any deviation in hue.
I say again, this is a strain of wokeness that has stricken corporate America. These forever-brands once sought to dazzle the eye and capture the imagination of every member of the family. Going to McDonald’s as a child used to feel like a special treat. But with the current branding of the Golden Arches I imagine the feeling is strictly utilitarian. There’s nothing special about it anymore. You could easily swap out the restaurant logo for a Verizon sign, and nobody would be able to tell you that a McDonald’s once occupied that space (shoutout to all the retailers housed in old Pizza Huts, I see you).
The focus of Cracker Barrel, McDonald’s, Wal-Mart, Target, etc., is no longer on the family. They no longer care to impart that feeling of a special occasion or outing. These retailers want you to feel that they are not extraordinary treats, but rather an underwhelming necessity in your everyday life. If you don’t feel like it’s a special trip to a store or restaurant, you may be apt to frequent that establishment more often.
We lose something when we lose sight of who the consumer is. When a company tries to cater to everyone, it gets interpreted as they’re catering to no one in particular. And those special touches that make us fall in love with a particular brand disappear.
I knew all of this would happen when they stopped featuring theme songs with lyrics for sitcoms. It’s been all downhill from there.