MISC. REGRETS TO REPORT this will be the final weekend for Belltown’s Cyclops restaurant (around, under various names and owners, almost as long as Soundgarden was). Dinner’s served for the last time this Saturday, followed by one final Sunday brunch. The artists living in the SCUD building’s other spaces will all be out by June. Last-ditch preservation petitions notwithstanding, Harbor Properties is itchin’ to replace it with demographically-correct condos (maybe even including a few hi-ceiling models to be media-hyped as “artist housing”). Speaking of developers and their close friends…
BEYOND THE NORM: Like Soundgarden (whom he still may have never heard), retiring mayor Rice may have felt he had no further worlds to conquer at this time. He’d put himself into a political dead end, as shown in his ’96 campaign for governor. Having turned his office over to the chain stores and developers, he had no more popular support left (except from the construction unions); while no urban Democrat, no matter how “pro-business,” stood much of a chance in a statewide race last year against the forces of Hate Talk radio. The question is what we’ll get next. Various city and county insiders are jockeying for position in the next mayoral election. I worry we might end up with yet another “civil society” insider who’ll promise loyalty to “neighborhood” priorities at first, only to end up within a year, as yet another developers’ lackey. Or somebody like city attorney Mark Sidran, who probably wouldn’t hold the populist pose half that long. Speaking of poses…
LOCAL PUBLICATION OF THE WEEK: Longtime Sub Pop art director Hank Trotter’s new slick-paper magazine Kutie is more than just another attempt at a cocktail-culture girlie mag. Trotter, a fan of pre-’70s pinup art who’s been planning the mag for over two years, has gone beyond nostalgia to rethink the whole men’s-mag formula. Unlike most anything else (“mainstream” “or “alternative”) out there, it treats the het-male sex drive not as evil or stupid but as an impetus to good quasi-clean fun. The photo spreads (shot by Charles Peterson, who previously took many Soundgarden pix) evoke a spirit of new-girlfriend playful discovery; a refreshing change from porn-biz ennui and supermodels’ cold smiles. Stranger fave Anna Woolverton’s got some cool writing in it too. ($7 at Fallout, Zanadu, and other fine indie-print outlets.) Speaking of manly displays…
JUNK FOOD OF THE WEEK: Reader Deborah Shamoon spotted a new fad from Japan (where Soundgarden’s long been popular): “You have probably heard of that peculiarly Japanese snack food, Pocky (pronounced `pokie’). It’s a thin pretzel stick dipped in chocolate. There are many variants, in which the flavor is somehow advertised in the name: Chocolate Swirl, Strawberry Custard, etc. Well, now there is a Men’s Pocky, available at Uwajimaya. It comes in a macho green box, with the word “Men’s” in English in stark white letters on a black background. On the back it says in English, “Crispy pretzel dipped in dark chocolate for the intelligent connoisseur who enjoys the finer points in life.” It goes on to expound in Japanese about the full cocoa flavor.
“American consumers may wonder what makes this snack food particularly male. The vaguely phallic shape?… Actually, I think this is a clever marketing ploy. Japanese people generally believe only women and children like sweet food; eating candy is seen as a sign of childishness… I remember my host father announcing scornfully he didn’t care for sweets as he wolfed down box after box of Valentine’s chocolate. A semi-sweet chocolate Pocky is the solution to this problem, and by adding “Men’s” to the name, [manufacturer] Glico clearly hopes to bolster the frail egos of men who have a yearning for a chocolate-coated pretzel snack.
“We have this kind of thing in the US, with men’s hair dye, hair spray, and (recently, I have heard) nail polish. I think the idea should be expanded: How about “Brawn,” the diet cola for men? Oreos for Men? Ben & Jerry’s Muscle Man? Clearly there is an untapped market potential.” As for me, I’ll patiently wait for the chance to sip a Man’s Mai-Tai while adventuresomely perusing a Rrugged Romance by Harlequin For Him. (Hey, it could happen.)
