Simple burlap clothes matched the sacks of coffee carried atop his loyal burro, as Juan's smile to the camera warmed our hearts like a fresh cup of shade grown Columbian.
Ever wonder what happened to Juan and the donkey? Ever just stop and think to yourself "Hey, Juan Valdez. I wonder what he's up to these days?".
I'll tell you. Juan and Donkey have taken on Corporate coffee. No way? Way. I just had coffee with him at 42nd st. Well, not exactly with our humble day-laborer but with 12 of his closest friends and employees who were pumping out hot java faster than the Olsen twins can split a raisin for lunch.
Where you say? Oh, how about at Juan Valdez's Cafe Times Square. A humble little 4500 square foot shop with leather banquettes, track lighting and nine varieties of shade grown coffee. Place makes Starbucks look like a slum.
Yup. Juan Valdez is living the dream my friends and has his own chain to prove it. Guess Juan got tired of lugging those bean sacks up the hill. Or, those bean sacks contained something Columbian other than coffee. I mean, you gotta wonder how a guy Juan's age can lug beans+sacks+donkey up and down Columbian mountains all day. Hey, I've had Folgers--it ain't that strong.
Juan was what, 40 yrs old 20 years ago? Unless he was like, one of those kids who have a full facial hair before they hit 12. Went to school with a kid like that. 10 years old, four feet tall, mustache. Name was Fuad Furag. Arabic, I think. Every kid he met, asked "Where eees your sister!". Didn't matter if you had a sister or not, kid would hump a fruit basket.
So old/young Juan, backed by the National Federation of Coffee Growers of Colombia loaded up the truck and he moved to Bev-er-ly. Hills, that is--swimming pools, movie stars. Okay, there was no jingle that worked with "Midtown Manhattan".
So there I am. Watching a couple ladies sip their mango nevados, one of six frozen specialty drinks on the menu, thinking "Juan Valdez?! The American Dream? Where's my dream? I'm a good guy. Sure I don't have a donkey but I've carried bags of stuff up sharp inclines, too!".
Now I'm thinking where's my chain? And more importantly, is there even really a Juan Valdez? His silhouette decorates the interior, but I didn't see any old guy in a serape feeding his donkey $2.95 a pop brownie scraps reminiscing about the old days when he "...hand carry the bean up hill, but I do it for love, not money senior".
I mean, would the real Juan Valdez please stand up? Or is the American Dream, mainly...dream? Is it only so much froth, easily stuck to the side of one's lip while the over-heated content's of life's reality cup scalds us back to the truth that
Actually, what I was really thinking was "Goddamn, that's a good brownie. Not too moist, good balance of chocolate flavor underscored by the walnuts pieces...". But I meant to think, "Yeah what about the real backbone of this country?
Is there truly opportunity for those who are willing to work hard, do the right thing and live with just enough wealth to donate to charity and buy a Lexus while staying in a friendly tax bracket?".
I don't know, I just don't know. I hung around a while longer. Good coffee, btw. Didn't see any traces of Juan V or his trusted pack animal. On the way out I thought I heard a woman say "Did you hear? Donkey's getting his own reality show--he's in development with NBC".
That was all I needed to hear. Six months from now Donkey'll be on the Today show, sucking up to Matt Lauer. "Eee or, eeeor, eeeeoooor". Haha, Donkey you are one funny beast of burden and proof that hey, the American Dream can be hand-picked by anyone". Al, how's our weather today?".
Me, I'm headed back to Starbucks. Giant, soul-sucking dream crushing corporate black hole that it is. At least I know where they stand--world domination by 2010. Give or take a few cups.
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