Unfortunately, Linette has the parental controls set in such a way that it’s impossible me for me to do that, though.

So, instead, here’s video of me on the stage at Woodruff’s a few days ago, interviewing Annette “Bad Fairy” Weathers (Bona Sera Cafe), Eli Morrissey (The Rocket), Jesse Kranyak (Wurst Bar), and Darryl Daniels (Jacobsen Daniels Associates) about what it was that compelled them to start businesses in Ypsilanti, what advice they’d offer to other budding entrepreneurs, and where they see opportunities in the future. (I wouldn’t exactly call it titillating, but those of you who stick around until the end will be rewarded with a robust, multi-person defense of a certain local strip club.)

[Special thanks to Jeff Meyers and Paul Schutt at Concentrate Media for making this event happen, Roger Rayle for videotaping everything, Hasan Mihyar and the staff of Woodruff's for being such good hosts, and everyone who chose to spend their afternoon in the audience, instead of outside in the sunshine.]

This the second time in as many months that I’ve hosted one of these events for Concentrate, and, if it’s anywhere near as interesting as the last one, I think you’ll find it well worth your time… and not just because they folks from Concentrate are known to buy the occasional beer for audience members.

[Register Now]

MARK: Let’s start by talking ice cream… How’d you get into that particular line of work? And what makes your ice cream better than what’s currently available in Ypsilanti?

ROB: I’ve been making ice cream for a few years now. It was just kind of a hobby until enough people said, “If you sold this, I would buy truckloads.” My ice creams are all natural, use products I buy at the Co-op and other local places (when possible, and it’s almost always possible), and are made 6 quarts at a time, by hand. I’ve also perfected vegan ice cream, so our non-dairy friends can play along, too… Our mutual friends, Patti and Andy Claydon, have been dubbed my Ice Cream Bike Official Test Vegans… I’ll sell waffle bowls, and sauces, and other handmade accoutrements, too.

MARK: Is your plan eventually to have a storefront somewhere, or are you only interested in bike-service?

ROB: There’s no storefront presence planned for our immediate future. I figure that’s a way to keep the initial operating costs lower, and to make sure that there’s a market for the product before committing to a huge amount of overhead. I can already picture the store in my mind, though, and, of course, Patti, who designed the Go logo, already has idea for the interior design! The plan for now, though, is to sell pints and novelties (sorbet pops, etc.) from the bike, around town, at various events, and then also offer doorstep delivery through the website. We’ll also do birthday parties and other events, and we’ll hopefully be able to sell wholesale at places like the Co-Op, etc.

MARK: Why Ypsi?

ROB: Because I live here, and love it, and I really want to create a product that’s from Ypsilanti. I go out to places like Sidetrack, or Haab’s, or the Corner Brewery, or whatever, and I marvel at the way they’ve established a place that brings the community together, gives you a sense of place, and contributes to the personality of the community, you know? I want to create a place that you can bring friends to Ypsi to visit. I would love it if someone was making plans with friends and said, “Hey, why don’t you come to Ypsi, and we’ll go out to dinner, and then stop by the Go! Ice Cream bike.” The spirit of our town has had a huge impact on me personally, and I want to give something awesome back.

MARK: When did you move to Ypsi, and what were the circumstances around your coming here?

ROB: Immense pressure from Patti and Andy, actually. My wife and I were living in Whitmore Lake at the time, in a house I bought for dirt cheap in my early-20s, and had renovated in hopes of selling it high. We were ready to move somewhere that was a bit less sleepy, and Patti kept insisting we look in Ypsi. Honestly, we were a little afraid of it. We had only ever seen the shadier side of Ypsi, never come to town for any events, or gotten a feel for the community. We knew we didn’t want to live in Ann Arbor because it felt like no one knew their neighbors there, and it was expensive. And, as we looked at the other options, they were all kind of bland. None of them seemed to have any real sense of community, and no real diversity among the people living there. They just weren’t interesting, I guess, is what I am trying to say. So, Patti and Andy kept bringing us to Ypsi for dinner, and inviting us out to Haab’s for happy hour, and sending us real estate listings, and taking us to ElvisFest… and we just fell in love with how quirky and unique Ypsi is. The neighborhoods are quaint, and the houses are affordable, and we fell in love with it pretty hard… and we’ve never fallen out of love with it.

I didn’t know what it felt like to really love the town I live in before I moved to Ypsi. I always defined my sense of place by the house that I lived in, and not the community. Now, that equation is totally flipped.

To me, Ypsi really embraces the unique, and that has had a huge impact on me as a person. It’s really changed how I view myself and what I value. When a city helps you like that, it’s hard to know who to thank. I think that’s a big part of why I wanted to start a business in Ypsi, that says “Ypsi” on the label, that puts Ypsi first, as a way of giving something back to a place that has had, and continues to have, a really profound impact on me.

MARK: Do you see Go as just being a seasonal business?

ROB: I would love to operate year-round. I mean, for me, ice cream has no season. Also, winter always puts me in the mood for baked alaska, and other forms of flaming ice cream! Not that I’d recommend folks play with matches, or anything…

MARK: What flavors should we expect?

ROB: Three Bean Vanilla (featuring high-quality vanilla beans from Madagascar, Uganda and Tahiit), Peanut Butter Cookie Dough, Fresh Mint Cacao Nib (a play on mint chocolate chip, using fresh mint and cacao nibs, which, if you’ve never had them in an ice cream, become like the crunchiest, raddest chocolate chip you’ve ever had), Ypsi Pride Peppercorn (my homage to Ypsi.. it might sound a little weird at first, but once you go there, you can’t wait to go back), Chocolate Sorbet (vegan, dairy free, and approved by the Official Test Vegans), and Vegan Salted Caramel.

We’ll also have waffle bowls in all kinds of flavors, like oatmeal, graham cracker, buckwheat… And we’ll have Chocolate Awesome Shells, Peanut Butter Awesome Shells, and Choco Tacos (a waffle cone taco shell, dark chocolate ice cream, chocolate magic shell, cacao nibs, topped with cinnamon chocolate chipotle sea salt).

I got flavors for days. These are the first flavors that will be available through the website.

I should probably also add, I don’t want to be one of those places that offers up wacky sounding flavors just for the shock value. I want to offer people bold twists on flavors they know and love and then also give them some adventurous new flavors that really surprise and delight them. I once had a honey and roasted garlic ice cream that was just weird. It really offered nothing other than weirdness. It left me feeling flat and wondering why I gave that place five bucks. I never want any of my customers to feel that way.

MARK: How does one become an Official Test Vegan?

ROB: Really, I just have to know you and you have to be vegan. Pretty much everyone I know has gorged on my ice creams for the past year as I work on my technique. Also, there’s a secret handshake.

MARK: If you were given the task of making Vegan-flavored ice cream, how would you go about it? I can picture it in my mind being kind of an anemic pink color, like the “flesh” colored crayons of yesteryear, but I can’t imagine what “vegan” would taste like.

ROB: First I’d sacrifice three virgins. Not sure why. Really though, these are the questions that keep me awake at night. When Lara wants to play a cruel prank on me, she’ll say things like, “what flavor ice cream is President’s Day?” I know it is a joke, I laugh at it as such, and then I can’t not think about that, and only that, from then on. That’s just the brand of disturbed that I am. I figure it out eventually, too. But it takes it’s toll. I don’t yet know what ingredients would go in vegan-flavored ice cream, but I do know a meat grinder would be involved, just for irony. You can expect me to call you at 2:00 AM a few days from now. I’ll be the one shouting, “Eureka! The ingredients are…”

MARK: I imagine, in addition to showing up at local events over the summer, you’ll also try to establish firm hours at a set location or two, so that you can establish a regular clientele. Have you given any thought to where you might do that? Do you have a specific part of town in mind? A specific corner?

ROB: And yes, we are looking at what days we can schedule to show up at the Saturday Farmer’s Market in Depot Town. As for regular hours, or a specific part of town that we will frequent, I would love to do that, but I want to get a feel for how the brick and mortar businesses will react to someone else selling dessert on their doorstep. I’d love to cruise through various neighborhoods like an ice cream truck, too, if possible. We plan to have a schedule of our appearances on the website, and we’ll encourage the community to follow us on Twitter so we can update them on where we’ll be, and when. It’s sort of a model that food trucks around the country use. I anticipate the website and the home delivery really driving the bulk of the sales, with the on-bike vending serving almost more as advertising and a fun way to interact with the community.

MARK: I seem to recall seeing something not too long ago about a small-batch ice cream company outfitting a small truck, and selling amid food carts. Is that something that you considered before settling on the bike? If you did consider going the food cart route, why’d you settle on the bike?

ROB: The bike is an old Worksman Tricycle that used to carry foremen up and down the line in a GM plant in Wixom. That same company, Worksman, made the majority of the ice cream and hot dog carts in NYC in the early 1900′s. They are still in business, so I took the tool cabinet off the back of the bike, repainted it, added some chrome, a Worksman ice cream cabinet and an umbrella on the back of it. It’s almost finished, actually working on the last few bits of the renovation this week. So, I’ll use dry ice in the cabinet to keep it cold. It should last about 4 hours. We’ll see how it goes!

An ice cream truck is a far more practical choice from a business perspective. You can cover a larger area, it’s bigger, more visible, all kinds of stuff. But a) I love biking and, much like Kevin Costner felt compelled to build a baseball field, I can’t get the idea of selling ice cream off the back of a bike out of my head. And b) I firmly believe in moderation and balance. I’ve been a heavier dude most of my life, and for a number of years, until I discovered biking, and then learned to love running and working out. And ice cream was a big part of why I was heavier. I love ice cream, I make really great ice cream, but I would never want to sell ice cream in the way most companies sell ice cream. There are a lot of companies out there that wouldn’t be upset if you hooked yourself up to a feed tube of their sub-par, financially viable, moderately carcinogenic product and watched Dancing With the Stars into eternity. That’s why I named the company Go Ice Cream. I think it is important to really go for the things you love, the things you are passionate about. I’d rather espouse that, when someone wants dessert, they eat the best, tastiest, most satisfying dessert they can, and make room for it. I think we’re largely taught to be afraid of dessert. I really was. There were periods of time where I was really afraid to have any ice cream in fridge. I was so afraid that I would just tear into a pint in one mindless, frenzied blur. And, for big parts of my life, I did. Once I learned to embrace my love of ice cream, and to offset it, and fold it in to the rest of my life, ice cream no longer had that sway over me. I have roughly 12 quarts of ice cream in my freezer right now, and, while I know it is mind-bendingly awesome (especially the Irish Cream Ice Cream made with Bushmills and Dark Chocolate), I have no desire to dive-in face first and pull a Leaving Las Vegas style bender.

The bike is a part of all of that for me. Yeah, that’s a bit heavy for an ice cream company, and it’s a little weird to launch a product and say, “now, now… moderation!” But it’s important to me to put a great product out there, in a great city, with the best motivation. Does that make any sense at all?

MARK: Absolutely… Speaking of exercise, can you carry everything you need on the bike? By the time you load up all the shells, cones, ice pops, toppings and ice cream, I’ve got to think that it’ll be pretty heavy. Have you done a test run to see if it’s manageable?

ROB: It is SO heavy. My workouts have been really intense as I prepare for it. We live up near the water tower and I just keep picturing the ride up that hill on Cross. I plan to have bodybuilder thighs. Also, because it’s a trike, you don’t really get much leverage on the pedals like you can with two-wheeled bike by swinging it side to side. For places that are farther away, or when it will take too long to get there by trike, we have a trailer for the car and will just park in the vicinity. So, yeah, if you see a dude on a blue tricycle struggling up the hill on Cross this Summer, be a pal and pull your car in close so I can skitch off your bumper.

MARK: Have you taken any heat for desecrating our beloved historic water tower in your online graphics?

ROB: Ha!!! That’s funny. No, I actually haven’t. But I love the idea of online heat. Sounds so exciting. Would you like to dish up some heat, good sir? I think you’ll find that, despite the reputation, us ice cream men are pretty tough. Especially those of us with bodybuilder thighs.

MARK: I’m assuming, since you’re using premium ingredients, that your costs – even though you don’t have much overhead to speak of – are going to be somewhat higher than what folks in Ypsi might be accustomed to. Do you think the people of Ypsilanti are ready for pay for a quality alternative to Dairy Queen? Have you done any kind of market research to verify that, or do you just have a gut feeling, based on what you’re seeing, that now might be the right time for something like this?

ROB: This is all just gut feeling for me. This is looking around and seeing that more people are interested in a backstory with their food, a sense of connection, or of just knowing that Monsanto isn’t poisoning them for profit. It likely isn’t for everyone, but I think it could be. There is a lot about what is going on in food right now that I love, all the stuff in the previous sentence, basically, but there is a lot of preciousness that I think is unnecessary. I think people want food that is awesome, that’s fun, that’s convenient and that is produced with some ethics and humanity behind it. It’s really all just a big dice roll for me, but in the 18 months or so that it has taken me to develop this idea I have met with nothing but positivity and encouragement. Seriously. It has been overwhelming and so reassuring. It’s my hope that it continues in the future, too!

At this point it is all speculation and projection. I think I have come up with a production / distribution method where this is manageable. I think I have a product people will go crazy for. I think I have the savvy and the standards to ensure the best possible customer experience. I have made drinks with all those ingredients before, but I have never quite mixed this particular cocktail before.

As I mentioned, this started out as a hobby for me. I’m just fascinated by the science behind ice cream. It’s a really delicate balance of fats, proteins, sugars and other stuff. So, I just kept making it and tweaking little variables here and there, trying to figure out what made it tick. It got to the point where we would have 2 dozen pints of ice cream in the freezer, and it was encroaching on the space where we store the frozen veggies. I had to get rid of it. My wife and I work in a really fun office at U-M that has about 50 or so people in it, so I started taking it in there. I would send out an e-mail at 9:00 AM that there was ice cream in the freezer, and it would be gone well before noon. I thought they were being nice at first, and that people just love ice cream, but it kept happening. Day in and day out. Pretty soon I would have co-workers stopping me in the hallway to tell me how it reminded them of their childhoods and revealing far more about themselves than they ever had before. I would walk by the kitchen and find them with a spoon in their mouth, eyes closed, moaning. Seriously. Then folks started asking me if I could make bigger quantities and bring it to their parties and it just grew from there. Soon I started getting requests from people to sell it to them. I can’t do that legally, so I have had to turn down a lot of offers and ask people to just hold on until I can get it up and running.

MARK: Are there rules with regard to where you can set up? I know in Ann Arbor there are somewhat restrictive laws concerning where folks can set up food carts, but I imagine that bikes are a somewhat different story… At least I haven’t seen the guy who runs the Roos Roast bike getting hassled by the cops… But I’m not aware of any Ypsi legislation regarding such activities. Are there laws that pertain to what you hope to do? Are you restricted, for instance, from selling in public parks?

ROB: I am right in the middle of the teeming, tumultuous, arduous (wow, two words ending uous!) world of licensing right now. I am hoping to open relatively soon, but it all rides on other people doing things on time, something that doesn’t always happen. People in the community have been really helpful and supportive… I’ll actually be working out of Bona Sera’s kitchen, which is so awesome for me on so many levels because they were in my shoes prior to getting their brick and mortar thing going.

So far I have not had anyone tell me I can’t vend in certain areas. Basically, I will be licensed as a wholesale food processor through the state and then I will be licensed as a food vendor through whatever agency has jurisdiction over the area I want to vend in. I haven’t spoken to anyone in Ann Arbor yet, but the folks I have talked to at Washtenaw Health Department have been really encouraging and say that the process is pretty straightforward. I don’t want to piss off any restaurant owners by parking outside of their windows and drawing their customers away, so we’ll see. I am not exactly sure how one plays nice in that arena but I definitely want to collaborate rather than compete.

I have heard something about not selling parks, but it was just hearsay. I can let you know what I find out when I go in for the licensing at the end of May. If there is an event going on at the park, say Elvisfest, the vending is obviously overseen by the event organizers, but that’s about the extent of my knowledge. Who knows about just a random Saturday in the park? Man, I would love to bike through Riverside selling ice cream on a beautiful Saturday afternoon.

To my knowledge, the vending permit lets me vend wherever I like. I’ve heard tell that, and this make sense to me, it might piss some restaurants off if I do it in the wrong place. I don’t really know yet. I am really excited about selling at the Farmers Market, though, and that process seems really easy. You just pick the dates you want, apply, and pay the money. I am sure they review people to make sure you fit certain guidelines, but I haven’t gone through that process. The street vending part of the business is not really what I envision being the moneymaker for the company. Street vending for me is really more of a way to be more involved with the community, get to meet the customers and watch them take their first taste of our product and, really, advertise. I imagine the online business will be more lucrative and it is also less time-intensive. It’s really all speculation and projection at this point. I have focused on getting the least restrictive licensing (limited wholesale food processor) I can so that I can be flexible and meet the demands of the customers and take the business in the direction that presents itself.

MARK: Will you have employees, or will it just be you?

ROB: At first this will just be a one man operation. My wife, Lara, is helping out a ton with the back end stuff and social media and writing the text and stuff, but I really want to have first-hand experience with all parts of this as it starts up, even if that means I have to keep it smaller at first. I want to make sure that all of the ice cream is up to my personal standard, I want to make sure the customers ge the best experience, I want to make sure the communications through the website are top-notch. I just really want to make sure that I know what the customers want and I want to know firsthand that they are getting it. At some point I hope that I can grow it and trust others with that, but I want to know the business inside and out first.

MARK: Have you decided yet on how you’ll dress? Should we expect to see you in one of those white hats, like the old-timey ice cream men, or will be wearing a logo emblazoned bike helmet?

ROB: That was a big question. For a while I wanted to look like an old-timey soda jerk, but then that felt too precious. I ordered some custom bike jerseys that I’ll sell online and some mountain biking shorts with a padded butt. I do think I will have a custom logo on my helmet, although I have a helmet right now that is kinda reminscent of Evil Knievel’s helmet and I hate to put that on the shelf. There is definitely a little bit of showmanship with the costume. Oh, and I’ll have those fun little biking caps with the semi-circle brims that you can flip up, too. Actually, you’re supposed to wear a hat or hairnet when packagin commercial food products and I wear my biking hat for that. Just ‘cause I keeps it real 24/7.

MARK: Have you settled on pricing?

ROB: Yeah, I’m definitely in a different ballpark than DQ, but it’s also a much different product. For a pint of okay ice cream you pay $3 – $6, give or take. My pints will be $9. The flavors in my ice cream are so dialed up, though, that I think people will pay $9, probably eat smaller portions, and share it with folks. I can easily see a couple who is entertaining another couple getting a pint of my ice cream for dessert and splitting it between 4 people. It’s rich enough that you don’t need as much of it to feel like you really scratched that itch. I can imagine there are probably a lot of business folks who would yell at me to not entice people to consume less of my product, but I believe in giving people the highest quality, most flavorful experience I can, and I care about that far more than I care about moving units. Perhaps my fatal flaw is that I listened to Nevermind one too many times in high school.

That’s also just for pints. The price point for the novelties and things that I will sell off the bike for people to munch on while they walk around, that will be a lot lower. More in the $2-$5 range. If I am selling in a neighborhood, I want some kid to be able to buy a cool version of something they already know they want with whatever money they got from mowing the lawn or whatever, I don’t want to try and sell them on a $9 pint of Cardamom Honeycomb or something.

MARK: You mention trying to source things locally, and I was wondering if you’re working with a Michigan dairy.

ROB: Yes sir! This has been a big process for me. The problem is, when you are packing for mass distribution, the State dairy laws require you to have a pre-pasteurized mix of dairy, sugar, and thickening agent, bought in bulk, from an approved dairy processing plant. Every place I went had mixes they would sell, but all of them had this junk in it. Finally, I went to Zingerman’s Creamery and Josh, who is a wonderful, passionate dude, and makes all of their gelato, agreed to do a custom mix for me, using only ingredients I specified. The milk comes from Calder and Guernsey, just down the road, and I get the added bonus of having Josh, who is incredibly knowledgeable about ice cream and the ice cream business, in my corner as I get started. It was a tough search to find products that didn’t compromise my quality standards, but in the end I ended up getting more than I was even looking for.

MARK: So, when can we buy ice cream?

ROB: Late May or early June. The licensing process just takes longer and has more moving parts than I anticipated. I’m going to do a soft-launch in May, inviting friends to place orders through the website and then delivering to them as a way to work the kinks out of the distribution, and make sure we are ready to open our doors. And I want to have a big free ice cream social in Ypsi in early June to kick everything off. I’ll rent some space somewhere and have music and games and stuff and invite families out, and give everyone free ice cream. Doesn’t that sound like fun?

[You can follow the adventures of Rob and his ice cream bike on Facebook and Twitter.]

MARK: Let’s start by talking about your childhood. Unlike many of my exit interview subjects, you actually grew up in Ann Arbor…

NEWCOMBE: I was born here, yes, and went through the school system (Mack, Slauson, Pioneer), but my mother took me to India on extended sabbaticals every year through most of my primary school. So I also have a second hometown in Pune, which is about 150 km inland from Mumbai.

MARK: And your parents actually met at the Fleetwood Diner, right? Do you know the circumstances?

NEWCOMBE: My understanding of the story was that, at the time (somewhere around 1978 or ‘79), my father was working for the late Ned Duke (who owned Mr. Flood’s Party and Leopold Bloom’s, which were located where Grange and West End Grill are today) as a carpenter, bouncer, mechanic, basic jack-of-all trades. My mother, who had known of my father back when she was a waitress at the Gandy Dancer, was, at that point, trying to make it teaching yoga, while she was also tuning and restoring pianos. They apparently met while sitting on the two northernmost stools along the counter at the Fleetwood, when they were in their mid 20s. The marriage lasted a few years in a rented house on Plymouth road, which was razed to make way for a Wendy’s and a carwash (which are still there today). In 1984, my parents separated, and my mother rented her and me a small pink house on North Ashley, seven blocks away from the Fleetwood. For the past nine or so years, I’ve lived in an apartment on Liberty, a half block from the Fleetwood. So I guess, over the past three decades, I haven’t gone far from the late night hippy hash and associated last-call amorous intentions of my origin.

MARK: One of the themes you kept coming back to when I was interviewing you at the Concentrate event was craftsmanship, and your belief that there’s a resurgence in Ann Arbor of people who are thoughtfully making things with their hands, and taking pride in their work. Assuming this is the case, I’m wondering how it can continue, given the ever rising costs associated with living in the City…

NEWCOMBE: It’s a trend that is probably becoming more prevalent everywhere in the western world, post-economic downturn. What was once mass consumption of “design porn” in magazines and Gucci logos on our sticky mats has become a return to, and desire for, the authentic. And, from a business perspective, where there is desire, there are often growth opportunities to market to it. Brooklyn is full of young kids waiting in line for free-range organic brunches and insisting on only wearing denim that has a story. Portlandia makes fun of this trend well. It’s a cultural thing. I’m OK with being caught up with it because it speaks to my own intrinsic motivations.

You’re right, however, that it is still probably a luxury that few in Ann Arbor can afford given the cost of living and the reluctance in the market to pay more for something handcrafted. I’m seeing much more of it here though. Vellum, Mani, Last Word, Babo, Rock Paper Scissors, Mark’s Carts… I’m not sure if these businesses would have made it five years ago because, yes, the rents were higher, and, as a market, we wouldn’t have rewarded them with our business for their slightly higher prices and their uniqueness of offerings.

I remember while growing up my father had a hard go at his carpentry and my mother at her yoga. They still devoted their life to pursuing their craft, and I’m fortunate for being raised under that appreciation for skill and rigor… We could barely pay the bills, however, and for most of that time they had to work other jobs outside their craft to keep me clothed and fed. And that was even when Ann Arbor was more modestly affordable than today.

MARK: Speaking of affordability, you mentioned that your mother bought the home you were raised in for not too much, and that, if it were to sell today, 30 years later, it would likely sell for 6-7 times that, or more… which makes me wonder how life might have been different for you had you been born now. In other words, would you agree that Ann Arbor has become a less viable alternative for single mothers, families on the poverty line, etc? And, assuming you agree, what are the long term consequences of that shift?

NEWCOMBE: The unique circumstances of my upbringing are very much, I think, a function of Ann Arbor’s history over the past 30 years. It’s not likely a story that can, or should, be repeated in the same way, because my opportunities came with a lot of pain and lack of opportunities for others. Briarwood Mall opens in 1973 because that’s what we culturally wanted to have happen at the time. Also, at that time, if you were poor and/or black you could only often get mortgages in certain neighborhoods, like near North Ashley (now called “Waterhill”) and in Kerrytown. As an aside, I wish we were more honest with ourselves about these facts. Race continues to be something that has shaped most of Michigan for the past 100 years, and Ann Arbor was not immune.

So the mall, and racial steering, bottomed out most of our downtown in the 70s and 80s. They also created opportunities for poor, young 20-somethings to do things downtown, like open a small deli in Kerrytown (1982), a seafood restaurant on Main (1975), save and run a historic movie house (1982), and raise a kid as a single mother on modest means on North Ashley while studying yoga on the side (1984-1999).

We were poor, and we moved into a neighborhood that was cheap. It also happened to be in a neighborhood with a great school system that I could walk to, and a recovering downtown that was my playground. My life is forever changed because of that move of necessity. My childhood was full of art and knowledge and optimism. It made me appreciate a life that was full of possibility, rather than restriction. It made me ambitious. It made me not afraid to take risks.

If I had a child today and made what my mother raised me on, I likely couldn’t even afford to visit Ann Arbor on a weekend, let alone live downtown, and raise the child in the way that I was. The unique opportunity I had, I don’t think can happen again today for those in similar economic situations, without more market manipulation. I’m OK with this, by the way, and I wish we did more of it. I would just rather see us get there this time by subsidizing housing or commercial rents rather than by building more malls or racially steering people to certain neighborhoods.

I don’t know what the long-term consequences of the lack of affordable opportunities are. My guess is it means more people in Washtenaw County that are born into poverty will stay in poverty. They don’t get access to a good school system or access to cheap real estate to start businesses. This translates to more people in need and more money spent for long-term care and extended social benefits. Much more money over a much longer time than it would take to just build more affordable housing and maybe subsidize a dozen or so storefronts today.

MARK: There were two data points that you noted during our conversation that I’d like to have you share here. The first, as I recall, had to do with the greying of the Ann Arbor population. And the second concerned the number of downtown living units that we’d have once all of the construction projects currently underway were completed. Would you mind repeating those here for our readers?

NEWCOMBE: The concentration of 20-35 year olds in Washtenaw County (excluding students, who are not polled as residents) in 1980 (the year I was born) was roughly 50%. When I last checked (2010) they made up less than 7% of the population. Now, it’s not necessarily the case that we have fewer total young people. That number has actually ticked up a few. Rather it’s that while, over the last 30 years, the overall population of Washtenaw doubled, the same demographic balance wasn’t maintained. The net result is that a town that was once balanced, if not dominated (at least from a voting block and commercial market standpoint) by the young, is now overweighed towards the old. Many towns in America have similar demographics today. And, it’s worth noting, none of these towns are doing well today. There’s quite a bit of research on why this is, but most of it boils down to this – cities with lots of young people, who have lots of extra time to work and money to spend, tend to do better.

Growth… and frankly, in America today, if you’re not growing, you’re suffering… has been shown to be only possible with lots of young people of working age and ambition. Technology, being borderless, isn’t a driving factor economically. It’s pure math – when you’re young, you can be more mobile, and you can more easily move to cities that give you the opportunities you require. You take your money and your labor with you to these places. Other demographic groups, with less disposable means, tend to benefit from this migration if it goes towards them. They tend to suffer as it flows elsewhere.

I’m not advocating replacing any older citizen with someone who’s been around the sun less. I’m saying, however, there are consequences for all ages if so little of your total population is 20 to 35 years old.

The other statistic I mentioned was about beds in the DDA boundary, which is what most people consider the measurable boundary of our downtown. Just in the last four to six years alone, that number has gone up close to 7x or 8x. It’s gone from a number around 600 or so, back when we started counting, to approximately 4850 today. And that’s not even including the projects currently under construction. That kind of shift in density in such a small area can have dramatic consequences. Some of these consequences will be quite positive, some perhaps negative. It depends on your viewpoint, I suppose.

Regardless of what happens, fighting change in our downtown is a lost battle. We’re already in the new reality. One or two new buildings, whether they house students, and student-aged people, or not, is not going to reverse what has already changed. Even a half dozen more buildings won’t have the same factor of increase as we’ve seen through the last half-decade – a period, I might add, where most cities in the world, let alone in Michigan, couldn’t pay people to invest in the same way. We’ve been lucky.

MARK: I don’t want to put words in your mouth, but I think it’s safe to say that you don’t count yourself among those who bemoan the loss of “old Ann Arbor,” at least when it comes to retail. Is that correct? (Bonus points if, in your response, you explain why it is that Shaman Drum’s transition into a Five Guys franchise is a good thing for the city.)

NEWCOMBE: “Old Ann Arbor” may never have existed, at least not in the form people seem so bent on protecting. The reason nostalgia is often effective as an influence tactic (i.e. marketing strategy) is perhaps because it is often free of hard truths. It’s an idealized version of history and we’re often cognitively too lazy or ashamed to be honest about what actually happened.

Records are a little spotty, but I think the truth is that “Old Ann Arbor” was bought from the Federal Government for about $800 in 1824 by land speculators (i.e. ‘out of town developers’) who kicked out the local Ojibwa. “Old Ann Arbor” was a small village full of poor German immigrants living mainly below the floodplain in shoddily built Sears Roebuck ‘kit’ houses. We were too far from Detroit to be wealthy. (Ironically, Ypsi was the wealth barrier back then too. It was just reversed.) And we were too uneducated to better our circumstances much beyond plowing earth and brewing beer. Our landlords and landowners were wealthy people of British descent, happy to take our rent, but not too excited about increasing our cultural or educational prospects.

Then, in the early 1830s, another group of land speculators cobbled together around 40 acres to the East of the Village of Ann Arbor to try and win the bid for the new state capital. But, when Michigan became a State in January 1837, Lansing became our capital, and those profit-driven speculators sold the land to the State so that they could move the University of Michigan from Detroit. And. Boom. Economic Development. ‘Historic’ houses were razed for bigger houses or apartment buildings (i.e. student housing).

The Irish, Greeks, and Italians smelled the money and came to town wanting to make a life and a living, much to the dismay of the Germans and the Brits over the loss of “Old Ann Arbor”.

Repeat the story over 4 or 5 generations and, then, in the 1960s and 70s, the young and the liberal (my parents), pissed off over Vietnam and other justifiable grievances, move to Ann Arbor to make a life and a living…. much to the dismay of their parents over the loss of “Old Ann Arbor”. And so on, and so on…

What we see today, with all of the anger and frustration on both sides, is regrettable, but it is nothing new. Even the arguments are rehashed. You could probably do a Mad Libs of an old City Council meeting transcript over a controversial project, or an op-ed over the loss of another retailer. Just swap out the names of the projects and the storefronts, and move those that were on the one side 30 years ago to the other today.

As for Five Guys, I’m not a customer myself, but if they offer a good product and do a good job, I’m happy they’ve decided to invest here. If that changes, we’ll get someone new. If Shaman Drum had closed down in any other city in Michigan at the time they would have likely been replaced with an empty storefront.

MARK: In my case, I’d like to think it’s more than just nostalgia. Maybe it’s that I spent so much time in the American Culture program here at U-M, but I fear that we lose something as a culture when we see these big, sweeping changes. And, yes, I appreciate your point about how this is nothing new, but it still pains me to see the record store were Iggy Pop once worked turned into a sub sandwich shop. And, before you say it, yes, I realize that Discount Records was a chain, but, still, I get the feeling that we’re allowing our history to melt away… that we’re trading our communal history for a fast buck. And, once gone, it’s not an easy thing to get back.

NEWCOMBE: I absolutely agree. My guess is that the chain that closed down Discount Records to drive traffic to their new Big Box store south of town would also agree with you today, given how things worked out for them. Same with a certain shuttered national bookstore chain.

When digital changed everything, stores with smaller footprints and knowledgeable staff have resurged as perhaps the only profitable way to deliver content through brick and mortar storefronts. Curation is difficult to commoditize, and a very effective business strategy. And if you or I want to save the culture we think we’re losing, or have lost, spend your money at Literati and Encore rather than online with the river people. We’ve already stopped spending it at Big Box and Borders, mainly out of convenience and price. History, it would seem, is often cheap to evoke, but rarely cheap to protect.

We can blame landlords for killing our downtown, or we can take a look in the mirror, be honest with ourselves, and maybe give the UPS man a break for a week or two… or perhaps even more, honestly. We can stop stealing people’s work online without paying for it at all. Words alone don’t pay the bills. Speak with your wallet. And go shop at places you find value in.

MARK: In your defence of Ann Arbor retail during the Concentrate event, you mentioned the fact that we still have independent stores, like Vault of Midnight, downtown. In the case of Vault of Midnight, though, they have a landlord that buys into their vision, and has priced the space in such a way as to make the store viable. My sense is that those kinds of landlords, who are willing to restrain themselves in a market where that sub sandwich place is on a corner where rents are as high as $60 a square foot, are going to become increasingly more rare. Would you agree?

NEWCOMBE: Over a long enough timeline, vacant storefronts are often always more expensive than maximizing rent with new tenants. Some landlords, and some tenants for that matter, don’t always realize this, or can’t, given their capital structure.

That’s still no excuse for not engaging in best practices as a tenant. Vault has spent a lot of time getting really good at what they do. That’s why they’re successful, not because of their, perhaps lower-than-market, rent. I dropped a ton there last week for product I can just put in my queue for free at the library a few blocks away. Again, they offer not only a product, they offer a service, and a sense of community. I’ll be a customer for life because Curtis will gladly debate Batman’s motivations with me at length. The online river company just tells me what more I should buy. At the library, it’s free, but I’m left to my own poor taste and advice. No thanks.

It depends on what you sell, but to be a sustainable and viable business, real estate expenses should rarely run you more than a ¼ of your revenue. For a low margin business like comic books, it should be lower, much lower. Yes, we as a community could help on subsidizing rent, but, in the meantime, shame on you and your landlord if you’ve thrown best practices out the window and signed a lease at a rent your business can’t afford, even at your most successful.

If you do need some help understanding your numbers and your real estate, make the investment and hire someone who knows what they’re doing, and ideally not someone that is paid more when you spend more. This is why people are mistrustful of real estate professionals, and I understand that. But still, if people stop signing leases at high rents, rents will fall. The fault is communal on this one in my mind.

MARK: In discussing your decision to move, I think you may have offended a few people when you said that people in Ann Arbor don’t have to strive for “excellence”. You said, and I’m obviously paraphrasing here, that you wanted to live in a city, for a change, where only the strong survive, where there are people who you could really learn from. By way of contrast, you painted a portrait of Ann Arbor, where no one excelled because essentially everyone works for the University, and doesn’t have to worry about competition, or where their next meal is coming from. While I appreciate your candor, I was wondering if you might want to modify the statement any, given the fact that you yourself claim to have a great many mentors here in Ann Arbor, who, I would think, would like to believe that they strive to be excellent in their fields.

NEWCOMBE: Always appreciate the opportunity to remove foot from mouth. My comment was not that we don’t have people here that are excellent, it is that I don’t feel we have a density of people here that are required to strive for excellence in order to survive. Trying to be excellent is a lifelong pursuit in my mind. It’s hard, uncomfortable, stressful, and lonely. People rarely reward you for your efforts. Unless you cannot help yourself, why would you choose that lifestyle if you don’t have to?

For this next phase in my life, I want to be pushed harder by more people in more ways than I think Ann Arbor has the density of experts to do currently. Sure, I could just do it myself without external motivation, but I think, if we’re all being honest, we rarely push ourselves ahead and above unless we feel we have to.

Bannister broke the 4-minute mile only with multiple fresh sprinters on the track to race against. In other cities, more people are either forced to improve by competition (like New York, London, San Francisco) or by ingrained social and cultural norms (Tokyo, Seoul, Paris). Ann Arbor is obviously not a big city like those that I mention… but there’s no reason we can’t all more collectively try to push one another to be better every day… no reason other than the fact that we don’t have to. I’ve been so incredibly fortunate to have mentors in my life, and in this town, that are striving for excellence every day. I just haven’t been able to find a density here moving forward… but I think that’s changing, as I mentioned prior. It will just take time, and I want to selfishly spend the next 30 years of my productive working life being pushed and pulled to be better by many others, rather than finding the strength to do it alone.

MARK: For what it’s worth, having lived in LA and DC, and spent quite a bit of time in New York, I can tell you that not everyone in the cities strives for excellence. I’ll give you that, because of their significantly larger populations, there’s a greater population of individuals doing inspiring work, but I think the notion that everyone there wakes up determined to push the envelope in incredible ways, as I think you suggested during our interview for Concentrate, is overstating it a bit.

NEWCOMBE: Absolutely. It’s not everyone in any market, but I think it’s a higher density in certain places, and in certain fields. Especially (I hope) in the particular city and profession I’ll be in. I don’t want to put words in your mouth but you’re kind of making my point if you’re saying that only big cities can get the best because they’re big. They’re big, perhaps, because they have the best. They continue to attract the best because they’re big. So, and not to create a paradox here, but if you claim to be excellent in a city which is densely excellent, you are therefor not in a small city. If you are in a small city, you’re then therefore, not excellent. This I don’t believe to be true necessarily, but I do believe that I’m not alone in being attracted to the presence and possibility of excellence. This attraction grows cities. If Ann Arbor was full of excellent people, you couldn’t stop the growth. Incredibly smart and ambitious people would claw their way to be here, growing our city exponentially… and yet our population growth is tepid, if not stagnant.

If, say, in one of the big cities we mentioned above, there is a generous estimation that 4 of 10 push themselves towards excellence over a meaningful period, those that don’t may get selected out over a year or two.

Not all those that move back to Michigan do so just because family is a big draw. I don’t know a lot of people my age or older who quit highly successful, meaningful careers to return home by choice. If returning to Ann Arbor meant the same level of competition and rigor, I’m not sure they would rush back. This is anecdotal, but many of those I know that have come back from my generation find it a much easier time here… and they’re not all terribly proud or satisfied about being back so soon to a life that is less challenging.

Life in Ann Arbor is fantastic. I want to be very clear about that. I’m not sure however that I will achieve the level of rigor and excellence I want for myself if I stay through the next period of my live. I’m rather certain, however, I’ll have a better shot if I do it in a professional and social environment that puts more of a requirement on it. Again, this is not a size thing for me. Small cities have always been my preference personally. I’m just trapped in a paradox of wanting to believe we’re ALL smart and excellent in Ann Arbor, but not having the logical justification to back that claim.

MARK: How do you respond to those who would say that you should stay and fight to make this community a better place, instead of leaving for a community where things are already somewhat established? Which I think goes back to your point about excellence. How do we build a culture of excellence, when those who care about such things are always leaving.

NEWCOMBE: My point above. I can spend the next 30 years fighting here, sure. A quick web search will show I did spend the last 10 year fighting for the things I think we need. All I can say is the prospect of always being the first through the door can leave you exhausted and full of bullet holes. This City wants to be better, it just doesn’t always want anybody to do it. Because better means different, and different means change, and change is scary, when the here and now isn’t all that bad.

We’ve lost dozens of fighters over the past six years. You’ve interviewed a lot of them. People much smarter, harder working, and more likable than me. They’ve gone to cities that don’t want or need them to fight to improve their surroundings. And, as much as they loved Ann Arbor, and as hard as they fought to make her better, they are much happier not having to fight for a while.

MARK: As many of my readers know, you waged an unsuccessful independent bid for Ann Arbor City Council not too long ago. I’m curious as to how your view of the city, and its inhabitants, changed as a result of this experience.

NEWCOMBE: My view has changed for the better, absolutely. I had some very particular goals I wanted to accomplish with my campaign — being elected and serving my term was only one of them… and not very high on my list, if I’m being honest. Also, I don’t know who said it, but I believe in the wisdom of the old saying that everyone should run for office at least once in their life.

I’m much more aware of my own impatience at times after the run. And, subsequently, I’m much more able to understand when it can be an effective or harmful influence. I got a lot of great advice from very smart people during the campaign. The one thing that stuck with me most was that, at any given time, there is a limited range of possibilities of what people will tolerate. You can’t change too much too fast and get ahead of the voters, nor can you do too little too slow and fall behind the curve. To be successful in the long term (and/or to avoid being tossed out of office) you need to stay in that range and avoid pushing the margins too much. If, however, you want to widen the margins, you can, but you will likely fall on your sword for doing so. The question posed to me by this particular mentor was, “Which result are you trying to create?”

I suppose, at the time, I wanted to push the margins wider more than I wanted a successful political career. If I ended up doing that, and in some ways I think I did, I’m happy with the outcome. There was certainly a price to pay for it. As such, I realize now that it was a choice I made rather than one that was forced on me out of fiduciary to boards or clients of mine or necessity of my circumstances. I’ve always loved Ann Arbor and her citizens. Post-election, I also now have much less judgmental blame or doubt in our collective actions and abilities. We, in this community at any given point, have a collective margin of tolerance. If any of us don’t like this margin, we each have a choice: push it, or move. That’s on us individually, and is not Ann Arbor’s fault. “I love you, now change,” isn’t fair to anyone. And knowing that is different for me now, post campaign.

MARK: Speaking of politics, did Michigan politics play a role in your decision? Or, to put it another way, is it easier to leave a state that’s doing things like forcing through anti-union “right to work” legislation, defunding Planned Parenthood, stripping domestic partner benefits from gay state employees, seeking to protect healthcare workers who don’t want to serve gay patients, instituting Emergency Managers, and the like?

NEWCOMBE: I’m not happy about any of the above. I am very much my parent’s son after all. There isn’t, however, a state that I know of that gets everything right for me. If I had a goal for Michigan, I would like us to just shoot for the middle for a few years. Being best in education will take incredible investment and likely sacrifices we don’t want to make short term. As would being “first” in weakening the Unions. Michigan as a state is probably far from where I would want us to be long term personally. But I don’t own property, don’t have kids, and I’m a young and healthy, well-educated white man. Personally, I’m not terribly at risk from backward political thinking anytime soon. It’s convenient for me to shake my head at some of what comes out of Lansing that I hear on the radio each morning, but it doesn’t really affect me yet. This will likely change as my situation does, but it isn’t enough to compel me to move or stay at this point. I could do more, sure, but again, I’m not in the fighting mood for the next 30 years.

MARK: As you mentioned at the Concentrate event, Ann Arbor is already changing as a result of the increasing density downtown. You noted, for instance, that Babo likely wouldn’t have been possible even a few short years ago. Given that you made your living as a commercial real estate broker prior to going back to U-M for your MBA, I’m wondering if you have thoughts as to other opportunities that might arise as a result of this increasing downtown population.

NEWCOMBE: Ironically, the things most people say they miss downtown (e.g. bookstores, markets, even a soda fountain here or there) are more possible with more density. To return to the past, we have to allow the change to the future. As I mentioned, the global reality of a free market is that to even maintain, let alone thrive, you have to grow. If you just absolutely hate the idea of a half dozen towers full of college students, try and remember that the U isn’t growing that quickly in terms of student population; in fact, some colleges and schools in the system are shrinking to maintain rankings and competitiveness. Stagnant or shrinking overall student population and more student housing on less land downtown means that those red-cupped partiers are going to be sucked out of the neighborhoods.

This can create more pressure for landlords to improve the existing housing stock and/or lower rent. If they don’t, they’ll have to sell it to others at a discount, thereby creating opportunities for young families and/or people of more modest means to move close to downtown. You want to create more affordable housing and not use tax dollars to do it, allow more dense housing to be built. It’s a net win for everyone as I see it. Stronger neighborhoods, more diverse downtown shopping and service options, less use of city services per capita—It’s a total win… unless, of course, you own existing student rentals and/or live directly next to these new buildings… which most of those protesting actually check both boxes off on.

MARK: If you had to do it all over again, would you have used your time here differently?

NEWCOMBE: Yes. I would have gotten rid of my car ten years ago. Best decision of my life. I’ll never live or work anywhere that can’t affordably and reliable get me to the office, a gym, a market, the airport, and the train station without public transportation ever again. Ann Arbor transportation isn’t perfect, but it’s by far the best in the Michigan in providing this. I waited way too long to get rid of my car. Other than that, I’ve had an incredibly blessed life here. I am equally thankful for all the mistakes and failures I’ve made along the way as I am for the successes. I wouldn’t change a thing… other than getting rid of the car.

MARK: I have no idea how old this footage of you talking about how Ann Arbor is a microcosm of Portland and Rotterdam is, but I’m wondering how you might state things differently, if interviewed today.

NEWCOMBE: That footage is about three or four years old, I think. Part of a Public Broadcasting series on what’s great about cities in Michigan. I think it’s called Under the Radar. Great, positive show and worth checking out.

The interview was right before I started B-School, which ultimately was the beginning of what is pulling me out of Michigan now. I’ve spent most of my young professional life working hard, and being optimistic about how great Michigan and Ann Arbor is, and could be. My efforts had the knock-on effect of also getting me a lot of attention and accolades. That attention, along with the hard work, and a ton of luck, allowed me to be professionally successful in my previous real estate and consulting career.

I perhaps cashed in too much of that social and political capital when I “pushed the margins” with my development projects, and the campaign. My messaging, however, has stayed pretty consistent throughout, and I stand by that clip. Truth is, I’ve now got this really expensive degree and a great opportunity to test it. That opportunity, and ones like it, is not yet unfortunately in Michigan in abundance. Signs look rosy that there will be more to come in the future, and I look forward to seeing how that will play out. It will then just likely be an older me in the stands, excited for the those that are stepping up to the plate… rather than me standing there myself to swing at bat.

MARK: What would the ideal job be for Newcombe Clark?

NEWCOMBE: I, of course, have high hopes my new job will be satisfying in all the ways I’ve outlined in this interview. I care deeply about how people interact with their social environment. I’m curious about why we make the decisions we do. What we spend our time and money on, where we go to spend it, and why. This, in the past, included focusing on place-making through real estate and community and arts involvement. Moving forward with my career there will likely be more of a focus on building international businesses and brands through product and service innovation and other related growth strategies.

In more plain speak perhaps, I like solving puzzles more than I like solving problems. My new firm works with clients that are trying to find ways to grow and better service their customers through what they sell and how. Other firms I considered (and quickly eliminated as a poor fit) are more often tasked with coming up with solutions to crisis or hardship. Downsizing and the like. That’s not for me. You may be the best surgeon in the world, but that rarely means people will call you up and say, “Hey Doc, feeling great. Can you cut me open?” It’s certainly noble work to heal what’s sick and fix what’s broken. Emotionally, however, I don’t want to apply whatever skill I may have to being around pain all the time.

Now, if for some reason this new job isn’t everything I hope it’s going to be (or if I’m not everything they’re hoping I am), I’ll have to reassess. I think however there will be a consistent intrinsic motivation to continue to develop a craft. It’s how my parents raised me, and it’s something that I value. As such, it doesn’t much matter what the job is, or what I make doing it, as long as I can meaningfully apply myself everyday to getting better at what I do, and how I do it. This, to me, is how I can regard myself with honor and live a life of purpose and meaning.

MARK: What are the odds that you’ll be back?

NEWCOMBE: I suspect that once I cut anchor I won’t necessarily call any particular place home again as much as I did Ann Arbor. The life I currently want and envision myself leading is a bit less tied to any particular geography or culture. To do well at my chosen profession I don’t think it can be. But, I’m still just 32 and I could be back in six months. The only thing I know for certain at this age is that what I still don’t know vastly outweighs the little I do.

[For your further enjoyment: Here are links to video of my live exit interview with Newcombe, and the MarkMaynard.com exit interview archive.]

I quarel with my friend Pete about these matters frequently. We sit together over lunch – me bemoaning the creeping spread of corporate homogeneity across the American landscape, and him defending the ubiquitous presence of national chains, arguing that they’re more efficient, and often treat their employees better than their locally-owned competitors. For the past several years, these heated discussions of ours have taken place over a table at Mahek, a small Indian restaurant in Ann Arbor that we’re both quite fond of. When we met to eat there a few days ago, though, we found that it too had closed – the most recent casualty in a war on authentic, non-commoditizable, non-scalable American culture. In the case of Mahek, it doesn’t look as though its building is going to be taken over by yet another Starbucks or 7-Eleven, as it was purchased by local restauranteur Sava Lelcaj, but that doesn’t seem to be the norm these days, as downtown rents continue to climb beyond the reach of local entrepreneurs who don’t have national chains behind them. No, most of the time we hear about this kind of turnover happening, it’s something like a Five Guys franchise moving into the shell of Ann Arbor’s beloved local book store Shaman Drum.

Before we move on, I should acknowledge that Discount Records was itself a chain, and that Potbelly, despite its non-local ownership, likely pays its people better than some local restaurants, and at least professes to care about the environment and the communities in which it operates its 200+ identical stores. So, yes, these are complex issues, which don’t lend themselves easily to the black and white thinking we all love so much. This, of course, is something that many of us heatedly discussed recently in the thread that emerged from my interview with local entrepreneurs Jean Henry, Lisa Waud and Helen Harding, the founders of the local entrepreneurial support group Small & Mighty.

In the past several weeks, we’ve learned not only that Mahek was closing, but also that Blimpy Burger, Eastern Accents and the Herb David Guitar Studio would be going out of business. And, before this most recent round, it was White Market, which closed this past summer, after over 8o years in business. The building now houses franchises of both Florida-based Firehouse Subs and Wisconsin-based Toppers Pizza.

But, maybe there’s hope. Maybe, in time, the pendulum will swing back the other way, as it has in Ypsilanti, where unsuccessful chains have a tendency to be taken over by small and scrappy independent businesses… Our our local prepared food CSA, Harvest Kitchen, is in a former Qiznos. Our local Thai restaurant, Tuptim, is in a former Long John Silvers. The Blue Wolf Grill, which just recently opened on Washtenaw, is inside the shell of a former Taco Bell. Pacific Beach Burrito, before it closed, was in a former A&W. And Pita Pita exists where a Dunkin’ Donuts once stood. I take some comfort in that… in knowing that something better, and more authentic, might be waiting in Ann Arbor’s future. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

…What I find more surprising, and disturbing, is the tendency of some folks on the left to embrace small business with some passion. This is particularly true in the unfortunately named anti-globalization movement—as if internationalization itself were the problem rather than the way it’s carried out. Their anti-globalism is connected to a desire to “relocalize” economies, and with them to reorient production on a much smaller scale. These aims seem more motivated by nostalgia—and, in many cases, by a nostalgia for something that never existed—than any serious analysis.

Larger firms are also far more productive than smaller ones. Small-is-beautiful advocates rarely tell us how tiny enterprises would produce locomotives, computers or telephones; maybe they’d prefer to do away with these things and revive a hunter–gatherer society. But if that’s what they intend to do they should tell us.

And people who presumably care about workers should also rethink their passion for tininess: the experience of actually existing small businesses show that they’re not great employers, with poor pay, cheesier benefits and more dangerous workplaces. Bigger firms are easier to regulate, more open to public scrutiny, friendlier to affirmative action programs and more vulnerable to union organizing.

A progressive case for bigness is rare and unpopular these days, but somebody has to make it.

First, let me start by saying that I agree that, just because a company is locally-owned, does not mean that it’s necessarily good. I haven’t said that in the past, as I thought that it was pretty obvious, but perhaps it’s something that I need to be more explicit about. I’m painfully aware that there are assholes who run local businesses, abuse employees and add little value to the communities in which they operate. (Like many of you, I’ve had the pleasure of working for some of these folks.) Second, if you scroll back through the archives, you’ll also find instances where, on several occasions, I’ve said positive things about large companies, like Costco – a company, which, by all accounts, treats its employees well, and strives to ensure that its suppliers do the same. (If I’m not mistaken, I’ve also expressed in the past that I’m torn on the subject of Starbucks, as I hate the homogeneity they bring to communities, but respect the fact that they provide insurance to part-time workers, champion gay rights, etc.)

So, let’s start by dropping the false notion, as KJC would suggest, that I believe that all big companies are evil, and all small ones are terrific. I may be idealistic, but I’m not naive. I can appreciate that we live in a complex world and that the issues that we’re facing are far from black and white. At the same time, though, I have no reason to think that Michael Shuman is lying when he says that he’s never seen an academic study that’s shown that a chain business, with out-of-state ownership, has contributed more wealth to a local community than a comparable business whose owners are rooted in the community. So, yes, I believe that, all things being equal, I’d rather do business with entrepreneurs who live in our community, and have to face us each and every day, than with their corporate counterparts, who just see Ypsilanti as a line on a spreadsheet, and don’t know the names of those people they employ in our community.

I know that some of the jobs that these small businesses create aren’t ideal. I know that, with regard to the food service industry in particular, it can be poorly-paying, grueling work, often without insurance. I can very well remember, for instance, busting my foot, and having to hop around the kitchen that I worked in for several weeks, in pain, as I was unable to see a doctor. Still, though, I think I was better off at the time working for Seva, than I would have been working for McDonalds… I could go on, but I think that Jean Henry, one of the founders of Small & Mighty, does a better job than I could. Here’s how she responded to KJC.

First I would say (as an employee of Zingerman’s) that, in comparison to WalMart and McDonald’s, at any level (other than maybe top) of the organization, staff at Zingerman’s are doing far better in terms of wage, benefits, engagement and employee satisfaction than the aternatives. There are national businesses (Costco for example) that do better than we do in terms of wage scale, but I can’t think of any totally situated in the food business like we are. And we are working on it very very actively. Industrial production in the food business has created a system in which consumers pay very little (relative to in the past and as a percentage of income) for food – and we waste an average of 30%+ of that – and no one in the supply chain is making a reasonable living (except the giants) and, yes, it’s all at risk. In food, the better the integrity of your product and service, the lower your profit margin — even at Zingerman’s prices.

Less established small businesses than Zingerman’s are in much the same economic position as their staff – they struggle to survive in an economic structure that is marshaled against their interests. (They can’t afford the rent, the bills or health insurance either in many cases.) There is plenty of evidence of this. There is also plenty of evidence, contrary to the posted article, that small businesses create more sustainable jobs than the big ‘C’ corporations. But, yes, they often do so at a lower wage base, and almost always with fewer benefits, because they are not as profitable.

The capital in this country does not flow towards its most efficient and productive engines – small businesses. Small businesses give back more generously to their local communities. Of $1 spent at a local independent business, 68 cents stays in the community vs. 43 cents at a national chain store. In independent retail and restaurants the differential is higher. (More info can be found at the BALLE website.) Small independent businesses should also offer better product, service and experience than a chain store. In the end, no one is asking anyone to support local business as a charity. They should provide value. But I would ask you to consider the fabric of your community without them.

The best small business owners risk everything and walk a financial tightrope daily in order to make their vision a reality, because they love what they do and where they do it. They struggle along with their staff in a shared boat in the rough seas of the current economic structure. It is no mistake that the Occupy movement identified with small business owners as part of the 99%… And as part of the solution. If you would like small businesses to be able to pay higher wages then you must be prepared to pay more for their services, or work to invert the current systemic bias toward big and bad.

I try to pay with cash at local businesses doing good work in order to give them more capital to invest in their business, staff and the local economy. Doing so saves them about 4% in credit/debit card fees on each transaction (likely doubling their profit margin) and doesn’t feed into the predatory national banking system. It also keeps me on budget. Do what you can. Think about the big picture. And ask staff at local businesses how they like working there and why they, in many cases, resist working elsewhere for more money. Their answers will often be very close to their bosses answer to “why were you so crazy as to go out on your own?” For many many happy, thriving but often broke people out there, it’s worth it.

So, where do you stand on all of this?

[note: The image at the top of the page is from You've Got Mail, the not-so-good 1998 remake of 1940's The Shop Around the Corner, in which Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan fall in love, despite the fact that Hanks runs an enormous bookstore chain which threatens to put Ryan's lovely little book shop out of business... Sorry, but I couldn't think of better image to illustrate this post.]

MARK: Perhaps, to start, you could tell us a little about how you came to launch the original Vault of Midnight? What made you decide to open a comic book shop in Ann Arbor? Was it just that you loved comics, and didn’t want to do anything else, or was there also a sense that there was a niche that wasn’t being filled? How much, in other words, was blind love, and how much was shrewd business acumen?

CURTIS: I was in the restaurant business about five years and had a fair amount of success. I was opening new locations and training staff for Morrison Restaurants, the company behind Ruby Tuesdays. I was also a lifelong comic book/action figure/video game/movie super nerd. So I knew a little bit about business and a lot about comics. I started thinking seriously about a store in 1993, after the repeated nudgings of several friends. I started putting together a notebook filled with logo ideas and drawings about what the store might look like, what comic books and toys we might sell. It’s important to mention that right from the beginning my lifelong friend Steve Fodale and my wife Elizabeth Sullivan were there helping/slaving away. After a year or so of talking with suppliers, and bumming a couple grand from friends and family, we were ready. (Sullivan laughs.) We found/lucked into a strange spot at 322 South Ashley, a couple of buildings down from the Fleetwood Diner. At the time, there were a few comic book shops in town. Dave’s was on the corner of State Street, by William, and Underworld was on South University. Fun-4-All, Hobby Town and Labyrinth comics have all come and gone in downtown Ann Arbor since then. That said, we thought we could offer comics and toys that other stores did not… more independent, lesser known items… and make our place that way. So, mostly blind love, and maybe the tiniest crumb of business acumen.

MARK: Did you know people who owned stores downtown? Had you worked in retail at all? If not, how in the hell did you learn how to run a store? Was it all trial and error, or did you get advice along the way, from other store owners in Ann Arbor, or from the owners of comic book stores in other parts of the country?

CURTIS: I’d spoken to other comic shop owners and managers about my desire to open my own store. Most blew me off, probably because I was 18. Joe, the manager at Dave’s Comics, told me to order what I really liked, and I took that to mean that I should let my tastes and personality set the tone. I’d never worked retail prior to having my own store. I totally learned how to run a store on the fly, but working 10-12 hours a day, 7 days a week definitely helped.

MARK: Prior to opening Vault of Midnight, where did you go to buy comics?

CURTIS: The first comic shop I remember going into was the legendary Eye of Agamotto on State Street. Named after Doctor Strange’s amulet, and run by one of the coolest/smartest/nicest dudes I’ve ever met, Norm Harris. It’s highly likely that it’s his fault that Vault of Midnight is here at all. After the Eye closed in 1986… I think… I’d shop mostly at Dave’s Comics. Joe was the manager and knew his stuff, always making good recommendations. He put me up onto Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #1 – a real game changer.

MARK: Your mention of Eye of Agamotto, and the pivotal role it played in your life, makes me wonder if you give much thought to the fact that you could be playing a similar role for the young people who come into Vault of Midnight each day. Is that the best part of the job… turning young people onto stuff that they really connect with? And, I imagine, it’s also a lot of responsibility…

CURTIS: I think everyone can remember their first pivotal piece of fiction/pop-culture whether it was G.I Joe or Lord of the Rings, My Little Pony, Pac-Man or The X-Men. That stuff is a big deal and informs us as we grow up. Being part of that on any level is as gratifying as anything I’ve ever done. Recommending someone their first “Conan” is huge… It changed the course of my life I’m sure. As an example of this, I got a card recently from a patron of our first location, all the way back in 1996… a fellow by the name of Ming Chen… thanking me for the store. He now works at Jay and Silent Bob’s Secret Stash, and is a co-host on Kevin Smith’s show Comic Book Men on AMC. So, yes, it’s quite cool to maybe have more of an impact than you might with another specialty niche retail business.

MARK: What was your first comic?

CURTIS: I got a big stack of “Savage Sword of Conan” comics from an uncle when I was maybe 7 years old, and have feverishly read comic books ever since. Batman is my all time favorite superhero.

MARK: Why Batman?

CURTIS: Despite his tragic origin, or perhaps because of it, he becomes a great force for good. Training himself to the peak of human ability, a great inventor possessed of keen intellect, a master detective, martial artist, spelunker, five star chef, marksmen, munitions expert, race car driver, pilot and so much more. Also he’s a billionaire with a secret Batcave and a kick ass Batmobile. And his costume is the best. Some people may ask, “Why have a cape?” I would ask, “Have you seen Batman?”

MARK: You mentioned raising the working capital to open the store from friends and family. Did you also make use of other sources? Did you secure a bank loan to purchase inventory? Did you somehow convince publishers to take a chance on you, and send you stuff without payment upfront?

CURTIS: I was able to scrape together maybe two grand in cash, maxed out a few credit cards, and took advantage of the fact that, quite often, checks take upwards of two weeks to clear. I also used my personal collection of comic books and toys, which were a large part of our starting inventory. No suppliers would give us terms, and no bank would loan us money.

MARK: You mentioned (at the Concentrate event), if I’m not mistaken, that you didn’t really have a formal business plan for the first ten years that you were in business. Is that something that you’d recommend to other would-be entrepreneurs?

CURTIS: Being really good at, and totally in love with, your thing; comic books, food, yoga, whatever your thing is, is the most important aspect of small business in my experience. But, yes, you should probably put together a business plan sooner rather than later.

MARK: What precipitated the big move to Main Street? I can see the appeal of quadrupling your square footage, and it’s beautiful space, but it also seems risky. It’s clearly expensive space, and I imagine you must have had some doubts as to whether the Main Street crowd, which, to a great extent, is an upscale dining crowd, would come in and spend money… I think, If I’d been in your shoes, given that you already had a large, loyal audience, I’d have considered going for less expensive space farther from the Chop House. What made you confident that this was the right move… which it clearly was, given your success?

CURTIS: The new owners of the building on Liberty, where we’d moved after South Ashley, wanted us to sign a new five year lease, and I wasn’t happy with the location. And we were quickly outgrowing the square footage. We also wanted to take it to the next level sales and statement wise. We learned that the 219 Main Street location had opened up, and we put our names in the hat as it were. Steve and Shelly Kelly, the owners of the building, took a chance and gave us a shot. I’ve lived and worked in Ann Arbor my whole life and thought we’d fit right in on Main Street. We wanted to have walk-by traffic as well as being a destination for fans and loyal customers. I felt we could bring our base along with us, and grow with the added visibility. We were also crapping our collective pants from all the added rent and space.

MARK: What can you tell us about the big award that you recently won.

CURTIS: In 2010, we received the Will Eisner Spirit of Comics Retailer Award. That was huge. We had to write the history of the Vault and make a 5 minute video highlighting the shop, service and staff. (See video below.) It’s a global contest of the best comic book shops in the world, in which we all go toe-to-toe in a no-holds-barred death match… Not really, but it’s close… We were nominated by Jim Ottaviani, writer of a bunch of fine graphic novels, including: Feynman, Dignifying Science, and T-Minus… And, now that we’ve got the award, we’ve got to earn it. It’s a big deal.

MARK: And, now, you’re growing, right? I hear that you’re going to be opening a store in Grand Rapids, and making a push to grow your online presence…

CURTIS: Since opening in 1996 we’ve never had a down year, with 2012 being our best ever. Our web store just went live. New store scouting begins next week, and our first stop is Grand Rapids. We’ve done some homework and think we could fit in there. It’s time to road trip and see.

MARK: What is it that you like about Grand Rapids?

CURTIS: I’ve done some recon in the last few years as to where a second Vault could work. We’ve thought about opening another store for a while and even considered Chicago at one point. We had a change of heart about branching outside of Michigan, though, and starting looking at cities here, in hopes of finding one that we could be compatible with. Grands rapid is the right size, has a college campus, a diverse population, Art Prize is kicking butt, and the city is working hard to redevelop and stay progressive. Our good friend and lead comptroller of graphic design, Jeremy Wheeler, is a Grand Rapids native, and we’ve scheduled a tour of potential spots. It’s still conjecture at this point as to where it will be… maybe Grand Rapids, maybe somewhere else. But the hunt for Vault #2 is on. It’s still early in the process, but another store is a definite.

MARK: This is a bit of an aside, but I’m wondering if you’ve heard about this free online course being offered by Ball State University on gender roles in comics.

CURTIS: First I’ve heard of it, but it looks fantastic. Those are some of the top writers in comics that are involved.

MARK: While we’re on the subject, I’m curious as to your thoughts on girls and comics. Are things becoming a little less male-centric?

CURTIS: The idea that comics are a ‘boys only’ club is more myth than fact nowadays, in my opinion. Many decades ago, the case could be made that comic books featured primarily one genre – superheroes – and their appeal was limited to teenage boys. Modern comics are as diverse as any media, and attract readers of all kinds. Our customers/clients are at least 50/50 male/female, and span all age groups.

MARK: I’ve heard it said in the past that you consciously decided not to advertise, but, instead, to focus your spending on the sponsorship of those local initiatives that you believe in, like the Ann Arbor Skate Park. Can you talk a little about that?

CURTIS: Almost all of our advertising is done through donations to schools, charities and sponsorship of organizations and events because we can achieve the same level of exposure by supporting local groups and things that we think are awesome for Ann Arbor. Mott’s Children’s Hospital, 826 Michigan, Food Gatherers, Michigan Radio, Community High School, A2 Skate Park, an assortment of public libraries. Being a part of our community is important to us and this is a way we can do that.

MARK: What, in your opinion, does downtown Ann Arbor need? If you had the time, the money, and another space downtown, what would you be doing?

CURTIS: Stay cool and accessible, not too upscale. Good mix of retail, art, coffee and food. Rethink the Art Fair in a big way… If I had another space? Ner- themed restaurant with five-star bar food, stiff drinks and video games. Designer toy and low-brow art galleries.

MARK: Any chance you might ever branch into publishing?

CURTIS: Thought about it on and off over the years and the answer is, “Maybe.” If the right project came up? Oh, hell yes. We would love to do a DIY art platform at some point as well.

MARK: What are you envisioning when you say, “DIY art platform”?

CURTIS: “DIY art platforms” are kind of a burgeoning thing in the collector toy-art scene; they’re usually molded vinyl figures in various shapes that have been left totally white, and ready for a do-it-yourself art project. The figure I’ve been thinking about is a cartoonish human skull with a tiny body made of cast white vinyl, six to eight inches tall.

MARK: Can you talk at all about product mix? In addition to selling comics and graphic novels, you also sell games, toys, models and apparel. I’m curious as to how, over time, that mix might be changing… Clearly, when you came to Main Street, you knew that you needed to diversify, and pull in a broader audience… Was there anything that you didn’t expect? Did anything catch you off guard?

CURTIS: We’ve always had three main product lines, comic books (and graphic novels), board games (games), and Toys (action and vinyl styles). When we moved to Main Street, the added space allowed us to expand beyond the core and broaden our selection substantially. The thought was we’re good at what we do, so let’s expand that and get more sweet. Off Guard? Making sure we have enough inventory, we can’t sell what we don’t have.

MARK: I was just curious if there was anything that really surprised you, when you opened on Main Street. Were customers buying things that you hadn’t expected?

CURTIS: We’ve had to grow everything by leaps and bounds to keep up with what our customers are looking for. It turns out the citizens of Ann Arbor have a pretty crazy appetite for comics and board games, and maybe we were caught off guard by just how much. The amount of space dedicated to board games, for instance, has easily tripled since we opened, and we’re figuring out ways to accommodate still more. I think what’s really surprising is how popular the good stuff is, how ready our customers are for a good recommendation, and how they’ll take that recommendation and still be hungry for more. Historically, in our industry, the books that sold a gajillion copies weren’t always what you might call “good.” Nowadays, amazing titles from unknown writers and artists stand a chance on the merit of the books alone. So it’s a surprise when somebody comes in off the street and asks for Obscure Title X and we’re like, “What?? We love that book! We thought we were the only ones!”

MARK: Any advice for young entrepreneurs looking to go into retail in Ann Arbor?

CURTIS: Be really good at what you do, believe in it and it will work. Jump off the deep end, and use your powers of confidence to win.

MARK: Like a superhero?

CURTIS: Like a very confident superhero. Small-Business Man.

[note: I don’t generally like it when I read interviews that end on a cliche note like that. I think it sounds too contrived. But, since that’s really what we said, I’m leaving it... even though it sounds incredibly, and uncharacteristically, professional.]

Now here’s the Vault of Midnight video that I promised earlier:

MARK: What is Small & Mighty?

HELEN: We’re still in the defining stages of Small & Mighty, but SAM… my new acronym, since we can’t really use S&M… attempts to provide a more formal support system for businesses in their beginning years. It was already in place to some extent. We found it around town, in bars, at our houses, in the neighborhoods, etc. We were already asking for advice, comparing notes, and just generally talking shop with one another. So far ,our SAM meetings have been somewhat structured in theme, but have also just served as a sounding board for questions, concerns, and issues that we face as very small business owners.

LISA: Just to add to what Helen said, and throw in a little snarkiness… I DESPISE NETWORKING. I love Small & Mighty because we don’t wear nametags, and we always have cheese at our get-togethers. They’re actually fun, and I don’t dread them. Getting together with other self-employed folks — no matter how different our services or products — to slog through the challenges, or share super helpful, positive ideas is… wait for it… awesome.

JEAN: I’m going to follow up on what Lisa said with more of what we are NOT. We are not a start-up incubator. We are not focussed on any one sector… Both of those areas are well covered by other groups in the community… I’m pretty sure even the term ‘small’ is a relative term. We’re a group of newer business owners… I’m the exception– maybe our first entrepreneur-emeritus… who are interested in learning from each other and finding collaborative opportunity. We are also generally in the progressive, creative class category. Many of us are involved in the service sector, but we’ve been reaching out to other types of entrepreneurs. I think they could enrich the social stew and the collaborative potential. We are in the process of defining our mission. There are no official membership criteria. Most small businesses have no choice but to grow incrementally, so it seems we are all comfortable waiting for our identity to emerge naturally. There is no hierarchy, and there are no ‘deliverables.’ No one is paid to run this. If someone thinks they can contribute, and they run an independent business, they are welcome to join.

MARK: Why is a group like Small & Mighty necessary?

HELEN: I’m not sure how necessary SAM is, but I do know it’s incredibly helpful. SAM creates a forum for super-small business owners to ask concrete questions like, “Who has a good accountant?” or “Does someone have a van I could borrow this weekend?” or “I’m looking for some funding sources – who’s successfully gone that route?” to more abstract ideas like work-life balance, running successful meetings, and managing staff.

LISA: Yes. I second all that. We want to pool our complaints and successes, and learn from them. I guess to put it simply, if I can share a ‘Challenge-Overcome’ story that prevents someone else from going through it the hard way, or at least expedites it, then the group is working.

JEAN: Yes! Within SAM, we can comfortably share our ignorance and failures as well as our successes. We talk ‘learning curve’ all the time. I’m not sure that happens at most ‘networking’ events. Someone at a SAM gathering brought up the term ‘co-opetition.’ That’s the other element I would emphasize. We are committed to each other’s success, even when we’re in the same field. I think this may, in the end, be our differential. We are focussed on positive relationships with each other, our co-workers, our customers, our community. Because it works. It makes our businesses better. My 2$ theory: I think small businesses can harness a kind of reverse economy of scale when they work together — relationships based on trust and goodwill are more efficient — and a lot less expensive. That, and being flexible, are the two big assets small businesses have going for them when they go up against the goliath of Big ‘C’ capitalism.

MARK: What were the circumstances that brought the three of you together? And, if, in the process of answering that question, you could each introduce yourself and tell us what you do for a living, that would be great.

HELEN: I’m one of the owners of eat. We’re a catering company, we have a food cart, and a carry-out space on Packard, here in Ann Arbor. Jean hired me when I was in high school at the old Jefferson Market, which was where I met my business partner, Blake Reetz. I think I also met Lisa at the old Jefferson Market, but we work together quite often on the same events. She hosted our food cart when we were first starting out, a couple years ago. We’ve also partnered with her and many other wedding vendors to organize The Wedding Party, which is a not-your-average wedding show… Lisa first approached me about this at last year’s Ann Arbor Film Festival. She said that she and Jean were talking about starting a sort of network-y — support-ish group for small business owners. I think they had that meeting and decided they needed a third organizer to round out their team, so they asked me to join.

LISA: I’m the owner and manager of pot & box. We are a full-service flower shop with daily deliveries and floral design services for weddings and events. We also provide horticultural decor for residences and businesses, with an emphasis on the extraordinary and unusual. We also offer container garden design services to facilitate folks planting up all those pots & boxes out there… Ha! I guess it really does all start back at the Jefferson Market. I lived around the corner, and ate there at least once a day. OK, sometimes three.

JEAN: I used to own Jefferson Market. Now I work for Zingerman’s Community of Businesses to improve our environmental impact. I started my business in order to make the kind of life I wanted for myself and my family. What I learned quite accidentally, as people in the community became very attached to the business, and we became a community center, was that people yearn for community. We were not a perfect family or a perfect business, but we offered something people really craved — and it had nothing really to do with the coffee or the food. I really believe in community. I think we all know we need it, and we all know that, when we build it in the right way, our lives improve. I also believe in ownership… especially for women. Legacy, I’ve learned, happens in unpredictable ways… see eat, Helen and Blake’s business. I guess I hope SAM might be a part of that too. I’m doing this to apply what I’ve learned, and also to spend time with people I really adore. Lisa and I always talked business nuts and bolts. Helen and I do that too. We just, as Helen said, thought we’d broaden and formalize the conversation.

MARK: Until recently, Small & Mighty had been called YEP, which stood for Young Entrepreneurial People… Why did you decide to change the name?

HELEN: We got some flack from people who were part of the YEP network but didn’t consider themselves young. We always thought of “young” as a loose term. I think that’s how it went anyway… Lisa was more in charge of that one.

LISA: We also got flack from people when we changed the name. As someone suggested in an offline comment, “I think you’ll find that the men in the group won’t like ‘Small & Mighty,’” to which I said, after I was done scoffing, “Well, individually, we are small and mighty, and collectively too. It’s perfect. I love it.” Ironically, I was the stubborn one that wanted to call us YEP. Then, after fielding many, many comments questioning the “Y is for Young,” I posted a call for a new name on the group’s Facebook page saying, “What should we call our small and mighty group?” The catalyst to change the name was hearing that we had won the Awesome Foundation grant, and, after a brief Facebook discussion, I renamed the group. SAM.

JEAN: We are not a brand or a marketing group. The name could change again. I am not young. I know ageism exists, so I’m happy we shed the “young.” I also never believe it’s too late to start a new chapter, or to take ownership. I hope we attract people across the age spectrum who are trying something new. I think intergenerational conversation has been lost because we always are dividing and compartmentalizing socially… More cheap philosophy points for me!

MARK: What will your $1,000 grant from the Ann Arbor Awesome Foundation be used for?

HELEN: $1,000! We are so excited and honored to be granted that money.

LISA: Yes! Huzzah! As I said in the application to the Awesome Foundation, we’d love to pay someone for the organizational tasks. (Because, as small business owners, we’re REALLY good at delegating, right ladies?) We’d like to build and cultivate an online presence. We’d like to host inspirational events. I’ve been looking at the monthly meet-up in Detroit called Open City for ideas. They have really terrific panel discussions, and always a great turn out.

JEAN: I see the Awesome Foundation grant as seed money to help us grow. I don’t want SAM ever to become a burden on small business owners who almost always have limited resources. Give us a year and we’ll parlay that $1000 into something, yep, Awesome. That’s what entrepreneurs do. As Lisa said, some will go to essential, but everyday, expenses that will allow the awesome to happen, and some will be held aside for magic-making opportunities. Not sure what form that will take, as the whole group needs to weigh in, but we’ll be happy to report back when we know.

MARK: What do you see as your geographic boundaries? I ask because, with Lisa moving to Detroit, and opening a second Pot & Box store there, I’m wondering if there might be opportunities to join forces with some of the people who are doing exciting work there.

HELEN: So far our geographic boundaries have been the Ann Arbor-Ypsi area, but I feel confident with this new Pot & Box space SAM will have some ties to Detroit.

LISA: Absolutely. I have always maintained that I am a sheepdog, herding like-minded people together. Last week, the staff of Sweet Heather Anne met me at Cliff Bell’s for Open City, and a few of our entrepreneurial friends from Detroit just attended our SAM visioning seminar with Paul Saginaw of Zingerman’s. Soooooo, it’s already happening!

JEAN: I don’t think we are interested in defining geographic boundaries or cultivating that sort of division particularly. I really love Detroit and think it holds the key to Michigan’s future. For many of our group members, the Detroit area would define their market more so than just Ann Arbor-Ypsi. I would never want us to hold ourselves apart from Detroit if any entrepreneur there thought they could have something to gain by partnering with us. It would be super cool if they would sit with us at our welcome table.

MARK: To play Devil’s advocate for a minute…. What would your response be to someone who said to you, “We don’t need Small & Mighty because we already have a Chamber of Commerce“?

HELEN: SAM and the Chamber of Commerce serve different purposes. It’s always felt that the Chamber of Commerce isn’t for super small businesses. SAM provides its network with person-to-person communication lines and support.

LISA: Exactly. And, I would go further to say that someone could ask why we need SAM if we have Think Local First. To which I would answer, that SAM is a hyper-local, user-based, small business support group. I appreciate Think Local First, and have been a member since the beginning. But I can’t be vulnerable about my struggles at the annual TLF meeting like I can sitting around a giant table, eating cheese, and drinking wine with the SAM peeps.

JEAN: Yes to all that Lisa said. I also have been a longtime supporter and past board member (twice!) of TLF. We are… at least on my part… intentionally something quite different. We have no standard ‘deliverables’ like the Chamber or TLF – no marketing function, no public campaigns, and, until now, no real presence. We are a collaborative, scrappy little nuts-and-bolts support group for entrepreneurs.

MARK: What’s the biggest problem facing local entrepreneurs such as yourselves today? Is it access to working capital?

HELEN: Working capital is certainly the biggest obstacle for both start-up and growth. Blake and I keep finding our business at a place where we could potentially expand, but with what money? We get to a spot where we can make it with the infrastructure that we have, but we can’t grow with that infrastructure. Then, in order to grow our business, we have to add more of everything – kitchen equipment, staff, vehicles, etc. How to get that capital to push us up again is always a huge question.

LISA: Working capital, gimme! Of course it’s a challenge. You have to be creative. Or throw it on the credit card and bust some ass to pay it off. But, then again, I am a huge advocate for challenges bringing out the most creative solutions. I think there can be a balance between sourcing funding in creative ways and making it work when you can’t.

JEAN: Access to capital provides the capacity to plan ahead. It’s a tool. The banking system for small and big business are separated, and funds for small, localized businesses are very constricted right now. New pathways are opening. People like Michael Shuman are working to open new channels. The majority of sustained job growth happens in small businesses- – even Romney campaigned on that – but we’re not supporting them sufficiently. Access to capital is also a limiting factor to pursuing environmental sustainability for small businesses. One has to look beyond upfront costs to savings on operating costs to see how it pays for itself – but banks don’t want to go there. Small businesses can’t easily get investors (few qualify legally) and everything from a bank is tied to equity now.

MARK: Who can join Small & Mighty? What kinds of entrepreneurs are you looking for? Are there certain sectors that you’re focused on?

HELEN: The SAM network has been pretty diverse so far. We have folks who, like Jean, are small business/community supporters and great resources. We have folks like Lisa and I who have been in business for a handful of years with an established base. It’s been really interesting to see who comes and what brings them. We aren’t really looking for any certain kind of entrepreneur. It’s great to get in a room with a bunch of people who own very different businesses and find that there some common issues that we all face.

LISA: Our only ‘you must be this high to ride’ stipulation is that we ask that people who attend are “happening,” as Jean says — People who are business-runners, self-employed, or non-profit organizers. This isn’t the place for people who are thinking about maybe this idea that might work for a business… We want reports from the field, and we want to talk about them over a cheese plate.

MARK: This is a big step. Why do you think now is the right time?

PHILLIS: A few reasons. First, after two seasons as a food cart, we felt we were ready. Our sales grew by 33% from year 1 to year 2 and we gained a devoted following. Second, we are ready to expand our culinary limits beyond what we can do in a food cart, with its small space and limited equipment. Vegan food also seems to be hitting its stride and entering the mainstream. When Bill Clinton goes vegan you know the chances for a vegan restaurant to succeed have never been better. We want to take the “vegan” concept and revolutionize it. No boring flavors, no pre-fab fake meats. We can take virtually any dish and make it vegan, from scratch, using fresh, wholesome, plant-based ingredients. And it will satisfy even meat-lovers.

MARK: I’m curious as to how many of your customers are vegans, and how many, like me, are just meant eaters who occasionally slip up. Do you have any sense as to the way your clientele breaks down on the omnivore-vegan continuum?

PHILLIS: I don’t have hard numbers, but from talking with people I’m guessing that most are omnivores, some are vegetarians, and just a handful are vegans. I’m basing this on how often I’ve heard from customers: “I’m not vegan, I’m not even vegetarian, I just really like your food.” We also get a lot of people who eat our food and afterwards are surprised to learn it’s vegan.

MARK: As for your comment about being able to “take any dish and make it vegan,” I’m wondering if that’s difficult to do when you’re not sampling the meat dishes your attempting to replicate and comparing them head-to-head.

PHILLIS: I haven’t been a vegan my whole life — only really for the past six years or so (though I’ve been vegetarian on and off since my teenage years). So I know what meat and dairy taste like. But we aren’t trying to make things that taste like meat or cheese. We’re attempting to get that same level of satisfaction from food that people associate with its meat or dairy counterpart. Take, for instance, our barbecue tofu sliders. You still get a messy sandwich with great barbecue sauce that has something chewy and a tangy slaw inside a bun. We aren’t attempting to replicate meat per se; we’re putting a vegan spin on a dish that people know and love.

MARK: Will the lunch cart be retired now, or will you still make use if it somehow?

PHILLIS: We haven’t decided that yet. It certainly won’t be in operation on a regular basis. We may explore using it for special events.

MARK: I like the idea of the carts recirculating in the community, and allowing new food entrepreneurs to try their hand at entrepreneurship, but, I think, if I were in your shoes, I’d be tempted to keep it, and explore other opportunities, given that you’re so known for the cart. If nothing else, it would be good advertising for the restaurant… Speaking of the cart, I’m curious as to how you came by it in the first place. Did you build it? Did you buy it? Did it have a life somewhere in the U.S. before Lunch Room.

PHILLIS: We thought about operating the cart as well, but Joel and I believe in focusing our energies on one thing and doing it well. Running a food cart itself can be a 70+ hour per week gig. There’s no way we could do that and run a restaurant… The cart itself is an interesting story. We responded to an ad on Craig’s List and purchased a trailer, formerly the base of a pop-up camper, with three partially built external walls, for $550. We drove to Kokomo, Indiana, and bought it from a man named Rev. Joseph (actually, Rev. Joseph was in the hospital, so we bought it from his agent, “Danny”), who had started, but given up on, building a “Gypsy wagon” that he could take across the country, doing fortune telling in. We brought it home and, with the help of friends, finished the interior and exterior construction, plumbing, electrical, and roof, and installed all of the equipment.

MARK: How, if at all, will the menu change now that you’re expanding?

PHILLIS: The menu will grow tremendously. We have new breakfast and brunch items, entrees, salads and sides, and desserts. We have been busy developing and testing new recipes steadily since the food cart closed. We have been experimenting with “cheeses” of various flavors and consistencies made from cashews, coconut milk, tapioca, and nutritional yeast. We have four different seitan recipes that can be used in burgers, jambalaya, stir fry, and with biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Among the offerings people will see at the restaurant will be Bahn Mi, BBQ tofu, Cuban black beans, curry seitan stirfy, jambalaya, mac & cheese, nachos, Pad Thai, paella, pizza, roasted root veggie pasties, sushi, tempeh reubens, French toast, ratatouille, risotto, tacos breakfast burritos, ice cream sundaes, strawberry kiwi tarts, and gingered poached fruits. This is a select list but it gives a pretty good idea of what we’ll have.

MARK: How, if at all, have you seen Ann Arbor’s food cart culture evolve since you first opened The Lunch Room?

PHILLIS: Not much, really. There hasn’t been much activity beyond Mark’s Carts, other than vendors at Farmer’s Market and (mainly hot dog) carts around the U-M Diag. As long as commercial kitchen space remains severely limited, it’ll be hard for new food carts to get started.

MARK: How about within the tiny universe of Mark’s Carts… are things evolving and changing? Are people trying new things? I’m curious to know what you’ve learned since starting out, and how you’re adapting as a result.

PHILLIS: I can only speak for our business, since each food cart is independently owned. We constantly sought to improve our food, our menu presentation, our marketing, our hours of operation, and our customer service. We were always trying to make it a better dining experience. That said, Mark’s Carts will change this year with the addition of at least one new cart in our former space.

MARK: I realize that all of Mark’s Carts are independently owned, but I’m curious about how small changes sweep through the pod. For instance, when you started, did you think that more people would buy their food and leave… and is the fact that they’re staying changing things? Is there more of an effort to produce things that can be eaten quickly, to open up space for other customers? Are price points changing over time, as you get a sense of what people are willing to pay for items they perceive as “street” food? Are you attempting more “combination” plates, which showcase a number of different items, or has your experience showed that more people would like to sample individual items from a number of different vendors? Anything you could share about the evolutionary process would be appreciated.

PHILLIS: We found that the more accommodating we made the space at Mark’s Carts, the more people came and the longer they stayed. So we kept putting out more tables and chairs. We expanded out onto the sidewalk on Washington St., since it was closed for construction to the west of us anyways. On Friday nights we put benches out in the plaza area closer to Downtown Home & Garden. It seemed like having a crowd was a good thing — it created a buzz and a party-like atmosphere and drew more customers. This past season lot of us started using re-usable plates, cups and flatware to cut down on the cost of disposables. So that created a different atmosphere and encouraged more people to stay. In terms of price, there was a pretty large range throughout the courtyard. Customers grumbled about dishes they felt were too expensive. At The Lunch Room we prided ourselves on value — large portions for reasonable prices. We started a combo plate this year, three half-portions of any item on our menu for $8. That was tremendously popular. Same with our brunch plate: 4 items for $8. But price point is a delicate balance between what people will pay and what you need to charge in order to make a profit in this low-margin business.

MARK: Tell us about the new space in Kerrytown. I hear you’ve got some interesting architectural ideas.

PHILLIS: The space is a blank slate right now. It will undergo more demolition before we start building again. We have wonderful young architects, Lisa Sauvé and Adam Smith of the firm Synecdoche, who see it as 1,128 square feet of possibility. They are opening up the space a lot since its last incarnation, taking advantage of the natural light from two huge banks of windows on the east and west walls. We will have an open kitchen. There will be seating at the counter facing the cooking station, stool and counter seating along one wall of windows, and banquettes with two-tops along another wall, plus tables and chairs in the central area. We are planning to preserve a little of the cart’s mystique in the design and will use repurposed materials wherever possible. There will be wood slats on the ceiling for both acoustics and aesthetics, chairs with bright accent colors, and we even have our own plant artist, Andy Sell (aka Foraging Florist). Overall, our architects Lisa and Adam have an impeccable sense of taste and are designing The Lunch Room to be not just a food destination, but an architectural one.

MARK: I’m curious as to how you came to be acquainted with Lisa and Adam. Are they Lunch Room customers?

PHILLIS: Yes, the two of them were regulars at the cart. They work just two blocks from Mark’s Carts. Adam became a BBQ tofu junkie. Joel and I really clicked with them. The cart was magical that way: we came to know so many wonderful people who have become part of our lives.

MARK: I’m curious as to how you’re bankrolling the expansion. Did you raise funds from private investors? Did you work with a bank? Did you use crowdfunding again? (Two years ago, Joel and Phillis raised over $10,000 through Kickstarter to buy their food cart.) Or did you capitalize this new venture some other way?

PHILLIS: We have a bank loan to cover most of the expenses, and for the rest we are using personal funds.

MARK: Given that you were so successful with Kickstarter last time, I’m curious as to why haven’t you made use of Kickstarter, is some way, to help fund this most recent venture? Is it more work than it’s worth?

PHILLIS: Kickstarter is a lot of work but it is worth it. But it wasn’t practical for our current situation, due to the timing. We couldn’t ask all those people for money when we hadn’t secured a space and didn’t know if or when we would secure a space. But you can’t sign a lease without proof of funds. So we went the bank-loan route.

MARK: How many seats will the new place have, and when are you planning to open?

PHILLIS: There will be 36 indoor seats and 20 or more outdoors. We are planning to open by June.

MARK: Any advice for other folks thinking about getting into the food cart business?

PHILLIS: If you’re interested in starting a restaurant, a food cart is a good place to begin. Start-up costs are much lower, and you can cut your teeth as a cook and business person. But be prepared for long, hard hours, and uncertainties, like weather. And definitely learn the health department requirements before buying a cart.

MARK: What do food cart people do over the winter in Ann Arbor? Do you cater? Do you vacation together in the tropics? Do you work on your business plans, and look for restaurant spaces?

PHILLIS: I can only speak for myself and my business partner. Last year in the off-season we ran a wholesale baking business and worked on individual freelance pursuits. We also had a few reservation-only dinner events. This year, since the cart closed, we have mainly been preparing for the restaurant — looking at real estate, negotiating a lease, learning about the trade. You’d be surprised how much all that stuff takes. It’s been a full-time job.

MARK: You mention that you’ve been studying up on the restaurant business. What specifically have you done to prepare for this new venture?

PHILLIS:We have been talking to people who currently run or have run restaurants. I am reading a book called “Restaurant Success by the Numbers,” which covers everything from negotiating a lease to music and lighting in the space. We are meeting with our consultant from the Michigan Small Business and Technology Development Center and with an accountant. We are budgeting and revising our projected revenue and expense sheets, costing out food ingredients, looking at projected sales meal by meal and day by day, and planning our menus. And, my favorite part, the endless recipe development and testing.

MARK: I’ve eaten your food, but I don’t know either of you personally. Where are you from, and what brought you to Ann Arbor?

PHILLIS: We are both native Michiganders: Joel from the west side of the state and I’m from the Detroit area. We both came to Ann Arbor for school, albeit 20 years apart. You have to guess who’s older. We became friends about 7 years ago at Michigan Peaceworks, where I was the director and Joel was the graphic designer. About 4 years ago, Joel bought the house next door to me, and we have a large adjoining backyard. After various camping and canoe trips together with our respective partners and friends, and many afternoons drinking beer in the garden, plus a memorable Tarot card reading, we decided to launch a food business.

MARK: I’ve talked to a lot of entrepreneurs, but I think you’re the first to mention consulting a Tarot deck. Can you tell us more about that? Would you not have done it, if the reading had been different?

PHILLIS: Hah, that’s funny because I’m totally not a Tarot cards kind of person. It was just a whim. Joel and I were relaxing on a hot summer afternoon with our friend Celibeth, and she pulled out a deck and said she would do a reading for each of us. Having never had one before and being an adventurous type, I said sure. I was really amazed by how the cards described what was going on in my life at that time. Ditto for Joel. It also indicated to us that our futures were intertwined. And yes, I think we still would have started a food business had the reading been different. I don’t put that much stock in cards.

MARK: Why Kerrytown?

PHILLIS: It’s a happening part of town, it’s next door to the Farmer’s Market, and it’s about 1 mile from our houses. Kerrytown is walking-distance for much of the lunchtime clientele we gained at Mark’s Carts. And Kerrytown has a wonderful collection of businesses… We look forward to adding to each others’ customer base and energy. Plus, the landlords are great to work with. During our restaurant search we learned how rare that is.

MARK: How collaborative is the local food cart community? Are you sharing information with one another, helping new people get launched, etc?

PHILLIS: There is a fair amount of collaboration that goes on within the food carts. Last year, The Lunch Room helped two new carts get launched, advising them on navigating Health Department regulations, budgeting, ingredient sourcing, and the like.

MARK: Since you brought up ingredient sourcing, I’m curious to know what involvement, if any, you’ve had with the Washtenaw Food Hub folks. My sense, having talked with a number of local food entrepreneurs, is that, right now, it’s difficult to cultivate relationships with local farmers and vendors, and my hope is that Food Hub might make it easier to do so. I’m curious to know your perspective, though.

PHILLIS: Actually, they were getting started just as we were winding down for the cart season, so we haven’t intersected much. But we have business relationships with a handful of local farmers. We would place orders each week during the cart season, and pick them up at Farmer’s Market.

MARK: Where do you see food carts in Ann Arbor in another five years?

PHILLIS: I don’t know. I see the lack of commercial kitchen space as the main obstacle. If you want to do something more elaborate than hot dogs or lemonade, you need a commissary to work from. They are almost impossible to find. The city permitting system for food carts is complicated too. At Mark’s Carts we didn’t have to worry about that because we were on private property. But if you’re going to be on the street, there are rules governing selling food from parking spaces (i.e. you can’t do it). And, if you want to get a permit for sidewalk space, you need the type of cart that’s small enough to pull up on the sidewalk. Any real advancement for food carts or food trucks in Ann Arbor would have to start with commercial kitchens and an overhaul of city regulations.

MARK: Is there any political momentum to see that accomplished? Given the success that other regions have had with food carts, like Portland, I’d think that there would be more of a movement here. But, as progressive as we claim to be, I think there’s a lot of fear here about change. And I’ve also heard that local restaurants aren’t too enthusiastic about the competition… Care to comment?

PHILLIS: If there is a movement to make Ann Arbor more food-cart friendly, I haven’t heard about it. I did hear that they just passed such regulations in Traverse City which is interesting. With the national trend toward food carts and trucks, I wouldn’t be surprised if people start organizing in Ann Arbor.

MARK: Speaking of Portland, I notice that you’ve spent some time there, studying their food cart culture. What were your major take-aways having studied the carts there, and how, if at all, have you implemented the ideas at The Lunch Room?

PHILLIS: Yes, last year before the start of the food cart season Joel and I spent five days in Portland. We were primarily studying vegan food. We ate at 20 vegan food carts, restaurants, and bars. Our major takeaways were in terms of food, for instance our Saturday brunch at the cart was inspired by our experience at Portobello, a wonderful vegan restaurant. And our Southern style collard greens were inspired by a trip to the Homegrown Smoker food cart. In terms of food carts, we were surprised to learn there are over 600 in the city. It sounds like it’s easy to get licensed and health regulations are a lot more lax than they are in Washtenaw County. We also spoke to restaurant owners and found a range of attitudes toward the food carts, from those who felt the carts were drawing away their customer base to those who didn’t think it affected their business at all. But the people of Portland love their food carts and food cart culture. The carts are everywhere: grouped together in blocks, singly in vacant lots, in front of colleges. There are upscale “pods” (clusters of carts with tables and/or a canopy in the middle) and grimier, trashier areas of carts. Something for everyone.

MARK: You mention that available kitchen space is constraining the growth of our local food cart ecosystem… As I understand it, the entrepreneurs working at Mark’s Carts have access to a shared kitchen space. Outside of that, however, there’s no infrastructure… I’m curious if any attempts have been made to work collaboratively with local restaurants. Have any of them attempted to work out kitchen-sharing arrangements during off-peak hours, for instance?

PHILLIS: I know a couple of people who have had arrangements with area restaurants to use their kitchens in the wee hours of the night, but it seems rare. There is no infrastructure for that sort of thing. A food cart owner would have to seek out and follow leads and try to find something that works and, probably, have to be willing to work overnight.

MARK: You mentioned above that you could make a delicious substitute for any meat dish. I was wondering if you could give me a few tips for vegan fried chicken?

PHILLIS: I should learn not to boast, since there are probably things I couldn’t veganize. Don’t ask for liver and onions or tripe. But if you insist on vegan fried chicken, my version would start with a seitan made with flavors you associate with chicken, like garlic, onion, rosemary, thyme, oregano, bay leaves and sage, simmered in a rich vegetable broth. Then I would slice the seitan and dredge it in a pecan-cornmeal mixture with a little fresh tarragon and pan fry it until golden brown. I would serve it with a nice side of Southern-style collard greens, made delicious with sundried tomatoes, lemon juice, red wine vinegar and liquid smoke. How does that sound?

MARK: That actually sounds super awesome…. One last question. Given your association with Michigan Peaceworks, I was wondering if you might want to bring politics into the conversation, and perhaps says something about why it is, in your opinion, that vegan restaurants are important right now.

PHILLIS: I’m not into proselytizing about veganism and am not trying to convert anyone. I personally believe that a vegan diet, incorporating lots of fresh produce, is the healthiest way to eat. It is also the most environmentally friendly. But at The Lunch Room we’re not expecting customers to line up for political principles; we’re expecting them to come for the delicious food.