Change is coming, and it’s pissing people off

Hey folks,

This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Pull up a rocking chair, grab a cold glass of sweet tea, and let’s talk about something we all know and love, or have been hearing about that past few days: Cracker Barrel.

For generations, it’s been a familiar, comforting place. Especially for those readers located primarily the Southern and Midwestern United States. The brand, founded in Tennessee, has a strong regional focus that aligns with its Southern-themed food and decor.

You knew what image you were buying into: a front porch full of rocking chairs, a general store bursting with nostalgia, and a menu that tasted like Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house. It created an image that all is well with America. It was a living testament to American Gothic.

But there’s a major uproar among the Cracker Barrel faithful. Walk into the “new” Cracker Barrel and you can smell the change. It’s coming and it’s inevitable. And change has people pissed off. But the fact remains, adapt or die.

For now the rocking chairs are still there, the gift shop is still packed with hokey trinkets imported from China, the factory packed jars of overpriced “grandma’s preserves” still collect dust on the gift shop shelves. You still get to cosplay that your visiting grandma’s cabin in the Smoky Mountains, even though Cracker Barrel locations are primarily located next to freeways and interstates. At Cracker Barrel you buy into the image. The cult. Even though the gravy is as thick as wall paper and the biscuits are hard as rocks.

But have you heard about the new changes? The locations look a different. The interiors are a bit sleeker, less cluttered with mas produced old-timey knick-knacks. The color palette is shifting from deep, rich woods to something lighter, more open. Some of the old-timers might call it “modernized.” A bit of the rustic charm seems to be fading, replaced by something a little more… well, on-trend.

It’s the same problem MAGA has. They don’t want to change to something brighter, modern and more open.

Both Cracker Barrel and MAGA built their identities on nostalgia, a yearning for “the way things used to be.” Old diners filled with the image of gingham curtains. Grandpa’s Sunday hymns. Flags in the breeze. And for a while, that nostalgia worked. It brought in crowds who wanted to feel safe inside a curated memory of America.

But here’s the rub: you can’t grow forever on a customer base that’s literally dying. Cracker Barrel’s main customer is over 70 years old. They are clinging to a made up image of “how it used to be”. But the fact is, the next generation doesn’t feel that way. They are moving on. And that pisses MAGA off.

Nostalgia Doesn’t Scale

Younger diners don’t want to eat like their great-grandparents. They want new offerings like oat milk in the coffee, avocado on the toast, lighter/healthier menu choices , Wi-Fi that actually works. Just like younger voters don’t want to cosplay the 1950s with every election cycle. Both groups roll their eyes at institutions that refuse to evolve while demanding loyalty out of “tradition.” With this redesign, Grandma and Grandpa are feeling left behind. The world is moving on without them.

When Cracker Barrel tries to modernize, it’s meets resistance. But the change is needed for survival. Expect a smaller serving menu item here, a “lighter fare” option there, a redesigned dining room that has modern point of sale at each table, free Wi-Fi, and an atmosphere that doesn’t smell like grandma’s cedar closet.

This change isn’t political. It’s generational. Younger diners aren’t interested in grandma’s old crap.

They don’t want to admit the truth: the whole model is tired.

Same with MAGA. You can slap a fresh slogan on the hat, swap “build the wall” for “drill baby drill,” but the core product is still stale resentment. No matter how many TikTok accounts you open, it won’t lure in the next generation.


The Ceiling Is Low

Here’s the business reality: a brand tied exclusively to nostalgia can’t expand. Southern themed restaurants will not succeed as Cracker Barrel attempts to expand northward and (gasp!) even globally. You can milk it, you can coast on it, but you cannot scale it. Cracker Barrel can keep squeezing money out of retirees on bus tours, just like MAGA can keep squeezing votes out of aging boomers. But there’s no growth curve. The ceiling is fixed, and every year that ceiling drops a little lower.


Reinvention or Irrelevance

If Cracker Barrel really wanted to win younger audiences, they’d blow it up and rebuild, new food, new design, new identity. But that would risk alienating the base. And that’s the exact MAGA dilemma. Reinvent and lose the core audience, or double down and fade away with them.

That’s why the “new” Cracker Barrel isn’t new at all. It’s lipstick on a biscuit.

And that’s why MAGA isn’t a movement, it’s a museum exhibit with a gift shop.


Change is coming, and it’s pissing people off

Hey folks,

This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Pull up a rocking chair, grab a cold glass of sweet tea, and let’s talk about something we all know and love, or have been hearing about that past few days: Cracker Barrel.

For generations, it’s been a familiar, comforting place. Especially for those readers located primarily the Southern and Midwestern United States. The brand, founded in Tennessee, has a strong regional focus that aligns with its Southern-themed food and decor.

You knew what image you were buying into: a front porch full of rocking chairs, a general store bursting with nostalgia, and a menu that tasted like Sunday dinner at Grandma’s house. It created an image that all is well with America. It was a living testament to American Gothic.

But there’s a major uproar among the Cracker Barrel faithful. Walk into the “new” Cracker Barrel and you can smell the change. It’s coming and it’s inevitable. And change has people pissed off. But the fact remains, adapt or die.

For now the rocking chairs are still there, the gift shop is still packed with hokey trinkets imported from China, the factory packed jars of overpriced “grandma’s preserves” still collect dust on the gift shop shelves. You still get to cosplay that your visiting grandma’s cabin in the Smoky Mountains, even though Cracker Barrel locations are primarily located next to freeways and interstates. At Cracker Barrel you buy into the image. The cult. Even though the gravy is as thick as wall paper and the biscuits are hard as rocks.

But have you heard about the new changes? The locations look a different. The interiors are a bit sleeker, less cluttered with mas produced old-timey knick-knacks. The color palette is shifting from deep, rich woods to something lighter, more open. Some of the old-timers might call it “modernized.” A bit of the rustic charm seems to be fading, replaced by something a little more… well, on-trend.

It’s the same problem MAGA has. They don’t want to change to something brighter, modern and more open.

Both Cracker Barrel and MAGA built their identities on nostalgia, a yearning for “the way things used to be.” Old diners filled with the image of gingham curtains. Grandpa’s Sunday hymns. Flags in the breeze. And for a while, that nostalgia worked. It brought in crowds who wanted to feel safe inside a curated memory of America.

But here’s the rub: you can’t grow forever on a customer base that’s literally dying. Cracker Barrel’s main customer is over 70 years old. They are clinging to a made up image of “how it used to be”. But the fact is, the next generation doesn’t feel that way. They are moving on. And that pisses MAGA off.

Nostalgia Doesn’t Scale

Younger diners don’t want to eat like their great-grandparents. They want new offerings like oat milk in the coffee, avocado on the toast, lighter/healthier menu choices , Wi-Fi that actually works. Just like younger voters don’t want to cosplay the 1950s with every election cycle. Both groups roll their eyes at institutions that refuse to evolve while demanding loyalty out of “tradition.” With this redesign, Grandma and Grandpa are feeling left behind. The world is moving on without them.

When Cracker Barrel tries to modernize, it’s meets resistance. But the change is needed for survival. Expect a smaller serving menu item here, a “lighter fare” option there, a redesigned dining room that has modern point of sale at each table, free Wi-Fi, and an atmosphere that doesn’t smell like grandma’s cedar closet.

This change isn’t political. It’s generational. Younger diners aren’t interested in grandma’s old crap.

They don’t want to admit the truth: the whole model is tired.

Same with MAGA. You can slap a fresh slogan on the hat, swap “build the wall” for “drill baby drill,” but the core product is still stale resentment. No matter how many TikTok accounts you open, it won’t lure in the next generation.


The Ceiling Is Low

Here’s the business reality: a brand tied exclusively to nostalgia can’t expand. Southern themed restaurants will not succeed as Cracker Barrel attempts to expand northward and (gasp!) even globally. You can milk it, you can coast on it, but you cannot scale it. Cracker Barrel can keep squeezing money out of retirees on bus tours, just like MAGA can keep squeezing votes out of aging boomers. But there’s no growth curve. The ceiling is fixed, and every year that ceiling drops a little lower.


Reinvention or Irrelevance

If Cracker Barrel really wanted to win younger audiences, they’d blow it up and rebuild, new food, new design, new identity. But that would risk alienating the base. And that’s the exact MAGA dilemma. Reinvent and lose the core audience, or double down and fade away with them.

That’s why the “new” Cracker Barrel isn’t new at all. It’s lipstick on a biscuit.

And that’s why MAGA isn’t a movement, it’s a museum exhibit with a gift shop.

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