Pizza Hut Nationalism

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"And suppose I am man," answered the other. "And suppose that I give the answer that shatters even a laugh. Suppose I do not laugh back at you, do not blaspheme you, do not curse you. But suppose, standing up straight under the sky, with every power of my being, I thank you for the fools' paradise you have made. Suppose I praise you, with a literal pain of ecstasy, for the jest that has brought me so terrible a joy. If we have taken the child's games, and given them the seriousness of a Crusade, if we have drenched your grotesque Dutch garden with the blood of martyrs, we have turned a nursery into a temple. I ask you, in the name of Heaven, who wins?"

The Napoleon of Notting Hill

Like many young boys in the 1990’s, my family had a Book-It tradition. Pizza Hut was the next town over, and every month the family would drive out there so we could redeem the reward slip for our personal Pan Pizza. Given our middle class background, this dine-in chain was as fancy as it got. The exterior’s two-tiered pavilion style roof was instantly recognizable driving by. It had a quiet, slightly dark interior with its unique chandeliers over the table and red booths with wooden trim. For a kid who didn’t know better, it felt pretty fancy. We got out drinks in semi-opaque scarlet cups where Pepsi seemed to have an elevated taste. Their unique tactile feel and thickness left an impact to this day. The jukebox sat on the corner, awaiting your quarters to play the greatest hits of times past. Next to it was an old Pac-Man where my siblings had the esteemed tradition of competing for the high score.

Yet time passed by, and Pizza Hut lost market share due to the transition to delivery and an influx of competitors. The Pizza Hut my family frequented is no more and the building now sells farm supplies. One sees the classic gabled red roof everywhere, but repurposed to Churches, general stores, and even Domino’s Pizza. While Pizza Hut’s meteoric success was astonishing, spearheaded by lots of gimmicky pizzas and its unique style, they couldn’t keep the momentum going. The pizza was overpriced compared to competitor’s offerings and quality control issues seeped in. It wasn’t more than ten years from when they were at the top than their dominance ended, and mass store closures brought the era to an end.

Yet millions look back at the restaurant chain in its heyday. They still feel the ridges of those red plastic cups, picture that cute high-school waitress serving them, the little grandeur of those happy times with loved ones. They remember the cheery atmosphere devoid of screens, feel the glossy menu in their hands. In all honesty, the pizza was never that great, but the ambiance gave it a sense of place in a world where everywhere else is an infinitely interchangeable no-space, an airport society. Whether it was celebrating a birthday in second grade or hanging out with your high-school buddies during a night in the town, you could count on that distinct space that oozed comradery and fun.

There are such good memories that an eccentric millionaire has made it his mission to resurrect the old franchise, taking it upon himself to recreate the old-school feel many millennials and gen-xers yearn for in our convenience-focused age.