The America Series - McDonald's

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As I reflected on this I crunched into my fries, hoping to stave
off their impending temperature plunge. Is there another food
that so promptly decreases in quality after five minutes? Cold
fries are not the least bit appetizing, and unlike other cold food, cannot be resuscitated by merely re-introducing warmth. They have to be new. Rapid obsolescence – there’s another
trait of our fast food nation. Every five minutes we’re throwing something out and replacing it. It’s only good if it’s as good as new. No wonder fries are called the All-American food, I
silently remarked to myself as I tried to transfer the film of grease on my fingers to my
napkin, leaving the latter crinkled and see-through (or, I suppose, “see-thru”).

Even salad is a fast food now. Just look at the McSalad shakers. Ever since the agricultural revolution, human beings have eaten salad in some form or another, and never did it occur to them that it might be a good idea to serve it in a drinking glass. The merger of salad and driving deeply disturbs me, especially when I remember the hefty woman in the SUV. But there sit the Shakers in a window to the side of the front counter, exactly as a fire
extinguisher would. The displaced extinguisher is mounted on the wall by the fry vat, where
the floor is smudged with grease and slush. I imagine a fire breaking out and a worker smashing the glass and attempting to douse the blaze with greens and Ranch dressing.
In the meantime, the deep frier attendant scoops golden strands with a V-shaped implement and funnels them into bright red boxes, to pass along to drivers who themselves have been funneled through the drive thru.

I am in a McDonald’s on 28th street in Grand Rapids, supposedly the second-busiest roadway in the state of Michigan (which the cars whizzing by outside do nothing to dissuade), a street smattered with the retail signs of car dealers, computer stores, and food joints such as this one. This particular McDonald’s is unusually creative in its décor, aiming for a chrome theme. The seats are sparkling gray and the strips of lighting are neon pink and purple, a stab at the ambience of a 1950’s diner, which I now realize suits the stool and curving countertop where I sit. But throw in the modern art on the walls, the country music station playing over the loudspeaker and the Spanish conversations of the loud workers, and the atmosphere is
not altogether coherent. It’s more of a melting pot. Which isn’t all bad for an American icon like McDonald’s, the capital of a nation.

What I do not expect is how many people there are like me – solitary patrons. There’s the teenage kid in scruffy shoes who trudges in, grabs his food, and trudges back out, followed soon by a woman with small feet in a thick overcoat, then a gray-haired woman with a worried look on her face, then two Asian girls in black leather jackets. Three well-dressed young women, their heels clicking importantly on the gray tile, walk in. One pulls out a cell phone and commences an unintriguing conversation. Even as I mentally scold her for failing to wait until after her order to chat, she says goodbye, claps the phone shut, orders and gathers her food, and leads the other two back out of the restaurant.

One well-spoken man in jeans dutifully recites an order scribbled down on scratch paper, with precise detail of omissions, as in: “One number four, one number one without lettuce, and could I have some barbecue sauce with that?” It reminds me of what my mom used to do on our family vacations, when McDonald’s was our dining room from home. Before we went inside or got to the drive thru, she would record each family member’s order – partly for clarity, given the temperament of my sister and me at that age, and partly to reduce the anxiety of conversing with the drive thru speaker or visor-crowned receptionist.

I get up to discard my tray and spot this plaque on the wall: “Our purpose is to serve you hot, fresh, nutritional food, quickly … in a friendly atmosphere. We are sincerely interested in meeting your needs. Your comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated.” I question this sincerity when I see the comment card deck next to it is empty.

I sit down again to read my USA Today, which I appropriately purchased here. I say it’s appropriate because the publication is often called “McPaper,” gaining national notoriety for
its bite-sized stories and bullet points, lubricated by brightly colored graphics – not at all unlike the counter here at McDonald’s. USA Today proclaims itself to be “The Nation’s Newspaper.” The fast food nation’s newspaper, I take it to mean.

Opening it up bears this out. The paper is indeed quite laconic, a sort of drive thru of the day’s news. A story about school kids turning in would-be Columbine copycats is entitled, “Students Speak Up, Save Lives.” An article on the New York mayor’s latest gripe about an art exhibit is summarized, “Naked, Female Jesus Draws Guiliani’s Ire.” Then I spot an item that brings the conjunction of McPaper and McDonald’s full circle. “Study Links Soft Drinks To Obesity In Kids.” I scan the bit with deep concern, sipping my Coke all the while.

I poke fun of the drive thru journalism until I turn to the editorial page and read a piece called “Pluses, Minuses Of Racial Distinctions.” The article, just a few paragraphs long, happens to be about salt deficiencies in Africans, and a possible genetic link to African-Americans. But I can’t get the idea out of my head that a phrase as vague and banal as “pluses, minuses of racial distinctions” would be followed with so little text, or that the editors couldn’t come up with a more helpful line about the very specific subject, evidently afraid of offending someone.

Could it be that a fast food nation has some trouble talking about racism? Have we bite-sized and extra-valued our way into public discourse that, like the soda-drinkers in that study, suffers from obesity and lack of muscle tone? Does a nation that runs on cutting corners lack the proper tempo to deal with meaningful things meaningfully? There’s a sign up on the wall next to me that blares, “Little-Known Black History Facts – Free With Any Purchase!” A noble effort to educate the public, no doubt, but how exactly are we to take it from a place like McDonald’s? What about this idea that you have to buy a burger to get the booklet, that black history here is just a lure, like a Happy Meal Toy? Dining is one thing, but is racial understanding a good place to cut corners?

In a fast food nation, all signs point to the drive thru.

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