Strange as it may sound, this week in 1972, The Candy Man by Sammy Davis, Jr. was at the top of the music charts. (I know this because I heard the song and the fact on the radio.) Now for those of you born in recent decades who have never heard the song, trust me – it is pollyannish and, well – saccharine. And yet I remembered, quite fondly, watching Sammy Davis, Jr. perform the song in the showroom of a Las Vegas casino. And I was puzzled by that positive emotion. Here's what I've come up with.
In the early seventies, showrooms in Las Vegas still had a certain intimacy. There was far less spectacle, and much more up close and personal. You could hear the tap of Sammy's shoes (even without a mic) and you could see the sweat on his brow – without benefit of a giant video display. I think it was that intimacy that conjured up such warm feelings.
Today, intimacy is in short supply – everything is big, SUPERSIZED! I love CostCo, but it's like a gajillion square feet. I love Hollywood movies, but most of them are so effects-driven that they've excised most of the humanity. And what ever happened to those little bottles of Coke and 7Up my grandparents kept in their refrigerator?
Maybe I'm not the only guy who misses the intimacy. Certainly, intimacy is not completely absent in business – would a Starbuck's store feel the same if it was 20,000 square feet instead of 2,000? I don't think so. Apple stores are kicking butt (sales per square foot: $4,032 - compared to around $400 per square foot for average retailers and $1,000 for GREAT retailers). Apple stores offer what might be the most intimate retail experience on the planet – The Genius Bar – personal one on one service – FREE. And Whole Foods isn't doing too bad. At Whole Foods, produce employees carry around knives so they can slice a piece of fruit or a vegetable for you to sample. Pretty darn intimate.
Maybe intimacy is something people really value – maybe they even long for it. And from what I can tell, they'll pay for it. Might be worth thinking about.
