The End of an Era
On December 19, 2003, the Sweet Dreams Café in Madison NJ closed its doors for the last time. The establishment had been open since 1993 and in the nearly ten years of its existence went through the same cycle of life as most entities, be they organizations, businesses, or individuals. It matured, it prospered, and then it declined. The sad thing about the decline in this case, however, is that it need not have happened. When the Café opened it was a place that had good coffee – in many varieties – teas of all kinds, and cakes and pies of all sorts. And – this was as essential an aspect of its identity as it’s food and drink – it had live music performed by local musicians. In its heyday, the coffee shop was open until midnight every day except Friday and Saturday, when it stayed open until 1am – with live music 7 nights a week. Local bands, from electric acts like Liquefied, instrumentals like the duo of Ariel Acoustics, or bridges between country and rock, such as songwriter Dave Murphy, would play music, talk with customers, and joke with the owners. Along with all of this, it went without saying, the café was also a smoking establishment. That played a part in its rise in popularity – and likely also helped hasten its decline from business. It wasn’t that people came to the café just to sit and smoke cigarettes. But whilst sipping a cup [or five] of java, conversing with friends [or even total strangers], and listening to music, people would light up a smoke or two. It was just the thing to do. Coffee, gatherings of coffee drinkers, and cigarettes tend to go together, much like French fried and ketchup. The relationship isn’t mutually exclusive; some smokers don’t drink coffee, and some coffee drinkers don’t smoke. But by and large the cigarette smoke came with the atmosphere, it was as much an attribute of the place as the music, the people, the coffee. But it was taken for granted, because the café didn’t sell cigarettes; smoking wasn’t a commodity they traded in. But what they did trade in was human decency and mutual respect. The café was a place where, if you lit up a cigarette, people wouldn’t look at you like you were a hooligan or something awful, like a terrorist. They had an atmosphere their own, and the "don't drink Starbucks" bumper stickers the place sold seemed to fly off the shelves the last month they were open. In a decade [1990-2000] when the business and customer climate in NJ was becoming increasingly homogenous and lacking in options for all citizens, the café offered citizens a place where they could listen to music, if they wanted; where they could drink coffee, tea, or even Blake’s root beer – and a place where they could smoke and still sit with the rest of the general public, instead of outside on the stoop, or secluded in glass-partitioned smoking sections like some bizarre animal specimens for the amusement and haughty remarks of the self-righteous non-smokers, like creatures in a zoo closed in for a public amusement. The Sweet Dreams Café was a place where it was okay to smoke, or to talk about politics with people who disagreed with you, or to just take a load off you feet and sip a cup of coffee. At the time the Café became established, smoking was virtually prohibited in all restaurants [remaining so to this day] and virtually all other commercial and business establishments with a few exceptions: Bars and Diners. But to go to a bar or diner just because it was the only place you were allowed to smoke isn’t really what people want. People want a place where the choice is left up to them; a place where they are free to say: I do. Or : I don’t, without the state, or the owner of the place, pushing them out the door if their choice isn’t politically correct. The café was a place you could go to without worry, without a second thought, and if you happened to light up it was not a big deal. Most of the customers were smokers. You could choose to go there based whether or not you wanted to, not whether or not you’d be allowed in. Yet, the virtual prohibition of smoking also attracted a large number of youths, some of whom became regulars – simply because it gave them a place to smoke. Nothing wrong with this perhaps, but to some it would look bad. Yet, recall that it is not the Café which caused this jump in its smoker population; other places and the state government did, by driving the smokers out of every other place, so that the numbers of them at the café swelled. Were there two such places in the area, it is quite likely the café might still be around. But there was no one else to share the burden; the coffee shop was stuck single-handedly coping with the smoking population of several towns, of varying age groups. At some point, the large numbers of people smoking in front of the place and hanging outside cause issues with the landlord, and when the lease was renewed in 2003 the place opened as a non-smoking establishment. At this point, it was safe to say that about 85 percent of its regular customers were smokers, about half of those heavy smokers, and about 90 percent of the regulars who were there two or more times a week hung out with people who were smokers and / or were one themselves. After a few months, almost all the regulars stopped coming to the Sweet Dreams Café except for a few sporadic appearances. With non-smoking came early hours, closing at 5pm except on Friday and Saturday, and closed Sunday. For those who would come after work on weekdays, the café was only open two days a week, and then only until 11pm. The combined loss of their customer base and the reduction of hours hit the establishment like a one-two punch. They eventually tried to turn over a new customer base, more sit-down, eating customers during lunchtime, but it didn’t work. The smokers – who were the backbone of the Café – had mostly left – and the nonsmokers, who had known the café in passing as a smoking establishment, mostly didn’t bother going in, despite three separate non-smoking signs. Some who did comment that they liked it better without smoking – but such comments where usually heard during mid afternoon, when there was a total of maybe eight to ten people in the whole Café. A year previous, there had been eight people at just two of the tables. With the reduction in hours, the music interests died, and many Fridays and Saturdays there wasn’t even a band playing. Other days, the band didn’t start until 8pm or so, similar to their old hours – but the new Friday and Saturday hours only gave them until 11pm to play, and they left with far fewer tips. Many just stopped coming. A half month short of a year later, with the near expiration of the lease, the place closed – ahead of schedule, although the remaining regulars had hoped they would renew it somehow. It’s closing leaves a hole in the fabric of Madison – but it was dead long before the doors slammed shut. What killed the Café? Some would blame the landlord, others the rowdy youths out front, still more would say there were too many smokers. Yet I truly believe what killed the café was a lack of respect for one’s fellow citizens. What the café offered was too eagerly sought, and it was overburdened by the towns lack of similar establishments. No one had anywhere else to go to, so they all came to the Sweet Dreams Café – and it caught the flak for their increased numbers; the cars that invaded the street, the crowds that gave life to the sidewalk, the voices, music, and yes, the cigarettes. It wasn’t the fact that people could smoke in the café that killed it. It was that they had no where else to smoke. This led to its decline [nonsmoking rules, elimination of regular customers] and eventually caused it to close its doors. The nearly ten years of good times are not forgotten. But the hard times ahead are clear in the mind, and if the environment in New Jersey does not change times will indeed get hard. The Café will not be the last to die. But perhaps it was the best .Back to main page, dude!