Now that the orange dust has settled on the Cheez-It pop-up diner, we should take a moment to discuss this whole concept and where it will go next. The concept I’m referring to is middle-of-the-road brands garnering lots of publicity by creating an experiential event like this one.

For those who don’t know, the Cheez-It pop-up diner “was” a temporary restaurant that took over the old Dixon Roadside in Woodstock to serve a Cheez-It inspired menu for one week. It came and went so quickly that perhaps it was all a figment of our imaginations. If a Kellogg’s brand makes a pop-up in the woods with nobody around to see it, did it really happen? In this case the answer is a resounding yes, as hundreds of people flocked to the most famous small town in America to try their hand at things like: Cheez-It milkshakes, cracker-crusted Texas toast, a Cheezcake, and Cheezy Chicky Tendies. I don’t know about you, but nothing gets me going like tendies. But Cheez-It tendies? I’m not so sure. I do love a tendie, I even love saying the word “tendie” and I guess I like Cheez-Its, but the two of them together?

It reminds me of a review of a music video I worked on that was a collaboration between Blue Man Group and Gavin Rossdale of the band Bush. The review simply stated, “I like Gavin Rossdale. I like Blue Man but the two of them together suck balls. Whoever came up with this project should be fired.” It’s important to state that it wasn’t my idea, but I was a part of it the whole way so maybe I should have been fired. Probably, but the point is that not everything is meant to go together.

Regardless, if one judges success based on numbers then you have no option but to call the Cheez-It pop-up diner a smash hit. The take-out line reached three or more hours in length. The merch stand ran out of everything in three days. On the other hand, judging something purely by numbers can be a problem. Hundreds of thousands of people think Boston is a lovely place to live when it is demonstrably not the case. People who live in, or used to live in, Boston are all miserable. All of them. Most of them anyway. Well, okay, my friend AJ is from there and he’s obnoxious so I’m extrapolating but there’s no harm in a test group of one, right? What I mean to say is that just because there were epically long lines, great reviews, and hundreds of satisfied customers does not mean the Cheez-It pop-up diner was a success.

I desperately want to come up with a reason to dislike the whole thing. It’s innate, like my need to grow rainbow chard. I don’t like chard. I don’t eat chard but somehow, I’m still driven to plant it in the garden every year. Likewise, I feel pulled toward disliking the Cheez-It pop-up diner.

In my mind, Cheez-Its are stuck between two worlds. They’re part cracker and part chip but aren’t fully either. They look like a cracker, in fact they’re sold as “snack crackers,” but in general crackers are built to hold things like cheese or peanut butter or maybe some smoked salmon. Cheez-Its can’t hold much of anything. Too small. Too dainty. Imagine showing up at a party with a big tub of chicken salad or maybe an ungodly amount of liver pate, and the only available delivery service for these delights is a box of Cheez-Its. You’re gonna be bummed, the party will be ruined, and most likely you’ll end up homeless and miserable. Picture that same scenario with a box of Ritz or a basic saltine. Now things are gonna go your way. You could probably run for office.

I think that firmly establishes Cheez-Its as not being able to fully execute the role of a traditional cracker, but what about a chip? It seems to me that in most ways the Cheez-It behaves like a potato chip but with one major difference. There’s no potato involved. In fact, there’s no anything involved in making a Cheez-It. It’s just flour and cheese plus some other stuff that I don’t know what it is but am supposed to be okay with consuming because I’m supposed to believe that somebody looks out for that kind of thing and won’t let me eat stuff that will kill me even though that happens every day but I’m supposed to just keep on trusting whatever person or agency is in charge of making our food less prone to killing people even though nobody knows what that group is nor how they operate. Talk about the deep state. The point is that a chip is made from a potato and there isn’t a spud in sight on the Cheez-It ingredient list. It’s basically just got cheese in it. Cheese in it. Cheese it. See?

All of which is to say that Cheez-Its fall into the same category as Savannah Bananas baseball, the exhibition team that features in-game dancing and batters playing rock-scissors-paper to determine the next pitch. They’re stuck between two worlds. Are they professional athletes or professional clowns? And to be clear I’m not dissing clowns here. I’ve crossed paths with more than my share of clowns over the years and I don’t want to get on their bad sides. They’re much more than just balloon animals and giant shoes. A properly trained clown can be quite nasty when riled up.

I feel like I’ve strayed from the topic at hand, which is to offer some sort of review of the Cheez-It pop-up diner from the perspective of someone who didn’t go there. I’ll try to be as succinct as possible. The Cheez-It pop-up diner was a minor skirmish along one battle line in the larger war between those that make sh*t, those who try to get us to buy sh*t, and those of us who eat this sh*t. I am less concerned about the impending doom that the Cheez-It Biscu-It will surely bring about than I am about other brands jumping onto this promotional bandwagon. Imagine the Keebler Pop-Up, a tree shaped trailer filled with elves that serves Fudge Stripe club sandwiches, or the Kraft Singles speed-dating app where you can meet up with other unhitched locals over grilled cheese and ketchup. You think I’m kidding but somewhere out there a marketing person is reading this article and thinking, “By God, he’s onto something.” And it can scale up. Imagine a giant theme park that’s all about chocolate, featuring candy-themed roller coasters, dining experiences, and attractions like the “Make Your Own Candy Bar” or “Stuff Your Own Peanut Butter Cup” in sections called “ChocolateTown” or “Candymonium.” All of it built near a chocolate factory that resides in a town named after the chocolate maker. And for some reason it will be in Pennsylvania. It could totally happen.