Ten years. We made it, if just barely.

In 2002, I had an idea to open a DVD rental store. The market seemed ripe: DVDs had become the fastest selling media ever and because the studios hadn’t foreseen this, they eliminated their two-tiered pricing for video stores. And it was definitely something I could get passionate about.

Without any prior experience working at a video store, or even retail, I decided I was going to live the dream, and dedicated the next six months to researching, analyzing, writing a business plan, and raising money. And after a serendipitous conversation, I formed an enviable partnership with Ken Zeff, opening Dreaming Ant inside Crazy Mocha Coffee Co. in Bloomfield on the power corner of Taylor and Liberty where Paul’s CDs and Tessaro’s reigned supreme. I spent nearly two years behind the register, working every day except Thanksgiving and Christmas before hiring Dreaming Ant’s first employee, Andrew McKeon.

The second conversation I had with Andrew as a Dreaming Ant member will be indelibly etched in my memory, as it was then that I knew I had found my first official employee. Amiable, passionate and well versed in the New German Cinema, Andrew spoke comfortably about Fassbinder, Herzog and a variety of other shared interests before I decided on the spot to extend my offer. And on the spot he accepted. That was over 8 years ago.

It was exciting building a small retail business, struggles and all. Most rational business people would have probably closed the store at some point during the first two years, but I suffered through those bleak, early days because I wanted to provide something unique for Pittsburgh, and believed the old adage: “Build it and they will come.” And come, they did. Not in droves, mind you. We’ve never been a powerhouse generating millions in revenues. But we had our niche.

In 2007, due to space limitations in Bloomfield and solid business the previous year, I decided to open a second store in Oakland. A couple months after opening, a young woman came in and inquired what Dreaming Ant was. After I explained, she exclaimed, “Seriously? Wow. I didn’t even realize video stores still existed.” This was when I knew Oakland was doomed. As much as I loved our South Craig Street location – I mean, it was all ours! – it never took off. Again, I endured our two year lease despite hemorrhaging money because I kept hoping our luck would change. We made new friends at other great local, independent businesses — Phantom of the Attic, Ali Baba, Wicked Discs and Brave New World — and we even gained a small number of new members who followed us back to Bloomfield after we closed Oakland in early 2009. Even though I’m still in debt from that business decision, I don’t regret it.

In the intervening years, Ben Rod and Ashley Brickman became Ants, also members prior to being hired more than six years ago. Despite working limited shifts, both have become as integral to the store’s reputation and success as Andrew and I.

I liked Ben immediately, but due to his unusual, sometimes awkward sense of humor, directness and negotiation skills, I was unsure he was manageable. So I decided to give him a test. I commissioned him and his roommate to build a counter, the counter we still use to this day. And I’m happy to confess that my judgement has never been so amiss. After his trial was successfully completed, it was apparent that, although he needed to watch a few more movies, Ben was exactly the person I wanted on our team: genuine, generous, considerate, organized, exacting, a rallying force…and still awkwardly funny as hell. Hiring him shortly afterward (he made me plead), I’ve never doubted my decision.

Ashley, true to her core, demanded I give her a job; just blurted it out one day while she was looking for a movie to rent. A woman who knew what she wanted. Understandably, I was initially taken aback; my instinct was that this firebrand would be a handful to manage. But upon reflection, I came to the conclusion that she was the perfect complement to our current team: a strong woman with well-formed opinions and identity, an abundance of creativity, and a sincere desire, a passion even, to contribute to the store’s success. And truth be told, she is actually a sentimental sweetheart underneath her hardened exterior.

We’ve held on as long as possible, but business has been progressively slower each month for at least a couple years and I fear this year’s summer slow season would crush us. A recent coffee shop customer’s portentous inquiry, similar to the the one from Oakland, confirmed that Dreaming Ant’s flagship store has also jumped the shark. We were able to remain competitive when our adversaries were primarily brick-and-mortar stores, but online competition — Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, iTunes, BitTorrent, etc — has just proven to be too much.

So it is with profound sadness that I announce today that Dreaming Ant will be permanently closing at the end of May.

These past 10 years — March 24th was our anniversary — have been about much more than running a small business for me. Dreaming Ant has been one of the most rewarding and enriching endeavors I’ve ever been a part of. I have a wealth of memories, some dear to me, others not so much. I’ve learned loads, my entire perspective has expanded, my politics have shifted. I have met literally thousands of fantastic people from all walks of life, folks I likely would not know if it wasn’t for Dreaming Ant. Of these thousands, I met my dear friend, Jess. For that alone, I will be eternally grateful.

But my fortune doesn’t end with her. Although I am not worthy, I’ve been ridiculously blessed with unfathomable support from a trio of remarkably forgiving partners and a band of volunteers too big to mention all. My faithful, however, a small group of friends, most of whom I met through the store — Will, Jenn B., Jae, Erk & CharChar, Todd H., Vijai, and Billy Bitt — have volunteered countless hours toward the betterment of Dreaming Ant for which I’ll forever be indebted. I am genuinely touched and infinitely appreciative.

And I can’t discuss people affiliated with Dreaming Ant without mentioning the most consistent fixture at the back of Crazy Mocha: recording artist, author, painter, the ever-present Victor E. Navarro, Jr. Otherwise known as the inimitable Kuput and Najanski, M.D, the original Delusional became Dreaming Ant’s mascot early on. Photos of him hang on our walls. His mug is on our t-shirts. His rant is on our voicemail. He can regularly be seen picking up food or watching the store for staff. Personally, I love the guy, but love him or hate him, Victor, albeit moody and intolerable at times, is a Bloomfield institution, a creative and intellectual giant who reaches out to young and old alike. He’s second only to our movie collection in hours of entertainment provided to me over the past decade. (Slop and Victor’s son, Edgewood tie for a distant third.)

Ironically, my biggest fear prior to opening wasn’t whether the store would succeed or be profitable (possibly my downfall); it was whether I’d be able to handle the customer service component. I once thought myself a bit of a misanthrope, so opening a retail store was a big leap for me. So much so that I even asked a friend prior to opening, “What am I thinking? I don’t even like people!” I’m happy to report (although you’re likely already aware) that Dreaming Ant counts some of the most intelligent, kind, interesting, creative, generous, funny, successful, sincere, and loyal people as members. So it’s been easy. And it’s the people — our staff, our members, and our cohorts at Crazy Mocha (baristas and customers alike) — that I’ll miss most.

If the people are the heart of our little club, the movies are clearly the soul. And boy, I will miss all 18,000 of them as well. I’ve always used cinema as a form of escapism, but since opening the store, I’ve also come to appreciate the art of filmmaking, and the levels of insight that can be gleaned by putting a little thought and energy into my viewing. My only regret is that I kept putting off watching so many great movies, thinking I’d have time later on. And yet now, my time is up.

We’ve had a relatively short run compared to our former local competitors — some of whom survived 30 years before succumbing to the pressures of the new technological age we’re living in. But we’re proud to be the final remnant of the once strong brick and mortar home entertainment business in Pittsburgh, having endured some of the heaviest competition since the opening of the first video store: the Internet. We’re a bit sad, obviously. But we hold no grudges; we understand that it’s the natural evolution of commerce.

We hope, in our own way, that over the past ten years we’ve offered something special to the community and have enriched our members’ lives — a unique communal experience filled with eccentric coffee talk, personalized and thoughtful service, and an eclectic collection of movies from around the world. Perhaps the idiosyncrasies of our humble little space — digging movies out from the depths of our tight racks, sifting through the layers of dust accumulated over a decade, cautiously dislodging DVD cases from our dizzying Jenga towers — will even become fond memories.

If you’re still reading at this point, I’d be remiss if I didn’t make a final request: If any of you have any leads for good, interesting jobs for me and my staff, we would be grateful for a heads up. As we will all soon be unemployed.

Andrew, a writer by education, has a keen intellect and distinct opinions. While working on his comprehensive guide to cinema and music, Andrew is seeking employment where he can utilize his creative professional writing skills and his proven affability with customers.

Ben recently passed his licensing exam to be a massage therapist, and is excited to begin the next phase of his life utilizing his magical spirit fingers. Make sure you get his number, and schedule an appointment to relax to his brand of Swedish massage and trigger point therapy.

Ashley aka Brick is planning to take the political and art worlds by storm. Currently splitting her time between the Big Idea Bookstore, the Warhol Museum and Clear Story Creative, Brick is hoping to land an additional, flexible position planning artistic events.

As for my future, I’m hoping to get back into the tech sector, preferably as a business analyst or similar. So if you know of anyone hiring, please keep us all in mind.

On behalf of Dreaming Ant’s staff, thank you for your support and friendship over the past decade! Live long and prosper, my friends.

dB
Dean Brandt
Founder, Dreaming Ant