![]() “There was a hot-shot salesman from Pepsi. John, who normally walks around to help inquiring customers, sat down and told me how he entered the business, sounded off on soda trends, gave insight into what makes a soda taste good, offered a revisionist history of the soda industry, and told personal stories about his relationship with his beloved city, Los Angeles. Instead of selling what’s ubiquitous, Galco’s provides a prelapsarian glimpse into what the world of soda might have looked like if major corporations hadn’t taken over the market. She said, almost uncomfortably, ‘Why not?’ And I told her if anyone wants a Coke you can get it at any store, so why should I sell it? That’s the truth.” “Coca Cola called me two weeks ago and one of their reps said, ‘You’re signed up for delivery but you haven’t bought any.’ I said yes, that’s true. Amid the vast treasure trove you’ll find oddball flavors such as cucumber, anise, and banana 60 types of root beer (some dry, some creamy) a Plantation Style Mint Julep cereal-grain sodas (despite my skepticism, John insists that some have such a high mineral content that you can practically live off of them) sodas brewed like beer pinot noir wine country soda and, what may be most amazing of all, varieties of cola that don’t start with “Coca.” Now, Galco’s carries 600 different types of pop, as well as off-the-beaten path candies, beers, and an underrated Italian sub for only $4.50. It was 15 years ago when, faced with financial troubles, John decided to stock his shelves with small-batch, independent bottlers after a run-in he had with a Pepsi salesman. Selling sodas, as I soon learned, is merely his platform, one that allows him to call out the wrongs and trappings of Big Business. his entire life, his knowledge of public policy and cultural history is deep. In his words, they’re posted so everyone can see what goes on in the world of “high finance.” Having lived in L.A. It’s this iconoclastic streak that’s earned him letters from Pepsi’s lawyers, threatening to file a lawsuit because he was selling Mexican Pepsi. But at his core, John is a vigilant watchdog-a social activist in the guise of a small business owner, calling out injustices that, if you ask him, are often levied by big corporations and institutions that think they can operate unchecked. He is widely considered the guardian for independent soda bottlers. John is a friendly man, filled with a child-like enthusiasm about a beverage adored by children. For him, supporting the small guys is a life’s work. Since taking over the business, he’s turned his store into a bastion of craft soda, where the shelves are stocked with bottles emblazoned with quirky slogans (“Drink it for Vim and Vigor”) and the sounds of doo-wop music can be heard playing overhead. Interludes like these frequently pop up in conversation with John, the longtime Highland Park native whose family emigrated from Italy. Selling sodas is merely his platform, one that allows him to call out the wrongs and trappings of Big Business. And they’re forcing this onto the people…I’ll get off my soapbox now,” he laughed. Little Richard was wailing from the radio, in seeming agreement. “How much control are we under?” he asked. ![]() Which reminded him: It used to be a dollar to get a key made now, it’s $250 to buy an electronic one from the dealer. And, he pointed out, only the dealers have access to the right equipment and computers. He said he paid $2,000 dollars to have someone tell him that the computer chip died in his car. This time, I placed two recording devices on the table and grumbled about the pitfalls of technology. Normally, I don’t begin interviews by profusely apologizing to the subject, but my recording device had failed me the previous go-around, and all the colorful anecdotes, sharp insights, and pocket wisdom had been erased. Recently, I walked into Galco’s for a second time to meet John Nese, owner of the nostalgia-tinged soda pop shop that is often credited with reviving craft soda interest 15 years ago. Make a left on to York Avenue, pass the La Estrella lonchero truck that tempts you with its sizzling asada, and a half mile down York you’ll see the humble storefront of Galco’s Soda Pop Stop, an Italian Grocery Mart established in 1897. If you exit at one of the avenues and head west on Figueroa, it’s likely you’ll spot the sign for El Atacor #11, a chain famous for its tacos dorados de papa. The five lanes shrink down to two, and the synchronized stoplights at the foot of the onramp are replaced by stop signs. To get to Highland Park from downtown Los Angeles, you’ll hop on the 110 North towards Pasadena and eventually pass through a strip of highway that’s one of L.A.’s oldest. ![]()
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