On coffee.
I never used to drink it. Now I do. By the gallon.
Coffee. It’s a “get used to” taste, like beer or smelly cheese. But it’s a warm comforting liquid, and it’s important to my life. Just one year ago, though, it was so completely off the radar that I never would have thought about ordering a cup.
Then something happened: mornings. More specifically, a switch in my schedule that required me to be at work at 7 AM. I now had a reason for wanting a caffeinated brew, and I finally had the time to make it.
It wasn’t that I had never been awake during the morning. It’s just that I had gone through life working jobs that required one of two things from me: late nights or very early mornings. I didn’t need coffee for the late night. And the early morning led to a bleary eyed trance that was not conducive to pouring hot liquids into a small cup.
So for the first twenty-six years of my life, I went without. And now, it’s as if I’m frantically trying to catch up. I feel deficient. Out of practice. A novice.
I’ll be the first to admit that it’s partly about looks. There’s an image to being a coffee drinker that seems very romantic to me. I not only like the taste – the wonderful, slightly burnt smell of brewing coffee; the smoky aftertaste; the warmth, weight and body – but I like the way I feel, like a serious writer. I could drink gin, like Hemingway. I could use various types of drugs, like Thompson. Instead, I drink coffee.
A lot of it, actually. I have a completist personality – I want the entire set, the entire experience, the entire scope of being. So it’s only natural for me to make a pot of coffee at 8 PM, pour it into a little thermos, and head to the computer to make blog updates, or write book articles, or do whatever it is I end up doing as time wastes away on the Internet. It all seems so natural to me, actually, as if I was supposed to be a coffee drinker right out of the womb.
Maybe I was. My parents were both coffee hounds, as were my grandparents. It’s not uncommon – in fact, it’s the norm – to wake up at my grandmother’s house at 6 AM with a steaming pot of coffee waiting. Usually, it’s about 10 before we finally break away from the morning conversation, ready to finally start our day – showers, clothes, and a brisk walk outside in the wintry cold.
I’m proud to embrace the coffee monster. No more of that fluffy chocolate mocha frappa-lappa blah blah. Just black, thanks.
And extra jitters, while you’re at it.
I would love to like coffee. I saw a documentary on it the other night — “Modern Marvels: Coffee” — and they said something I agree with: coffee is the most romantic drink in the world.
It’s true. More intellectual conversation has been uttered over coffee than any other drink. It has so many forms and permutations that it’s almost it’s own language.
I would love to like coffee. But I don’t. I hate it. It makes me sick just to smell it.
I feel left out. I go to Starbucks and order hot chocolate.
I am a pretender. A poser.
I’ve seen it first hand, Deane. I saw you down your hot chocolate in shame.
It’s okay. I never thought I’d like coffee. Like the most secret of crushes, it suddenly springs itself on you and encompasses your mind. Someday, you’ll wake up and realize that you’re a coffee fan. Maybe not today. Maybe not for a few decades. But it will happen.
It’s a rogue drink, I fear.
Coffee is something that you either love or hate. There is no inbetween….Coffee is a staple in my life and just the smell puts me in a better frame of mind and spirit. It cant be just the caffeine, can it?
I did not drink much coffee until after I was out of college. My parents and grandparents had the Norwegian affinity for it and as indicated in a previous post, there would be a pot of coffee cooking as soon as any adult was awake in the morning.
I like it with some cream however. Also, those who like chocolate better than coffee flavor might try sucking on a wintergreen/mint lifesaver as you drink coffee. The slight chocolate flavor in coffee is amplified.
Caffeine in coffee is mostly noticed by its absence if you don’t get your morning shot or two of coffee by the nasty little headache you will get for not feeding the addiction.
i remember a time just over a year ago when i made the perfect pot of coffee. for some reason, I had woken up early for work (this never happens) and decided to brew my own coffee. Normally, you see, i will drink coffee they have made at work.
i scooped in my fresh grounds, poured the water and turned her on. i returned after my shower and the kitchen had this amazing aroma lingering.
i poured the first cup and instantly knew, it was going to be a good morning.
then i became aware of the real reason i had woken up early that day…god wanted me to have a great cup of coffee and so nudged me out of bed early. man, that god sure does work in mysterious ways.
so, like crack, i now wake up earlier than i used to in search of yet another perfect high, er pot of coffee…
I know you’re joking, but some of it is true. There is a part of me that is very sad that I hate coffee.
Both my parents were coffee drinkers. My grandpa drank his coffee black and strong. Coffee is a grown-up drink — it’s what you order when you move into adulthood. I have never made that leap, and it bothers me.
I’m a huge fan of James Bond. Even he drinks coffee. I can’t place this quote, but it’s from one of Fleming’s novels:
Coffee isn’t for boys, it’s for men. The stronger the more manly.
My stepson is 12-years-old, and we were talking about what he wants to do when he “grows up.” He talked about doing what his Dad does (he’s an executive with G.E.). He said something like this:
This could just be the ramblings of a pre-teen, but there’s another point: kids look at a coffee as an “adult” drink. Alec identifies drinking coffee with adulthood, maturity, and responsibility.
The sad thing is, so do I. Yet I still don’t drink it. What does that say about me?
Don’t sweat it, Deane. I’m in my mid 30′s and still don’t drink it. I don’t imagine I ever will, either. But unlike you, I loooove the smell of it. It’s a shame coffee doesn’t taste 1/10 as good as it smells, or I’d be hooked.
coffee makes me poop too much
No Impact Man is a guy trying to give up all environmental impacting activities, including electricity, packaged foods, etc. It’s pretty extreme.
This week, on his blog, his wife discusses how she handled giving up coffee. It’s pretty funny.
http://noimpactman.typepad.com/blog/2007/05/a_moment_of_sil.html
It’s VERY funny. I couldn’t do it, though.