My Other Favorite Drink

Sorry I haven’t written in so very long, but my birthday kind of threw me for a loop. I keep trying to think of something that is beer blog worthy, but all I seem to be able to think of is this canoe trip I’m trying to put together.

I have had several great stories that have emerged from the Tiki bar, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to tell them. Maybe in a few years, when we can all look back and laugh. Until then, mums the word.

That brings me to today’s topic. My other favorite drink. Don’t get me wrong, beer is my favorite, but one can’t live on beer alone. (I know. I’ve tried.)

I am not a pop drinker. Just never acquired a taste for it. I don’t drink wine or juice. Same reason. Hard booze is too expensive and is not the way I like to start my day. I don’t drink water, because fish make love in it.

Coffee is the other elixir of life, and I would be sunk without it. I’ve mentioned that I am not now, nor have I ever been, a morning person. I am most definitely a creature of the night and no amount of hypnotherapy is going to change that. So, what is a career night owl to do? Resort to a hot cup of “ambition” when life intervenes and I have to roll out of bed in the morning just like everyone else.

I know I am not the only person that feels this way. Those Starbucks folks seem to do pretty well for themselves, seeing as how every crossroad in the U.S. has one of their stores. But I just don’t seem to approach the subject of coffee the same way as other people. Some people look at it like a connoisseur of fine wines, selecting the whole beans from a certain region of the world, selecting a roast that suits their palate, having it brewed and seasoned and served in just such a way.

Not me.

I get up and snarl at the world around me, and head for the coffee pot, like some angry zombie deprived of his fair share of brains.

My old coffee pot was a simple affair. No clock, no timer, only one button, and a small red light to tell me that relief was on the way from this incomprehensible world of “early”. It was great. It was black to match all of the rest of our kitchen accessories and had cost about $12 new. Its one deluxe feature was that after four hours, it would shut itself off. This machine had brewed enough coffee to float a small battleship, and it had managed to keep me alive, and married, for many years. But it had seen it’s day. It used to take 8-12 minutes, from button push to 12 cups of steamy goodness. Now it takes 45. I just can’t wait that long. Too many bad things can happen in that length of time. I am a horrible grump first thing in the morning, but I can manage to keep my mouth shut for 8-12 minutes, as I listen to that reassuring gurgle that tells me help is on the way and I will soon return to the polite “land of the living”.

I cannot wait 45 minutes.

I have loved this little mechanical wonder for many years, but I knew that it was time for a change. So I’ve been on the lookout for a replacement. I didn’t want to spend a lot of money, because I’m the only one at my house that drinks coffee, and I can’t justify $50 for some newfangled job.

The other day, the girls and I were grocery shopping, and there by the checkout was the answer. A white plastic Procter-Silex (the same brand as my old one) that was going to save my marriage, and keep me from doing something crazy and going to jail, all for $12.

So, I’m back to being me, at least first thing in the morning.

Doc