Hello faithful readers. Today’s post is by Caleb. He and I signed up to do a blog swap from 20sb.net. Click here to access Caleb’s blog. Ladies and gentlemen, enjoy the following post:
First, thanks to Melanie for doing it with me! Er, I mean, doing this with me. The blog-swap. Okay, foot out of mouth. I’ve read through a lot of her postings and see why so many of you enjoy reading her stuff! There are those who say that good-looking and funny ladies can’t be accountants, but Melanie is out there to prove them all wrong.
We all need things to be excited about. Snowmobiles, parties, hot dates, new shoes, Chappelle show back on the air- whatever. It doesn’t matter what it is we’re excited about as much as it does that we’re excited about something.
I have one of the best things ever to be excited about: Coffee. I know, I know- some of you are thinking this is a paltry and mundane item to get excited over, but if you are one of those non-fanatical coffee drinkers, let me win you over.
I didn’t start out in life being excited over coffee, or even liking it. My first experiences with coffee happened while growing up, watching my dad transform from a mumbling and incoherent zombie into the sarcastic and abstractedly-supportive father I knew and loved through the sheer power of hot coffee. I specifically remember him on weekends (usually when friends were over) shambling out of his bedroom in off-white old man underwear and a stained t-shirt, pin-balling his way through the hallway and kitchen towards the coffee pot. If any of my friends happened to notice him and his rooster mane of hair sticking up and he caught their eye, they could expect a salutary grunt, wave, and sort of a “Hey there calshe nana hermherm… [trails off]”
He would scoop out some Folger’s and stand there, hunched over, watching as the dark brown coffee spilled into the pot. If one were to watch closely, you could actually see his shoulders straighten and his eyelids lift as the aromas wafted into his nostrils. Not a patient man, he would yank the pot out from the coffeemaker as soon as he determined that a cup’s worth had fallen and pour it into his (cream already added) coffee cup. Since we didn’t have a newer coffeemaker, when he did this the coffee would continue to fall on the boiler, creating a hissing sound.
Now I’ve seen my dad excited. I’ve heard him cheer raucously for great Cubs plays or exclaim “Yes!” with an exaggerated arm motion when he scratches a winning lottery ticket. Rarely, however, does he get as dramatically appreciative as when he has that first sip of coffee in the morning.
Dad: “sssllluuurrrpp. Ahhh!! Yeah baby! Oh yeah… that’s JUST what poppa needed! Mmm… Sweet, sweet coffee…”
After this would usually follow some harassment of me and my friends, a half hour’s worth of internet news reading, or back to his room to do crosswords in the bathroom for an hour. Whatever he did, after that first bit of coffee he did it as his old self again.
I didn’t understand any of this great fuss until my early twenties. I don’t know what day between my first cup of adult coffee and today where I became as passionate about coffee as he is, but now I find myself the same zombie until I have my coffee and also emitting the same pleasurable sounds at my first sip. Strange, I know, but I find myself equally excited every single day of the week for my morning coffee.
So I officially add to my bucket list an item that is not a one-time event: drink delicious coffee every single day of my life.
Thanks for reading!
Caleb “I’m drinking coffee while writing this” Shreves