There are needs, and there are wants. I NEED my morning coffee, or my day has a dead battery and I need a jump start. The smell of coffee brewing comforts me, and feels like home. With coffee, I can face my dog Roscoe who has only 2 speeds: asleep or 90 miles an hour. My little Mia wakes up like me, she stretches, yawns, and with only one eye open, she ambles up the stairs to begin her doggie day. If you were a fly on the wall, you would see that as I write I am sipping the elixir of the gods. You guessed right, if you guessed coffee. Strange rituals and choices have developed around coffee, and older people like me may remember when your choices were black, or with cream and/or sugar. Better hope that the person in line before you knows the difference between lattes, Americanos , and frappicconos, one shot or two, skim milk or whole milk, and what flavor they want in decaf or regular coffee (whipped cream or not), or you might have gray hair and wrinkles when it”s finally your turn to order.

History is divided by B.C. and A.D. The literate know that B. C. means before coffee. Anthropologists will study coffee shops and the coffee culture. White Pottery will be excavated for carbon dating. We have coffee to give us a reason to connect. “Let’s have coffee” sounds better then ” Let’s have sex on that table”. Coffee shops have rules: 1. Keep your voice down, 2.No loud parties! 3. Don’t yell at the barista for another round and 4. If you are alone, keep your eyes on your computer screen, and your earbuds in. My best friend and I even give directions to each other using the closest coffee shop as our reference point.

Coffee shops are elitist. Think about it! Harley riders do not come roaring up,dismount,and order a latte. “Let’s go have a beer.” is their favorite invitation. Cowboys, farmers, and
mechanics have dirt under their fingernails, callouses, and grease smeared on their shirts, and eyebrows may raise if they walk in to have coffee. Young professionals, students, meet-ups, and artsy-fartsy types claim coffee shops as their habitat.

Coffee can express love and friendship, and how well we know each other. Roger liked his coffee with enough cream in it to make it a caramel color. One of my sisters likes black, and blacker coffee. Another sister likes enough cream or milk to make it latte color. She also loves Christmas, because Eggnog and Gingerbread lattes are available. My sister from Portland is a coffee snob. She grinds her own coffee and uses a French Press, all very “Portlandia”. My mother is a coffee wimp. She runs hot water over the grounds, and calls it coffee,when it should be called colored water. My friend Susan likes cream and “real” sugar in her coffee. I like cream in my coffee, so please leave room for cream and then I add “fake” sugar like Splenda or Sweet and Low.

Let’s have coffee….

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