Manic Mondays: Coffee is more than a necessity!

Ok....I am an caffeine addict, and also have a bit of OCD.  Certain things are a must, without compromise.  As sure as Mondays are long, and hard (especially getting back into the right frame of mind to get the work week started all over again), there are a couple of things that must accompany that Monday morning ritual to make it, well, a bit more tolerable.

First, there must be good coffee. Not just any coffee, but really good, strong, fully leaded, dark roast coffee.  It must be strong, but not bitter. It must be made in a good pot, with fresh, cold water. The pot must get hot enough to ensure it brews to just the right temp.  And the coffee can be whole beans, or recently freshly ground. But beans that have been ground just a minute or so before being brewed is really great. And it really should be dark roasted for a good, strong taste.

I started drinking coffee when I was around 8 years old.  One of my fondest memories of drinking coffee was with my grandfather, at his kitchen table.  He had an old yellow rubber-maid sugar container, with a lid that opened on one end.  And his coffee cups were old Fire-Kings, and I remember some of them being green and others being maybe milky-white.  My first memories of drinking coffee were with him, at his kitchen table.  He drank Folgers. And only Folgers.  My grandfather was a World War Two Veteran (US Navy).  He was pretty much no nonsense, and rarely spoke many words. I felt privileged to be with him. I was a boy, not yet really old enough to drink coffee, but he nonetheless welcomed into the adulthood ritual of coffee-drinking.  My grandfather was a man of his generation, and smoked non-filter Camel cigarettes with his morning coffee, and the rest of the day for that matter (perhaps that helps to explain his massive heart attack early on Father's Day morning in 1986 that resulted in his mortality).  This stoic man from the "Best Generation" taught me more than his lack of emotions and words might suggest. And love of good coffee was one of them.

My grandfather usually drank his coffee black, but I think sometimes he may have used a half-teaspoon of real sugar.  Being 8 years old, I drank mine in a way that was probably more akin to a melted coffee milkshake, with enough milk & sugar added to the caffeine-laden drink that surely would have given me such an energy buzz that I probably was bouncing off the walls the rest of the day.

Nowadays, I am perhaps a little more elitist in my quest for the great mug of coffee. I am a Starbucks regular (I only drink the Bold coffee, usually a Venti, and no, I typically don't ever do the froo-froo drinks. I guess I'm boring and predictable in more than one way!). Today I really must have good, strong coffee first thing in the morning. It does more than help me ease into my day, it gives me hope that I can conquer the day. I can't imagine a day without it. It's a rare site to see me without a coffee in my hand.  And perhaps that explains my insomnia later at night!

It's funny how the smell of certain things brings back memories. For me, the smell of black coffee and strong cigarettes (especially Camels) and I am instantly and automatically transported back some 30 plus years, sitting in my grandfather's kitchen. I also think of my father, who usually had a pot of coffee ready at almost anytime of the day. These men who've been gone for many years, but their memories live on, especially when I take the time to savor a great cup of java.

Coffee allows me to return to a place of civility. I readily admit I am a java-junkie. Without it, I would be unbearable. On the few occasions I am not able to have a morning cup of Joe, I struggle to not commit some awful and evil act of hostility.  Instead of a Coke, I'd like to buy the world a cup of freshly-brewed, hot, strong coffee. I think it just might be the thing needed for world peace. Visualize it: Palestinians and Jews drinking espressos together, finding common ground(s). Can you imagine the OWS folks sitting down with Wall Street brokers, and they end up singing the coffee version of Kumbaya (KumJava!), resolving their differences in some miraculous way? Wouldn't it be nice if Democrats & Republicans could meet at Starbucks and agree to mitigate their disagreements over lattes' and cappuccinos? Oh well, guess it's just an elusive dream, evaporating like the steam over a cup of hot coffee.