Of Coffee, And Home
Simple Life, Simple Pleasures
Years ago, and I can’t recall exactly which road trip it was, I found myself in a truck stop diner, sitting at a counter stool, drinking black, somewhat burnt coffee out of a ceramic mug, and reading Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot.
It was raining outside and dark, cars and trucks speeding by on the highway; the smell of toast and griddle grease. The coffee nearly too hot to drink, warming my hands.
That was a perfect moment.
A few months ago, I asked you all to give me a subject to write about and if I recall correctly, my friend Perry Mayer asked me about coffee. I write now and again about coffee. I drink it more often.
You can, in fact, support this newsletter by - you guessed it - buying us a coffee!
I put off writing about it because I was having a hard time finding the words for it. (Yes, I know, I’m usually too wordy!)
Plus, I was late to the coffee scene. One of my first coffee memories was when I first moved to Philly in my twenties and sitting one morning in my buddy Alan’s apartment. He made coffee and we sat there listening to NPR and I thought to myself that this new place was starting to feel like home.
I felt that, with a close friend, over coffee.
Today, I still have those moments. Some mornings, if I’m up early enough before the ladies, I can take three or four minutes and sip my Chock full o’ Nuts out of this little pottery mug that I like. I sip and it’s in my kitchen and I know the two people I love the most in the world are safe in the house, and I feel happy.
Johnny Cash was famously asked for his definition of paradise. He replied, “This morning, with her, having coffee.”
Yeah, I get that.
Last week, out of the blue, the lady of the house decided to make something called Dalgona Vietnamese Coffee. That’s a kind of whipped coffee apparently, with sugar, instant coffee, cold water or ice and milk. Then you whip it and warm it up. Or warm it first. I don’t know. But she made it and the three of us sat around our kitchen island in the middle of the day sipping Dalgona Vietnamese Coffee and it was just the best.
So Perry, I’m a simple man. I don’t need much. And so far, coffee is simple and it ain’t much. But there’s not much like it when in a place I call home with people who are my family.
Sidenote: Sipping coffee on a road trip while cruising down the highway into a sunset is pretty cool as well!
How about you? What’s your coffee?
Going to Coffee Houses in the 60s and 70s listening to music and sometimes drinking coffee.
Nothing like really good local fresh burr ground beans on a hiking trail with an aeropress. I also really enjoy going to Capitol Grounds in Montpelier where my granddaughter plays with the Brio train set and I sip and observe really cool humans. Willem Lange of Windows to the Wild is often there with some sparkly elders. If I could, I would vote for a cup of good coffee for president! It brings people together, like nothing else. I’m raising the Bar-ista!