OUR "GO-TO" COFFEE POT

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ON COFFEE-DRINKING...AND COFFEE POTS!

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Is there life without coffee? 

I doubt it! How can something so black and bitter be such

a blessing? (No sugar or cream, please.) Do you realize, that

the old Airplanes ("us"), could probably never get off the ground

in the mornings without the stuff! High octane for me!

You see, at our house, we make twelve cups each night at bedtime, 

one third regular and two-thirds decaf. That way we can have more. 

Then just set it on timer. Used to it was four-thirty a.m., when we were

young. Now is is seven. 

Don't ask me how or why, but by the time we reach our morning

pot, coffee gremlins, poltergeists, and evaporation have taken

four cups---thus we have eight to get ourselves going! After much

trial and error, yes, even with expensive coffees, we have settled

on Folgers, good and strong. If Folgers was good enough for 

George Washington, it's good enough for us!

I became an avid lifetime coffee drinker at age five. My grandad

came to see us and had to have a cup-and-saucer---he poured

his "hot" coffee into the saucer to cool. Then with his dear shaking

hands, brought it up to his face and sipped it. I learned from him!

That was my modus for coffee-drinking for several years.

Nowadays, dyed-in-the-wool coffee drinkers like my wife and I,

have our favorite coffee mugs, which we MUST have each day.

You won't believe mine---it is a 1983 vintage Whataburger "FIve

Cents-A-Cup" mug. In those days, you just took it in, and they filled

it for a nickel. I tried it once again in 2003, at a Whataburger down 

on Carlisle, and the girl, who was younger than my mug, had to call

the  manager, who filled it with great trepidations and murmurings.

I decided it wasn't worth it.

Forget going to Starbuck's and saying: "Er... do you honor other

other people's coffee specials here at your store?"  Mustn't be 

responsible for causing a heart attack!

Show me an avid coffee drinker and nine times out of ten, I will

show you a poetic person (with "soul!") Almost every time. For you

see, life must have its little pauses---just as a good piece of music

must have its rests---and what better for a pause, than a cup of

coffee with a friend!

(Some of these inane TV shows might profit from some "rests" for the

protagonists to pause for a moment and be human, in the midst of their

frantic chases after the perps, we need to know the characters as 

human beings. "Castle," on balance, is not a bad show but they need 

to slow down and have some coffee now and then. I might watch it.)

No coffee story would be complete without a little humor. Once upon a

time when we were newly married, the NM Group at our church had a

pie and coffee social. The men were in the den chatting while women 

were doing women's stuff in the kitchen. They brought us coffee---and

I eye-balled the green-tinged brew with great disdain. It tasted worse than
it looked! Finally some friend moseyed over to me and said: "Am I 
imagining things, or is this the worst coffee you've ever tasted?" About
this time, the women who had been peeking around the door at us, just
fell out! They had served us hot water with red and green cake coloring.
Yes, it was olive drab!

Now we come to an important part of coffee-drinking---THE POTS! As 

I think back through the mists of the past, even to my childhood,

I see many, many pots of all kinds and descriptions. For many years my

mother used an old aluminum percolator, heated on the burner. When I

was batching, I used the same kind of six-cupper. 

Early marriage found us with a gift--- a shiny, chrome vacuum pot. After

a year or two, it pooped out, and I hate to tell you, we went to instant 

coffee for awhile. (For shame!) Seems like we then went through a 

couple more of some kind of chrome pots, with neat spigots.

Then everyone seemed to have those Electric Corning pots, you remember,

with the little three foot cords. We used one for years. They were dependable.

They had a heating element which rested inside the pot and was removable.

Somehow, when they went out-of-style, we became the repository for them--

gifted by people--- and have THREE. (Keep the cords curled inside the pots

or you will lose them.)

Then a miracle: Mr. Coffee came out with those cool restaurant-style-carafe

coffee pots. My wife's parents had one. We got one. Its problem was just

that---the coffee was too cool. Now if a person likes to sit and talk and nurse 

the cup and enjoy the miracle of being alive and talking, they must start---
with HOT coffee. We got our exercise going to the microwave for 40 second
visits all the way through breakfast!

In our 57 years of marriage, we have gone through probably two-dozen

coffee pots. Today, alas---the unthinkable has happened again. Our 

two-year-old carafe-style pot (who knows or cares what brand?) has quit.

A trip to Target is looming...the Beloved Editor is gone right now...

So...did we do without coffee? No sir! We simply dug out our old Corning,

the veteran of many earlier happy mornings...on the journey of life...

It is... our "Go-To" pot!

Ah-h-h, the elixir of life, once again!

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BY MIL

10/08/13

(I am dedicating this post to a dear friend, Ned Biddix, whom I have never

met, except through email.)  Coach, wish we could sit down over a...
cup of coffee!