Oh No, Another Churn about Coffee

My fascination with coffee began at a very early age. When I was in elementary school, my cousin and I were at our favorite Uncle's house for Thanksgiving (or Christmas). It was mid-afternoon and we were playing cards at the kitchen counter - sitting on bar stools. Our uncle walked through and filled a coffee cup and my cousin asked, "How can you drink that stuff?" He replied, "It's good and it puts hair on your chest."

We laughed and then of course both had to drink a cup to see if it worked. Funny how years later I detest hair on my chest - but at the time we really wanted to discover if hair would grow on our prepubescent, smooth-as-glass chests. It didn't. In our adult lives though, both cousin Bob and I have been avid coffee lovers, due in part to that uncle of ours.

On day's like today, wet, rainy, dreary, and gray, I really enjoy the smell of coffee brewing in the house. Brewed with a dash of cinnamon, I'll add a half teaspoon of sugar to my cup and fill it. The steaming java aroma fills my lungs (and suddenly I recognize why cigarette smokers like smoking. Because if coffee lovers love the odor and flavor of coffee, along with the usual perk of caffeine that comes with it, why wouldn't smokers with their habit appreciate the taste and smell of a lit cigarette. I'll give them that much).

BUT. Combining the two just doesn't work for me. So many smokers I know smoke and drink coffee simultaneously. It's like a crack addicts crack pipe with a whiskey chaser, I suppose. Coffee and a smoke - pre-breakfast, mid morning, post lunch, mid-afternoon and before bed. I wonder if Maxwell House and Winston have every talked about a merger. In my view, mixing a cigarette's unique flavor with the rich taste of a dark cup of coffee makes my stomach churn. Smoking just is not something I could get caught up in. My lungs thank me. And I certainly appreciate the hills I can climb on my bike because I've got the lung capacity to charge it, legs pumping like crazy, and conquer it without dying of suffocation.

I digress.

Coffee. If only I could figure out a way to carry a hot cup of it when I'm out on the bike early on a chilly Saturday or Sunday morning. Until some innovation comes to bear, I'll enjoy my java AFTER the ride is over.

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