The thing about coffee

The thing about coffee

My earliest memories of coffee are of my Dad getting up very early to go to work.  I was about four years old at the time.  No more than five for sure.  Back then Dad was an iron worker and he left for work well before daylight.  Once I awoke to the smell, I knew my hero, my Dad, was about to leave for work so I would hurry into the kitchen.  I would smell what I had imagined was this wonderful potion but was bitterly disappointed by the taste even though Mom would load it up with cream and sugar.   Truth was I did not care how bad it was, I just wanted to drink coffee just like he did.  It was a brief time of sharing that I will never forget.

 Later on, I really didn’t think about coffee all that much till I was in my early twenties.  I worked at a Hilton Hotel owned by a cheapskate who wouldn’t run the heater in the lobby during the winter.  Coffee was warm and kept my fingers nimble enough to do the night audit.  I met a great friend there whose name coincidentally was Hilton, no relation to the hotel Hilton, and I would drink my coffee as he drank his Earl Gray tea.  He was a very interesting person and became a great friend and even an accidental mentor in a lot of ways.  The coffee was a prop.  It was an occasion, once the complicated part of the night audit was done, we would chat over these warm drinks.

It was there at that hotel where I picked up black coffee for the first time.  We had cream and sugar but had to go back to the kitchen to get it and get out keys to unlock the fridge and it was just too much trouble, so I went from blonde and sweet to strong and black.  There was a fellow named David who also worked the night audit.  He was a family-friend, and he, Hilton, and I had many long conversations over warm beverages on cold quiet nights in that big empty Hotel lobby.

Learning to appreciate black coffee served me well when I was in the US Air Force working on the flight line in far away locations.  The coffee, shared with coworkers who were much more than just friends; brothers, was a special part of many of the shifts we worked out on the hard stands in the Philippines.

Now, as an old man, well!  The oldest I have ever been anyway at 56.  I find myself drinking coffee while I work…  As a drink…  As a boost of caffeine.  It seems I am going to fast to drink it for what made it so special so many years ago.  I no longer pour a cup, hold it with both hands for warmth and just enjoy the aroma and place I am in.  It seems I am no longer mindful of the coffee, the friends, and those special moments that are punctuated only by peacefulness.

Maybe this is a lamentation or maybe I just had to write it down so that I could remind myself that coffee is for friends.  The cup should be taken deliberately and not as something you do while you do other things.  We all need to slow down in our daily lives and have peace, coffee, and good friends more often.  So, be still, enjoy your coffee for the old friend it really is while you sit among your family and friends or all by yourself, and don’t be surprised if I call you to have a cup with me.

 

Tony Hines
April 28, 2021