Cybercolumn by Berry D. Simpson: Drinking coffee

Posted: 6/08/07

CYBER COLUMN:
Drinking coffee

By Berry D. Simpson

Every morning when I get to my office, I go through the same routine: I turn on my computer and enter the password so it can run through the boot-up process. Then I walk down the hall to the breakroom coffee maker, move the half-filled pot of regular coffee up to the second warmer and start brewing a pot of decaf . While I wait for the pot to fill, I stand around and crack some jokes or talk about books or movies or theology and then fill my black coffee mug (black mugs don’t have to be washed as often as other colors; in fact, maybe they never have to be washed) and go back to my office and enjoy my coffee and read my morning e-mails.

The first cup of coffee is the best cup of my day. I never stop for coffee on the way to the office, and if I go somewhere for breakfast, I usually drink a Diet Coke. I don’t drink a lot of coffee—at most about three cups in a given morning. I seldom drink coffee in the afternoons unless it is very cold outside. I don’t drink much coffee at home, since Cyndi doesn’t drink it even though she often offers to make it for me.

I’ve read that people around the world drink more coffee than any other drink besides water—400 billion cups a year. And a cup of Starbucks costs $16 per gallon, or in oil and gas terms, about $672 per barrel. Even at that price, 24 percent of Starbucks customers visit 16 times a month.People don’t drink coffee to satisfy their thirst. It’s too hot to drink quickly; it must be sipped. I guess it’s possible that with enough milk or cream or foam, coffee might become a chugalug thirst-quencher, but I don’t think so. Coffee, like tea, begs to be savored. It’s a social drink, a hospitality drink. Maybe, the fact that coffee is served hot means it can’t be rushed. It slows down the pace of life an gives us permission to talk and be together.

Most of the time, I drink coffee like this: (1) during mornings in my office, usually alone; (2) in the evening when I’m reading or computing—usually someone, usually Cyndi, is with me; in fact, I seldom make coffee for myself at home; I drink it only when Cyndi makes it for me; and (3) over a lingering conversation. I also drink coffee during business meetings, but that’s mostly to keep myself entertained and keep my hands busy. Like author Leonard Sweet, I associate coffee with conversation, even though I most often drink it alone. If I join Cyndi at a Starbucks, I usually drink tea, because the coffee they serve is a bit strong for my taste. Until lately.

Cyndi and I recently listened to a podcast by pastor Erwin McManus, and he talked about his love for premium coffee and why he likes it and how it should be brewed. He claimed that being from El Salvador gives him better insight into coffee. Maybe he’s right. He made fun of people who prefer fast-food coffee to Starbucks because “Starbucks makes it too strong.” McManus said they’d trained their taste buds to appreciate the lowest quality and not the best, and how sad for them.

Well, I thought: What if Erwin McManus himself finds out I don’t drink premium coffee, either? I’ve been posting my journal entries on a website sponsored by his Mosaic ministries, called Voxtropolis. What if McManus is bored one day and surfs around the various postings on Voxtropolis and starts reading my journals and thinks to himself: ”These are really good. Maybe I’ll introduce Berry to my publisher and feature his writing at Mosaic.” And he calls me on the phone and says he wants to come to West Texas to meet me and talk about spiritual stuff and bond with me as two hip writers, and then he asks, “So where do you usually go for coffee?” What then? What will I tell him? I only drink office coffee? Meet me at Whataburger? He’ll drop me like a cheap Styrofoam cup.

So, I am confessing that I’ve succumbed to long-distance peer pressure. I’ve started working on my taste buds, training them upward. I’ve been ordering coffee instead of tea at Starbucks, and I’ve added another scoop to my morning ritual when I make coffee at the office.

I still drink decaf, hoping to avoid the damaging symptoms of high blood pressure and all, and I still drink it black, without foam, or ice cream, or candy, or any other additives.

But I’m working on my taste buds, training them to appreciate higher quality and stronger flavor. Who knows, it may come in handy if I ever get that phone call from my buddy Erwin. And I’m beginning to enjoy my newly upgraded life.

Berry Simpson, a Sunday school teacher at First Baptist Church in Midland, is a petroleum engineer, writer, runner and member of the city council in Midland. You can contact him through e-mail at berry@stonefoot.org.