Tag: just goofing around

Winday’s Wandering Thoughts

The Starbucks lobby was locked. A sign said, “Sorry, lobby closed for maintenance.”

I considered Remix across the street. It was already busy and its seating had never suited me.

Back in the car, I headed to Noble’s on 4th, my other go-to place. I mostly mix it up between those two these months. My spouse has been campaigning for RoCo lately, so I veered over to East Main to hit it up.

I used to regularly visit RoCo. Named the Roasting Company back then I haven’t visited since BC; Before COVID. A small converted home, it was frequently packed. Outlets were limited and that’s needed for my power hungry laptop.

But my wife claimed it had changed. I trust my wife so I found parking and headed in.

She was right. Much lighter than it used to be inside, they’d added power strips screwed to the benches so outlets were plentiful. Not very crowded this day, either.

Classic rock played. Who can argue with Bowie, Pat Benatar, the Animals, the Mysterios, Stray Cats, and Pink Floyd providing background music?

A productive writing session was won. Of course, this is Saturday. Things change on weekdays. But it worked out today and I liked it, so I’ll try Monday. See if I have another good coffee writing session.

That’s what’s important.

3

Wednesday’s Wandering Thoughts

I enjoy being in the coffee shop and witnessing people encountering one another. They’re often so pleased, excited, or happy to meet. Short hugs are exchanged, and there’s often smiles and laughter.

Just a tonic for my spirits when I’m exposed to such joy.

0

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

It was a weird juxtaposition.

I parked in the coffee shop’s lot. A silver SUV battle scar from its travels had the front passenger door open. I glanced that way. It seemed like the SUV was someone’s home. A woman was in the seat, her foot sticking out the open door, as she painted her toenails pink.

I thought of multiple things associated with painting nails. To feel and look attractive. Or maybe to fit in. To seem normal to others. You know, norms, values, mores, judgements. Or carrying forward from the past, trying to remain that person they were.

Then again, I could be all wrong. Might be that they’re not living in their car. They could just be a traveler, pausing to get coffee, taking advantage of a break in their schedule to do their nails.

It’s the kind of scene that inspires questions and thinking about our life and society.

0

Someday’s Wandering Thoughts

Fall has slid into the interseason space called autmer. Autumn with summer flavors. Night is mostly when we feel autumn. The air has some cold chompers. And the day looks like autumn. But then the sun strikes and summer strolls in.

All this causes a hot and cold thing at night. We’re not running heat nor air conditioning. Windows are closed day and night, except for mid-morning and mid-evening spurts to freshen the air. I end up running hot and cold in bed and sleep with one leg and that half of my body out from other the covers and the other side keeping warm under the sheets and blankets. Whole Jekyll/Hyde thing.

It’s always my left side that is out, too hot to be under cover. The right side wants shelter. Feels like my body might be striving to create some overworked political metaphor.

0

Tuesday’s Wandering Thoughts

Confession.

I sometimes pretend to remember things that I don’t readily recall.

Like, a friend will ask me something like, “Do you remember when Magursky hit that home run in 1968 in the Dodger game?”

Honestly, I can reply, I was twelve, I don’t remember, I wasn’t much into baseball then, and the baseball I followed was basically limited to the Pirates.

But I know my buddy will insist on trying to help me remember. “Oh, come on, don’t you remember? It was the longest home run ever! Completely out of the park. You must remember it. Wait, was it 68? Or was in ’69? Oh, come to think of it, it might have bee ’67.”

I’ve been down this path. I know how the convo will go. Meanwhile, my brain has wandered off, singing the theme song to the “Milton the Monster” cartoon.

So I fib, and I say, “Yes! Of course I remember it,” matching his enthusiasm. “Oh, I’m pretty sure it was ’68 because in ’69 is when the Mets won the World Series, wasn’t it? Remember Tom Seaver and the Miracle Mets? And that was the same year Andretti won the Indy 500, remember?”

And he’ll answer, “Yes, of course I do. Andretti. Indy. Right.”

And we’ll go on happily like that, because that’s a small part of why we’re friends.

2

Sunday’s Wandering Thoughts

Thinking about my coffee evolution today in honor of National Coffee Day.

I began drinking coffee when I was around twelve. Maxwell House. *shudder*. Only drank a cup at a friend’s house once in a while, loaded with sugar and cream. I stopped doing that before I was fifteen and didn’t resume drinking coffee until after I was twenty. Leaving the military after my first enlistment was up, I bought a restaurant and ran it while going to college, so I drank coffee, but not much. I remained indifferent to it.

I re-entered the military. Working night shifts, I would nuke the leftover cold coffee from the huge office urn and doctor it with sugar. Nasty stuff.

Wasn’t until my NCOIC, Bob Totten, and my buddy, Jeff, at Kadena AB, Okinawa, Japan, that I really became a coffee drinker. I was working as a back-office warrior by then as the Command Post training NCO. Bob would invite Jeff and me to informal staff meetings at the Base Exchange cafeteria upstairs. Even then, I didn’t think much of coffee. But I was going to school and evolved into drinking it at home as I geared up for evening classes.

Then I discovered ‘good’ coffee. I found that I like French and Italian roasts best. I didn’t like cream or sugar in my coffee. I bought my beans and ground them myself. I only made sufficient coffee for my needs and only drink fresh coffee.

Of course, by then, I couldn’t stand our military office coffee. Too weak and American for me.

At subsequent assignments, I would take over our office ‘coffee fund’. Darker roasts, better coffee markers, and better brands were my requirements. I levied that on the rest. My offices in Germany and California became known as a good place to get decent coffee.

Field conditions were horrible for coffee, of course. Weren’t no good brands out there. Gird my loins and quaff the evil brews available to fight the cold off or endure the heat. Bad coffee, bad food, bad sleeping arrangements, and nasty latrines – holes in plywood in tents.

Retiring from the Air Force, it was the same sort of thing as I went to work for civilians. Except I ended up working with an engineer, Janet, who liked yet stronger coffee. She used to complain that my coffee was too weak! I was appalled. By then, I was in the SF Bay Area, purchasing Peet’s coffee and bringing it in, making my own pot. Of course, people other than Janet liked my coffee, so there were often several brews going besides decaf.

Eventually, I was working for IBM, but remote, working from home. My wife and I saw a Keurig at Costco and purchased it. For a while, I continued making my coffee using beans, a grinder, and a drip style coffee maker as I didn’t like any of the pods that I tried. But then I tried the Costco SF Bay French roast pod.

That worked, and that’s where I’m at now, drinking that at home in the morning. When I was going out to write at The Beanery for several years, it was a different story. I drank a nonfat double Mexican mocha for my writing. Alas, The Beanery went away. Now, I order Americanos wherever I go. I like espressos but they’re consumed too fast. The Americano works.

And that’s my coffee tale. It’s been a grind. Happy Coffee Day.

2

Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

My wife chastised me for ‘using too much soap’ when I was cleaning the cat’s bowls.

I apologized, having been unaware the restriction existed. Ignorance is not a defense, of course. I await my sentencing.

3

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑