Coffee
Last week's description of Betty and Dad's disagreement regarding perked and instant coffee got some attention. Not surprising, really, because any serious coffee drinker has opinions about such things. First off, the disagreement wasn't so much about which is better but whether you could or could not tell the difference between the two. I side with Betty because they taste very different to me, though I can still enjoy a cup of instant from time to time.
Like a couple of you, I started drinking coffee early. Back in the 1960s and 70s, Moms weren't so concerned about everything their children ate and drank, at least my mom wasn't. I had coffee starting when I was twelve or thirteen with breakfast each morning. It was instant coffee and loaded with milk (and sugar), so as the saying goes, I had a little coffee with my milk.
My mom's parents drank coffee every morning and after their midday nap. Actually, there was a lot of coffee drinking in the McCoy house. All the adults drank coffee, and most of my uncles and aunts smoked a lot of cigarettes too. It was a different time.
I have fond memories of seeing my Great Aunt Cleo walk the short distance down the road from her house to my grandparents' house in the early afternoon. She would join in the coffee drinking and cigarette smoking while visiting. She would also often work the Roanoke Times crossword puzzle while puffing away on a cigarette. I think seeing her enjoy the crossword was the impetus for my love of crossword puzzles. I'm glad I copied her love of crosswords rather than her love of smoking.
When I started teaching, my coffee habit ramped up a bit, because that's what you do if you're a teacher, right? You drink coffee while you are keeping a close eye on the students during recess. If it's a good day, the cafeteria staff may have a sweet treat for you to enjoy too. Sometimes you meet other teachers at the communal coffee pot and exchange a few frustrations or funny incidents from the classroom. That's what it seemed like my teachers did and it's definitely what I did.
I think it was the summer of 1991 when Lana and I went to St Croix. Paula, a friend from my Brownsburg Middle School teaching days was living in St. Croix at that time and working in a Lutheran Children's Home there. My college buddy, Linda, joined us for part of the trip.
We were young and didn't care that our accommodations were a bit less than resort-like, okay, a lot less! I did, however, care very much that Paula didn't have a coffee maker or even a jar of instant coffee in the house. My head was splitting by the time we found a cup of coffee. Honestly, I don't even remember where we got that cup of coffee or what we did to support my coffee habit the rest of the trip, but I'm certain we worked something out, because I don't recall anymore terrible headaches.
The summer of 1993 was a travel-filled summer for me. Mom and I joined Lana and her mom on a short trip to NYC. Actually, we stayed in New Jersey because that's where Lana was being trained for the missionary trip she would be doing. Mom and I took a bus into NYC. We enjoyed a Circle Line Sightseeing Cruise before having some authentic New York style pizza. I'm still a little surprised we made it into and out of the city, because I did not know what I was doing. No coffee memories from that trip, but I couldn't leave it out of my post, because it kicked off two amazing trips.
On the way home from New Jersey, Anne, Lana's mom, and Mom dropped me off at Linda's house, the same Linda who was a part of the St. Croix trip. Linda is still one of the best friends I have. (Hey Linda!) She has done many nice things for me and one of the nicest was hosting Sharon and me for the evening, making us a delicious dinner, and then shuttling us to the airport the following morning. We went to Acapulco, Mexico. I wish you could have seen us as we danced and sang "A-ca-pul-co, A-ca-pul-co, A-ca-pul-co" over and over again before our trip. A couple of you did have to endure our exuberance. The rest of you should probably be glad you didn't.
The first morning in Acapulco was basically a repeat of the first morning in St. Croix. We were staying with a lovely family Sharon's family had become friends with through the student exchange program. We walked into the kitchen that morning and my eyes scanned the counter tops looking desperately for a coffee pot of some kind. "Ask if there's any coffee," I begged Sharon.
A jar of Taster's Choice was offered with a smile, but the green label, indicating it was decaf, mocked me as I tried to manage a smile and a gracias. On the inside, however, I was kicking myself for not packing a little jar of red label Taster's Choice in my bag.
I popped a few Tylenol and did my best not to ruin our first day in Acapulco. I didn't have to survive long without coffee, though, because when the parents came home for their afternoon siesta they brought the Mr. Coffee from their office with them. I guess I had not hidden my distress as well as I hoped. From then on, the strongest coffee I'd ever had was available every morning and anytime throughout the day. By the time Sharon and I boarded the plane to return home my addiction had been stoked to the breaking point. It took a little while to tone things down and start drinking a normal amount of coffee again.
The third and final trip of the summer of 1993 was to Germany with Linda. This post has already gotten too long, and I don't think there were any coffee deserts in Germany so I will save the Germany trip for another day.
I apologize for monopolizing the conversation with my coffee memories. I hope you found something to laugh about amid my recollections or perhaps a few memories of your own made their way to the surface of your mind. It is my hope that I will have something more meaningful to write next week but thank you for strolling down memory lane with me today.
"I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore, my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure..." Psalm 16:8-9
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