Percolator 101

Have you noticed that coffee has become an obsession with Americans? Sure, compulsive coffee drinkers have been around since the first Luwak (Civet-cat) pooped out those little coffee beans in Indonesia and someone thought, “hey, I bet that will taste good ground up and dissolved in hot water!” Actually, most people can’t afford that coffee. It’s special. It sells for around $300 a pound. But the beans that haven’t been selected for consumption by small rodents are still very popular.

Nearly every television program now shows a character purchasing coffee, drinking coffee, or talking about drinking coffee. It’s similar to the portrayal of alcohol consumption on TV back in the sixties, only worse. Just watch NCIS and you will see ads for Starbucks in nearly every scene. Gibbs has to have a cup of coffee in his hand or he can’t function to solve a case.

Have you read a book lately that doesn’t mention drinking coffee? I haven’t. I just finished a novel that had the characters spending more time in coffee shops than tracking the serial killer stalking their town. I guess a strong cup of java is the quickest route to solving a mystery. And of course, cops have been known to live on coffee and Rolaids. The resulting ulcer keeps them on their toes and makes them better at their job.

I didn’t start drinking coffee until I turned forty. And no—it wasn’t so I could stay awake past eight p.m. I think it was peer pressure. My husband finally broke me down. The problem is, I like sweets with my coffee. A little bitter goes especially well with chocolate, cake, donuts, or pie. I’m just glad I didn’t start this habit back in my twenties or I’d probably be four hundred pounds by now.

Coffee can be addictive. I don’t even know why I make a pot every morning. I tell myself it’s just to run fresh water through the Bunn. Wouldn’t want the tank water to get old and over-heated…or something. It’s not that I drink a whole pot, but it’s there…just in case I need it.

In the last few years, many of us have been turned into coffee snobs by coffee shop propaganda. First, those liberal west coast beatniks brought their Starbucks to town, selling caffeine fixes on every corner as readily as coca-cola. Others soon followed. Caribou, Dunn Bros, and many more. Bookstores decided to get in on the fad, selling uppity roasted bean juice to customers who sit around reading poetry or memoirs about people with really sad childhoods who grow up and open their own coffee shops and practice meditation while high on caffeine.

Do you turn your nose up at Folgers or Maxwell House, and only buy flavored, specialty brands? Is the coffee that your parents drank not good enough for you? Can you hear “it’s good to the last drop,” “fill it to the rim with Brim,” or “mountain grown for better flavor,” without your lip curling in derision? If not—then you are a coffee snob.

There is only one sure cure for addictive, snobbish coffee behavior. You may need a coffee enema to rid you of this problem. I hear it’s all the rage in Hollywood.

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