Coffee is the elixir of life

 I once had a life before coffee, but now I have no life before coffee.

Like many people, I drink a cup of coffee first thing in the morning. Then I have another. And another. I usually have three or more cups under my belt before I go to work. That’s where the serious drinking begins.

Yes, I am totally addicted to coffee. Don’t judge me. I really don’t care how good or bad it is for me. I know I like it and I can’t do without it. I like my coffee hot and black. No cream or sugar, just plain bean juice. And for Heaven’s sake, don’t try to pass off any of those fru-fru drinks with funny names by me.

I come from a family that measures coffee consumption, not by the cup, but by the pot. When I was a kid I hated coffee. It smelled bad and was very bitter. Being around it so much, I decided to try it when I was in my teens. I wanted to know what my parents were so enamored with.

I started out by loading my java with lots of cream and sugar. Prepared that way it wasn’t such a bitter pill to swallow. I found myself being sucked in by the magic bean. I didn’t want to become a slave to it like my parents, so I decided I would wean off the bean by doing away with the cream and sugar. Certainly the bitter taste would turn me off, right? Ha! By then it was too late.

For most of my life Folgers coffee was my regular poison but Maxwell House was my favorite. During the summer months while I was in college, I worked at a Boy Scout camp that served Chock Full o’ Nuts brand. I still have cravings for it and drink it when I can.

I usually got my first few cups at breakfast in the camp dining hall. My morning routine from there was to go to the site where I taught wilderness survival, start a fire, and set a pot of coffee on it to percolate while I taught my first class. By then I could serve coffee by the slice and friends would come by to have a bite.

The camp had old Army surplus mugs that they let us have and I kept mine with me wherever I went. After all, you never know when a coffee emergency will arise. I don’t know what kind of material the cup is made out of, but I once dropped it off the side of mountain by accident. I found it later, unscathed. I still have it and use it on occasion.

Coffee and I have come to an understanding over the years. As long as it keeps me awake, I’ll keep drinking it. A day without coffee is like … who am I kidding? I don’t know what a day without coffee is like. I imagine it involves a lot fewer trips to the restroom.

I was the kind of person who could drink a cup of coffee before going to bed and zonk right out for the night. That’s changed in the last few years. Now I need to stop my caffein intake around dinner time. That was a hard lesson to learn, but it wasn’t the most painful lesson coffee has taught me.

That lesson came at the end of my first semester in college. I was planning on pulling an all-nighter to cram for three finals I had on the next day. I drank a pot of coffee, had a couple Jolt Colas, and popped some NoDoze. I was wired all night long and through breakfast. When I got to my first final at 8 a.m., the caffein wore off and I crashed – hard!

Since then I’ve had a great level of respect for the mystical powers of the almighty cup o’ Joe. Like I said, we understand each other. I’ve also come to understand that not all coffees are equal. As America’s obsession with coffee has grown in the last 30 or so years, different varieties and qualities have emerged.

You really can’t talk about coffee without mentioning Starbucks. The company made the coffee shop industry what it is today. I’m not a big fan, but I won’t turn down a steaming mug.

When it comes to the black elixir of life, the most exotic kind that I’ve had is Kopi Luwak. The wild palm civets of Indonesia eat ripe coffee cherries and the beans are collected from their droppings, cleaned, and roasted. My father-in-law was gifted some while on a mission trip, and we enjoyed a couple of cups after he returned.

More recently, my wife discovered that most of the world’s supply of coffee comes from plantations where they are covered in pesticides that make it into the final product. She has recently started buying me organic coffee from Ethiopia. Not only is it much healthier, the aroma is enticing and the taste is great.

Each morning now I eagerly awake to a fresh pot of organic Ethiopian coffee and the gift of life for another day.