Coffee

I made a sleepy post on Facebook as I waited for my pot of coffee to brew.

Me: Yaaaaawwwnn. Why is the coffee taking so long this morning?

Responder: Try Mochatomnix, its better than coffee, has natural caffine

Me (slightly annoyed but trying to be nice): LOL- you are barking up the wrong tree with that particular one. I am a diehard coffee addict. I love coffee and would never try to come up with any replacement for it. :)

Annoying Responder (not taking the hint): I was too, until I had the Mochatonix, has 3 times the caffine, all I need is one cup a day

Me (a little firmer now): It's not all about the caffeine. I love coffee, enjoy my coffee, not interested in replacing my coffee.

Aggravating responder (either completely oblivious or just plain pushy): check this out: Primary Benefits of MochaTonix®: Promotes cognitive health•Promotes mental focus and memory •Promotes mental alertness•... See More


At this point, I was aggravated and told him I was not appreciating the ad pitch. I hate pushy sales people! Yet I digress…that can be a post for another time


What I wanted him to understand was something I could not express before that first cup or in the small amount of time I had before work. I spent my entire commute thinking about it (really need to get a recorder; most of my best thinking comes as I drive and cannot write it down).


Coffee is definitely my addiction. I drink far more than is healthy and rely on it to get me moving in the mornings. I fully recognize my dependence on the stuff. I simply do not intend to change it despite what the doctor tells me and my common sense pushes for. My story of coffee goes deeper than a morning wakeup or a chemical reaction. Coffee is just as much a part of me as my blood. Life without it would not be a life I enjoy.


My love affair with coffee began about 18 years ago. I was an introverted and anti-social, rather nerdy teenager who felt wholly confined by the restrictions my mother placed upon me. Typical, you say? Sadly, this was beyond the realm of usual mother/teenage relations and underneath an exterior of the “good girl”, I was a seething mess of rage and depression. I was spiraling downwards and on the road to nowhere good.


Friends introduced me to a coffeehouse they frequented. I quickly took my place in the world of coffee culture and I am certain this is where I found the strength and skills to stay alive in some trying times to come. Seattle Espresso was a place in which all age groups came together and found common interests. It was a regular occurrence to find college students discussing philosophy or current politics with folks long out of school and kids in the early stages of high school. The arts were a vital aspect of the “scene” with regular art exhibits, poetry readings, open mic nights and live music shows. It was vibrant and alive.


It was here I learned to step outside my self-consciousness and share with others. I learned I did not need to be the cookie cutter child I was molded to become. I discovered my own paths, made my own mistakes and learned my lessons. My mind opened to new ways of learning and living.


At Seattle Espresso, I lived through a very bad choice in a man and my life and made better decisions to follow. Friendships developed that remain to this day. My daughter and I went there to cool off on hot summer days while we waited for Daddy’s train to come in. She took her first steps from the coffee bar to the front door to watch life passing by on Main Street.


The day Seattle Espresso closed was one of the saddest in my life. It was like saying goodbye to a part of me. My husband and I bought the coffee bar and pot and used them until lost to a fire. Others claimed “their chairs” or their favorite random items. The menu boards are now in use at a great little place in Bethel called Molten Java, a descendent of the Seattle experience.


To this day, nothing has been able to fill the hole left in Danbury when Lezlie closed shop and went back west. Main Street has changed completely, the arts scene mostly dried up and all of us addicts are afloat in a sea of nostalgia and longing. Now we “meet” on Facebook and remind ourselves of what it felt like, those summer nights filled with music and energy. We meet at the diner or at home over cups of coffee and we laugh and cry and share our lives together. Coffee is embedded in every fiber of who we are. And this is why I cannot replace coffee in my life. It is just so much more than a morning pick me up.


But perhaps you had to be there.