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Coffee and pipes

clown reading

I’m drinking a lot of coffee these days. Well, it feels like a lot, but it’s not really, one or two cups a day, but it feels a lot for me. Why do I drink coffee, black gold? I don’t know really. It’s not as if the taste is that great. I don’t drink the stuff out of the cans, the instant powder. It flies in the face of what coffee should really be about, it’s about the experience, the aroma, the texture. Yes, I guess the taste too.

Coffee sells because it bespeaks of downtime. We all like our downtime and I’m no different than anyone else in that respect. So that’s what coffee means to me. Downtime, relaxation.

If I was born forty years earlier, or even twenty I suspect I would have been a heavy smoker. Growing up I used to see men smoking pipes. They always looked very relaxed puffing away, considering what they were doing, taking their surroundings in. The only common denominator in my childish eyes was the presence of a pipe and a blue plume of rich smelling tobacco.

But now we’re all PC and health conscious and most of the happy pipe smoking men of my youth eventually succumbed to some form of smoke related illness. Or gave it up on advice of their doctors. The doctors were correct of course, but it sure looked relaxing.

I remember one man in particular who used to work as a digger operator. He would work all day with just copious amounts of tea and the pipe constantly in his mouth, simply moving through life exuding a state of Zen like relaxation.

We’ll stick to the coffee for now, forget about the nicotine in its varying formats and concentrate on the caffeine. Things always tend to look better through the lens of youth.

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