Coffee makes my life better

Happy National Coffee Day (Sept. 29)! I’m not really sure who or what association has dubbed it thus, but I don’t need a whole lot of convincing to give over a whole day of celebration to my beverage of choice.

Most of my readers are aware of my obsession with coffee and my lifelong dream to one day own a café. What I’ve been thinking about lately is why I love coffee so much. There are a lot of reasons, but when you get down to the core of it, coffee has plain made my life better. I’m not even being melodramatic. Allow me to explain.

It was hard growing up in my house. I love both my folks to death, but when I was in high school my dad was addicted. My mom worked later than he did, so that meant that when I came straight home from school, it was just he and I. I was never afraid of my dad, but it wasn’t always pleasant to be around him without a buffer, like my mom. I got a car my junior year of high school and a weekend job. I no longer had to be at home right after school.

Enter the coffee house.

There is one place where a high school kid can go and remain for hours on end for only a few bucks. I found solace in cafés. All I needed was enough to buy an Americano and a bagel. I would sit for hours immersed in homework, SAT prep and whatever Truman Capote or Heidegger book I was reading at the time. I didn’t have to go home. I didn’t have to face uncertainty. Over time, everyone knew me, and they were happy to see me. They knew what I would order. Baristas became my friends and the hours I spent there stretched out. I belonged.

I truly believe that’s one reason I feel so at home in cafés and coffee shops. No matter what city or country I’m in, the local coffee shop welcomes me. It is familiar and it is safe and it is in my soul. I’m pretty sure that’s also why I want to open my own café. I love the idea of providing a haven that was so generously given to me.

The other way coffee has genuinely made my life better is the way it brings me into the present. I have a hard time staying in the moment. I don’t think that’s unique to me; I imagine a lot of people have trouble with it. Otherwise, Zen Buddhism wouldn’t exist, right?

Coffee is to me what wine is to oenophiles. I can tell you what the best origins are, what the acidity level is and how it affects the flavor, and my favorite extraction method. I drink it black so I can taste the different notes of the bean – bright, fruity, nutty, robust, bold, etc. I like to add flavors that play up those notes. My favorite is a soy almond latte. The almond and soy bring out the nutty quality of the espresso. Or adding cinnamon to an Americano. It brings out the spice.

My point is that when I’m paying attention to the flavors, my senses are sharpened. I take in everything around me – the air, the light, what’s going on in my life, my surroundings, how I feel. For example, this past Christmas was my first sober Christmas. And it was the first time I was spending it away from my immediate family or a boyfriend’s family. I woke up that morning alone in my apartment with my little Christmas tree, brewed some coffee and took my mug to the stairs outside my door. As I sipped, I let the moment set in. The air was crisp and cool. I was sober; I was employed, and I was single and happy. I knew I might never be there again – alone on Christmas, that is. And I savored it as I drank my coffee.

As silly as it sounds, coffee is a part of my soul for these reasons. I’ve stopped at different points in my life, but I always come back to it because it comforts me and it feels right. Besides, I was told caffeine was the only drug I could do in sobriety. Har har.

Anybody else got some good coffee stories?

You're Not the Brand I Thought You Were, Starbucks

There’s something that rubs me wrong about what Starbucks is doing lately. It’s not just the elimination of stores; it’s the constant promotions, the discounts, the free samples, the waffling between light roast and dark. Every time I see a new article on Starbucks pop up in my reader, I cringe inside.

Starbucks has become the desperate guy. The desperate guy caught up in the clingy downward spiral.

I’m sorry, Starbucks, I’m simply not attracted to you anymore.

You see, there are guys who simply have no game. They tell you they’re in love with you on your third date, they text message you constantly, and they become even more insistent when you don’t want to spend so much time with them.

This is where Starbucks has gone. Their marketing department could learn a few things from studying a little pick-up.

First, they made themselves too available. This is Dating 101, and perhaps it ought to be Marketing 101. With a Starbucks on every corner, the customer entered the OMG-I’m-so-in-love-with-you phase of spending all their time (and money) at their favorite addictive flavor-spot. And just like any extreme beginning of a relationship, the customer realized that they were spending too much time (and money) with Starbucks.

We just need some space, Starbucks. It’s not that I need to see other coffeehouses; I just need some time (and money) to myself… you know, to sort some things out.

What does Starbucks do? Promises you the world if you’ll come back, if you’ll be with me the way you used to be with me. Here – take some free frappucinos. I’ll give you Wi-Fi. I can change – see? A new roast! Please don’t leave me.

Ugh. Starbucks, you’re scaring me.

Suddenly, Starbucks is everywhere. On my TV, where it never was before. In my magazines. In my blogosphere. I’m surprised you aren’t following me on Twitter or MySpace to see who else I’m drinking… oh wait. You are.

I’m sorry, but you’re just not who I thought you were. You used to be so cool. You were there when I wanted you, but now you’re on every other interstate exit. You were above all that PR crap other brands get involved in. You had social status. A cup with logo clutched in my hand used to mean something before I saw every other person with one.

Take a tip from the dating world: Don’t make yourself so damned available. Have some confidence in your brand and stop trying to do whatever you think will please me.

That’s what made you so hot before – Podunk towns only had one or two locations and we would drive across the city to spend time (and money) with you. Now you’re up my ass. That is so not hot.