Whoops, Mr. Moto, I'm A Coffee Pot

I love coffee, I love tea
I love the java jive and it loves me
Coffee and tea and the jivin' and me
A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup!

Why do I love coffee? What is it about this simple beverage that draws me in at the mere sound of the word, the smell of the brew, the steam from the mug?

First, it's not so simple. Besides the growing and harvesting and roasting, packaging and shipping and brewing, if every step in the process of making this black gold is not completed to perfection, the thing is ruined.

This brew, this joe, this morning light from the highest angels in the vast heavens, touches every sense that I possess to experience the world around me. I hear the coffee pot perk it up, and I hear the hot liquid being poured into the cup (hot coffee truly does sound different from lukewarm coffee when it's being poured). I see the steam rising from the surface and the blackness of the swirling pool. I smell the distinctive scent of roasted beans--it's a raw and earthy scent that cannot be artificially reproduced. I hold the hot cup in my hands, better than any mittens in the drawer. And when I take that first sip, the richness of the roasted beans washes over my taste buds--the ones that detect salt and sweet and bitter and joy, all at the same time. No other food or drink can provide such complete sensory fulfillment.

When drunk alone, coffee is satisfying, but when shared with friends at a table in your favorite place for joe, coffee is even better. To sit in a room with chattering people, all thinking and doing and processing, all sharing the same space and the same experience--passing around the day's newspaper, griping about the weather, wishing they didn't have to get back to work--coffee gives you that. You could say that tea can provide the same social connection, but tea isn't as rough and tumble. Tea comes with rules and a sense of delicacy. And I don't think I've ever heard anyone wake up in the morning a little groggy, stretch, and say, "Ooh, I smell tea."

Morning would not be complete without a rich cup of well-brewed coffee. It's the punctuation. It's the period or sometimes the question mark. And on days full of confidence and assuredness, it's the exclamation point.

I love java, sweet and hot
Whoops! Mr. Moto, I'm a coffee pot
Shoot me the pot and I'll pour me a shot
A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup!