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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!

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Comments

dive said…
That's not fair!

I was about to make a cup of nice しずおかの煎茶 green tea and now I've got to stop that and go across the street to the Brazilian coffee shop　(third time today) …

Oh, how you make me suffer!

Beautifully written post, though.
9:00 AM
Sassy Sundry said…
Coffee is wonderful. I am enjoying a cup of organic, Fair Trade joe from my French Press right now.
10:16 AM
adair said…
you make me wish I liked the blasted stuff just so I could be a part of the coffee-loving community.
11:37 AM
Scout said…
Well, Adair seems to be the odd "man" out when it comes to coffee. I failed to mention my love for chocolate covered espresso beans, but that's quite different than my love for joe.
12:54 PM
Neponset River Bridge Dig said…
ohh i look so foward to having my morning cup everyday. It's a treat to sit and sip. I like hazenut cream yummy..

"Let's have coffee sometime"
1:57 PM
Scout said…
Hi Rich. Hazelnut anything is a treat, but hazelnut coffee is a special treat--the only coffee flavor I can stand.
4:09 PM
Ms Mac said…
See now, I have to have a great big cup of black, unsweetened tea before I can even contemplate making a pot of coffee. Which is what makes life interesting, we're all different.
3:45 AM
Scout said…
Ms Mac,life certainly is more interesting because we're all different. Whether it's tea and coffee or politics, and the more time I spend with blogpals the more I find that to be true. I love that!
7:23 AM
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