Rain, Coffee, and the Price of OJ in OK

It is just after 9:30am on Monday. I have been awake since around 7:30am. That is when I heard the rain. Well I heard the dog whining because of the rain and then I heard the rain. I got up to let Choco inside because he really does not like the rain. I then started the dryer, filled the Brita reservoir, took a shower, and got dressed in that order. I put the dishes from the dish drainer away, washed the dishes in the sink, and started the kettle to boil the water for coffee in roughly that order. I brewed about 32 ounces of Yeman Harazi coffee in a pour-over filter carafe I have been using lately and I had a cup of coffee while listening to the rain fall and prepared to start breakfast. I realized we were out of milk and orange juice both. Well we had a little milk that expired two days ago. I do not chance such things. Drinking soured milk would ruin my morning and my morning was going well.

I do really like coffee, if you know anything about me, you know that I like coffee; I want something else when eating breakfast or other meals. Occasionally I can drink super hot and fresh coffee and eat a toasted turkey sandwich with provolone and mayo. Usually I want iced tea or a ginger ale with my sandwich though. I like to save coffee for after meals including breakfast. If I have good coffee, say a washed yirgacheffe or a Yemeni bean roasted within the last couple of days, it is detrimental to have food with it. The taste is so good on its own that few other flavors or textures would do anything other than diminish it. Sometimes I will have something chocolate with my coffee. This is when I am feeling particularly decadent and indulgent. Chocolate and coffee are two things I would saw off heads to protect. They are my precious. Yes I sound pretentious about coffee. I am pretentious about coffee. I will not apologize. I really like coffee. If you know me, you know that.

So I put away the eggs and bacon, did a quick check to make sure the bread was still good and went to the grocery store. What in the crap hell happened to the price of OJ in the Midwest? Apparently Al Gore was right and we are all doomed. There was a late freeze in Florida which means Tropicana can find out what the market will bear on a half gallon of squished oranges. At least the milk was on sale. $1.47 for a half gallon is a good price. It makes me wish I used more milk so I could save even more money. Yep. That's what consumerism has drilled into my head. Buy more to save more. Freaking brilliant.

I arrive back at the house and have coffee while preparing my breakfast of bacon, eggs, and toast. I enjoy a classic simple breakfast if I am the one cooking it. I have no problems digging on some swine as long as I do not see any horrible BK commercials with that flying damned pig while I am doing it. I drink a glass of liquid gold OJ with my breakfast and sit down to write this. What a nice rainy Monday morning. I still have the rest of the day ahead of me and I already feel like I have accomplished something. Now what to do with the rest of the day? There is literally nothing that I want to see in the theaters this week. There is a Cubs Pirates game on this morning at 11:30, but that is closer to watching old people have sex than it is to watch two good baseball teams play. I think I will clean house, listen to my Wilco Pandora station, and later read more of Nicholson Baker's A Box of Matches. The minutia can be stunning. If you read all of this, thank you. I am experimenting with some new approaches to getting the thoughts out of my head. Have a good day.

Memorial Day

I do not have many plans other than having lunch with Christina, doing an hour or two of work at work, and watching Tim Lincecum and Ubaldo Jimenez face each other this afternoon. It is shaping up to be a tremendous weekend for pitching . Roy Halladay threw a perfect game on Saturday and now the other two best pitchers in baseball are facing off today. Jimenez threw the first no hitter this year and Lincecum is just a freak of nature. If you have even a remote interest in baseball you really need to see this dude pitch.

Christina has to work today because the customer service industry never closes. Yep, we are always here to listen and to resolve our customers' service issues courteously and efficiently. You're welcome. She has also been asked to work at a classical music festival in Hot Springs on her off days. I am happy she has this opportunity and Arts Administration is her preferred field, but it blows that for the first 7 weeks this summer our days off will be different, and for the first 3 weeks of those she will not even be in the same state on her off days. That sounds a whole lot like whining. I will stop immediately.

I am planning some time off for next week, my birthweek. Yes, birthweek. I was born three weeks late so I think I should at least be able to celebrate my birth for one week a year. My delayed birth also set a precedent for the procrastination that has plagued my life. I will write more about that later. I am not sure what I am planning to do with all the time I will be off. I think I will mostly just hang out and decompress. Maybe sleep in, make breakfast, ride the bike, catch a matinee, watch baseball, cook something on the grill, and approach a sublime state. I wish I were independently wealthy and could take months off at a time. I think it would be hugely beneficial to my quality of life. I need to start playing the lottery.

A note for the holiday: For those who lost loved ones in the defense of our country, I cannot fathom your sacrifice and I pray that you will know peace.

Monday is Alright

I am off today. Unlike the majority of the working world, I have Mondays off. I take great care to keep my Mondays free. As a result of my days in the foodservice industry I have learned the value of not working on Mondays. It is like Sunday but the stores are open and are usually almost empty. Same with restaurants, movie theaters, and you name it. The nine to five Monday through Friday crowd does not go out on Monday.

I can catch up on any TV I missed from the previous week on Mondays. Or I can open up all of the windows and the doors and spin my vinyl record albums as loudly as comfortable as I drink iced tea on my porch. I do not have to worry about bothering people because all the people are at work.

I can act indignant if some functionary interrupts my day with piddly ass things that should not intrude upon my weekend, or I can take care of business and get a jump on the week. It's just like eating cake and having it too. It would be impossible to eat cake without having it. Mmmm cake. I want some. Back on track. I try hard not to abuse this Monday is my day off power I hold, but it goes to my head sometimes.

This is a couple of paragraphs about having Monday off. There is a lot more to it but I am going to cut it short. There is no baseball on until later today and I am trying not to be so obsessive about the game for a while so I have plans to catch The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo at a local not for profit theater then come home and listen to the games instead of watching them as I sip iced tea on the porch until the street lights come on. Sounds like summer.

Days like These

The good news is that at no time in the last 38 days have a found it necessary to use tobacco or nicotine in any form.

It's another Sunday morning and I will have the day to myself. Christina took an upgrade Team Leader position that was supposed to end on May 8^th but was extended. For the next 7 weeks she will be working a shift only a sadist could have created. She is working 1015 – 2100 with Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday as her weekend. Yes that means that every day is completely filled with work and that her off days happen in the middle of my work week. I don't mind having one day off that is different; I am pretty good at keeping myself out of trouble for one day each week. I can do things that make me feel like not only a self sufficient but also a productive member of society. For instance I can pay bills, clean house, take old clothes to Goodwill, wash my truck, and other busy work.

But if you give me too much free time I will do things that would probably be considered obsessive and/or compulsive like going to the movies each day after work, watching baseball nonstop including watching the previous day's games until the current day's games start, searching the internet for random quotes, song lyrics, esoteric trivia or whatever else pops into my head, checking Amazon half a dozen times to see if there are any good deals, and obsessing over my fantasy baseball team. I should do something productive with my time such as ride my bike or jog or finally let Christina put up her Bowflex so I can work out. I could read more. I could always read more. I am at least two lifetimes behind on my reading list. I could devote that two hours a day to writing that I have always promised myself I would. Instead, I stay conflicted between all the things I would like to do and the few things I actually do as the days pass faster than the hours, or so it seems. I am not quite this unfocused, manic or morose when Christina is here. She helps me keep on an even keel most of the time.

I hope I haven't harshed anyone's mellow. I am trying some self motivation here. I need more coffee right now. Then I will get this show rolling. I am not sure where though.

Under the Knife

I have avoided dentists with all of my might for a long time. I finally decided if that if I am going to be adding years to my life by cutting out the bad stuff, I am going to need my teeth too. So much for my original plan of living fast, dying young and leaving a good looking corpse. It worked about as well as using Y2K to get out of debt. Secretly I also wanted to be told I should give up coffee to keep my teeth white so I would have another reason to not trust dentists. Anyone who recommends that I stop drinking coffee will immediately go on the watch list and will not be trusted. My precious and I do not need them and will not frequent their establishments.

After some poking and prodding, and being hooked up to some contraptions that I saw in photos of the Spanish Inquisition, NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition, I get the verdict. The dentists points to an X-ray and tells me I should be in pain. I tell him that aside for some sensitivity to extreme cold I haven't noticed anything and I can power through a little tingling when I am eating ice cream. He doesn't even crack a smile. I have a dentist with no appreciation for self deprecating humor. He explains that I will be having a root canal on my next visit and directs me toward the person who will make payment arrangements.

This is not a practice with which I am familiar. Every other doctor I see just bills me what the insurance does not cover. These dentists act like loan sharks dealing with dead beats from the get go and will not even schedule the procedure without also making payment arrangements. While I understand and almost admire this trust no one policy of theirs, it also makes me want to delay payment for as long as possible. Let's stretch this thing out so I can pay it off with my pension. I am in no hurry.

That was a little more than a week ago. This past Monday I went in for the root canal. The last dental procedure I had was when I was 19 and had my wisdom teeth pulled by a Navy dentist. I do not remember that being so bad. I was awake through the whole thing, but my mouth was as numb as a stone. This was pretty much the same thing. The dentist was doing his thing with drills and whatnot while I had a wedge holding my mouth open and a dental dam keeping stuff from falling down my throat. The assistant and the dentist carried on a conversation for most of the procedure. I wouldn't say they pretended I wasn't there. It was more like I was there but I was only a mouth and completely detached so that the rest of me was not there. They even wiped stuff on the towel they had placed on my chest. I found this to be oddly intrusive and somehow borderline dehumanizing. Sure I am okay with them sawing up my teeth and pushing and pulling around in my mouth with sharp instruments, but wiping the debris on the towel they placed on my chest bothered me. Yeah. I'm a freak. I am considering waiting a month or so and seeing if I can refinance my payment plan. Maybe I can get a better rate somewhere else.

Computer Repairs

It has been a minute since I last posted, but I am BACK. I am still tobacco free and tomorrow it will be 26 days. I am really excited about that. Some days are better than others, but I still do not find it necessary to smoke about it.

What have I been up to since I last posted? Glad you asked. Among other things I have been watching baseball, reading Nicholson Baker, waiting for the new episodes of Lost, and catching the odd movie here and there. I have been unable to use my laptop to listen to music lately and I really miss that. Over the 3 + years I have had the laptop I have used it as a laptop which to me means I can put it on top of my lap; It seems that might not be the best thing for laptops because I have caused the power cord jack thing to become damaged to the point that it will no longer hold the power cord.

Well great I said to myself. I paid big bucks to get the warranty thing when I bought the laptop. It is about time I get to use it. Not so fast. I bought the 3 year warranty for some insane amount of money that if properly invested would pay for two laptops today. Maybe I am exaggerating there. Anyway a 3 year warranty, no matter how much you pay for it, does not work on a 3+ year old laptop.

From researching my predicament I discover that the power jack for this model is not soldered onto the motherboard and can be purchased new for around 30 bones. Lucky break I think. The only repair places I could find involved me paying closer to $150 to mail the laptop off with the promise of a speedy return. I was not thrilled with the idea of shipping it anywhere so I elected to perform the surgery myself. I had cracked the case on the thing before to clean the fan so I thought I could do this as well.

Meanwhile I was using a nettop computer which I got because my old desktops are far too old to not make me scream at them when I am trying to get stuff done. The nettop is super cool and super cheap. $199 bucks for a computer that will output 1080p, run Boxee, Hulu desktop, and Windows Media Center is awesome but the computer is not as portable as my laptop. The nettop came in handy to order the part to fix my laptop and to view the instructions on how to perform the surgery. But I am spoiled by the mobility a laptop allows.

The operation went mostly okay. The dining room has the best lighting in the house so that is where I chose to do the dissection, but my nettop with the instructions for taking the thing apart is in my office. The instructions were not in a printer friendly format and I did not feel like making them printer friendly or killing 3 trees printing them out so I just went back and forth between the rooms. After getting the thing into about 127 pieces, I was finally able to take off the old power jack and put on the new one. I put every last little piece carefully back together, turned it on and discovered the touch pad and the keyboard did not work. So I take it apart again, find my mistake, fix my mistake, and put it back together. Hallelujah. We have success. Apparently.

Later that day when trying to listen to some music, I discover that the laptop speakers do not work. They do not work even a little bit. Total silence no matter what I try. After some soul searching introspection I realize that I must not have reconnected the speakers the second time I took the thing apart. Damnit, damnit to hell. I do not want to take the thing apart for speakers if everything else is working perfectly and everything else is working perfectly. I have some cheap USB powered speakers on the way. The next time the computer is heating up and needs to be cleaned, I will reconnect the internal speakers. For now it is in stealth mode.

I really wanted to be able to boast of my prowess with computers and tools and fixing computers with tools and determination, but my mute computer mocks me every day. I realize this is an epic post and the story is not over yet. The laptop's internal speakers will work once more. If you are still reading, thanks for sticking with it to this point and don't ask me to work on your computer. I will mess it up. Until next time take care.

10 Days

I am on my tenth smoke free day. The cravings have decreased in intensity but not in frequency. I have more triggers than I realized, but that is to be expected I suppose. I have been a smoker for more time than I have not been a smoker and there are many things that remind me of smoking and give me the urge to smoke. Success has provided great positive reinforcement and motivation though. Each day does get easier. I feel my success at this point relies on me remembering to take Zyban. If I forget to take the medicine in the morning, my urges to smoke are more difficult to control. I only have two more months on the Zyban and then I am on my own. I think by that time I will be okay.

For those who are trying to quit smoking too, I really appreciate your encouragement and wish you success as well. Having a plan this time around has really helped me. A plan, coffee and some mild anti-depressants are all you really need to succeed in any endeavor right?

On an unrelated note I am reading Nicholas Baker's The Anthologist. So far I dig the way this dude writes. His style reminds me of Chuck Palahniuk if Chuck had manners and wrote about poetry and heartbreak instead of bodily fluids and sexual depravity. Finding a good new book reminds me of why I decided an English degree was worth 4 years of my life and a monthly student loan payment.

My cup is almost empty and a little too cold for my taste which means it's time for a refill. With that, I will go until next time.

Tobacco Free for 84 Hours and Counting

Yep. I am counting hours at this early juncture. I did not quit on 4/07 as I had originally planned because I had a half pack of cigarettes left and my addict mind would not let me give them up without smoking them. I managed to make that half pack last until Wednesday night at 7:30pm when I smoked the last cigarette I ever want to smoke. Thursday at work I was smoke free and in for some crap. I had forgotten that my weekly 1 hour of phone time was scheduled for that morning. I got through it okay and even fixed some people's problems to boot. Not too bad for having taken roughly 12 phone calls in the last 6 years. I am much better at supporting agents than I am at doing their job. The phone time was enough to make me crave a cigarette as if I were a heroin junkie in need of a fix. The only difference I see is that with cigarettes, everyone is holding. To make sure I knew what it means to really crave though, I got to sit through a crowded two hour state of the company meeting that afternoon. I couldn't think or see straight by the time that thing was over. I got through it though. I have not exactly been a dynamo at work, but I have managed to do my job and haven't yelled at anyone yet.

This morning Christina is asleep and I have the house to myself. I know that she keeps cigarettes in her purse. I know where her purse is. I am tempted to smoke one of her cigarettes. It will not happen. I am committed to being a non-smoker for the rest of my life. I owe myself much better than a regular intake of poison.

It occurs to me that billions of people do not smoke and do not have a problem not smoking. There is nothing special about not smoking. It is just like not being a crackhead, heroin junkie, or an alcoholic – there is nothing special about it. Most people are not crackheads, heroin junkies, or alcoholics. They do not get 30 day chips. They do not differentiate between belly button birthdays and sobriety birthdays. They simply do not take the substances. While I am glad that I am a beginning non-smoker, I am not special and this not smoking thing I am doing is not special. I am only not doing what billions of other people are not doing. Now if someone tries to get me to give up coffee, we are going to have problems. Coffee is special and people who do not drink coffee should not be trusted.

Who Writes about Nothing?

So I am poking around the internets listening to music and drinking coffee. I'm minding my own and not bothering a soul when I find this http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Noumenon. I defy a living person to explain what the hell this means. It appears to me that the person writing the Wikipedia entry did not grasp the concept either, but that is just the way I experience the phenomena or is it noumena? I read it a few times through and understood it less each time. Phenomena, noumenon what the freaking hell?

Here is the most succinct thing in the entire entry and the only thing that shows any promise of shedding any light on this for me. Noumenon is "That which is tangible but not perceivable, the reflection of phenomenon." The problem with this succinct explanation is that it appears to make sense, but does not in fact make any sense. Read it a couple times.

I am ready to start seeping brain cells out of my eye sockets. There is nothing that is tangible but not perceivable. Anything that you can touch, you can perceive. Am I right? The perception is likely wrong, skewed, bigoted, loony, biased, or how ever else your world soiled mind colors it, but it is perceived. We must then be talking about nothing when we talk about noumenon, and if we are talking about nothing, why?

A normal person might have stopped there. A normal person might have said "right then, it is about nothing. I see. Well then let's move on to something that is about something." Normal people don't live here. I kept reading. I thought maybe there would be another gem of a sentence buried somewhere in the mess that would make my dim bulb get bright. Why would anyone take the time to write so much about nothing? There must be something to it. Yeah, you know what I found? A bunch more nothing. I am banning myself from Wikipedia and all of philosophy for some arbitrary time period. That stuff just does not mix well with coffee and early morning.

Quitting Again

I am currently a smoker. I have been a smoker off and on again for many years. I believe I started sneaking cigarettes when I was about 14. I quit for a while when I was in the Navy and I quit for about a year and a half from age 25 through to almost 27. I wish I had never started smoking again after that, but I did. I eased myself back into being a smoker with cigars which led to black and milds which led to menthol cigarettes for some inexplicable reason. I had never enjoyed menthol cigarettes previously. If there is one thing above all others that I truly regret, it is that I ever started smoking again.

Since I started back on the evil evil things, I have been afraid to try to stop again. The few times I have tried I have given up quickly. I tried to quit with the patch when I was an intern teacher. That was a recipe for disaster. I would go all day without smoking which destroyed any clear thinking or concentration of which I was otherwise capable. The patches could not deliver enough nicotine to my system, or maybe my brain is wired to believe that if it doesn't come in the form of smoke, it isn't real nicotine. I don't know. I do know that I was so out of it by the time school was over each day that I had tunnel vision and could not function until I could smoke.

I made a serious effort to try to quit again in 2006. I thought I would be smart this time and go back to the doctor, tell my story, and see what she could do for me. Chantix nearly killed me. I will not go into details, but if you are trying to quit smoking, I do not recommend Chantix. I followed the instructions. My cravings for cigarettes never went away, and my world became a dark sad place - darker and sadder then I had ever known. It is not an experience I wish to go through ever again. If Chantix were the only way a person could lose the nasty habit of smoking, then I am going to be smoker until it kills me.

But Chantix is not the only way and I am not going to remain a smoker until it kills me. I am going to take back the part of my life smoking controls. I am tired of the feeling of needing a cigarette. I am tired of rushing through things so I can take a break and smoke a cigarette. I am tired of the stink cigarette smoke leaves on everything. I am tired of spending good money after bad money on things that are harming my health. It is time to quit for the last time.

I know I need help to quit smoking. The cravings I have for cigarettes are too intense to do this cold turkey without serious risks to innocent bystanders. My previous most successful respite from smoking came from the use of a product called Zyban. I learned later that it is actually an antidepressant called buproprion. Whatever it is, it worked like a charm. I followed the instructions and I no longer had unbearable cravings for a cigarette. The withdrawal symptoms were mild. I mostly remember being a little distracted and nervous for a couple of weeks. This past Wednesday I went to the doctor for an unrelated reason. While I was there I asked about using Zyban to stop smoking again. I was able to purchase a 30 day supply for less than $15. I have set a quit date two weeks from the day I started taking the medication. This will allow enough time for the buproprion to build up in my system. As of April 7^th 2010, I will be a former smoker.

Why Do I Wake up with a Song in My Head?

I have woken up to a song in my head most mornings for as long as I can remember. Recently I have started trying to find the song on Rhapsody and listening to it as soon as possible after waking up. I will sometimes post what I am listening to on Twitter to keep a record of the songs. These are not always songs I would typically listen to or that I remember hearing recently. I don't know an explanation as to how or why my subconscious picked the song for that day. I am not a follower of dream interpretation nor do I believe that dreams necessarily have a deeper meaning. I subscribe to the belief that dreams are just the noise the mind makes while it is downloading all the information it has been subjected to over the course of the day. I do not usually remember my dreams more than a few minutes after I wake up, but I do remember the music my mind plays. Sometimes it will stay with me through the day. I will consider myself lucky that my mind acts like an ipod on shuffle playing me random music to start my day. It is probably pointless to try to figure our why it chooses the songs it does. I would most likely be disappointed if I knew the answer. I will just enjoy the music if it is music I enjoy. If not, I will play some music I do like to drown it. After all, who is in charge here me or my subconscious mind? I am no Tyler Durden. I hope.

My Neurotic Dog

I am sure it is my fault that the dog is so messed up. I regret leaving my bronchitis inhaler where he could find it and eat it when he was just a young pup. The method I chose for house training him probably didn't help matters much either. Yelling at the top of my lungs, running at full speed to grab him and put him outside, and not letting him back inside for long durations probably caused some trauma in his early life. It was a very long time before he could see me and be able to complete a bowel movement - even if he was outside where such things were okay. I am also sorry that there were times in his formative years that I did not keep regular hours and he did not see me for long periods of time. I made sure he was fed and had access to fresh water, but I still think it scarred him a little. For instance, he will not eat his food unless I am home. He will go all day with a full bowl of food and even though he acts like he is starving when I get home, he will not touch the food until I am there. I believe this stems from his fear of abandonment.  I think he wants to make sure that there will be someone to provide him with another meal before he will eat the one he has. About abandonment issues, the dog must be near enough to touch me, if not touching me if we are in the same room. It is not good enough if I rest my foot lightly on him. He has to be the one with his paw over my foot or if he is sitting up, his full weight leaning on my leg. If he feels it is time to be petted, he will stick his nose under my hand and push up so he can be petted. It's nice that he is so self sufficient, but his nose is often cold and moist which can be unpleasant. He is independent when he wants to be. If we are outside and it is time to come in, he will make sure that it is not because I call him inside.  He asserts his independence by waiting approximately 60 seconds after I have given up trying to call him inside and have closed the door before he will scratch at the door and whine the most annoying whine he can manage. Yes, I let him in when he does this. When I open the door, he strolls in as if nothing's happened. I refrain from kicking him because I don't kick living things. He is lucky. There are a myriad of other neurotic behaviors he exhibits, but I am sure you have heard enough for today and I didn't even mention his demon eyes or his murderous hatred of cats and Frisbees.

Want to Get Away?

Lately I have been contemplating what it would be like to live in a remote cabin far away from other people. I am not necessarily a misanthrope or even antisocial. I enjoy other people immensely in small doses. I do my best to contribute to society and to not fuck up the part that I touch. I just really value the serenity or solitude. I think for a couple of months out of the year, let’s say 11, it would be beneficial and deeply satisfying to indulge my desire to get away. I think of all of the writing I could do, the routines I could fall into, and the bliss of being free from the restraints and obligations that life with other people imposes. I am not a big fan of Thoreau and what he did is not what I want to do. There are certain comforts that I require. Of course I would need some satellite TV and radio, some high speed internet, and a truckload of money to fulfill this dream. Dreams are almost always modified or put off indefinitely because of money aren’t they? The only legal ways I know of to get the amount of money required to buy or rent a cabin, ensure all of my bills are paid, stock the cabin with everything I will need, and cover the lost income during my disappearance is to either win the lottery, which I don’t play, or to write a bestselling something. I will not go into the illegal ways because I don’t want my blog to be used as evidence against me should it come to that, but let’s just say they are about as likely of happening as the legal ways. It is a nice dream, and maybe someday some version of it will come to be. For now, I will stay here with my satellite TV and radio, my high speed internet, a truckload of obligations and restraints, and my feet firmly planted on the wheel I must turn to keep it all going.

My Anti-Valentine Valentine for the One I Love

This is one of my all time favorites. David Byrne appears as a mad man mystic channeling messages from the universe. Of course each person who experiences this will have his or her own take on what Byrne is trying to say. That is part of what gives the song and the performance its genius in my opinion. For me the song is about getting lost in the day to day that kills our time and fills our lives(or vice versa) and not being fully aware of the life we are living. One day, in a moment of clarity, we look around and don't recognize anything about our lives. These things that surround us are not what we want, and worse than that, we don't know what it is that we do want. Once in a Lifetime we all have a choice to make while the days go by. Do we react to the alien life that we discover is ours? Will there be time to do this later? After all, time isn't after us. Time isn't holding us. In the present, there is no time. There is only now. So once in a lifetime is now and it is always now. Also, it is so much fun to sing along and have a good spaz out while listening to the song.

Vietnamese Coffee Time

I remember when I was a Vietnamese chef. Well, not really because I never was. I think it would have added some rich experiences to my life if I had been though. For one, I probably would have discovered Vietnamese coffee much sooner. For another, I would have a way to explain rapid weight gain. I have heard Vietnamese coffee described elsewhere as similar to melted Hagen Daz Coffee Ice Cream. I have also heard it described as liquid crack. I will not comment on either of those comparisons. It is very good though.

I have found two different ways to make this coffee. One is probably a little more traditional Vietnamese, the other a little more southern US. Both are very good as long as you use sweetened condensed milk. You can use either Trung Nguyen Vietnamese Coffee or Café Du Monde Coffee with Chicory. Both types of coffee are sold side by side at the Nam Hai Oriental Food Market along with the Vietnamese Coffee Filters and condensed milk. For those without an Oriental food market close, the filters are sold through Amazon as well as some other outlets. The Trung Nguyen might be a little harder to find, but it is worth a search. I purchased two coffee filters, 1 15oz can of Trung Nguyen, 1 15oz can of Café Du Monde, 2 cans of condensed milk, and 1 can of coconut milk for about $15 and went home and made some very good and some very bad coffee. The good coffee was made with the sweetened condensed milk; the bad coffee was made with coconut milk. I will say that I now appreciate the fact that I am not vegan and not lactose intolerant more than ever. The coconut milk does nothing to cut the bitterness of the Robusta coffee and frankly Robusta needs a little cutting. I didn’t try the Café Du Monde with coconut milk, but I do not imagine the results would be much better.

The drink starts with about 2 tablespoons of sweetened condensed milk in the bottom of each cup. Then place the Vietnamese Coffee Filters on top of the cups. It’s good to have one filter for each serving to avoid too much rinsing and waiting if you plan to make multiple servings. The coffee filter is a simple contraption that fits on top of the cup. It consists of a base that goes over the cup with the sweetened condensed milk, a reservoir with a perforated bottom, a gravity press that goes inside the reservoir (there are also screw type inserts but those were not sold where I purchase mine), and a lid that doubles as a cup rest when the brewing process is finished.

Place the base over the cup with the milk, place the reservoir on top of that and add coffee. Recipes vary here. I experimented and found two tablespoons was right for me. The dry grounds have a tendency to slip through the perforations. I stop this by adding a teaspoon or so of water before I put the gravity press on top of the grounds. Once the gravity press is in place, add hot water (about 200 degrees is good) slowly until it fills the reservoir then place the lid on top of the reservoir. Now the brewing has started. This takes about 3 – 5 minutes and if clear coffee cups are used, it can be cool to watch the dark coffee drip on to the sweetened condensed milk.

Once the dripping coffee has stopped, remove the lid from the filter and place it upside down on the table then place the base and reservoir onto the upturned lid. This will prevent coffee from dripping onto place it shouldn’t. Now give the coffee and milk a stir to mix. The color should be close to chocolate milk. The coffee can be served like this, or if preferred it can be poured over ice in a tall glass. I have not tried it without the ice because I really like it over ice. Robusta has about 40% more caffeine than Arabica coffee which makes this drink nice as a pick me up in late afternoon. I know I have a hard time stopping at one, but I have not felt the urge to pawn my TV to get more, yet.

Record Club: Skip Spence "Weighted Down" from Beck Hansen on Vimeo.

Beck, Feist, Nels Cline, Glenn Kotche, John Stirrat to name a few doing Skip Spence. If you haven't seen The Record Club work that Beck has been putting out, I think you'll want to soon. Good stuff. Do you self a favor while you're there and check out the Record Club featuring MGMT doing Suzanne by Leonard Cohen. Beautiful.

A Cup of Really Good Coffee

I want to talk to you today about a cup of really good coffee and how I make mine. I want to preface this by saying I am not a coffee snob. I will drink coffee at diners and truck stops. I will not turn my nose up at Quick Trip coffee. The fact is I like coffee. I particularly like to make my own coffee. I like the process of making coffee, and I like to savor the fruit of my labor. I will not say I make the best cup of coffee I have ever had. The best cup of coffee is such a subjective and ephemeral thing. The difference between the best cup of coffee and a cup of really good coffee can be as minute as ambient temperature, the cup used to serve it, or the mood of the person drinking it. The best cup of coffee can not be replicated. A cup of really good coffee on the other hand can be had every day. This is how I make mine.

I use a French Press most of the time. I have found that this method gives me the most control over the brewing process. The French Press is a very simple device that consists of a cylinder that holds the coffee grounds and the hot water along with a plunger that is used to separate the grounds from the coffee. One of the benefits of brewing with a French Press is that the coffee oils are kept with the coffee. Another benefit is that extraction by immersion allows for a rich and full bodied coffee taste. The coffee aroma and taste generated by this brewing process can be close to intoxicating.

Next you need to have some good quality beans and a decent grinder. I am using some Ethiopian Yirgacheffe and a burr grinder set for a medium coarse grind. The French Press I use holds 32 ounces of water which equals a little more than five 6 ounce cups. The rule of thumb is two tablespoon of coffee per 6 ounce cup. I have a two tablespoon scoop and use 6 of those for 32 ounces of coffee. I have big thumbs.

I have found it is best to use a coarse grind to prevent the screen in the plunger from becoming clogged. Too fine of a grind can lead to a clogged screen and more sludge in the bottom of the cup. I like to start grinding the coffee beans just before my water starts to boil. I use an electric kettle to boil the water. It is also a good idea to use filtered water to make sure all you taste is the coffee. The temperature of the water should be between 200 and 205 degrees. I let the water boil for just a moment then open the lid for the kettle as the beans finish grinding. I then put the coffee grinds in the French Press and let the water cool.

This will give the water the right amount of time to reach the proper temperature. At this point it is also a good idea to get a timer ready. I use the timer on a microwave. Brewing time is a personal preference and can be tweaked. I like to brew the coffee for between 4 and 5 minutes.

Once the water is added, I place the lid on the French Press with the screen just above the water level. Now I start the timer, wait about a minute, remove the lid, give a good stir, and replace the lid to allow the brewing process to complete. Now I wait with much anticipation as the timer counts down. After what feels like forever, I get to plunge the plunger. I do this slowly and with steady force. I try to be careful not to use too much force. Too much resistance means the screen is clogging. It is a good idea to stop if this happens, rinse the screen with hot water, and try again. As a side note, I have never had any trouble with the plunger not plunging properly, but I feel obligated to tell people to be careful with scalding hot liquid and thin glass.

Now comes the fun part. I pour a really good cup of coffee for myself and put the rest in an insulated travel cup to keep warm. If the coffee is left in the French Press, the brewing process will continue and the coffee will become bitter. For me a cup of really good coffee is a simple and fulfilling pleasure. Try it yourself and see what you think. It is time to sit down with some tunes and enjoy a moment or two of bliss.

How Did I Wind Up As the Grave Digger

My girlfriend has asked me to dig a grave for a friend's pet rabbit, again. Not exactly on my list of favorite things to do. How did I wind up needing to dig the holes for her friend's rabbits? Logical question isn't it? See if you can follow this. The most recent deceased rabbit is the offspring of my girlfriend's rabbit (a rabbit we believed to be male until it had bunnies). The other rabbit was this rabbit's sire. She gave both rabbits to her friend at the same time if I remember correctly. So naturally it is up to us to see that these rabbits' are taken care of when they go to the great prairie in the sky. I don't mind digging the hole, really I don't. I will do whatever Christina wants me to do within reason and some things without reason. I don't even mind the funeral service that will ensue tonight once Christina gets home from work. We will put the rabbit in the hole. Christina will say a few words, then she will pour out a good amount of beer from a 40oz Old English, take a drink herself and cover the hole with dirt. If I were still a drinking man, I would be appalled at the waste. I am not so I am not. I love the way she loves her, and her friends' animals. I like animals. I take good care of my d o g. I will be miserable for a long time when it is his time to go, but I have difficulty extending that to other domestic animals including rabbits. Pretty much anything that is not a dog or a horse. Maybe a miniature goat would be different. I don't know. I have never had a goat, but I could see myself as a goat person. Anyway, I am off to dig a hole. BTW, Christina still has her rabbit. Her name is Pepper. She is a cool rabbit and really likes Cheerios.

See What I Mean?

Like I Was Never Gone

I must be bored or procrastinating if I am here. I have been seeing who I can find online from my previous lives. Surprisingly many people I once knew have Facebook profiles. I have one, but I have not asked to be a friend and have not accepted any friend requests sent my way. I really do not see the value in using Facebook. You can email me, IM me, text me, call me, or if you want to get really old fashioned, you can drop by my house and have a cup of really good coffee if you want to catch up with me. I suppose Facebook, is that right or is it Face Book, don't care. Anyway, I suppose FB is meant to allow people that would otherwise not connect in real life either because of busy schedules, distance or, as I believe, an underlying lack of desire, to connect and seem civil and even social online. A bunch of phony baloney if I ever saw it.
On a completely unrelated topic, if you enjoy good rocking music from time to time, get your copy of Transference by the band Spoon. Do so now. I will be here waiting for you to pick your ass up off the floor.