Skip to main content

Morning Coffee

In this episode, Morning Coffee . . .

Now, I’m not saying everyone needs coffee. Some folks get by just fine on, I don’t know, sunlight and positive thinking. Me? I’m pretty sure I started drinking the stuff sometime around the Reagan administration.

Reading John Gierach’s "Ode to Campfire Coffee" in Trout Bum (a book that should be required reading for anyone who sees sleeping on the ground as recreation) got me thinking about how we’ve managed to complicate something as fundamentally simple as boiling water and adding grounds.

Taste, you say? Look, black coffee is an acquired taste, like tequila or cilantro. I just don’t get it. Gierach, bless his heart, mostly drinks his java streamside, probably while wearing wool socks and waders and contemplating the mysteries of the universe. As for me? My outdoor coffee experience is a bit different.

Picture this: the High Sierra, where campfires are banned (to avoid agitating Smoky Bear), and I’m huddled over a Whisperlite, coaxing ice-cold lake water to boil in a titanium pot. And here’s the kicker—the part where the coffee snobs gasp and clutch their French presses: Instant. Yes, I said it. Instant coffee. Lightweight, packable, and vaguely reminiscent of real coffee. I complement this culinary masterpiece with pilfered powdered milk from my hiking buddy and a sugar packet (one for each morning because I’m a planner). It’s a far cry from a streamside brew, but it gets the job done.

Back in civilization, my coffee routine is a study in efficiency. 4:30 a.m., the witching hour, finds me brewing a pot for the long-suffering Mrs. For her, coffee is a necessity, a jumpstart to consciousness. For me, it’s more a digestive. Plus, there’s something civilized about sitting in my easy chair, warming my hands on the mug, and reading a book while the outside world is dark. My process is beautifully simple: electric coffee maker, five teaspoons of Trader Joe’s blend (nothing fancy, I’m not a coffee snob . . . mostly), five and a half cups of water, push the “brew” button. Done!

But then–Tucson happened. We took a vacation, and Robert decided it would be a good idea to teach me how to use his espresso machine. A real espresso machine. Suddenly, my simple five-teaspoon operation seemed . . . quaint. There was preheating involved, and grinding beans (with a burr grinder, no less), and tamping, and locking, and extracting. It was like launching a rocket! The lattes were delicious; I have to give him that. However, the entire process felt . . . excessive. I watched my barista’s demonstration, nodded politely, and quietly stepped back, worried I might break something.

So, yeah, Gierach’s essay got me thinking. About the lengths we go to for a caffeine fix. About the difference between necessity and ritual. And about how, sometimes, the simplest way is the best way.

Now–if you’ll excuse me, I hear my coffee maker calling. It's a simple call, the call of the "Brew" button. And I intend to answer.

I’m Patrick Ball, reminding you to stay curious and ask questions. See you in the next episode.

Bonus–my favorite funny morning coffee story.

Labels:

Comments

Patrick B. Ball said…
Thanks for the link to the Sinatra song, I've never heard that one before.
February 21, 2025 at 9:42 AM
Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

Believing Is Seeing

🎄 In this episode, Believing Is Seeing . . . It's December, we bustle, we wrap, and we dash. We sort life into boxes— myths  here,  to-dos  in a stash. We whisper of Santa (adult code: “Not Real”), but hold on one minute—let’s rethink this whole deal. For the stories we cherish, the movies we stream, hold more truth in their sparkle than we grown-ups may deem. So hop in this sleigh and hold on real tight— We’re chasing down Santa by the glow of his light! Scott Calvin once landed in the North Pole’s cold air, with elves, cocoa, and snow everywhere. He squinted and frowned—“This just  cannot  be so!” (Like thinking tangled lights will detangle if we  blow .) Then Judy the Elf gave a cocoa so steaming,  and said something simple . . . yet surprisingly gleaming: Seeing’s not believing—no, that’s not the key. "Believing is seeing!"   Just trust, and  you’ll  see!” Kids don’t need a map or a satellite screen to know Santa’s workshop is her...
1 comment
Read more

Night Before Christmas

I n this episode, Night Before Christmas . . .  (In the spirit of Edgar Albert Guest) I’ve wrestled with the tangled lights the way I always do— With just enough patience left to see the project through. I climb the ladder carefully; the years have taught me how. To take my time with every step and keep a steady brow. We hang the faded ornaments I’ve known since I was small, the chipped, the cracked, the tilted ones—I love them best of all. Santa’s lost a bit of paint, the stars’ leaning right, but oh, it casts a holy glow across the room tonight. The kitchen hums with activity, with laughter, and with cheer, as voices drift like echoes from a long-forgotten year. The floor is strewn with paper scraps, the clock is ticking slow, As Christmas finds its own sweet pace and sets our house aglow. The hallway grows a little still; the lights are dimmed, and low, Small shoes are lined in messy pairs to wait for morning’s snow. The fire's warm, the room is full, the world is deep and wide,...
2 comments
Read more

Stamps and Snow

In this episode, Stamps and Snow . . .   You don’t usually walk into the local Post Office expecting a time warp . . . but here we are. All we wanted were stamps for this year's Christmas cards— yes, the old-fashioned paper ones that require licking, sticking, and hoping the Postal Service is feeling ambitious this week. But holiday errands have a talent for slowing you down, almost like the universe whispering, “Relax. You’re not getting out of this line any faster anyway.” So we waited. And while we waited, we talked (Are you surprised?). Because the Post Office is one of the few places where people still look up from their phones long enough to talk . . . Maybe it's because they're holding packages. It’s the modern town square: part civic duty, part free entertainment, part sociology experiment. The discussion began with holiday specials streaming on Netflix, Paramount+, and other services during this time of year. One gentleman who has lived in Vista since 1958 told us,...
3 comments
Read more

Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way

🎩   In this special episode. How to Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way It’s 2026! Yes— this is the year! A different kind of start—you feel it right here? No lists! No demands! No fix-all-your-flaws! No “New You by Tuesday!” No rules! No laws! Those resolutions? Bah! Dusty and dry! We’ve tried fixing everything —so let’s ask why. Why rush and correct and improve and compare, When noticing quietly gets you right there ? So here’s a new project—no charts, no clocks, No boxes to check in your mental inbox. It’s bigger than busy and smaller than grand, It’s called Un-Working —now give me your hand! Un-Working’s not quitting or hiding away, It’s setting things down that shout “Hurry! Hey!” The hustle! The bustle! The faster-than-fast! The gotta-win-now or you’re stuck in the past! That’s the work of Un-Working— plop! —set it free! The titles! The labels! The “Look-At-Me!” The crown that kept sliding and pinching your head— You never looked comfy . . . let’s try this instead: Pick up a tel...
Post a Comment
Read more