620 Express

I meant to write about the 620 Express on June 20th for no other reason than the date, but I guess I lacked enthusiasm on that day, or else had too much coffee. Anyway, "620" is the secret code for coffee, if you didn't know that, and it's also the time of day (AM and PM) when I see the time and tell myself, "Time for coffee," and also, "Time to get on with things, or get on with the next thing." I wouldn't blame anyone if they were over it, this endless talk about coffee, and onto more important ideas in their lives, but I'm a simple person and like rehashing the same shit that gives me pleasure. There is really no excuse to write about it, but the good thing is there are NEW PEOPLE all the time (360, 000 born every day!) and each one of them hopefully will get to experience joy for the first time, at some point, and before everything gets old for them everything will presumably first be new.

I read a humorous article recently with the title Maybe Just Don't Drink Coffee about how it's impossible to keep up with the coffee trends, and trying to just causes anxiety, etc., and it's funny while having good points, and ends by throwing its hands in the air and settling for a Diet Coke. Which is actually what a lot of people do. And everyone knows, right, that Diet Coke is Pod People Fuel? Well, now you know. Then I read another article (which I can't find now, but there are TONS of these articles out there) about how we should drink a lighter roast coffee at room temperature and all that. Far from being annoyed by all the reassessments of coffee habits, I am endlessly fascinated, because really, it's no simple thing, a simple cup of coffee, and you can follow your obsession if it amuses you, why not? Every time I stay at someone's house I seem to adopt a new coffee method. Even quitting altogether is sometimes attractive. The biggest single improvement in my life was when I switched to exclusively black coffee, no cream, milk, or sugar (though for awhile I drank hot coffee with butter).

"Speed is just a question of money. How fast can you go?" That's the sign at the auto mechanic in the first Mad Max movie. I think it applies to a lot of things, and of course I'd like to only buy the best quality coffee beans (grown and picked by blissful farmers) and roast it at home, only dark when it makes sense and not to hide inferiority. And then massage it into powder and cold brew it in a NASA vacuum simulator and enjoy it while floating in a sensory deprivation chamber. Most often, though, I don't even measure the grounds I throw in my Mr. Coffee, and then I just try to pound a few cups before I start screaming at car alarms and leaf blowers. Every day should be a miracle, but it doesn't always have to be a symphony. Sometimes it's just nice to know that I'm enjoying my cup of coffee—even if it's kind of crap—more than that guy over there, not because of the coffee, but because of me.