Jolt!

Sometimes there is just TOO much to post about. Recent disappointments, that tight pain in my chest, political debacles, kid stuff, and of course – my personal favorite – food. Let’s get on the absolute importance of a subset of my favorite topic of food – coffee.
Java, brew, joe, jolt, juice, cawfee, mud – you get the idea. Man – I can’t live without the stuff. And I need it black, bitter, and Titan strong – just like my women. Well – not really. I like the women a little differently. Woman. Wife. Ok, bad analogy.
What? No milk, no sugar, no nothin’? You ain’t going for the lattes, cappuccinos, and other frothy milky permutations? Nope. I’ll take my espresso with a little lemon rind, please. Make it a double. What’s that, Ms. Waitress? No, hold the plastic cows – no need for them to clutter my saucer.
It’s been a LONG time since I liked my sugar with coffee and cream. Oh yeah – it used to be light ‘n sweet all the way. Then I got into High School, and I weaned off the moo juice. But I needed that sweet stuff. I added the cane all the way to a certain hung over Saturday morning at Rutgers…
My dehydrated compatriots had the energy to brew a fresh pot to revive our apartment’s living dead, and I was quite happy to receive a hot cup without having to leave the comfort of the recliner. Alas! Mein freund had forgotten the sugar! Upon requesting some granules, my cohabitants turned upon me, as they were java purists, taking it black as their cold evil hearts…
With fire in his eyes he returned with my sugar – all of it. He rained down the stuff in my mug like a frenzied bezerker – it had to be about twenty spoonfuls – and they made me drink it.
Since that dark morning – it’s just like Mom likes it…