Month: November 2007 (Page 2 of 2)

Where do you stand on the refill? The refill typically occurs at breakfast and is considered a sign of an efficient server. Personally, I do not want the “secret sauce” of my coffee mixture (86.473% coffee / 13.256% half and half / .271% Splenda) altered by the illicit introduction of fresh, black coffee. The result is a warmer, but just not the same cup of mutated coffee. Do you want to drink mutated coffee? Of course not.

Refill recovery from this jolt is possible, but tricky, dangerous, and not for the jittery. The first repair involves carefully raising the half and half ratio back to 13.256%, but who’s kidding who? I’m not Enrico Fermi, nor am I working with a graduated cylinder, so the goal is short of elusive coffee fusion, and simply to approximate “my color.” Once in a while I’ll nail it, but most of the time I’m probably drinking a sub-par 12% cup. Now there’s adjusting the level of sweetness. My patented formula never involves a whole Splenda pack and the conservationist in me wants badly to perform this chemical gymnastics without sacrificing another poor Splenda. I wouldn’t want the “Save the Splenda” nuts after me. Since my formula requires exactly 92.6% of a little yellow envelope, the remaining 7.4% goes in the mix. Next there’s the single turn of a tea-spoon (Hey, is it still a teaspoon when you’re drinking coffee?) and the tentative taste test.

[This is a commercial break to tell you I’m listening to Wilco’s “Handshake Drugs” from their live “Kicking Television.” To borrow a quaint little phrase from Megan and whatever culture it is she lives in, “Wilco is the shit.” Come to think of it, I have yet to ask Madison what she thought of that Wilco show she attended with her mom and me in June.]

The taste of mutated coffee is, well, a decaffeinating experience, not the exhilarating rush of that first sip at home each morning. You know. Yes, you do. Some mornings you just nail it. It’s the moment your brain smiles at the notion you concocted just the right amount of pulverized beans, water, and complements of choice from the Periodic Table of Java Elements. That’s the start of a good day and no one is going to spoil it with an unauthorized refill.

Now, back to our commercial programming of some robust mid-tempo rock…

There’s something about it. Maybe it just conjures up the aural imagery of the GnR song (or its images of Stephanie Seymour), but regardless of why, my world is soaking in it today. It wasn’t an ideal day for errands, but there’s a plane to catch and a family that will thrive (and eat) while I’m gone, so I spread breadcrumbs at the bagel store, Macy’s, Home Depot, the grocery and the dry cleaners. Counting the aftermath of bringing all the booty into the house, my Saturday stops included 22 trips back and forth to the car. There’s no way my body dodges raindrops, so I caught a few. They were cold, but not stinging. The stinging stuff is still aging in oak casks for winter whipping. The droplets felt good on my face, but now they’re not so appealing between the weave of my pullover.

Many of today’s treks were fruitful, although the only fruit involved this day were a dozen or so fruit-fly infested apples past their prime that subbed as Tom Brady aerials from my deck out into the woods. I’d say my passing accuracy was far less than the 74.2% Mr. Brady takes into Indy tomorrow, and my “receivers” were barely swaying.

Oh, bargains. Macy’s was having a huge sale, plus I had a 15% off card. Pants… shirts… Red Sox “2007 World Champions” hat for Dad… Done. I entered Home Depot in search of a 4’ pressure treated 4×4 which would have cost me over $12 (they only sell 8 footers), but left instead with 3-5’ 2×6’s from the “scrap” stock for $3.03! Finally, on my last stop at the drycleaners I was informed I had pre-paid for my shirts. Nice.

Yeah, the material is wanting today.

If all goes well, I’ll be in the Sports Book at the Venetian with some work pals by kickoff for tomorrow’s Pats-Colts tilt. I expect another statement game by the Pats and the end of Indy’s short run as the best team in football.

WTF happened to October? The 50th of my favorite month of the year has passed and now it’s time to begin dressing in layers, getting through “the winter seasons cruel embrace*” and looking forward to Spring Training. November will be busy. I’ll be in Vegas for our annual customer conference and will venture to Gotham City for an encore viewing of “Mary Poppins” for Kyle’s 16th birthday… Thanksgiving at Mom’s…

October was a blur because so much happened:

• A child was born
• Two holes were cut and one was a whopper. One hole disappeared.
• A palatial estate in the form of a crib was an investment
• Over 20 PowerPoint presentations were prepared. 3 were given.
• Frequent-flyer miles were accumulated
• 49 candles blazed
• The Patriots won 4 more ballgames
• The Sox won 11 in the post-season
• Many doctors were consulted
• I lost a Lexus… at least on paper
• A birthday card from Kyle said, “You’re my best friend.”

* From William Topley’s “Drink Called Love”