Simple answer: "'Cause I can."
That sounds bad, but it is all so true. I like my coffee hot, dark, strong, bitter and with a complicated but "fancy" name. Somewhere in my head a voice is saying "like I like my women" but that could get me into ALLLLL kinds of unnecessary trouble.
Born and raised in Atlanta, schooled in a college town, and "legally educated" in Birmingham, one can become accustomed to certain privileges, amenities, conveniences, or perks. Having gourmet coffee readily available is just one of those things you come to appreciate in "the big city."
This is not intended to be snobbery, just a realization that, when watching the Food Network, the selections of ripe goat cheeses are a bit limited at the Piggly Wiggly on Red Bud Road. In the realm of seafood, "fresh" is a generic term meaning flash frozen and placed in a box at the source before being shipped in refrigerator trucks for weeks to the Food Lion. On occasion, fine wines are not even an option at Walmart, where rather than distinguish by region, varietal, or even appellation, instead the magic of the grape is segregated by Red, White, and Other.
Oh the woes of the big city boy transplanted into rural northwest Georgia these last 13 years.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I like to be extravagant and taste cultural allurment and culinary alchemy without having to drive all of the way to Atlanta or Chattanooga.
On occasion, just the whiff of finely roasted Sumatran beans can give my mind the chance to day dream of being some high priced, silk stocking attorney who has an office located in some Buckhead high rise on some obscenely numbered double digit floor. A time where my spouse has the election of staying home in our 5,000 square foot home and the children are gaining their education in a uniformed private institution. Where one of my most important daily decisions is whether I chose from one of my 50 or so finely tailored suits, or simply dress down and take the convertible to work. Where lunch alone generally requires a reservation made by my very own, attentive personal assistant.
Life is a real bitch MOST days, and that is the god's honest truth. We have our little moments, but in the long run, each passing of the sun, each rising of the moon, each complete rotation of the planet generally brings forth an entirely new set of challenges to add to those that did not resolve themselves in the day now exhausted. You have to find joy and solace where you can, and that is the way to simply deal and survive. This respite can be the laugh of your five year old, the sound of your eight year old acting out her own cooking show in the basement, or merely the gentle touch of your partner, spouse, and best friend's hand while driving in the car.
These are the things that idiots like Suze Orman don't comprehend. The soul needs its brief escapes from the ordinary human condition to survive. I heard her once go off on some poor sap about how much he was spending for his double vanilla latte at Starbuck's ever morning as he walked to work as a door man in New York. She chastised him about how, by sacrificing this one instant and ethereal moment of routine joy, he could pay off some credit card in 5 years instead of 5 years and three months. Really, wow, that seems sooooooo worth it. Thanks.
It is not that I don't believe in saving for some far off future retirement. I just feel that I can better appreciate the finer things in life such as a good vino, or a fancy named coffee, NOW while my taste buds are intact, my teeth don't need adhesive gel to stay in, and I am not back to crapping myself in diapers after a 68 year hiatus.
Yep, I pay that much for coffee, and I am damn proud of that fact 'cause I can.
That sounds bad, but it is all so true. I like my coffee hot, dark, strong, bitter and with a complicated but "fancy" name. Somewhere in my head a voice is saying "like I like my women" but that could get me into ALLLLL kinds of unnecessary trouble.
Born and raised in Atlanta, schooled in a college town, and "legally educated" in Birmingham, one can become accustomed to certain privileges, amenities, conveniences, or perks. Having gourmet coffee readily available is just one of those things you come to appreciate in "the big city."
This is not intended to be snobbery, just a realization that, when watching the Food Network, the selections of ripe goat cheeses are a bit limited at the Piggly Wiggly on Red Bud Road. In the realm of seafood, "fresh" is a generic term meaning flash frozen and placed in a box at the source before being shipped in refrigerator trucks for weeks to the Food Lion. On occasion, fine wines are not even an option at Walmart, where rather than distinguish by region, varietal, or even appellation, instead the magic of the grape is segregated by Red, White, and Other.
Oh the woes of the big city boy transplanted into rural northwest Georgia these last 13 years.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I like to be extravagant and taste cultural allurment and culinary alchemy without having to drive all of the way to Atlanta or Chattanooga.
On occasion, just the whiff of finely roasted Sumatran beans can give my mind the chance to day dream of being some high priced, silk stocking attorney who has an office located in some Buckhead high rise on some obscenely numbered double digit floor. A time where my spouse has the election of staying home in our 5,000 square foot home and the children are gaining their education in a uniformed private institution. Where one of my most important daily decisions is whether I chose from one of my 50 or so finely tailored suits, or simply dress down and take the convertible to work. Where lunch alone generally requires a reservation made by my very own, attentive personal assistant.
Life is a real bitch MOST days, and that is the god's honest truth. We have our little moments, but in the long run, each passing of the sun, each rising of the moon, each complete rotation of the planet generally brings forth an entirely new set of challenges to add to those that did not resolve themselves in the day now exhausted. You have to find joy and solace where you can, and that is the way to simply deal and survive. This respite can be the laugh of your five year old, the sound of your eight year old acting out her own cooking show in the basement, or merely the gentle touch of your partner, spouse, and best friend's hand while driving in the car.
These are the things that idiots like Suze Orman don't comprehend. The soul needs its brief escapes from the ordinary human condition to survive. I heard her once go off on some poor sap about how much he was spending for his double vanilla latte at Starbuck's ever morning as he walked to work as a door man in New York. She chastised him about how, by sacrificing this one instant and ethereal moment of routine joy, he could pay off some credit card in 5 years instead of 5 years and three months. Really, wow, that seems sooooooo worth it. Thanks.
It is not that I don't believe in saving for some far off future retirement. I just feel that I can better appreciate the finer things in life such as a good vino, or a fancy named coffee, NOW while my taste buds are intact, my teeth don't need adhesive gel to stay in, and I am not back to crapping myself in diapers after a 68 year hiatus.
Yep, I pay that much for coffee, and I am damn proud of that fact 'cause I can.
Well said! Sometimes it takes a small extravagance just to get through the day!
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