Greetings Earthlings,

It's Big Q with the tip.  We've got a new coffee machine at work.  I did a head count yesterday and as of right now, I'm the only one who doesn't like it.  I don't hate it, I just don't "get" it.  It's one of those single cup makers.  That mean each cup of coffee, or tea, has it's own container with just enough ingredients for 1 cup.  This seems like a waste, and I've said so, quite loudly.  I find it odd that now people hate me at work.  They fear the boss will get rid of it and bring back Big DeathBig Death was amazing.  It could make a pot, and keep another warm.  Once a year you'd take a paper towel and wipe down the inside and find charred remains of crickets and roaches, and then wonder why the coffee didn't "taste right" now that you've cleaned it.  The real problem was that you had the choice of 1 kind of coffee.  Folgers or nothing.

Folgers Coffee
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No one drinks black coffee anymore, they drink "Highlander Grogg", "Cherries Jubilee", "Baklava", all with a shot of Espresso, Lattee, or some other words an advertising executive will make up after he tests it on a focus group of people who'd lie to sound cool.  In fact, others look down on you if you order just a coffee black.  It somehow reflects on your personality.  Really?  What would it say? I like things from a simpler time.  A time when a "large" meant a large, and not a small.  A time when the lady who serves me my large coffee had just put down here cigarette before grabbing the refill pot, instead of putting down her copy of 50 Shades of Grey to reset the Wi-Fi.

Coffee
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What "point" am I trying to "get to" you ask.  In a larger sense I guess this new coffee machine is a window shade being pulled down on a portal to my past.  My past that holds memories of breakfast with Grandpa, Grandma, and table filled with relatives, also sausage and pancakes.  When just the aroma of strong black coffee meant the start of a new day.

I'm sure in 30 or 40 years from now the young people will hold their own memories of aroma.  Maybe it'll be of a cup of "Maple Bacon" El Grande with a group of friends around a Starbucks table.  They'll long for these days as the young drink steamed Cat Urine with a Deer Antler Chaser and wonder "what's wrong with the youth today".  "We're all doomed"

The real Big Q Tip, is, in what ever you do, just don't make P.T. Barnum correct. There doesn't have to be a sucker born every minute.  Make a pot coffee black and enjoy the moment.

P.S.  Enjoy your pet rock.

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