Coffee Culture vs. Vacation

During the course of a transaction today at work, a gentleman asked me why I wouldn't move to Austin. I thought carefully and responded: "I don't think I could put up with the coffee culture."

Coffee Culture is something Carl and I have been discussing lately, and I find myself working that thought into other conversations on an almost daily basis. I used to call the idea by a different name, "coffee snob", but it seems to be infecting more and more people.

Coffee Culture has emerged in the last decade from the trendy shops that specialize in coffee and nothing else. Its the "skinny latte, sub soy, no whip" kind of people. Its the "caramel machiado, extra caramel, add a dopio" kind of people. Its the person that walks into a coffee shop and asks what "roasts" we have brewed that day. As if this person flew in from Columbia and wants to taste the beans to guarantee flavor. Its the idea that drives us to call a large a venti and a small a tall. When did a cup of coffee turn into this?

I know coffee (not enough to be expert, just enough to work with it). I love coffee. I love serving it, drinking it, smelling it all day. I love the smell of espresso beans when I pour them in to the machine. What I do not love is ignorance, especially when it hides beneath a thin veil of arrogance. This applies not just to coffee but to anything. I respect people with real opinions, built off knowledge. I think what irritates me most is that Coffee Culture has made everyone an expert on coffee. And that expertise, that body of knowledge, is one inch thick. And one inch doesn't hold much weight.

I love it when an old man walks up to the counter and orders a small cup of coffee, black. Makes me feel good to know that they aren't all dead, gobbled up by the fashion and trendiness of coffee culture. Give me a cup of coffee, room for a cream. Oh, and make it a "medium".


On other fronts, the end of this week brings vacation to the house of Vaughn. The wife and I will be out of town till next Wednesday or so. So if you see a silver Civic pass you on the Interstate, my wife must be driving, cause I am an old man behind the wheel.

*Credit to Sissy Vaughn for the coffee cup painting. Yet unnamed, as far as I know.*