Java Junkmail: Just Join In the Jitters and Jolts

 Everyone gets junk mail - and the dubious progress afforded those of us who wander the internet ('surfing' is such a bogus term, isn't it...) seems to have increased the problem.
 We can open our email now and of 49 pieces of correspondence we get: 12 offers of $10,000 a week to work at home, 6 chain letters, 15 identical copies of the "Joke Of The Day" from friends afflicted with I.B.S. (iidentical boredom syndrome), 8 wanting to help us set up our own web-site for a measly $800 (we did it ourselves for about $10), 5 from faithful readers of BUZZ WORDS correcting our spelling or grammar (thanx), and three from employees wanting to change their work schedule.
 The tres cool thing about ejunk-mail is the delete key - you don't have to sort it or recycle it. You simply touch a key and it vanishes into nothingness. Poof!
 Sometimes we tend to hit the ol' delete key before even reading the stuff. but every so often a piece catches our eye and begs to be read... Such is the contents of this week's humble column. We didn't write this stuff. We have collected (a strange collection, true...) all of the various jittery rejoinders to the (transparently ridiculous) phrase: You Know You're Drinking Too Much Coffee When:
 You answer the door before people knock.  Juan Valdez named his donkey after you. You ski uphill (hey - WE do that!).
 You get a speeding ticket even when you're parked. You speed walk in your sleep. You haven't blinked since the last lunar eclipse.
           You just completed another sweater and you don't know how to knit.You grind your coffee beans in your mouth (drip or espresso?). You sleep with your eyes open.
 You have to watch videos in fast-forward. The only time you're standing still is during an earthquake. You lick your coffeepot clean (actually our puppies do that for us).
 You're the employee of the month at the local coffeehouse and you don't even work there (happens more than you think). You've worn out your third pair of tennis shoes this week.Your eyes stay open when you sneeze.
 You chew on other people's fingernails (eeewww!). The nurse needs a scientific calculator to take your pulse. Your T-shirt says: Decaffeinated coffee is the devil's blend (can't argue with truth).
 You're so jittery that people use your hands to blend their margaritas. You can type sixty words per minute... with your feet. You can jump-start your car without cables.
 Your only source of nutrition comes from Sweet and Low. You don't sweat, you percolate. You've worn out the handle on your favorite mug.
 You go to AA meetings just for the free coffee. You walk twenty miles on your treadmill before you realize it's not plugged in. You forget to unwrap candy bars before eating them.
 You've built a miniature city out of little plastic stirrers. People get dizzy just watching you. You've worn the finish off your coffee table.
 The Taster's Choice couple wants to adopt you. Starbucks owns the mortgage on your house. Your taste buds are so numb you could drink your lava lamp.
 You're so wired, you pick up FM radio. People can test their batteries in your ears. Your life's goal is to amount to a hill of beans (been there - done that).
 Instant coffee takes too long. You channel surf faster without a remote. When someone says: How are you? You say: Good to the last drop.
 You want to be cremated just so you can spend the rest of eternity in a coffee can. Your birthday is a national holiday in Brazil. You'd be willing to spend time in a Turkish prison.
 You go to sleep just so you can wake up and smell the coffee. You're offended when people use the word brew to mean beer. You can outlast the Energizer bunny.
 You short out motion detectors. You have an absolute conniption over spilled milk.
You don't even wait for the water to boil anymore.
 Your nervous twitch registers on the Richter scale. You think being called a drip is a compliment. You don't get mad, you get steamed.
 Your three favorite things in life are...coffee before, coffee during and coffee after. Your lover uses soft lights, romantic music, and a glass of iced coffee to get you in the mood.
 You can't even remember your second cup. You help your dog chase its tail. You soak your dentures in coffee overnight. Your coffee mug is insured by Lloyds of London.
 You introduce your spouse as your coffeemate. You think CPR stands for Coffee Provides Resuscitation. Your first-aid kit contains two pints of coffee with an I.V. hookup.
 Naturally, we, your humble baristas, take great exception to the whole concept of too much coffee. But our mirthful thanks to all the well-juiced jokers of the Javanation who contributed to the above!
 And, as my sainted mother never said: there is a germ of truth in every joke. I personally finished typing this whole column in under 2 minutes.
 Zoom... Zoom... Zoom.

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Making the most of mystic Mocha: Reading The Bean

 We have a sort of Mother Witch . . . which are the Coffee and Tea Throwers to tell People's fortunes. - from "Round About Our Coal-Fire", 1731.
 "If you want to improve your understanding, drink coffee." -Sydney Smith, 1771-1845.
 Here we are, just past the equinox, fast approaching the solstice, within a stonehenge's throw of All Hallow's Eve and into a seasonal celebration of goblins, the occult, and other things even stranger than our column.
 Last year we took a bit of time in our meanderings to share some of the techniques involved in reading tea leaves. The up-shot of that was a surprising series of email questions asking if there was any comparable tradition of coffee divination, and (of course) your humble baristas rose to the occasion (a mere year later) with the answer.
 Which is, not surprisingly, "yes"!
 The most well-known coffee divination technique is the reading of coffee grounds. If you remember last year's column, you remember the basics about reading tea leaves. But even we had to reread that tome, so we'll save you the trouble of going through the archives and locating that best-forgotten missive. Here follows the essential technique.
 The methods of reading coffee grounds are virtually identical to tea leaf divination, and both are known collectively by the term Tasseography. To read coffee grounds, you will of course need to prepare your coffee in such a way that there are grounds to read. (well, duh...)
 Instant coffee, having been determined by your humble baristas to be NOT coffee at all is ineligible for readings, since there isn't anything left to read anyway (unless you are anticipating no future whatsoever... then reading instant coffee is probably ok.)
 If you are at a coffee shop that serves drip-o-lated coffee, that won't work either. Our inside source for divination of the goddess Caffeina's mystic plans assures us that the residue from a cappuccino will work nicely as will a cup of French pressed brew. Just make sure that the cup is not so tall that you can't see clearly all the way to the bottom!
 Having enjoyed your particular cuppa Joe, you will see 'stuff' at the bottom of your cup or mug. (we are also informed that Caffeina does not respond well to a reading from a Styrofoam cup... the goddess prefers to reveal the future from something what won't pollute the future...) Ask yourself the following question: "What do I need to know about my present situation?"
 What do you now see in the cup? The grounds will arrange themselves in random patterns. Interpreting the patterns is a little like a Rorschach test (those ink-blot thingys) or laying on your back reading cloud formations. What you see and what it means to you will be very a highly personal matter (not unlike the coffee involved, actually) and two people reading the same cup can come up with very different interpretations. Both can be equally true.
 Now, take out a piece of paper and pen (pencils probably will do, but our source prefers a good fountain pen... no, we don't know why) and in a stream-of-consciousness style (a la James Joyce) begin jotting down your thoughts as you casually meditate on the shapes you see there.
 Above all, don't edit yourself (it could be argued that we follow the same rule when writing this column...) If the first thing that comes to mind has nothing to do with the coffee, jot it down anyway.
 For example, the first thing that enters your thoughts might be the dry-cleaning you need to pick up that afternoon. Write it down, all the while continuing to stare at your cup as if you were lying face up on your lawn staring at the clouds above. (But don't  stare UP into your mug... divination does not defy the laws of physics...)
 As much as possible, don't even look at the paper you are writing on - just keep your eyes on the grounds in your cup. It doesn't matter if your writing is illegible-it will be legible enough to you when you go back to it, if only enough so as to jar your memory to recall what your thoughts were at that moment.
 Continue writing for at least ten minutes. This will be long enough for you to enter the
first stages of a meditative state, both by the exercise of looking at one thing (the grounds) and by the rhythmic pattern of your free association and the motion of your hand upon the paper. If your mind keeps wandering back to your dry-cleaning, s'ok... let it. If your friendly barista keeps asking if you would like a refill, ignore him. Observe your thoughts, jot them down, and let them pass, moving onward to whatever comes next as you continue to stare at the cup's contents.
 When you do readings for yourself, don't feel you need to read every cluster of grounds in your cup (remember-you can also read the remains of milk-foam at the bottom of your cappuccino cup instead of grounds).
 If you are drinking Turkish coffee (goddess forbid), there are so many grounds left on the bottom that this would take you most of your future anyway! Interpret only what speaks to you. In fact, some of what may come to mind as you do your reading might not seem to have anything to do with what is in the cup at all.
 There is no right or wrong here (and isn't that handy?). Each of your interpretations are "correct." Like Tarot, many forms of prayer, and nearly all other meditation techniques, the success will be achieved from the focus that you use in directing your thoughts. The answers are within you. It's just that much of the time we aren't interested in the real answers.
 Trust yourself!

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When the Eye of the Beholder is Myopic...

 Last week as we worked diligently on the column, hammering away at the ol' typewriter (well actually we use a Powerbook™), your humble baristas were mightily, yea even verily, depressed.
 It was snowing. Not snow, in truth. Big, wet, sloppy blisters of quasi-crystaline water were being copiously flung at our home and all who dwell within. Depressing.
 Some poor unsuspecting soul wandered into the coffee shoppe the next morning (and yea verily it was still snowing...) and commented on how beautiful it was.
 Excuse us? The customer is (apparently) NOT always right (but is ALWAYS the customer, so we cut her some slack!)
 A true snowfall can certainly be beautiful, we will be the first (and second) to admit. But what was being hurled from heaven on us last week was far from beautiful (ok, ok... in OUR eyes...) and recalled not the picturesque scenes on holiday cards, but the heavy mush that grabs your tires and gives your SUS (sport utility sedan) a mind of its own.
 And, mostly, our SUS is out of it's mind already, so the muck that rained from the heavens to reign on the road was, in scientific parlance, yuckky.
 All of which led, oddly enough, to a discussion with said poor misguided customer on the various aspects of purity, whether snow or otherwise. That we, y.h.b.'s, know next to nothing on the subject dissuaded us not a farthing and we waxed eloquently on the concept of purity.
 She asked us what we thought the best example of purity was and, naturally, our answer was both unanimous and instantaneous: Turkish coffee.
 Now we understand that there are those of you who may have sampled a Middle Eastern brew and might want to disagree, but we shall stick to our guns (or perhaps our steaming wands...) and maintain that Turkish coffee is the purest form of The Bean.
 That the best cup of Arabian Java will likely taste like a cross between cough syrup and road tar to the average American palate is simply offset by the fact that an Arab faced with a cup of Mr. Coffee brew would wonder why we were serving dishwater to our guests. Even with good coffee, taste is a most subjective thing.
 Globally, coffee drinkers can be divided into three traditions: 1- Middle East; B- southern Europe and Latin America; III- northern Europe, America north of the Rio Grande and most of the rest of the English speaking world.
 Middle Easterners are closest to the true basics. They roast coffee dark (generally), grind it to a powder (generally), bring it to a boil several times (always), and serve a tiny cup of bittersweet coffee heavy with sugar and sediment. The little cups are sipped with an air of ceremony at all times of day, and nobody is in a hurry.
 In Southern Europe and urban Latin America there are two 'perfect cups' brewed: one for morning and one for the rest of the day. Morning is dark roasted (often nearly burned), bittersweet and best dribbled out of an espresso machine in small servings, heavy with foam (we call it 'crema') with a little sediment in the bottom (good for reading coffee ground fortunes!) and served in a bowl with hot milk (often to help warm the hands). The rest of the day the perfect cup is more like the tiny thing you find in the Middle East: black, strong and bittersweet.
 The English speaking world brews The Bean as nearly unlike the Middle Eastern style as you can get. Our beans are roasted brown instead of black (we call it a cinnamon roast because of its color...) and with ABSOLUTELY no sediment in it (wanna watch a customer go nutz? Leave some grounds in the bottom of their mug! Whoooeee!). (not that we have ever done that, mind you...)
 We drink a clear, light, smooth (no bitterness whatsoever) coffee that is so delicate that milk and/or sugar can literally overwhelm any pretense to body or flavor. We typically drink coffee all day out of office carafes or carry half filled mugs around while working and imbibe it as if it were both beverage and dessert, ending meals with a cup o' Joe, but just as often starting and middling a meal with it, too!
 That there is a fourth tradition is something that Your Humble Baristas have bemoaned before: dumping a spoonful of brown powder into a Styrofoam cup of micro-waved water and gulping it en route out the door and into the smog. None dare call it coffee.
 A friend returning from Guatemala once remarked that he could only find instant Nescafe™ in the local cafes of a country that is home to one of the world's finest coffee (Guatemala Antigua Urias). The topper was when he ordered a cappuccino and watched while the counterman walked AWAY from a gleaming espresso machine and dumped a spoonful of brown powder into microwaved milk... What hath we wrought?
 We feel sure that so-called "instant coffee beverage making" (hereafter known as ICBM) is a plot of anti-sensual, compulsive, left-brained, puritanical, work ethic oriented industrialism that is creeping over the world like the shadow cast from giant golden arches. (after all, ICBM's make for shorter coffee breaks, right?)
 At any rate, purity, like beauty, is probably in the mind (or mug) of the beholder. We seem to think of our pristine coffee beverages (fully filtered... ACK! Grounds!) as 'pure'. Much of the global village just laughs uproariously at what we call coffee while artfully sipping a tiny beverage guaranteed to tan leather while leaving enough goop in the bottom to fertilize a flower bed.
 But no matter what the values of purity are that we place on The Bean, we, your humble baristas, can say with authority and confidence that last week's snowfall was about as pure as the driven slush.
 Pass the sugar, please?

So you want to be a millionaire...

 Ask any small business owner and he, she, or it will tell you that friends, neighbors and acquaintances alike have the same response to proprietary holdings: Wow! This must be a gold mine!
 In fact, when we first began our intrepid little adventure, we had delusions of deluges of cash literally pouring out of the airpots and into our pockets. At the time of our friendly take-over of the Coffee Connection, there were 'dot-coms' springing up as if King Midas himself were skipping through the fields touching posies left and right.
 We watched the trendy and mighty Starbucks™ descending across the country like the golden arches of 'gourmet' coffee, dispensing lattes in a fast foodly frenzy and raking in the shekels that were a part of its namesake.
 Hell's bells... it's just coffee, man. If they can do it, we can do it! (cha-ching!!!)
 So with visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads, your humble baristas set out to conquer the Javanation. Yes, we were naive... no we were not idiots. We knew that we had a certain amount of homework to do... Figure out the difference between a latte and a cappuccino, find some financial backing, decorate everything in shades of 'hunter green' (the nouveau colour de cafe) and invest in enough zipper cases to hold the loot as we would lug it to the joyful arms of our bank.
 Arming ourselves with the latest scientific tools for management and cafe assessment, we set off. Our tool kit contained two pair of binoculars, a roll of Tums™ and a box of donuts. From a 1988 Nissan Sentra with 160,000 miles on it, we stalked every cafe, coffee shoppe, coffee house, and diner within 100 miles.
 We sat in countless parking lots studying (in great detail) the faces of coffee patrons thru Bushnell zoom lenses. Happy? Sad? Joyful? Jittery? Heartbroken? Heartburn? Burned tongue?
 We drank cool beans, warm beans, French roasts, full city roasts, mochas and malts, iced frappes, iced caps, cappuccinos, cappuccinettes; we downed drinks with caramel, cacao, coconut, creme de menthe and chicory.
 We sniffed, sampled, savored, spat out, sipped, swizzled and soaked up the flavors and ambiance of Supremos, Sumatrans, Sulawesis, Spanish, Santos, South Americans, Southern Europeans, Specialties, Swiss Watered and Strictly Hard Bean.
 How hard can this be? Ok, ok... we aren't only naive, maybe we actually are idiots... But if just going to a coffee house can be so much fun, wouldn't owning one be even better? A definite no-brainer (and just the people to have it, too...)
 But research is obviously gonna be the key (everybody said) and we gleefully surrounded ourselves with books, trade journals, internet resources and anything that even hinted at being oriented toward caffeine. Our first internet search landed 4,505,200 references to coffee. Possibly too much to deal with effectively.
 Narrowing the search to 'coffee house',Mr. Gore's creation yielded a mere 1,241,000 sites. Dandy... the final search was on 'owning a coffee shoppe' which gave a much more manageable 290,000 possible sources.
 We have 3 full bookshelves of reference books on The Bean. We subscribe to 5 trade journals, get info from 4 usenet groups, belong to 3 coffee organizations, and 2 national infoserves (and a partridge in a pear tree...).
 So, have we made our first million? Heh, heh... right. When people walk into our humble establishment and comment about our gold mine, we politely correct them, referring to our shoppe as more of a copper mine. (we would have to sell 869, 565.22 cups of coffee to gross a million... just 2484.47 cups per day... piece of cake!)
 The real success for a small business is in setting reasonable goals (not going broke...), devising a sound business plan (pay the bills), obtaining expert advice (free coffee to your lawyer), and having a good time (the only real reason to do anything, actually). And we are, without a doubt, having a good time!
 Oh, and (by the way) it doesn't hurt to have your local newspaper publisher (bless him!) ask you to do a weekly 'coffee column' (this thing IS about coffee, isn't it?) and life is even better when your editor (Colleen... gotta love her) has the patience of an oyster when you are behind your deadline. "Buzz Words" has become one of the best parts of a busy week for us (ok, maybe not for you, but then why are you reading this???)
 So would we trade our little coffee shoppe for a million bucks?
 In a heartbeat.
*   *   *      *   *   *
 A note to our readers: (both of you) - we recently did a column about puppies (as we often do) and introduced you to "Sara-Sam-Sara", a beautiful and tiny yellow Labrador mix puppy with gender identity problems (actually, we are pretty sure it's "Sara" now) owned by one of our regulars at the shoppe and loved by all.
 Sara is missing and we are enlisting the help of our wonderful Buzz Words readers. She accidentally got outside and wandered from home and hearth somewhere on the west side of Oswego in the Cayuga St./Liberty St. area. We are hoping that someone has taken her into foster puppy care, but without her ID tag on, who would know?
 Sara is young and small (and is under treatment for a heart condition), about the size of a house cat (!), soft golden yellow coat with an irresistible face and a large black polka dot on her front paw. Pease... we have had a couple reports of Sara-Sightings but we need your help. The coffee shoppe is offering a $100 reward for her safe return.
 If you have any information at all on Sara, be a real "Friend of The Bean" and give us a call (342-6916). Please...

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By this time next week we shall have a new president-elect awaiting the moving van to take him to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
 These last few days of the campaign bring up a sore spot with your humble baristas (us...) in that neither the Veep nor Dubyuh have spoken about the truly important things in life; we refer, of course, to coffee.
 The education planks on their platforms have been left bereft of info on their addressing caffeine education to the public at large. They have argued (ad infinitum) about prescription drugs while totally ignoring America's (nay, the world's) drug of choice.
 The great debate has raged (ad nauseum) about tax breaks for the wealthy or the middle class, or whoever with nary a mention of the cost of a cappuccino.
 Baristas to the rescue.
 We contacted their respective campaign camps and are proud to announce that both the Father of the Internet and Dubyuh agreed to an interview with Y.H.B.'s which, for your political edification, is reprinted here in its edited entirety.

 Bill & Steav: Mr. Vice President, Mr. Governor, Thank you for meeting with us. To begin, would you each share with us what you prefer to drink in the morning?
 Mr. Gore: Please, call me Al. Naturally, what Tipper and I reach for first thing after waking is the Scope. Morning breath is wicked on those mega-smooches I'm known for (for which I am known... sheesh). But like Ms. Amanda Reckonwith of Decaf Junction, Indiana, we enjoy a refreshing double latte because we think like and are a part of the middle class families of America who deserve more than a return to the disastrous coffee of the 1980's.
 Dubyah: Please, call me Dubyah. The failed coffees of the present administration are a disgrace in our eyes and in the eyes of the world. As governor of Texas, we equipped our people with the wherewithal to create their own fine coffee beverage in the morning. And, if they were unhappy with the results we provided coupons for coffee at McDonalds. Personally I like a nice smooth cup of chicory with two sugars stirred with a tiny silver spoon I have had with me all my life.
 B/S: There seems to be a division in the country regarding the type and quality of coffee we are providing our citizens. Could you each speak to this issue?
 Al: Good coffee should be a right of the people and not a privilege of the rich. My opponent's policy would give espresso to the top one percent of the nation while leaving the rest of the hard working Americans to drink Nescafe. His squandering of the budget surplus will condemn senior citizens, like Mr. Joe Cammell of Winston-Salem, North Carolina, to instant Sanka in less than 15 years.
 Dubya: I have a vision for coffee drinkers in these great United States. i have a vision because I don't have a problem with the "vision thing". That vision is to show the good people in these great United States what we have accomplished in the great state of Taxes... um... Texas. Without regard to bias, research, or informed sources and without paying any attention to the realities of the economics of the past, we of Texas have targeted specialty coffee education as a vital component for our children's education. Coffee is important, education is important, and our children is important.
 B/S: How do your campaigns differ regarding caffeine?
 AL: Dubyuh is for coupons. Coffee coupons will squander the national treasures like Coffee Connection and give quality coffee only to the richest 1% of the population while leaving the rest of middle class Americans with Postum. What he calls 'specialty' coffee needs to be seen for what they really are: Gourmet coffees. The question you need to ask yourself is simple: Is your coffee better now than it was 8 years ago? A decade ago, mainstream working Americans like Ms Gayle Thyme of Greenwich Village, NY, never had access to the specialty coffee market. When I created specialty coffee, I intended that everyone should have access to a quality bean.
 Dubyuh: I want to appeal to my core supporters which consists of both the "haves" and the "have mores". The 'haves' have coffee. The 'have mores' should be able to get refills. They deserve those refills. I deserve a refill. As governor of Texas we all had refills. My coffee policy is the result of a trickle down effect, not unlike a Mr. Coffee maker.
 B/S: Gentlemen, thank you for your time. Any closing remarks you would like to make?
 Al: I just want my fellow Americans to know that I am there for them, that I understand when someone is forced to leave public housing and is desperately seeking employment, much like Mrs. Hillary Clinton of Washington, D.C. Hard-working people like this deserve a decent cup of coffee.
 Dubyuh: When I visited Latin America's coffee growing regions, I was impressed at their initiative and skills at growing quality coffee, much like we would have done in the great state of Texas if we could get coffee to grow there which, of course, we can't. My only regret was that I never took Latin in school and couldn't speak to them in their own language. But we did give a new definition to "political party"... heh heh.

A Special note to our readers:
 Sara, the lost puppy, is found. Safe, sound, and happy. As a result of reading the Palladium Times, a sad owner and missing puppy were reunited. Our thanks to the thoughtful person who provided foster care for Sara and made a whole bunch of folks a lot happier!

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Urban Legends of the Fall (as in: autumn...)

 Remember Charlie? Well, some of you will. Charlie was the hero of the first of the "Great Urban Legends", a phenomenon we now experience with such regularity one would think it governed by Ex-Lax...
 Charlie was a regular rider of the Boston MTA (Metro Transit Authority) at a time (early 60's as we recall...) when the MTA decided (in its authoritarian wisdom) to raise the subway fare at the ends of the lines by a nickel.
 Now do you remember Charlie? His story was set to music by the great bards The Kingston Trio. Seems he got on the subway without the extra 5¢ needed to exit the train at the end of the line. "He may ride forever 'neath the streets of Boston; he's the man who never returned." To the best of our knowledge, he's still there...
 Nowadays we have all sorts of urban legends. Everything from computer viruses (virusi ?) that will wipe your hard drive and alter your phone number to fast foods that will make you sterile... Most are, like these examples, bogus.
 But there is one urban legend that we swear is true (honest - trust us) and happened in our very own little community - actually in our very own shoppe. Really. And it involves a lawyer (the plot thickens) and pseudo-cookies (better and better!).
 See, last year at this time we wrote "Buzz Words" for the food section. We were playing with all sorts of recipe thingys to create a caffeinated coffee column for our esteemed publisher (bless him!) and our faithful readers. For kicks (really, just for kicks) we started baking dog bisquets around that time. It was all the rage and we got some good recipes off the Web.
 Our little joke was on us... we couldn't keep the silly things in stock - as fast as we baked 'em, people bought 'em and puppies ate 'em! Cool... But we digress (so what's new?)...
 As the holidays approached we changed our puppy cookies just a tad for the seasonal celebration, adding a bit of red or green food coloring and exchanging our dog bone cookie cutter for stars, candy canes, and evergreen trees. Little did we know...
 The legend has it that a puppy lover (who will remain nameless) bought a whole bag of these canine Christmas cookie creations as potential stocking stuffers for her fav pups. She thought (one would) that it would be safe to leave them on the kitchen counter until the stuffing began.
 She was wrong (it appears...) because the stuffing began earlier than planned. Her room-mate (legend has it), a prominent local attorney with a notorious sweet-tooth, spotted the bag of barker bites. The rest is history (actually it's 'herstory'... we never actually heard from him...).
 His only comment? They were a bit dry. Nonetheless, our cuisinely challenged counselor had half a dozen or so, dryness notwithstanding. Surely a legend in his own time (or perhaps in his own mind... let the giggles begin!).
 Apocryphal? Possibly. We have changed the names to protect the innocent (actually we used no names 'cause no one was all that innocent) but wanted to share this story with you (our faithful reader) because we wanted to share the very real recipe (no legend here) with you for your upcoming holiday pleasure (or pranks... another legend has it this recipe was used for Halloween treats!)
 Fresh from multiple animal welfare agencies and shelters and vets throughout the world wide web, this is the base recipe that our famous Kenya Kookies spring from (from which they spring... sheesh!)
 1 cup white flour
 1 cup whole wheat flour
 1/2 cup corn meal (or oatmeal, or wheat germ, or whatever)
 1/2 cup dry milk
 6 tsp margarine (or butter or peanut butter)
 1 Tbsp dark brown sugar
 1 egg
 1/2 cup of water (more or less...)

 Combine the dry stuff... melt the margarine (or whatever) and istir it into dry stuff. Beat egg and brown sugar together and add to the mix, then slowly add water and knead. (Add a bit of flour if it's too sticky or a little water if it's too dry.) This is the fun part. Kneading is gooey and sticky and cool because it all suddenly starts to mix together and becomes a nice, smooth, elastic dough (kinda like bread or pizza dough).
 Roll it out about 1/4 inch thick and use your puppy's favorite cookie cutter (not your barrister's favorite...) - Bake at about 325 for about 40 minutes. There are variations on the main theme, but you get the idea.
 For training snacks (for puppies, not people) you roll the dough out and then use a pizza cutter and cut 1/2 inch squares. We always have a pocket full of these (which probably accounts for the tooth marks on our pockets. Heh heh...)
 And you thought this column was about nothing! Caffeinated cultural facts, political commentary, random acts of poetry, entertainment (well, minimally...), and now an actual useful recipe! What will the humble baristas think of next?
 When the flurries fly or boredom sets in with your human puppies, making dog bisquets is a splendid kid project and a wonderful way of increasing the bonding between you and your canine best friend.
 But lest you are tempted to succumb to their aroma, remember the immortal words of our urban legend:
 They are a bit dry...

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When you're "Privy" to some special information...

 It's been two weeks since your favorite and/or humble baristas have had a chance to  communicate with you, and what a couple of weeks it has been.
 We headed off into the Adirondacks for a few days of R & R the day after the fateful election of 2000. We noted in last week's 'Best of Buzz Words' our esteemed editor Colleen (gotta love her) determined it was a well deserved break for us... Maybe... Maybe not... We're thankful she thinks so... heh heh...
 What was true, tho', is that our email buzzword box was crammed full of suggestions from our faithful reader(s) for columns regarding the political landscape during our Adirondack escape.
 Also true is the fact that we remain thankful we were NOT in town just then because the temptation to do political commentary instead of talking about coffee would have been just too too great, and we are easily tempted.
 In our special hideaway in the mountains we were not privy to information about the election results. No electricity. And we were not privy to voting updates from friends or relatives. No phone... We were not even privy to news on 'The Web' via our cell phones... No cell... Amazing, eh?
 In fact, it is because of not being privy to all of this melange of idiosyncratic info (with the emphasis on 'idio....') regarding the latest on the state of the 'chad' (punched, puckered, pregnant or otherwise...) that the idea for this week's column came to mind.
 What we were privy to was: a privy.
 Growing up we always thought that the word 'privy' was short for 'privileged' - it just seemed that lawyers or congresspeople or principals or superintendents or bishops or others at the top of the information pile were referred to as 'privy to' certain facts or figures which we, the lowly, didn't and/or shouldn't and/or couldn't know.
 No electric... No phone... No cell... Did we mention no running water? The pump in our little cabin is disconnected sometime in October - It's a hand pump, by the way...  so we have to haul water by hand. But the one thing that always works in our secluded rendezvous is the privy. Some would call it an outhouse. We don't.
 Sitting there, patiently taking in the scenery, it seemed only natural that we would think of the current state of the election. Don't ask us what the subliminal connection between politics and privys is. If it's not all that obvious to you, well, it was to us.
 Upon returning to (technological) civilization after our time off, we discovered that life was hanging by a 'chad' and that every coffee shoppe in the world (ours was no exception) was teeming with talk about Gore, Bush and the Florida recount.
 It made us miss our privy.
 Sitting in the wilds without MSNBC or NPR for minute by minute updates was somehow refreshing. After being gone 5 days, not a single REAL thing had changed vis-a-vis the election when we returned. Our Adirondack catharsis was tiny compared to that of the rest of the country. Privy's give you an interesting perspective on the world.
 One of the post-privy conversations in the mountains was centered around the ageless question, "Why does stuff taste better outdoors?" We tend to think that our coffee at home or at the shoppe is quite nearly perfect but sipping it on a deck in a divinely desolate area of the 'Dacks made it absolutely perfect. No question.
 Is it the rarified air? Probably not...  The air around Florida seems plenty rarified and no one seems to be enjoying their coffee on either coast.
 The water, maybe? Nah - Even if city water is not always as tasty as you might wish, we have a well at home that is delicious. There is still something more.
 Or maybe it's something less, actually. There is a slower more deliberate pace of life in a 19th century cabin that makes things taste or feel or smell somehow better. In an era of fast food, making your morning brew by heating water on a wood burner just makes it seem special. Conversation time is abundant and so is patience. After all, in a mountain cabin, your choices are limited!
 We know people who can stand in front of a microwave oven and scream, "Hurry!" They (like us) need to experience the timelessness of making the fire, hauling the water, putting on the pot, waiting for the boil and then brewing The Bean each morning.
 We once knew a devoted camper who dutifully took a pouch of (so-called) instant coffee on each hiking or canoeing or kayaking excursion. We could never figure out why he thought he was somehow saving time. After all, the brewing of The Bean is the fastest part of the process.
 Your humble baristas, of course, take their French press on camping trips. The privilege of being outdoors begets the privilege of having great coffee.
 So, far from being inconvenienced by our three-walled privy (did we mention that it has no door? oh... well, it doesn't) we are grateful that it exists. It gives one pause to ponder and give thanks.
 Thanks that we don't live in the political climate of Peru, or Indonesia, or Yemen, or Colombia, or any of the other troubled areas that (oddly enough) grow coffee.
 Thanks that our governmental system, as flawed as it might occasionally seem, is one that we actually trust to work. And we do...
 Thanks that after a mere 224 years, our country has matured (mostly) to the point of having enough patience to let things resolve themselves in due time.
 We are reminded of a line from the poem "Desiderata":
 "... and whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. "
 That is information we are all privy to (to which we are all privy... sheesh!).
 Happy Thanksgiving.

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Bean Babble Brews Border / Boundary Banter

 Some of the best things in life are free. Some are not... Coffee (alas) is not free, but there is frequent entertainment surrounding The Bean that doesn't cost a cent and is worth every penny.
 They walked into the shoppe not long ago with an over-inflated air of sophistication. He: dashing, dark, dimpled, debonairesque and one would have to assume old enough to shave (perhaps weekly...) She: sleek, savvy, statuesque, blonder than precisely natural and with a certain air of knowing... something.
 They read the menu boards and in pitifully proper stage whispers discussed the options available. Finally...
 He: Charming little shoppe you have here. What is the 'cafe du jour'? (he pronounced 'jour' with a Julyesque sound...)
 We: Thanks. We have three brewed coffees every day - a regular, flavored and a decaf. Or we can French Press any of our other coffees. Today we have Brazil Bourbon Santos, French Vanilla Velvet, and a decaffeinated Mocha Java.
 She: Oh dear... we don't care for flavored coffees. Do you have something not flavored?
 We: That would be the Brazil Bourbon or the Mocha Java (which is our decaf today...)
 He: No... no flavourings at all, my good man [barista eyebrows rise slightly] - and I cannot imagine a whiskey flavored coffee (he winks knowledgeably at his adoring fan and smiles - lips tightly together)
 She (with a certain coquetry): Really! and the only thing worse than decaf would be chocolate flavoured decaf (the ensuing laugh was faux but on pitch)...
 We: Well, actually, Brazil Bourbon is named for the family of trees that the coffee descended from (from which the coffee is descended...sheesh) - They were brought to Brazil from France.
 We 2: And Mocha is a shipping port in Yemen. Most coffees take their names from where they are grown or shipped and Mocha is known for exports of both coffee and cocoa. So it is decaf, but not flavored.
 He (glancing ever so slightly down his Roman nose): Ah! So that would mean the second one on the list is presumably grown in "Velvet, France"?
 We: Um...no. That one IS a flavor. French vanilla velvet. Actually, it's a Colombian bean.
 She (puzzled but covering it): Then the French coffee isn't French? It's Colombian? Or is it simply French roasted? (she preens in her worldliness)
 We 2: Right. Er, that is, well, no - It is not French roasted - That would be called "Full City" - But it is Colombian and flavored with Vanilla (appropriate pause...) - French vanilla.
 He (with a slight tilt to the head): Let me see if I have it right. The Bourbon isn't flavored... The Mocha isn't flavored... but the French is???
 We (showing a thumbs up): Bingo. Bourbon and Mocha aren't flavors - French VANILLA is. (smiles all around)
 Waiting customer: Would you mind if I just ordered a Brazil Bourbon with a shot of Jamaican rum? I'm late for class.
 We: No problem, mon! A Bourbon and rum coming up...
 She (with a pert squeel):  Is the Jamaican rum coffee made with that expensive one I've heard so much about?
 We: Nope. You're thinking of Jamaican Blue Mountain. Our Jamaican rum coffee is made with Colombian and a rum extract. But what that customer is ordering is a 'flavor shot' of Jamaican rum - Different thing entirely.
 He (scowling an aside to his partner): (((They aren't even checking his ID and they're serving him rum?)))
 She (in mock horror): (((I guess... maybe when you add rum to hot coffee all the alcohol evaporates???)))
 We: Ma'am, it's just a flavored syrup. Really - there isn't any alcohol in it. We don't have a liquor license.
 She: Oh. I see. Now, the Blue Mountain coffee... Do you have that available?
 We: No. Sorry. It's just too expensive. It runs around $50 a pound and we wouldn't have enough call for it so it would just go stale. We do, however, have a 'blue' coffee. Venezuela Blue Caracas. It's right in this container over here.
 She (squinting intently at the bean bin): Hmmmmm... Dearest, do you see anything blue about this coffee?
 He: Yes, I think I do - If you look at it in the light...just so...
 We (carefully biting our cheeks to dispel the immanent laughter): The plantation where the coffee is grown is on, um,  Blue Mountain - The name doesn't actually affect the color of the beans too much...
 She: So, let me see if I have it right: Blue coffee is brown, Bourbon isn't a whiskey but it is Brazilian and comes from France, Mocha isn't chocolate, Jamaican rum isn't from Jamaica and doesn't have rum in it, French coffee is Colombian and French roast is really... ahhhh... is really...
 We: Full City. And actually blue coffee is green before it's roasted... Could we offer you a French press of one of our other coffees, perhaps? The Kenya is actually from Kenya, if that helps.
 He (dimples drooping slightly): I think that we may just have a bottled water, if you don't mind. Do you have Vermont Pure?
 We (grinning at We 2): Absolutely. It's bottled in Schenectady, though. Is that all right?

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Humility is in the mind of the bean holder...

 Your humble baristas (us...) owe all our faithful readers an apology. It seems (according to unidentified sources in the Associated Press) that this whole messy post-election presidential campaign is our fault. Eek!
 A week before the election, you may recall, we interviewed both Al and Dubyuh regarding their coffee bean policy and how it might affect their presidency.
 Seems that this now famous interview got picked up by some (very bored) individual and made the rounds of emails throughout the country (nay, throughout the world!) and, according to news tracking sources, it arrived in the Gator State on Election Day itself.
 Oops. You wouldn't think coffee had that kind of clout, would you? In that first article we made the mistake of saying. "By this time next week we will know who is moving into 1600 Pennsylvania Ave..."
 And we were wrong - that was six weeks ago. We are tempted to say that by the time you read THIS, we will know... blah... blah... blah... But having been wrong only that once (in our lives) we aren't taking the chance on doubling our goofs!
 See, we know how our loyal (albeit small) reading public hang on our every word.  It's kinda like being the Allen Greenspans of caffeine. One cryptic phrase about French presses, a vague reference to a new trendy drink, a casual mention that this year's Kilimanjaro crops are unusually flavorful and the entire coffee economy is ours to manage.
 Right... A reader said to us (just before the presidential bean interview, in fact) that she didn't think we were all that humble, for humble baristas.
 Our response was, well, less than clever. We stammered and shuddered something about 'the mind of the beholder' and that we were the only baristas in Oswego anyway, so the scale was a little tipped.
 But in retrospect it does seem that blowing one's horn isn't that bad a thing (if done with humility... heh heh heh) Take for example our late lamented editor for WEEKEND 2.0 (Yay! Tim!)
 Inside sources tell us that Yay! Tim! earned himself not one but TWO (2) (II) Press Club awards this year. Not bad, eh? Especially on the heels of his promotion to City Editor from his previous job of keeping the baristas in line (now a new career for Colleen - gotta love her) it is nice to see talent recognized. Yay Tim's gentle and genteel editorial presence was always something we could count on, lean on, and depend on.
 It will be exciting to say "We knew him when..." someday. Cause we did... Days of serving coffee to the kid who did publicity for Harborfest fade into the past as this local talent  moves its way into the star system.
 We have always been humbled (honest!) that Yay! Tim! put Buzz Words inside the front cover of WEEKEND (his special baby) and placed his own "Notebook" column on the back pages.
 Then someone remarked that most people read newspapers from back to front. sigh... it was a nice fantasy. We like him (a lot) anyway and we (at least) are proud to have him as a major part of the local daily paper.
 In reflecting on this "humble" designation, it became clear to us (at least) that there are a lot of humble shopkeepers around town who probably ought not to be so self deprecating!
 Downtown merchants as well as shoppers see "river's end bookstore" as an anchor store for the newly revitalized city shopping center, yet Bill Reilly merely smiles and stammers something about trying to offer a service to the community.
 Port City Cafe qualifies in the humble eatery category. You can get sandwiches in  probably about 6 billion establishments in the world, but no place on earth can you get a Port City Roast Beast panini, a creation which (to this humble barista) would reform a vegetarian. Yet Laurie just shrugs and grins and mumbles 'thanks - you want that to go?'
 Cakes Galore, famous in it's own right, is another major feather in Oswego's burgeoning cap. Not only do Bob and Lori do some of the city's most creative bakery creations, but the two of them are the best free entertainment in town!
 Shapiro Paper's Sherri Baker proved to be one of our most valuable resources in helping a couple humble baristas figure out little details of operating a coffee shoppe when (in fact) we didn't know squat when we started. From the right kind of cups for creamed cheese to marketing important merchandise, she is one of the pillars that kept us propped up from the very beginning.
 Time and Again Books and Tea has a proprietor (Debbie Engelke) who shares creative ideas and thoughts at the drop of a stir stick and unabashedly tells people of all of  this community's downtown treasures.
 And these are but the tip of the proverbial iceberg. If Buzz Words was 100 times as long it would be impossible to root out all the humble locals who contribute substantially  to the life of our Port City.
 So, you see, when you look at the vast array of talent in Oswego's downtown and the people who make it hum, and run, and fun, you are left with only one simple conclusion from our perspective:
 It's easy to be humble.

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Happy HanukkahChristmasKwanzaaNewYearSolstice

 They staggered into the coffee shoppe dragging baggage and boxes and carrying all sorts of multicolored paraphernalia.
 "Large anything." he croaked. She nodded that his order was her's also.
 I fixed them each a mochaccino. They looked like they needed cheering and it is the cheeriest drink I think we make. When I finished piling whipped cream and chocolate drizzle on it I added (in a moment of passionate artistry) some red and green sprinkles.
 They looked at the coloring and made a funny face.
 "I swore that if I saw anything else that was green and red I would gag," she stated.
 So I covered the chocolate sauce and red and green sprinkles with blue sugar crystals.
 "Ohhh!." he sighed. "Hanukkah! That's better."
 Amazing that just the colors would elicit such a reaction, but I could understand their plight. I recall my sainted father bemoaning that eventually Christmas might start so early that it never actually went away -
 There is a sort of blessing that in the last few years before his euphemistic 'passing' he never saw the 12 month Christmas stores in the malls... I think it would have shortened his lengthening life.
 The above referenced couple requested parking privileges for their holiday goodies in a corner of the coffee shoppe (granted) and headed upstairs to unwind. About 10 minutes later 'he' came part way down the stairs and said, in a relief filled puzzlement." You aren't playing Christmas music. Bless you... but how come?"
 "That's easy," I replied (easily)... "It's not Christmas yet!"
 'He' exclaimed, "What a novel idea! What is the music playing, tho? It's very cool."
 I replied that it was Paul Winter Consort and one of the celebrations from St. John the Divine (NYC) of the winter Solstice, and yes, it was cool -
 "See," I advised." Solstice comes before Christmas and is an older celebration anyhow... Plus the music is more fun 'cause it's not as well known, but is pretty 'earth-music' in style." He smiled and mentioned his appreciation of a little 'solstice caroling' and returned to his comrade and his mochaccino.
 Tis the season, eh? No matter what your religious or celebration preferences, there is a season for you. And it probably isn't all that odd that they occur within a couple weeks of each other.
 Light. Nothing complicated... just light.
 Light is the basic element of Solstice. And as Oswegonians it is weird that we don't put more of our partying spirit behind this one. Solstice is the day where the daylight hours start increasing and the darkness begins to loose ground.
 In an era of "Seasonal Affective Disorder" which (i would just guess from our customers) is nearly pandemic in the northeast, the idea that days are lengthening and the sun is 'winning' surely is a cause for celebration -
 Getting through an Oswego area winter requires constant reminders that the days are getting longer - Your humble baristas think that Daylight savings time ought to begin on Groundhog's Day instead of the last Sunday in March, fer cryin' out loud!
 Even without a celebration of your own you can adopt one, or let it adopt you. Hey, it's fun! That is what it's all about!
 Kwanzaa, the newest of the reasons for the season, is in many ways the most enjoyable to watch. African-American music, art, quasi-tribal and quasi-urban ritual, and a determined emphasis on looking at the best aspects of humanity bring out more exciting and spontaneous joy than nearly any of the other seasonal bashes.
 Kwanzaa's 'light' is an examination of one's inner light and how to make it shine for others who might need a little light in their darkness. And the newness of the Kwanzaa season energizes those who watch it develop its traditions, because it's only a few years old -
 For us enthusiasts of The Bean, Hanukkah is fun from a business point of view. The Jewish celebration of a miracle of light is one that people in this day and age might empathize with (with which they might empathize... sheesh!)
 Seems  (according to that most famous of seasonal icons, the Holiday Armadillo) that the Macabees prayed that one day's worth of lamp oil might actually last for a week and, of course, it did.
 Perhaps George W. Bush's new energy secretary ought to be Jewish. If it doesn't help, it can't hurt, eh?
 Anyway, we annually get requests for Kosher coffee. Our roaster happens to be Jewish. So every bean in our shoppe happens to be Kosher! Our Jewish customers are thrilled at this news and proceed to buy beanage and request the names be slightly altered to fit the occasion.
 Thus "Chocolate Irish Creme" becomes Chocolate Yiddish Creme and "Seville Orange" turns to Shalom Orange. For them, our 'Holiday Tradition' is nothing short of perfection since tradition is one of the hallmarks of their season.
 Kinda sad that after 40 years in the desert and all the ensuing problems, God didn't lead the chosen people to a land of either crude oil OR coffee. One of those commodities should have been the prize after all that work, wouldn't you think?
 Light! Our shoppe is aglow, our outside is aglow, our customers and aglow, the city is aglow! Fiat Lux! Let there be light. And it was lit! Cool.
 This time of year, leaving the shoppe in the 6 pm darkness, it is a real joy to take alternate routes on the way home, just to look at the lights. Some houses are garish with a glow that could only make NiMo smile.
 But others are so simple and understated that it makes you stop and look and smile. One of the old homes in Oswego has a zillion windows and a tea-light burning in each one every night. Pretty.
 So enjoy your holiday, or enjoy your holidays. Celebrate one or celebrate 'em all. And amidst all the darkness of the world, do what your humble baristas enjoy doing:
 Enjoy the light. Happy holiday(s). Shalom. Pax.

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Hats - Scarves - Mittens - Coffee Houses: Pup Perspectives
  by Kenya & Djimah

 The last Buzz Words of the "real" millennium and Bill and Steav are 'dog tired' (their words) so (foolish humans that they are) they have asked US to write this week's Buzz Words!
 I'm Kenya... 2 1/2 year old chocolate Lab and I'm the bright one. That one over there is Djimah. She's only 16 months old and not too 'literary' (if you know what I mean) - cute in her own way and able to play a mean game of tag, but with few journalistic tendencies.
 We are gonna take up the slack left by the Humble Baristas this week, because there are things that THEY never write about that we think the world oughta know.
 Kenya: First of all, I got my name from the best coffee growing area in the world. Some humans think coffee got its start in Ethiopia (or maybe Yemen) but, trust me, it was Kenya.
 Djimah: ...and *I* got my name from the actual place in Kenya that grows The Bean! Yup!
 Kenya: Right... Anyway, we wanted to point out a few things that happen around the coffee shoppe lately that no one but us seems to notice... dangerous things!
 Djimah: (to Kenya) tell 'em about the critters!
 Kenya: I will, I will. See, a few weeks ago someone chopped down a tree and brought it into the shoppe. A good tree, too. It smelled of squirrels and birds and deer, but it's dying now. I don't know who did it but everyone in the shoppe tried to make it feel better by hanging toys on it.
 Djimah: (to Kenya) Tell 'em about the critters!
 Kenya: Gimme a chance! Anyway there have been a LOT of trees chopped down this winter. We see 'em all over. The people feel bad for them and take them into their houses and try to cheer them up with lights and weird stuff. Djimah and I have tried to take all the stuff off the trees so that they don't have to work so hard holding their branches up - it's all they can do to keep their needles, fer cryin' out loud!
 Djimah: (to Kenya) the CRITTERS! Tell 'em!
 Kenya: OK, ok... not only are there trees IN the shoppe AND the house, but people are being attacked by BEASTS! Some attack their heads, some wrap themselves around their throats, and some try to eat the humans' hands!
 Djimah: It's awful. We bark at the humans to warn them but they don't pay attention.
 Kenya: We think (but we aren't exactly positive) that the beasts are just looking for a warm spot, cause they all started getting on people's heads and hands and necks when it got cold. They did it last year, too, but Djimah was too little to notice.
 Djimah: And they aren't very bright (the critters, not the humans) cause they refuse to run when I bark, and *I* can BARK!
 Kenya: Yeah, it's true. I think they hibernate as soon as they are on the human heads cause they don't even move. It makes us nervous, tho. Sometimes, in the shoppe, the humans yank the beasts off their heads or their hands and lay em on the tables while they drink their coffee.
 Djimah: But the REALLY strange thing is that humans feel sorry for the critters and take them outdoors when they leave.
 Kenya: Well, most of the time. Sometimes they leave 'em in the shoppe and then WE take care of them - I usually shake 'em until they fall apart.
 Djimah: Or tug-of-war! That usually works, too.
 Kenya: Un-huh. We were talking to one pup that just visited Germany (he was a shepherd) and he told us that there they have the same problems. But in Germany they let dogs into all the coffee shoppes - undoubtedly to control the beasts... Pups almost always take their humans to lunch or dinner over there, I guess.
 Djimah: And remember that cute poodle? She used to live in France and always went to the cafes and restaurants with her human. They even had special canine menus at some of the restaurants.
 Kenya: Remember that little Taco dog that was visiting last summer? He said that in Mexico they have pretty much solved the critter crisis cause pups go everywhere with their humans and he almost never sees a beast on their heads -
 Djimah: But around here they just haven't figured out that WE could solve the problem - you almost never see pups in coffee shoppes here.
 Kenya: and we've never even SEEN the inside of a restaurant.
 Djimah: ...but there are those 'bags'...
 Kenya: "Doggie Bags" they call 'em. I don't know why... we don't get to see what's in them. Ever!
 Djimah: But we do get Pizza Bones sometimes...
 Kenya: That's cause our humans love us. They eat all the gooey stuff out of the pizza and save the best part for us. Anyway, we just thought you should know that WE think puppies ought to be brought into all the coffee shoppes to solve the critter crisis.
 Djimah: It's a sort of 'European Model', see. And we figure that if it's good enough for France...
 Kenya: ... it's good enough for Oswego!

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