Coffee Snobs R Us

In the past several years I have heard more than one business consultant extol the genius of Starbucks and the experience based model that they believe drives their success in business. Frankly the idea of ordering my coffee with Italian words for the sizes is a bit pretentious in my opinion. Granted, the environment is comfortable, the music is good, but the coffee—the coffee is addictive.

Day four of our road trip finds us in Missouri. An emergency BCO directive (see the blog on the receiving principle) stops us at a gas station to fill up and deal with biological urgencies. Although we have purchased gas we suffer the guilt of having facilitated the proprietor’s utilities without additional purchases. At 7:30 am there is only one purchase that makes sense and that is coffee. I step to the coffee bar and note the adjectives describing the lava hot liquids inside and choose the one that I discern to be the boldest

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I have a friend who drinks his coffee black. His comment is “I want no chemical pollutants in my coffee.” I respect that. I have another friend that only uses light cream. In fact, we met eons ago at the coffee bar at Hope Chapel in Nashua, NH. Andy was wearing a large green army parka. He poured his coffee and reached to the inside pocket and pulled out a small container. I watched with great interest, as supplementing beverages from small containers was not a behavior with which I was unfamiliar. However, small hidden containers to supplement coffee at church—this was a new adventure. When Andy realized that he was caught, he said, “It’s cream. I don’t do powder in my coffee.”

I responded, “Hit me!” Andy shared his cream and we have relished our friendship for twenty years now, and many gallons of coffee with cream. But I wander—back to Missouri.

I pass on the powdered creamer—thank you Andy—and cap my cauldron of hot liquid and set out down the road. Cup in cup-holder, westward bound, cruise control set I reach for the beverage and that first, I wish my lips were made of asbestos, sip. “AUGH%#*@(*^%!” In the court of culinary law there is not enough evidence to convict this liquid of being coffee. In the Midwest the word coffee is defined as a hot brown liquid with no discernable flavor that you drink in the morning for God knows what reason. Then it hits me….

HI. MY NAME IS DAVID AND I AM A COFFEE SNOB! That’s right. I drive the interstate looking for the green circle with a star that points the way to what Graham Cooke describes as his favorite church St. Arbucks. I am a convert. I am not a missionary yet as I practice my rituals in small groups and one on one meetings. I am not sure what kind of commitment is required, but evidently I am ready to make it. As Graham says, “It’s a lot less expensive than regular church, and often times much more anointed.” But the bottom line is—it’s all about the coffee.

Thank you Jack Taylor:

Ginger and I are on a road trip. This is the most recent of many in our 35 years of our journey. Road trips can be the best of times and the worst of times. Our experience tends toward the best of times. I genuinely enjoy her company.

As I ruminate on our experiences driving, driving, driving to places, I wonder “what is the origin of the word “companion”. I learned that it comes from the latin word companionem (nom. companio), lit. "bread fellow, messmate," from L. com- "with" + panis "bread." (thank you dictionary.com). Sharing bread—a key component of a covenant meal—seems a fitting handle for our relationship. We are companions.

In our transcontinental transporter we listen to music and lectures; pause the music to talk and listen to our thoughts and dreams and expand our shared understanding; listen to our bodies’ rhythms. The latter requires a biological tag team approach in which the BCO (bladder control officer) is an office that passes from one traveler to another on a discretionary basis, learning to feel one another’s pain. Sometimes we just sit next to one another and say nothing.

Which brings me to Jack Taylor:

Early in our marriage, a friend gave us a teaching tape by Jack Taylor called “The Receiving Principle”. This teaching has contributed as much to our well being as a couple as anything I can remember. The receiving principle is rooted in Genesis chapter 2 where God gifts woman to man because he was incomplete on his own. Jack draws from this story a principle. When God puts two people together in marriage they often have conflicting traits than can grind on one another. The man who is punctual is mated to the woman who is always late. The woman who is fastidious and neat inevitably connects with a man who is organizationally challenged. The spender marries the tightwad. You get the picture, and if you are an observer of people you know that this is an almost irrefutable law of nature. Opposites attract.

Jack says this is God’s design in order to help us complete one another. (Rene’ Zelwiger had it right in Jerry McGuire). His key to the process, the receiving principle, is to receive your mate as God’s perfect gift to you. Understanding that of the 6 billion or so people on earth, the person next to you is perfect for you makes the differences take on a different hue. When you are thankful for the person (and the differences) it changes you. As God changes you, more often that not, your companion changes too. It causes for Mr. Punctual to say, “I would rather be late with this person than be on time with anyone else in the world.” Mrs. Neatnik realizes, “Living with this slob is better than having a clean house with anyone else that God could have given me.” This realization opens the door to love, acceptance and forgiveness at new and deeper levels—further up and further in.

We heard this early. We have learned it over and over and over. We have not always expressed it perfectly, but we get it. I can truly say that my companion and I have shared our bread for nearly 34 years and she is without a doubt one of the most remarkable human beings I have ever known. She is God’s perfect gift to me. We are as opposite as you can design—way to go Dad. Admittedly there are days when she does not see me as her winning lottery ticket, and there are days when I may not fully appreciate her giftedness. However we have years together to show that the principle is valid. God willing we have many more to keep working on it. We have children and friends that bear witness to the reality that it works. The receiving principle—Thank you Jack! Thank you Lord!

Seasons

The seasons they go round and round, and the painted ponies go up and down,
We are on the carousel of life. Joni Mitchell

Yesterday Ginger and I went to the decommissioning of a church in Londonderry, NH. We were a part of the team in 1998 that planted that church and we served there for just over three years as it became established. It was one of four church plants we have participated in since 1989. Three of the four no longer exist. One is still going and there are other offshoots that we were not directly involved with. Our role was mainly supportive of the leaders who took great risks to establish groups in what most would consider a difficult area for such endeavors.

As I sat and listened to the words being said, heard the words of the heart that were not being said, I probed my own heart. What is the fruit of two decades of focus which consumed enormous quantities of time, energy and money--not to mention hopes and dreams? Three out of four churches are gone.

I looked around the room and remembered.

I saw a vibrant young woman who is in her first year at university. I remembered visiting her mother in the hospital when she was born. I remember sitting with her parents when her grandmother died. Listening to her father as we discussed his plan to start his business, which still thrives.

I had a conversation with a young lady who had been in my Sunday School class who was telling me with enthusiasm of her plans to join the navy and work in naval intelligence.

I discussed difficult issues of the day with a pastors wife who is engaging her world in a creative and dynamic way. I was remembering her wedding day--we were there. I remember how smitten her husband was when he first met her at our church meetings--he is still smitten.

All afternoon I reconnected with people with whom I am connected. From the standpoint of religious score keeping we are batting a meager .250. But as I spent the afternoon in the presence of fellow sojourners, I realized that our purposes and hopefully God's purposes had indeed been fulfilled. When we moved to New England our theme came from Psalm 37:

Trust in the LORD and do good; Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness. Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, Trust also in Him, and He will do it. (Psa 37:3-5)

I was surrounded by the faithful. A faithfulness that had been cultivated by all of us together as we passed the seasons on the carousel of life. I was surprised that I was not saddened. Frankly, in my opinion, the world needs not another religious group nearly as much as people who will trust in the Lord and do good. I experienced the joy of the journey in a new and surprising way. I sensed the Father's pleasure in his children. "Trust also in Him, and He will do it!" Good job Dad!

Viva Madiba!

There are times in my life where I realize that what I thought, or was led to believe, was off target. I recently went to see the movie "Invictus" with Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon. It is a story of Nelson Mandela during the first year of his Presidency in South Africa. I recommend the film highly. It is one of the best dramatizations of the power of forgiveness that I have seen in recent years.

I was so impressed by the portrayal of President Mandela's character, I went to my local library and checked out his autobiography, "The Long Walk to Freedom". My first awareness of South Africa's struggle was in the late 60's and 70's when the quest for freedom in that country was coming to a head. I did not know that that conflict had been going on since the 1920's and that Nelson Mandela had been a leader in that effort since the 1940's. Much of what I heard through the media, as it turns out, was biased and often false.

I came away from the book (a 635 page odyssey) with a sense of remorse that in a civilized world that the subjugation of a people would be tolerated as it was for over a century. I was humbled by the patience and longsuffering of the African people under the iron fist of the National Party. Through it all, Mr. Mandela fought for the rights of people under the rule of law, even in prison. When he became president, he fought for the rights of his former oppressors against the popular mood that they should be punished.

Some books changes the reader. Old paradigms sometimes melt like an icicle on an eave, and sometimes they shatter as it turns loose and hits the sidewalk. This book did a little of both for me. The abuse of one people by another for economic, political or prejudicial reasons will be a force in our world as long as there are people, I suppose. Our people are just as guilty of the same offenses over the years. That does not make it right. "The Long Walk to Freedom" has helped me to view these situations differently. (Madiba is a term of respect for Nelson Mandela attributed to his tribal royal lineage)

What happens in Vegas Part II: Ears to Hear

Ginger and I had a couple of hours before our rendezvous with the Cirque so we decided to stroll over to Caesars Palace and see the 50,000 gallon salt water aquarium. We got there at feeding time as the diver hand fed the stingray. Very cool.

As we were leaving a very cheesy display ala Disney animated characters spouting atlantis mythology, we noticed that the three men in front of us wore kilts. This did not strike us as that unusual. Upon closer examination, I saw that one of them carried a bagpipe.

I walked up to him and asked, "Will you be piping tonight?"

His reply, "I'll pipe any time for anyone!"

I responded, "How about now?"

"You don't think they will chuck me out, do you?" he asked.

"Of course not!", was my confident rejoinder.

Then in the middle of the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace, Grace appeared.





I ran into him later and learned that his name is Andrew and is from Edinborough. He was in town for a rugby match. I can't remember having more fun walking through a mall in my entire life.

What happens in Vegas Part I: Eyes to see

Sometimes the shortest distance between two points is not a straight line. Sandwiched between a business meeting in Orange County and time in our AZ winter home, we found ourselves with a few days to spend. As much as we love New Hampshire, we decided that going back for four days to more snow was not our first choice. Ergo, a few days in Las Vegas seemed just the ticket.

This is my first visit and my impression is that it is like a Disneyland for adults--thousands of people walking around looking for something that will make them happy. I am not a gambler. Ever since I lost my weekly grocery money in a card game back in college I have had a subconscious fear of hanging around in a cafeteria bumming food.

Our chosen form of entertainment tends toward shows and people watching. Vegas is an excellent venue for both. We were searching for people who looked happy. There could have been a lot of happy people there but it was difficult to tell by their faces. Our observation was that there were more Japanese happy people than Caucasian happy people during our time there. Especially the Japanese people for whom we snapped pictures in front of the fountains. We sat next two four Japanese girls at a buffet where we had lunch. They would retrieve food, take pictures of the food, then taste it. At one point they had a dozen desserts in the center of the table to photograph them, then they each sampled every dessert. They were having a lot of fun. So were we. (that would be six happy people)

Money is the dominant force in Vegas. People want it, spend it, lose it, make it. I read that the backbone of the gaming economy is the slot machine. Most slot machines cost 1 to 25 cents per play. On the backs of the 1-25 cent decisions spectacular temples rise out of the desert as a testimony to people's regard for and desire for money.

I have long believed that money is an amplifier. It makes a person more of what they already are. For instance, if a person is generous, more money will make them more generous. If a person is a greedy, they will become more greedy. Which brings me to my story today. Ginger and I were filling the time between our lunch and the 7:30 presentation of Cirque de Soliel's "O". We went outside and stationed ourselves front and center in front of the Bellagio. Every hour on the hour, the fountain erupts into an aquatic dance of light and droplets orchestrated by who knows how much hydraulic horsepower under the surface of the man made pond. As the street was filled with beautiful music, I was mesmerized by the creativity and the magnitude of the palette on which the artist displayed their vision. A Sample:




I was overwhelmed with the beauty and creativity on display. It would be easy to say that this multi-million dollar extravaganza is a waste of money. I prefer to say that this money has amplified the creativity of talented people to extract beauty from pumps and water, light and music. It was a moment to appreciate the seeds of the Creator sprouting in the middle of the desert.

Visions of Things to Come

This past weekend we enjoyed a visit with our son and helped with an early start of the celebration of Reese's fourth birthday. Watching our childrens' children is a favorite activity. Sometimes you can get to see characteristics in them that you recognize in their parents and others that are uniquely theirs.

On returning from lunch, there was the odor of an overheated electrical motor in the kitchen. The adults set about sniffing and searching for the culprit. Reese, however, immediately went to the playroom and donned her fireman's helmet. She didn't say much, just stood in the kitchen with a concerned look on her face while we sorted out the source of the problem. In her mind there was obviously only one thing to do when you smell smoke! She was calm and collected, and obviously prepared. I am sure there are very few emergencies that a 4 year old with a fireman's hat and a "Hello Kitty" tee shirt cannot handle.

As Adam evaluated the situation he decided that the smell was coming from the refrigerator. He removed some plates and cleaned out around the coils. Obviously this is too big a job for one man. Hudson was more than willing to assist. You can see in the picture to the left that the project goes much smoother with a capable supervisor on location. It is important that inexperienced repairmen have the proper tools with which to work. Hudson was able to select the right implement and instruct the laborer on its proper use.



It is comforting to know that my son and daughter-in-law are in such good hands. I can rest well knowing that the fireman and repairman are on call.