Many of them chose to message me on facebook, which I dislike. They all get forwarded to my email anyhow, so it probably doesn't matter other than I disagree with middle management, both real and artificial.
But it feels strangely like more effort was made to email me. In reality, a similar number of keystrokes were probably made, so I shouldn't attach extra sentimentality, but I do.
Today I choose to honour the very best direct to me email I have received. It asks for my expert coffee advice. I have become semi famous for making fine coffee in the most unlikely places such as swamps, mountain tops, abandoned cabins, the middle of a forest fire. In fact, I have been known to make coffee before putting out the forest fire... you need to pause and calm down and plan shit out before you fight most forest fires. I will now digress from proclaiming my own fame.
Here is my friend's email to me. It is very well written with only the minimum amount of typos which is impressive as he is currently working for Alberta Forestry where spelling errors are mandated.
I didn't think it would happen to me. I thought I was stronger. I thought I could handle it. This summer, the coffee, the espresso. It was so good. I tried to pretend that it was just OK. That I wouldn't want it once the summer ended.
I would lie in bed at night, alone in my tidy bunk, shaking, waiting til morning to hear the snap and crackle sound of naptha heating the water to extract the cozy blanket goodness out of the rookie grounded beans. Then to couple that with a smoke of freshly rolled DRUM tobacco....words can not explain my friend.
A paranoid part of me thinks you planned this. A classic Pusher Ploy. Offer small 'doses' of the espresso..."Morning Tingley...want some coffee?"......"Coffee?"...."mmmm. This coffee is delicious" and so forth. Knowing all along that once the summer ended BAM no more coffee for two months and I would eventually have to come back to you to fill the void. Well you gave the man a fish and here I stand, Broken, Shameless, Wanting. Hook me up pusher. So Christina says the other day, "we should get an espresso maker". Out of the blue, well, close to Christmas mind you. Instantly it all came rushing back, the aroma, the taste, the comfort, tha accomanying cigarette.
Any suggestions on 'getting into' espresso? We don't even own a coffe maker jsut to let you know what your dealing with here.
I would lie in bed at night, alone in my tidy bunk, shaking, waiting til morning to hear the snap and crackle sound of naptha heating the water to extract the cozy blanket goodness out of the rookie grounded beans. Then to couple that with a smoke of freshly rolled DRUM tobacco....words can not explain my friend.
A paranoid part of me thinks you planned this. A classic Pusher Ploy. Offer small 'doses' of the espresso..."Morning Tingley...want some coffee?"......"Coffee?"...."mmmm. This coffee is delicious" and so forth. Knowing all along that once the summer ended BAM no more coffee for two months and I would eventually have to come back to you to fill the void. Well you gave the man a fish and here I stand, Broken, Shameless, Wanting. Hook me up pusher. So Christina says the other day, "we should get an espresso maker". Out of the blue, well, close to Christmas mind you. Instantly it all came rushing back, the aroma, the taste, the comfort, tha accomanying cigarette.
Any suggestions on 'getting into' espresso? We don't even own a coffe maker jsut to let you know what your dealing with here.
Then he added a link to this video.... don't spread for no roses, my friends.
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