Coffee Shop

Spring

Winter was beginning to turn. You could tell by the dawn that was breaking out earlier by the day. There was still nip in the air that was not likely to dissipate for at least a few more weeks. But weekend mornings have a charm waiting and welcoming. I was up and about ready to percolate my coffee in the kitchen. To my surprise, the coffee container was empty.

Freddie our one year old lab-poodle mix, a labradoodle, was confused. The sound of percolating coffee was as much his routine as mine. The machine would start up and then I would take him for a walk. Freddie continued to stare in puzzlement at the silent coffee machine as I proceeded to leash him on the way out. This was not how it was supposed to be. The coffee pot was supposed to start making a 'chuff-chuff' noise, and then the leash was supposed to go on.

As we stepped out, we heard the onset of spring that brought its own set of sounds to the street. Gone were the mountains of piled up snow that had been swept to the side walk and gone was the soft crunch of boot on ice as people made their way about. Instead it was the tweet of birds and the cheeps of squirrels that Freddie cocked his ears at.

Shop Around the Corner

Right down the hill from us is a small strip of shops. The morning was busy with pedestrian of all stripes milling about. Folks walking their dogs. Joggers, bicyclists, newspaper vendors, the street was full of life. Tucked in the corner was the coffee shop. It was set up to be the opposite of a cash and go coffee shop for the busy commuter. Rather with plenty of seating space, working tables, sofas and a balcony, it was a place that welcomed its visitor for a stay.

I tied Freddie to the bicycle rack outside the window of the coffee shop. He struck a familiar posture of sitting on his haunches as he awaited my return. Instead of coming right back out, I sat on the inside by a large glass window separating me and him on the outside. HIs nose was not of much use, however he caused a patch of mist to cover up the glass as he crept closer to it and try to sniff at me.

I proceeded to open the weekend newspaper and let the world and its trouble wash through me along with the hot steaming coffee.

Stroller City

A mom with a stroller struggled into the coffee shop. With the economic distress, the urban flight seemed to have reversed itself. Rather than flee the city to the suburbs or the ex-urbs, young parents were coming back to the urban areas. The neighborhood was a virtual stroller city.

The stroller was a twin stroller with one seat behind the other. The label stroller did not do justice to this contraption. It had so many things going on with straps, cups, holders and storage space that I would not have been surprised if it was capable of being flown remote control.

Where was the dad, I wondered, as I watched the mom struggle into the shop. Was he snoring in bed, enjoying the peace, while mom was up and about with the twins? Golly - he better watch what he says when she gets back. Not anything like, "honey, you got the white sugar with the coffee, you know that I like the brown raw stuff ...."

Not surprisingly the mom was able to fit an order worthy of a Costco purchase into the stroller and presently made her way out of the store.


Wired to the Gills

I was finished with the main section of the newspaper. I folded up that piece with a few choice curses under my breath towards the brainless politicians and their knee-jerk reactions. I imagine that the Wall Street Journal took the exact opposite view of what this newspaper had to say.

I walked out of the shop, petted Freddie and fed him a piece of cheese. It takes very little for him to be happy. I left his gently swishing tail to return to my coffee and opened the business section of the paper.

Presently, a young professional walked into the coffee shop in a suit and tie. Suit and tie on a weekend morning? Where was this young whipper snapper off to? He was loaded to the gills with electronics paraphernalia. He had a blue tooth in his ear. He had something strapped to his belt. He had in his hands a blackberry and a phone. He was carrying a laptop case presumably with a laptop in it. He was texting on the phone and placing his order at the same time.

I do admire people with the ability to multi-task. President Obama famously made a point about doing so during the presidential debates with Senator McCain. But I do wonder if with all these electronic gadgets if we are always distracted, always a 'node' in a vast electronic-human network and never actually in the moment, never actually enjoying that cup of coffee to its fullest.

The young professional's telephone jingled to the opening score of the hit-movie, 'Iron Man' as he said, "I am on my way dude....' as he stepped out of the coffee shop, a veritable signpost of flashing lights and electronic vibrations.


Mirror

I was flipping over to the sports section to catch-up on the March Madness college basketball bracket. I remember a time when sports and development in sports occupied a large part of my mind space. It is interesting as we grow older how other priorities fight for shelf space and attention of our minds. Yet there is some innocent joy in following one's favorite sports team and worrying about their chances in that year's league rankings.

There is also a nice seasonal routine that the world appears to have settled into. Baseball and Cricket in the summer. Hockey and Football in the winter and so on. In fact my wife is mystified why every Sunday afternoon, without fail, there is a can't-miss-once-in-a-lifetime dramatic finale on TV of a some sports event or the other that prevents me from doing anything other than veg in from of the tube.

I looked up from the sports section and scanned the coffee shop. In the balcony above I noticed another array of tables and chairs - a seating area with a nice perch over the coffee shop. I spotted a man seated at one of the tables reading his own weekend paper.

In an instant our eyes met as we scanned across the vista. I had a sudden surge and shock of recognition even though the man was a perfect stranger to me. I did not have to see or learn more to be dead certain that this person was enjoying the morning observing people and events in the coffee shop as much as me. My solitude and privacy thus broken and with my coffee cup empty, I felt my stay at the coffee shop had come to an abrupt but natural end.


Spring-Back

I walked out to Freddie who was delighted to see me come out. How he is built to be relentlessly happy and show such unconditional love, I do not know. But I am glad for it. As people filed in and out of the coffee shop, I unbuckled Freddie's leash from the bicycle rack, and newspaper folder under my arm, him trotting by my side, headed back home.