Java Fired and Wired!

Lindsay swills the first cuppa joe at home as she races out the door for a 7 am (who's bright idea was that) meeting at the local LePeeps. Then it's coffee break time, a jumbo iced tea at lunch, two meetings at Starbucks and dinner with a Diet Coke. She finds she can't sleep.

Wonder why. If she were taking her speed in pill form, we'd say girlfriend was "tweaking."

Schedules are more java-fired than ever with people drinking enough caffeine to rev-up a flagging Little League team. We're overworked, to be be sure, and now we're sleep-deprived, needing more caffeine to get us started. We find ourselves cruising for a buzz the way a newly-minted non-smoker hovers of a full ashtray.

Even after-work networking meeting see us drinking Bud Extra, Van Gogh vodka. Red Bull has become our idea of a nice mixer or a great chaser. There are Buzz Donuts (is nothing sacred?). And even lip balm has been spiced up with a jolt of Vitamin Caff. That last one is just wrong.

This is the funny part: in 1674, coffee was seen as a "newfangled, abominable, heathenish liquor" by those in polite society. Men spent more time in coffee shops than in bars, raising the ire of their genteel wives.

I remember my introduction to coffee. I was about 4 when Momma gave me my first cup. It was mostly milk, with sugar and a little vanilla. I can still smell it--warm and sweet. When our neighbors (French and Greek) offered me a cup (I was visiting, a small quiet child with wide eyes), I just knew I had to have it. They even had these beautiful Lita-sized coffee cups and saucers. They were espresso cups and the coffee was Turkish. After listening to me tell her every thought that had ever been in my tiny noggin at any point during the first five years of my life, my Mother took me back over to the neighbors house and explained that they could keep me until I came up for air and stopped talking.

The neighbors are still scarred.

I have to admit: I've got a tea jones going. Chai's my thing, with the anise, cinnamon, clove and black peppercorns. Served over hot soy milk (Lewis Black contends that this isn't "milk" but soy juice--just doesn't sound as good, though) and lots of honey. I have a wonderful travel mug, a Commuter, Double-Shot, Stainless Steel French Press. I can load up enough loose tea (or coffee for you other people) into the sealed compartment at the bottom, and then all I need is hot water throughout the day. Gives me enough for 3 cups of steaming joy.

My point? Hmmmm...

Coffee -- good! Sleeplessness -- bad!

Yeah (sip). That's the ticket.