BUZZ

We may all have stopped smoking, but we continue to burn.

Lucy Sante

I stopped drinking coffee about 16 months ago, upon the suggestion from my cardiologist. But I continue to buzz.

There is residual caffeine in the decaf, up to 10%. And like any drug, there is the life of the buzz and there is a half-life. I am here to say there is life in the half-life.

Coffee is ubiquitous. It is everywhere. I have heard there are people in this world who don’t drink coffee, but I can’t confirm this, as I don’t associate with those kind of people.

There are also those who say decaf is not real coffee. This comment from the same folks who think coffee needs milk, or cream, or cream and sugar to be palatable. Even lovers of Tim Horton’s coffee ( yes, they live) feel smug in their mug. Must I say that a Double Double is not coffee? It may be an identity, but it is not coffee. Not proper. Not as it should be enjoyed.

I am such a snob. I inherited it honestly from my Mother. Her vocabulary of the dismissal was legendary. She said more with an “ugh” than many scholars. Dismissal and loathing were lessons I learned at her lap, along with their good companions shame and guilt.

My Father was no stranger to an opinion. They bubbled forth from the font of his fatherhood. Or rather burst his damn. The Goddam. But my Mother, Mother Goddam, was sly, more subtle, more penetrating with her asides, her low breath commentary, her inside voices always on the edge of coming out.

She also drank decaf. Black like me. She was as white as the White Rock she was born on, but her coffee was black.

They say the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree. What is often unsaid is that the fruit also rots on the ground, blending in with the leaves and rain and animal excrement, enriching the fertile ground where the tree grows.