I like my coffee black, but that was not always the case; I appreciate the smell and taste of coffee, but not like a sommelier taking time with a glass of wine. You don’t have to have an MFA or be an art historian to appreciate, nay love, art; you only have to be alive and willing to admire it. And so it is with me and coffee.

I know what I like and I know what I don’t like. Don’t ask me how the beans were roasted, where they are from or what kind of soil they grew in or who picked the beans. Ultimately, I don’t care. I do care, however, to have coffee throughout most of the day, and to enjoy it whether I am taking it in small doses like two friends who only have to say occasional words to feel connected, or I am downing it to jumpstart the aging battery within me.

It was the Christmas break of 1991, or was it 1990, when I transitioned from a four-sugars-four-creamers guy to a champion of black coffee. My then-mother in-law was pleased with the change as she said I ruined my coffee with all the additions. It took me about two swallows of black coffee to like it, though I had not enjoyed it in the past. I guess my mind was ready for it, further incentivized by the logic of leaving out all the sugar and fats that came with the additions to the coffee. Nowadays, when a waitress asks, “Would you like anything with your coffee?,” I simply reply with a smile, “A cup.”  Rarely has anyone missed the joke.

I love coffee as a companion on long drives, a hand-warmer on cold days, and sidekick as I write. During the COVID phase of life, I “discovered” black coffee “on the rocks,” so now I can enjoy coffee on a hot day, too.

Some people have bad breakups with coffee. My relationship with it is on more solid grounds, I guess. The other folks have headaches and grumpiness without coffee; I don’t have an issue if I miss a day or two. There are times when my body reminds me that too much companionship can be a bad thing so I will avoid coffee for a couple of days before welcoming it back into my life, and we greet each other on good terms.

That is a lot about a simple brown beverage, but that’s the point. There are a lot of simple pleasures in life, a lot to notice and be thankful for, to love as part of your life…whether it is a good cup of Joe, a walk in the rain, a good handshake, or the sound of trees outside your tent moving in the wind. I love all those, and more. 

This blog section is titled Philo, which is Greek for loving, as in love of: for example, philanthropy: love of people/humanity; philosophy: love of knowledge or wisdom. My writings for Philo examine “love of” many things — both subtle and sublime — that comprise life and living.

Check out my photographic project for the year, The Year of 70: Decades of Joy and Thanks.