Robert (gurdonark) wrote,

peppermint tea in the now-departed

The watch reads a quarter past ten in the morning. I surge with activity. I worked on a matter from the office this morning, making good progress on staying ahead of an impending due date. I also finished and posted a remix at called "Coffee Dream".

Coffee Dreams was the coffee shop a couple of blocks from us. We live in a yellow brick tract home, in a housing subdivision, next to a main but not overbusy road. A Kroger store anchors a small shopping center near us--a Fox Photo, a Blockbuster's, a Mexican restaurant which took the place of the much-beloved Persian restaurant, an ice cream store, and a toy store for particularly brainy children.

Coffee Dreams used to occupy a large space there. It was not in the "bohemian coffee shop filled with poets and screenwriters" model, nor even in the "every hip folksinger in town hangs out here" model. It lacked many of the attractive nuisances which distinguish such places, such as a regrettably curmudgeonly owner or signed pictures of celebrity visitors.

Coffee Dreams instead served as a suburban coffee shop, with live acoustic music free on Saturday evenings, comfortable sofas and chairs, and drinks featuring latte and curious global sweets which dissolved into caffeine. I don't drink coffee--which is to say, that I do not have a moral compunction about coffee passing through my lips, but instead to say that when given a choice I will always choose Diet Coke (my credo about alcohol is virtually the same--"no as in 'no, thank you' and not "no, as in 'good heavens never'!"). I rather wish, though, that Coffee Dreams still operated, so that I might sit, with a hot peppermint tea, and drink in the sound of someone's hammered dulcimer.

So many times people talks about bond issues and high finance to support the arts. But the arts are all around us.

gurdonark, 'coffee dream'.

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