This little jewel entered my life as a Christmas gift.
Mine included the cup; I don’t think that is standard equipment. I added the little rack deal. I love the thing; drinking coffee has returned as a fun and important part of my daily routine.
I bought this one for the lake; it didn’t come with a cup.
The one pictured is an old workplace cup; if you look close you can see the airplane. I used to help keep those things flying so we could be free to say what we wanted in blogs like this or wherever. This one didn’t drop bombs or shoot things; it just hauled gas to the guys that did the serious stuff. OK in about an hour it will be Independence Day, I am at the lake and someone was shooting fireworks a little early so I’m feeling a little patriotic; I’ll take off my red, white and blue suspenders and talk about coffee some more.
I didn’t drink coffee when I was a kid, my dad was the only coffee drinker in our home and I don’t think his was safe for children. Honestly I’m not sure I could handle it today.
I eased into this coffee drinking thing after I started working for a living. I started slow, drinking the stuff heavily laden with cream and sugar, I soon decided the there was no value added with the cream, and the sugar didn’t hang around much longer, so for the last 50 or so years it has been just “hot and black”.
For many years I worked for the U. S. Air Force. We always had coffee, but it didn’t come out of a nice break room, it usually came out of one of these or something similar
We found a corner of the office somewhere close to an electrical outlet to set the thing. We all chipped in to buy the pot and supplies. Making coffee and cleaning the pot were on the honor system; some were much more honorable than others. Rinsing probably better describes what we did than cleaning the pot. We didn’t have a kitchen, we had a dirty janitor closet or the bathroom, and neither place was suitable to clean a coffee pot or a coffee cup for that matter. I think everyone assumed the next guy would actually clean the thing.
Some only drank one or two cups a day, others (my group) cups were never empty and never cold and for some of us nothing goes better with coffee than a cigarette. As I reflect on those days I sympathize with the non-smokers. By late afternoon what was left in that 55-cup pot was some kind of rank; I’m not sure my dad could have handled it.
The pot wasn’t the only thing that had a little “personality” you should have seen our cups. I like the term “character” as I think about those things. I certainly wasn’t the exception and mine never saw soap and most of the time the water in that janitor closet was lukewarm at best. If I left less than a ¼ cup in it and there was no mold I didn’t even rinse the thing; just fill it up and hope it was hot enough to drink.
Those cups had character; you knew at a glance if it was Dave or Richard or Gene’s cup. If I saw it I wouldn’t take it to the owner; no way would I touch that nasty thing and they felt the same about mine. I might stop by his desk to tell him where it was; his co-worker might say he is out for a couple weeks. The cup would still be in the bathroom when he returned. Some awfully good science projects got flushed down the toilet; it is amazing how much mold can grow in one of those things in two weeks. You just kind of wiped the big chunks out with a paper towel and hoped the hot coffee sterilized it. Mine had a permanent ring about a third of the way down from that three week run to the South Pacific in ’84.
Sharyl didn’t drink coffee therefore she didn’t understand that cups have character she thought they should be treated like the rest of the dishes and washed after each use. We had this ten-cup deal, but like the cup Sharyl thought it should be clean.
I thought it was more trouble than it was worth. I would make a pot occasionally but after I retired most of my coffee came from 7-11 in a Styrofoam cup; talk about character.
I live alone now and neither of the cups pictured above have had anything more aggressive than a cold water rinse; they are beginning to build some character. Thanks, Rylie, for picking the dark color; your mom and aunt can’t see the character that is beginning to form unless they look real close. The black one here at the lake was selected for a reason, it is coming along slowly but there is progress.
I now have coffee pots that don’t need to be washed and a couple cups with some character. Drinking coffee is fun again.
Would I trade the cup with character for the days when Sharyl put it in the dishwasher with the other dishes? In a heartbeat, but that isn’t an option.
I hope you have a great Independence Day, say a prayer for me.
Good Night and God Bless.