The Morning Cup of Coffee

“Few things in life rival the joy of the First Taste.” Anonymous

This morning I had coffee with Elvis.

The bedside alarm rudely jolts the beginning of a new day. Cursing the intrusion, we stumble in a sleep-induced stupor to the savior of another day: The morning cup of coffee…at least that’s how my day usually begins.

Before Mr. Coffee completes its cycle, I’m pouring that dark elixir into the cup of new beginnings. I lace it with honey made by bees in the dark Tupelo swamps of Florida and mingle it with decadent English cream…The King’s brew. Ah, the first sip, and the day’s possibilities come to life!

You’re reading this with a sort of mild contempt because you despise coffee. No, you’re one of those who prefers an Earl Grey tea, or perhaps the tasteless Green Tea from Asia. But is not your first sip just as meaningful?

Maybe you’re a 7-11 Big Gulp junkie, where everything goes better with Coke. Tell me, is your first sip not special? Or perhaps your favorite day-starter is OJ from the sandy hills of South Florida, or any of the many varieties of juices, each complete with their own carcinogenic compounds. What is your first taste like? I thought so.

Like many things in life, if not most, the “first taste” provides the true but ephemeral essence of the moment. Soon our chosen morning gratification becomes less pleasurable, often wretched, by over-indulgence. No, sucking up the last dregs of “whatever” is not nearly as satisfying as the first taste…Amen?

The day moves on and more “first tastes” occur: like food, friends, business associates and the multitude of other encounters life offers up daily. Sundown signals that perhaps a more appropriate libation might be necessary for the moment. A particular favorite of mine was always a Miller Lite—nothing quite compares with its frothy first taste, but it’s downhill from there. Hey, you have your own first-taste preferences, but you know what I mean.

As to food, especially desserts, I must confess my youthful lust for chocolate pudding my mother made for after-school snacks. I would beat my brother to it and eat his portion before he got home. Big brothers have license do these things. But my daddy finally broke me from this heinous crime by once forcing me to eat every single dish. To this day chocolate pudding holds no appeal for me…first or last tastes!

Life offers up a lot of “first tastes.” Remember your first kiss—Wow! Or the first cigarette, or prohibited beer, you sneaked from your parents? How about your first car, or your first….you know, that back-seat encounter you kept secret? You’re smiling now! And the list goes on forever.

Yet the point of it all is that no matter how repetitive our lives are, nothing quite replaces the memory of the first taste. And it is an undeniable fact that the most pleasant of first tastes soon cease to satiate. But not everything…some things are new every morning.

Which brings me back to Elvis. His picture stares from the coffee cup. The cup is an investment made by my wife from the dwindling stock of the last known Stuckeys before it finally vanished from earth. It was purchased out of a guilty conscience for having used the facilities. I like this cup because it never ceases to remind me of the first time I heard Heartbreak Hotel, my first taste of genuine rock n’ roll. I was 13 years old. The King inspired my two bands, “The Saints” in high school, and “The Shades” in college. Those first tastes still linger, and for me, so does Elvis.

The morning cup of coffee…what a way to start the day, and a way to end this Vignette of Absurdity! Bottoms up!


Bud Hearn
May 5, 2009