New York cup of coffee

I have been to New York City twice this year. In all of my previous years I had been there but once, way back when I was a high school student from Nashville, Tennessee. My visits this year were short and of the economy sort of stay with my elderly Aunt. She is very frugal and prefers that we not spend a lot of money while there. During my first visit in February, we could not resist eating out several times and the food was delicious. I can remember even now how happy my taste buds were! This last time, I vowed to eat my Aunt's food. I tried, I really tried. But after two days, I was getting increasingly hungry. What was it that I was missing the most?

coffee!!!

Coffee at my Aunt's home is of the instant variety made from years-old Folgers-like crystals already mixed with big grains of dried milk. I tried mixing it in several strengths but the results were always dismal. So one afternoon, I told my Aunt I was going out to take photographs and left her napping peacefully on her living room sofa.

phew.....

Living in the upper west side, hundreds of little places resided within a short distance where I could find

coffee...

I found a little shop and ordered a bagel breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee. The man asked me if I wanted milk and sugar. My only experience with a restaurant that offers pre-loaded coffee is...I hate to admit it...McDonald's. But here they didn't ask how many creams and sugars. I decided to throw caution to the wind and see what happened. A table by the window allowed me to people-watch while enjoying my meal.

To my surprise, the coffee was perfect. Sweet and milky - just the way I like it - 'would you like some coffee with your cream' type of coffee!! I can honestly say, that cup of coffee tasted better than any that I can remember. Of course, much of that was due to circumstance but still...

Coffee is an important part of my life. It is something I enjoy each and every morning. With the exception of feeding my cats, making coffee is my first priority. (they won't let me make coffee first!) Memories involving coffee are scattered throughout my mind.

Like when I was quite young, I remember stealing a taste of my uncle's coffee that was left at the breakfast table on a warm sunny morning. He liked it just the way I do now!

Like when I started college, my English professor would stroll slowly around the classroom holding her cup of coffee, sipping while lecturing. For some reason, she struck me as being so elegant and intelligent. I picture her in my mind from time to time.

Like after college, during the hippie years, I remember buying coffee beans and grinding them with a hand grinder.

There are other stories and times in my life that are associated with coffee. My sons tell me I am addicted and I always agree but add that it seems like a harmless addiction. But now as I think about it, it is more than that, it is one of those little rituals that make up part of my life's fabric. Now I have woven in a few more threads.

Upper West Side

My trip to New York was quite the eye-opener. I truly felt that I was stepping into another world. I am not totally naïve to life in a big city but as a life-long suburbanite and sincere “nature girl” this is a very different way of life from mine. It hit me the second I walked off the plane into LaGuardia. People seemed to be packed into a very small space, piled on top of each other, constantly bumping into one another. The bus ride was even more crowded! I barely managed to get on the bus and had to settle for being bumped by the door each time it opened – at least until there was a net decrease in passengers and I finally got to sit down. At one point I was standing there, trying to keep track of my luggage, packed in like a sardine when I heard a public service announcement about the dangers of pick-pockets. As if I needed any more reason to be afraid and as if I could maneuver my luggage and body to protect it all! Then I got off the bus in Harlem, after dark (Oh NO!!) to catch the subway for the final leg to my Aunt’s apartment near 97th and Columbus in Manhattan. The only glitch was that I couldn’t find the entrance to the subway – did I ever feel stupid!! But I only wandered back and forth a couple ways before I saw the stairs down. They had been mostly hidden behind an elevator – I wasn’t expecting that!

If NYC isn’t enough of a difference, the next part of the experience was spending a few days in the world of the elderly who have short term memory loss and were born around the time of the stock market crash (that would be the crash of 1929, by the way) and belong to the pack rat syndrome otherwise known as collecting and storing all things that may be useful…someday. My Aunt is intelligent and interesting and very funny. We had a great time with her. Part of me was sad that these kinds of times were not more common throughout the years. She lived her life in NYC and most of the rest of the family stayed scattered out west. She never allowed visitors to her apartment until the last year when one of my cousins decided to check up on her. I think she has decided that she enjoys our company and so the benefits of the time together outweigh the work of clearing out space to house us. We showed up this time in a contingent of 6 including nieces, nephews, grandniece and grandnephews. The spaces were tight but we all had a sofa or space on the floor to sleep. We only had to share it with the mice - but that is another story.

p.s. don't think that this adventure was all uncomfortable - I had a fantastic time! I want to go back.