Cheap Man Farewell

21 March 2024

 Why am I so cheap?  I just now discovered an abiding pleasure, a simple delight, one so "singular-faceted" that I cannot imagine losing.  I am a sitting at my small, make-shift desk as a math sub at the local high school.  Students and I are working "together," each online, albeit inhaling the same air in the same classroom, working each man to himself on his government issued computer, on the same Delta Math exercises.  

I have a student account and the inimitable, distinctive joy of doing the same work as my students while they work quietly at their desks, in soft, relaxed communal conversation, most felicitous and convivial.

I couldn't tell you whether it was my twentieth or my thirty-first sip, but at one point when I was more focused on math, I tasted my French Vanilla decaf coffee and it dawned upon me that I am a devotee, something I could not allow myself over the past few decades to ever admit to myself. That means that I must needs cease my sporadic, resurfacing efforts to quit decaf coffee entirely, in honor of my wife's declarations to the effect that even decaf coffee has a significant percentage of caffeine and that the consumption of coffee disturbs one's digestive system, fomenting acid in excess of that which he likely needs for comfortable, effective digestion.  

Indeed, in loving my wife, I come to adopt her tastes, her preferences, and sally forth in the fuller mysteries of love even unto the adoption of her analytical methods, knowledge, and pragmatic value judgments. These parameters of pragmatic, quotidian life cannot but suffuse my being and permeate my physio-chemical body to every corner and crevice, percolating in vibrant joy there, heralding and proclaiming my capture in the love of my wife. 

I am reminded of a point of humor from the lips of a dear friend from my bohemian early-mid life epoch:  "Ordering decaf coffee in a true coffee spot near a large university, open late at night, a place committed to serving students and writers who stay up all hours is like going into a Western bar 150 years ago and ordering milk. 'Bartender! One milk please.' Everyone in the bar will turn to stare at you and you will be able to hear a pin drop.  If there is a bully in the saloon, he may well rise from his cards and saunter over to confront you." So when we drink decaf, we have to accept that there will always be some ineluctable effete factor that you will need to work into your self-conception, if only to iron out any potential disturbances, inequalities, or visible wrinkles in your working persona. 

   

But now with this crossroads swept by the wind at my back, I move ahead with my eyes on a new horizon, one of a more relaxed allotment for coffee on my the ledger of my budget.  Lowe's Foods has a special now, of 10 oz decaf coffee packages in various flavors at a savory Buy One Get One free discount that has tempted me to buy all they have.  However, with my wife's resounding admonition collected into a bugabear within my psyche, I could not heretofore ever have entertained such a notion with any sincerity.  No more.  This afternoon, I plan to drive to Lowe's Foods right after completion of my substitute duties and gather into my basket every decaf package from that special sale shelf. 

   I will even purchase all their whole bean packages and freeze them for long term keep.  And no more, the LORD willing, merely exist as a man so cheap.