Coffee II, The Second Cup

I didn’t always drink coffee.  As a kid I supposed it was some esoteric elixir formulated to transform free spirited children into rancorous, chain smoking adults. For years I heretically considered it a bitter and obscene concoction. It took some time for me to accept the truth of its warm, loving, caffeinated embrace.

In Okinawa I was working in the Recon Operations Center on a midnight to noon shift when its deliciously insidious hold began to grip me. I had invested in a number of cans of Georgia coffee to keep my battery charged through the morning.

In Japan you can get nearly anything you desire in life from a vending machine: food, alcohol, tobacco, joy.  Coffee in a can is a big deal there. Georgia coffees come in various flavors and types as you can imagine. It’s a smorgasbord of delightfulness.

My first positive encounter was with a cafe latte in a can. From there my life began to subtly change. Little did I realize the seemingly innocent latte was merely a gateway beverage. Soon a mere latte wouldn’t suffice. I began to experiment with other types and brands: Emblem Blend, Platinum Blend, Mocha Kilamanjaro!

In Fukuoka, Japan I participated in a martial arts exchange with the Japanese Self Defense Forces. The Japanese have a thing about being good hosts. They will always ensure you are well fed and well lubricated. Well rested? Feh! That is something to do once you get back home.  After dinner and drinks we were informed this had only been the “first party” and we were moving on to attend the “second party”.  The second party was more food and booze but also karaoke and booze. Surely this could come to no good I thought. We had to fight all day the next day! We were going to demonstrate bayonet drills with live blades! I mentally prepared myself to bleed out on the mat the following morning.

At 0500 a caravan of corpses carpooled out to the Japanese base. “Bring out your dead!” Some of us had even slept a little. Listless and lifeless I shuffled into a vending machine. Mmmmm…Georgia…

After knocking back two cans of Emerald Mountain Blend I conversed in run on sentences for two straight hours.  Demonstrating pistol retention techniques, my buddy claimed I nearly ripped his arm out of its socket when I threw him over the horizon.

To this day I am a fan of Georgia Coffee’s wondrous powers.  A warm can of Georgia coffee is capable of generating so much joy it’ll make you want to kiss strangers on the mouth.

Semper Fidelis!
America’s 1stSgt

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14 comments

  1. I need a cup of coffee. I drink tea, the English kind, with milk and sugar, but it doesn’t get me like coffee does. Coffee understands me. And coffee doesn’t give me kidney stones like tea does.

    Unfortunately, my parents refuse to let me drink any of their coffee. They’re afraid I’ll get addicted, but aren’t I already addicted to tea? Gah! Parental logic makes no sense!

  2. I’d rather have a cup of tea and a nice sit down, thankyouverymuch.

    Snogging strangers is all well and good, but i don’t think my mother would approve of such antics. Or my husband, i expect.

  3. Lin, we’ll just operate under the assumption it just THAT good. 😉

    Erika, sounds like an excuse your parents use to horde all the good stuff for themselves! Not that I blame them.

    Magoo, I used to scoff at the concept of ‘tea time’ until I went to England and experienced it. It is a fine pillar of Western Civilization.

    Book, was there ever any question about my correctness?

  4. Just curious as “back in the day” (68/69) was station across Hakata bay from Fukuoka (14th ASAFS which was on a AF admin. annex from Itazuke AFB, which was 4 service, mostly Army but some AF, Navy and lots of USMC). What Japanese base were you at? Is it the old Itazuke AFB?

  5. I don’t know what the other branches call it, but the AF conducts periodic PME classes (Professional Military Education).

    During my first PME course, I drank coffee to stay awake for 2 weeks of classroom instruction, and didn’t touch it again for years.

    The next PME course was 6 weeks long and since then I’ve been drinking it every morning.

  6. “I thought that was beer?”

    Grandma was devout church of Christ. The church that doesn’t have musical instruments in worship services.

    I doubt she’d had anything alcohol to drink since the time she left Texas in the middle of the Dust Bowl.

    In Texas, she was a moonshiner and a well digger, so can’t account for that particular part of her life.

    But anyway, she did say coffee was *one* of the many proofs.

    -Grimmy

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