Summer Food Fun and Drink Chapter 11 The downside of twitter · Saturday July 11, 2009 by colin newell
Here’s the thing. If I could sprout an extra lobe in my brain and actually incur the ability to distill my more cogent thoughts down to 140 characters…
I probably still would not twitter.
Because I just typed 140 characters and I haven’t said a golly dash thing!
And you know it.
A lovely young lady (and that fact is irrelevant) that I passed on Friday (on campus) mused that she twitters – but is pretty sure that…
a.) She has no followers
and
b.) No one would really care about what she wrote anyway.
And yet I know for a fact that she is usually surrounded by a gaggle of young men…
and she talks a lot to them.
And they listen with rapt interest.
Because she is interesting.
Intelligent.
And pretty. Not that this indelible fact matters.
There are a couple of other nagging problems with twitter (and, oh yea… Facebook).
They are over run by corporations. We know that Facebook is merely a data mining site used by the man to get more marketing info on us consume-droids.
And now large corporations are signing into twitter because they think it’s hip and it’s marketing ore rich for refining.
It is about as hip as my grand-dad rapping with Dr. Dre.
Bottom line – there is nothing useful anyone can say in 140 characters or less. And when millions and millions are doing it – it just makes it less relevant than space dust.
My opinion.
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Summer Food Fun and Drink Chapter 9 why I play the guitar · Tuesday July 7, 2009 by colin newell
Summer Food Fun and Drink 2009 Chapter 8 Challah Toast · Monday July 6, 2009 by colin newell
There are moments that redefine comfort – those soothing snapshots in life where everything is simply wonderful, carefree – that fleeting moment we are not troubled by school yard bullies, bees, taxes, looming deadlines, angry relations and unmet expectations…
They come at unpredictable times. That sweet moment of placation when your mother scoops you out of a roll of thorny brambles, and hugs each imagined injury better… the joy of a first unexpected kiss… graduation day… a job offer… the Sunny horizon of retirement.
And the first sip of black coffee on a fragrant Spring morning…
…followed by a anticipatory nibble of a City’s great French toast.
Except it isn’t really French toast at all. It’s Challah toast from the one of my favorite bakeries – Bubby Roses on Cook Street near Meares Ave.
And as much as I would like to quantify the isotopes that make up this place – to return to that place at will and relive that peaceful, easy feeling…
I can’t.
But I have discovered that this particular bakery is as reliable as gravity when it comes to delivering the goods…
whether it’s fresh bread, or a flour-less chocolate torte, a vegan brownie or a cup of Java thick enough to stop time – and it often does…
or the Challah bread: sweet as love, drizzled with Canadian Maple syrup, anointed with organic yogurt and circled with a phalanx of mixed fresh fruits worthy of breakfast plate greatness.
Pucker up Baby, it’s Challah time!
The “Feelings” of Shadegrown Coffee · Sunday July 5, 2009 by colin newell
There’s a scientific explanation about the convective clouds rising up from the ocean along the coffee growing slopes of our volcanoes in Kona, Hawaii every day; giving the needed shade and moisture for the quality coffee grown here. And then there are these wonderful sentences written by Jack London of how it actually FEELS like. For us humans and probably to our coffea arabica plants growing here as well. So while you read, imagine yourself being a… Kona coffee bean dangling from a branch.
“You cannot escape liking the climate… I warn you, if you have some spot dear to you on earth, not to linger here too long, else you will find this dearer.”…
“Where each day is like every day, and every day is a paradise of days,” he answered.
“Nothing ever happens. It is not too hot. It is not too cold. It is always just right. Have you noticed how the land and the sea breathe turn and turn about?”
Indeed, I had noticed that delicious rhythmic, breathing. Each morning I had watched the sea-breeze begin at the shore and slowly extend seaward as it blew the mildest, softest whiff of ozone to the land. It played over the sea, just faintly darkening its surface, with here and there and everywhere long lanes of calm, shifting, changing, drifting, according to the capricious kisses of the breeze. And each evening I had watched the sea breath die away to heavenly calm, and heard the land breath softly make its way through the coffee trees and monkey-pods…
Far above towered the huge bulks of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa, seeming to blot out half the starry sky. Two miles and a half above our heads they reared their own heads, white with snow that the tropic sun had failed to melt….
“Listen! Here comes the land-breath now, the mountain wind.”
I could hear it coming, rustling softly through the coffee trees, stirring the monkey-pods, and sighing through the sugar-cane. On the lanai the hush still reigned. Then it came, the first feel of the mountain wind, faintly balmy, fragrant and spicy, and cool, deliciously cool, a silken coolness, a wine-like coolness—cool as only the mountain wind of Kona can be cool.
“Do you wonder that I lost my heart to Kona eighteen years ago?” he demanded. “I could never leave it now. I think I should die. It would be terrible.”
(Excerpts from ‘The Sheriff of Kona’ by Jack London, 1908)
When working closely with coffee trees farmers tend to talk to them. Which goes waaay beyond simply hugging them, as any woman will verify. At BLUE HORSE KONA COFFEE we’re actually trying not to hurt our trees feelings either and waiting till they are really ready to separate from their beans. Just makes a better cup.
