Coffee


Dr. D.’s favorite household appliance.

I never used to drink coffee until I discovered its magical powers of keeping me awake after sleep-depriving nights and its ability to make me look pensive and meditative while reading in the coffee shop. While I do enjoy the coffee that baristas offer, I always prefer to drink my own home-brewed concoction. I don’t know why, but my coffee tastes better to me than even the most expensive gourmet coffee at any coffee shop.

I love to lounge around the house in the morning sipping at my coffee while I read my e-mail before I go out for my morning run. I used to have a Mr. Coffee with a timer that my mother-in-law gave me for my birthday, but then she died, I got divorced, and my Mr. Coffee stopped working.

So, I decided to splurge on a new coffee maker. I bought a Cuisinart Grind and Brew coffee maker in 2003 and enjoyed its coffee until about three months ago. It had a timer, so I was able to set it up the night before and literally wake up and smell the coffee. About two years ago, my beloved Cuisinart stopped functioning like new and I tried to fix it–following in my father’s footsteps–but I was lucky to put it back together again without improving its performance. The only thing I got out of the experience was a headache, minor cuts on my fingertips, and a very lame blog entry. But I continued using the coffee maker until about two months ago when I could no longer disassemble the grinder to wash it. I tried everything to pry it out, but it was more stubborn than me.

Finally, I decided to buy another coffee maker. This was my chance to try a new brand, but I loved my Cuisinart so much that I decided to buy the exact same model again. I bought it in 2003 for $125 plus sales tax. So, I expected to pay much more in 2008. Surprisingly, that model was still about the same price at most stores, but I like shopping online and I noticed that amazon.com sold it for $119, with no sales tax and no shipping charges.

Then, I noticed that they also sold a refurbished version of the same model. I was incredibly surprised to discover that a refurbished coffee maker cost more than a new one: $144! Obviously, I bought a new one. I received it at my door within three business days! I happened to be home at the time and the UPS guy put the package directly in my own hands! I was glad I bought the new model because Cuisinart had improved its performance ever so slightly, but enough to make a notable difference that was apparent from the first cup of coffee. In fact, I burned myself with the very first sip. I didn’t realized the my old coffee maker was no longer making very hot coffee. Wow! Hopefully, I’ll get at least five years out of this one.

DDR

Work


Dr. D. running for the Beatrice Corporate Marathon Team.

I’ve often heard that “work” is a four-letter word. No wonder I try to avoid it at all costs. But wait, “word” is also a four-letter word! Hm. And so is “four!”

The more I think about work, the less I like it. I’ve worked all my adult life despite never having a job that I really loved, or at least liked even a little bit. I mean, I can work extremely hard as long as what I do isn’t classified as “work.” If I have to do physical or intellectual labor for someone else, and hopefully, for a salary, I’m unhappy and resentful.

I can work out all day just for the fun of it because I’m doing it just for me. Years ago, when I ran marathons, I used to run more than one-hundred-mile weeks just because I loved running marathons and I wanted to run my fastest marathon possible.

One of my pet peeves of having a job is having a boss who bosses me around. But worse than me being ordered about by someone on a power trip who loves to exert his or her authority just to show everyone who’s the boss, is having me in charge and having me order people around.

When I worked at the peanut butter factory, I did repetitive, monotonous manual labor. My first job was stacking sixty cases of peanut butter on wooden pallets. Each case weighed about forty pounds. I learned how to save a step here, an arm movement there. When you work eight hours doing manual labor, every motion adds up. That was the only way to conserve my energy so I wouldn’t wear myself out. Sometimes when the assembly line broke down, I got to rest awhile. Eventually, I brought a paperback with me so I could read during my breaks and whenever the line was down. Well, my bosses couldn’t stand to see me sitting there doing nothing, so they would always find something for me to do like sweep the floor, stack pallets up, etc. Well, no matter how many things I was supposed to do during that downtime, I always figured out a way to do everything more efficiently. No matter. I still always had time to sit and read. My boss finally gave up on finding more tasks for me.

My mother used to get mad at me because I didn’t aspire to get promoted or take better paying positions such as mechanic. My mother coached me as to what to say whenever I was approached to advance on the job. The boss would usually ask if I could do a certain task and I was supposed to answer, “No, but I can learn!” Every time I was asked, I would say, “No, I don’t know how.” “Would you like to learn?” “No.” And that would be the end of my climbing the company ladder.

Somehow, my mother would always find out about my new job offer and yell at me for not accepting the promotion. She would call me lazy and unambitious. Back then I was really into kung fu, so on my days off I would work out all day. I want to build up my endurance and stamina. In fact, at work I could work tirelessly for hours. Then, one day, against my wishes–due to a shortage of manpower–I was promoted to assistant foreman on one of the peanut butter production lines. Suddenly, I found myself having to boss my fellow employees around. And they didn’t like it! They liked me well enough as a coworker but hated me as their boss. One likely reason was because I was younger than them. I was caught in the middle. My boss would give me orders to get certain things done, and I had to make the workers work. Well, absolutely no one obeyed any of my commands. So, silently, I started doing all the work that had to be done. And everyone just watched me. I didn’t complain. I just kept working, minding my own business. I didn’t know what else to do. At least, I wouldn’t get in trouble for not working. Eventually, everyone started working alongside me. I was shocked! When we were done, the foreman showed up and congratulated us on a job well-done. After that, I never bossed anyone around, but everyone did their job before I even had to tell them. Go figure!

DDR

UIC Chess Club


My high school chess set

Well, last night I played chess again at the UIC Chess Club. It was my first time in about thirty years playing at a chess club. Yes, I was a bit rusty. And no, my moves didn’t suddenly come back to me. But I’m glad I went. I need some sort of intellectual stimulus to exercise my mind. I mean I go running to exercise my body, so I want my mind to be healthy, too. I enjoyed playing chess last night. I was easily the oldest one in the room. But I got along well with everyone there. I plan to play chess every Tuesday from now on. But I’m promising myself not to get too involved with chess so that it becomes an obsession. That’s why I haven’t played chess for years. I’m afraid to become addicted to it–again!

DDR

Writing letters


My best friend!

I don’t know why, but Mexicans find it difficult to write letters to each other.

When I left Mexico, both times, I said I would write back and send pictures. Well, it took me a while took write back, but I finally wrote back! And guess who wrote back? One cousin to whom I didn’t even write. So, I felt guilty and wrote her a letter.

I wrote to my aunt and then she relayed a message to my cousin who e-mailed me telling me that my aunt said hello. This same aunt still had letters that I had written to her thirty years ago. They were tucked away in her picture box along with my Chicago Marathon medal, which I have no idea how she obtained it. Perhaps, I gave it to my mother before she went on one her trips to Mexico.

Now it’s starting to come back to me. My mother said if I wanted to give something to my aunt, so I gave her my marathon medal. Actually, it was a lot easier than writing a letter. Even with the Internet, we don’t seem to be writing to each other any more frequently. I still have a long list of relatives to whom I will write before my next visit. But even if I don’t, we’ll pick up the conversation right where we left off the last time. My cousin likes to IM me and that’s fine when I have time. It is a lot easier than writing letters.

Running


95 degrees, but I finished 8th in 2:44!

I’m enjoying my summer vacation from teaching so far. I get up whenever I feel like. I have a cup of black coffee while I rub the sleep from my eyes. I more or less kill time and stall before I go out my front door for my morning run before it gets too hot out.

Lately, I’ve been slowing down on my runs. I’m not sure if it’s due to age and/or allergies. Of course, I’ve had these experiences before, even when I was in my twenties.

I have been running, on and off again, since high school. I first started running competitively at Divine Heart Seminary when I joined the cross country team. For some reason I wanted to be on a school team because I thought it would be cool to be a high school jock.

My first race was the Marshall County Cross Country Championship in Indiana. Since I didn’t know any better, I ran alongside the lead pack right from the start. After about a mile, I suddenly slowed down to a crawl, or so it seemed to me. I’m not sure where I placed, but I received a ribbon.

I have one run that I will never forget: I was running on some backwoods road in Camp Pendleton when I felt a presence running alongside me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a coyote. At first, I was startled, but I continued running as if this were normal. The coyote and I ran together for about five minutes before we went our separate ways. Well, enough stalling! I am now going out for my morning run.

DDR