I Missed National Coffee Day???

So it turns out that Wednesday was National Coffee Day. Did I have to be the very last person on the planet to find this out?


It’s not as if I don’t drink my standard eleventy-three cups a day, yes, even in the heat of summer. I just love the stuff. Sue me.

It’s not even about the caffeine, because I’m strictly a decaf drinker, for a variety of reasons, most of which fall under the heading of “I’ll take boring topics for $600, Alex.” But the flavor of choice is hazelnut decaf, just in case you were going to send me a shipment for my birthday, which I believe you forgot, by the way.

Wow. I’m beginning to sound angry. I’m beginning to scare myself, and this is WITHOUT caffeine. Good thing I never touch the stuff, right?

So the only reason I even found out about National Coffee Day AT LAST, is that my small-h hero, Grammar Girl, Tweeted about the difference between “expresso” and “espresso”. In case you missed it, (bwah-hah-hah), “expresso” would be slang for “speedy”, and “espresso” is the coffee drink.

Now it’s possible that the whole reason I missed this non-event event Wednesday is that it was the birthday of three very important people: my stepson Jason (he had a great birthday), my stepdaughter Jaime (she had a great birthday) and my capital-H Personal Hero and Spiritual Guide, Gwen Ifill.

I haven’t heard from Gwen about her birthday, but she wasn’t on the Newshour that night, so let’s just hope it was a good time for Gwen, too. (She doesn’t write, she doesn’t call… go raise children…)

Anyhoo, I hope all you coffee lovers out there celebrated big time, and next year I’ll be on the alert for National Coffee Day. That way, when I go to bed the night before, and hang my IV bag of Mornin’ Joe on the pole, I can put a bow on it and feel festive.

P.S. I can't believe September's already over! Waaaah! Nothing says 'end-of-summer' more than this-- not Labor Day, not stashing the white shoes or purse, not back-to-school, not anything. Once you start writing 'October' on your checks, you know the whole season's gone... Ah, well... I'm just saying... Bring on the Halloween candy!

Tie One On (--but not that one!)

Okay, it has to be said. Jim Lehrer’s wearing the world’s worst ties. And yes, this qualifies as news.

If Walter Cronkite were still on the air (necrophiles, unite!) and he was wearing bunny ears it would still look better than Jim Lehrer’s ties.

Look, you know I’m a huge nerd, and a news junkie, and yes, I mostly watch the Newshour because Gwen Ifill is on it, but I’m really extremely fond of Jim. And until recently his appearance was just fine. Nice, even. Suddenly, he’s wearing the ties from hell.

Last night it was one that looked like a patchwork made from clown suits. (No offense to the clowns out there. You know who you are.) One night late last week it was something that looked like a bandanna-kind-of-thing; let’s just say there’s a picnic table somewhere that’s missing its tablecloth.

So is Jim’s wife out of the country or something? Or couldn’t Gwen, Judy Woodruff, Ray Suarez or Jeffrey Brown politely take him aside and cut the tie off just below the knot? Action must be taken! Someone on that program has to care enough to step in and perform the intervention. Anyone? Bueller?

How Powerful Am I?

I'm not one of those people who think that the universe revolves around me. In fact, pretty clearly, it revolves around my husband. I'm a mere planet in his orbit. Of course, I'm the planet who makes his meals, does his laundry, sends the greeting cards, talks to his parents, and sleeps by his side, but that's not important right now.

I'm saying that I know I'm a mere speck of dust in the cosmos, with no more significance than any other. And yet...

The first time I started a blog was June 12, 2008. The next day, one of America's beloved newsmen, Tim Russert died at age 58, totally unexpectedly. We news junkies freaked out. I kind of dropped the blog like a hot poker, but not because of Tim's death.

Here I am, a year+ later, and I'm all ready to start up a blog again, this time in earnest. (Ernest who, I'd rather not say.) Just as I'm getting ready to go, my personal hero Gwen Ifill (told you I was a nerd) informs me (and millions of other viewers of Washington Week) that Walter Cronkite has died. Gwen was visibly choked up-- the first of many iconic journalists to display that kind of gut response to the loss of 'Uncle Walter'.

When I got over the initial feeling of loss, and shared this with the C.O.T.U. (Center of the Universe), (no wonder he's called 'the Hub') I got to thinking about my almost-on-the-web blog, and the Tim Russert experience. Spooky, huh?

So, not that there's a cause and effect relationship here, and I know that I surely didn't want the world to lose either of these fine men, but what a coincidence...

Was some great Webmaster in the sky trying to tell me to keep away from the blogosphere? I sure hope not-- I just spent the past couple of months reading a dozen or so books about blogging. Wouldn't want that to go for naught. And my daughter and son, who've been urging me to do this for several years wouldn't be pleased at all.

So what to do? Well, I let the appropriate mourning period (assuming there is such a thing) for Uncle Walter pass, and I launched my little blog. Should I have warned Katie Couric, Jim Lehrer and Charlie Gibson? Naaah... I'm not that powerful.