Brown Coffee

  We all are different. Some people like coffee and some don’t. Even the ones that like coffee don’t like it the same way. I like my coffee with just the right amount of cream to turn it the right shade of brown, then sweetened with a packet of NutraSweet. As for the coffee itself, some people like a mild roast, at my house we drink tar strength, any stronger and you could stand a spoon in the deliciousness of our coffee. Jan and I drink from the same pot, but by the time that we are done mixing; we have two very different favored drinks. Jan likes hers strong, cream and sugar with whipped cream on top.

  There are many food items in my house that are cook and served three different ways. When Mash potatoes and gravy are served is a good sample. Jan uses butter or nothing at all. I make a lake in the middle of my potatoes to make room for the gravy. Leif likes the potatoes flat on the plate and covered in gravy. Darrel is another story; he falls in the category of not liking it at all, but remember that is the first difference I mentioned.

  Take rice, some people eat it with milk like cereal. Some like soy, sugar or even cucumbers. I like raisins and sugar in a milk bath. I have ate it will peaches, and berries of many kinds. It doesn’t make us strange, it just makes us different.
  Okay, if I haven’t lost you I am getting to a point, when I was 10 years old. My family vacationed in Windover, Utah. Well actually, my Brother Lee, and I vacationed in Utah, My parents spent most of the time in Windover, Nevada. You see the motel we stayed at was in Utah and the casinos were in Nevada.
Keep in mind that it was just blocks away from each other so don’t call CPS just yet. We weren’t allowed to leave the motel. It was hot and temperature of the room was even hotter. The pool was where we spent most of our time. When we weren’t swimming we were sitting around talking to total strangers. The scene if played out today would look like the opening of Criminal Minds and we would eventually end up in a ditch somewhere.
  The area around Windover is desert and flat for miles. It was hot as I said before but I do remember the air force base. The F14’s climbing high into the air disappearing from view. We sat there waiting for the next one when someone said they would be right back. They wanted a Soda.

  “A what?” I asked looking confused I‘m sure.
  “A soda,” she answered.
  “What is a soda?” I laughed. Back then we didn’t call them soda’s around where I lived, we called them pops or by their real name; Coke, Pepsi, etc.
  “I’m getting a Pepsi,” she answered.
  “Oh, you are getting a Cola,” answered someone else at the table.
  “No, a Pepsi,” she demanded.
  Somewhere the conversation started about how we say things different, one girl’s soda is another boy’s pop; one boys pop is someone else’s Popsicle. The conversation went on for hours. I even learned that a fag was a cigarette; which blew this 10 year old boy’s mind.
  “Really and your parents’ smoke fags?” I asked.
  “Yeah, mostly when they are getting pissed,” the tall one answered.
  “Whaaaat?” I asked.
  So we are all different, from a children’s chance meeting in a motel in the middle of no where to the spouse that sleeps next to you. The trick is to know acknowledge their differences and hand them the whip cream.