Coffeehouse Chronicles …and Hey, Rev, Watcha Got Cookin’ Over There?
- Marc & Bridget Saunders
- Aug 13
- 4 min read
Hey Chroniclers! Been a while, huh? Miss us? Got yer cup?
Whoops, so our Internet went dead the other day.
That's all bad. You know why? Because we as a society have become dependent upon it. Without the internet, we're totally crippled.
Admit this: the first thing you do when you get up in the morning is check your email. Whether on your phone or on your computer, that’s what you do. Your boss sent you a message he thinks is important the night before at 11:37, knowing good and well that at that time you were wearing fuzzy slippers, satin PJs, and were sipping on a glass of your favorite Chablis, prepping yourself for whatever nonsense was gonna happen the next day. Still, he’s up worrying about that report he’s responsible to his boss for and expects that you’re gonna read that email and have an answer for him by 7:01 the next day, even though you don’t punch the clock until 9.
Amiright?
Bottom line: no Internet, no emails.
That’s okay, you can turn on the TV to catch the traffic conditions and see how much traffic is on the 405 and how bad the crash is at the 60/57 interchange... oh wait, nope. You started streaming TV two years ago. You cannot stream without an internet connection.
No problem, you’ll catch up on your tablet or phone. However, you live in a valley and your phone service is dependent upon the Internet to boost the signal. Ya see where I’m going with this?
Don’t get me started on listening to some music. You guessed it, we stream XM.
We could read a book. Nope. Audible.
In the Coffeehouse, it looks like we're just gonna have to look at each other and talk.
That lasted about 73 seconds. The HB gave up and went into the kitchen to start her heart-healthy breakfast. And then I heard a loud wail.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”
I ran in, totally unsure of what I was going to find. “What’s wrong?”
“ALEXA SAID THAT I’M GOING TO DIE OF STARVATION!!!” The HB bawled, a huge snot bubble forming in her left nostril.
“That’s not what I said,” Alexa assured me from the counter.
“What did you say, Alexa?” I asked the machine, as if it were a real person I was having a conversation with.
“I said, ‘I’m sorry, Grams, without the internet, I’m unable to perform the timer function,” Alexa answered.
“IT’S THE SAME THING!!” The HB sobbed.
Yikes. Frontier, you’re gonna have to get your stuff together. I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to survive this.
Whew! Luckily, it was only down for about forty-five minutes.
— —
Well, we were due for a getaway, so we hooked up with our good friends, The Right Reverend Doctor Porter and his wife, the First Lady. Upon our arrival at the park, we found that The Right Rev had all of his cargo bays open, and it looked like a garage sale at his campsite.
“So what’s up, Rev?” I asked my very harried and sweaty friend.
“I think we have too much stuff.”
I nodded as I surveyed the carnage, and I counted nine —yes, NINE stoves and grills. My curiosity got the best of me, so I had to inquire. “Bro, nine grills?”
I know my buddy, and he has the food channel on lock. Every BBQ show that comes on, every BBQ competition that he hears about, he is a rapt spectator, sitting in front of his DVR with a notepad, pen, and a highlighter for the really important details.
The Right Rev started to break it down for me as he pointed at each one of his prized grills. All of them were polished to a high-gloss shine. His favorite one had a gold star affixed to it. “Well, this one does this… and if you want a certain char on the meat, you can’t use this one, you gotta use that one,” pointing across the way.
I have to admit that, as he was explaining it to me, my eyes started to glaze over, and all I began to hear was Charlie Brown’s teacher, "wah wah wah wah wah.“
I stopped him, “Bro, I think you need an intervention.” I vowed in my head that I was going to pull all the fellas together this week and take him to a meeting, except for Cmdr. McCroc, because he’s on the grill train too. The good news is that he’s down to three now; we’re making headway. The first step is admitting that you have a problem.
Oh well, I’m expecting the rest of the gang this afternoon, so I’m sure that the Chronicles will be flowing!
You know what to do! Drink ‘em if you got ‘em!
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