In the relatively short life of my coffeehouse-pipe-dream’s inching itself towards reality, today was a pretty big day. After a promising meeting with some folks who know who and what I need to know, I went around to some of the newer coffeehouses in the city, to take pictures, check out their equipment, and test out the quality of their espresso. I ended my mass caffeinated sampling at one of my longtime favorites, not for their stellar espresso but for the comforting Victorian architecture with its spacious smoking decks, punk-rock-burned-out-hippy-patchouli-saturated-Santa-Cruz-at-its-weirdest/most-predictable patrons, and cheap local pints. Basically it’s just a great place to sit and write, tune out or listen in as the mood strikes you. Picked out a nook on the edge of a crowded deck, and as I began to compile my notes from the meeting, the thought struck how the crowd around me was just the kind I had originally pictured wanting to reach when first mulling around the idea a decade ago. But as I zeroed in on the closest conversation to me, a small bedraggled group of punkish tweens loitering on the other side of the latticed street corner, the absence of content to anything they were saying stirred up a doubt that there was much of anything to reach out to in such 21st century “rebels”. Moments after thinking this, one of the kids grabbed at a rosary around a girl’s neck, asking if she knew the prayers that are supposed to be said on its beads. “No,” she answered, “what, do you?” “Yeah, yeah, it’s, um, Hail Mary… Hail Mary full of grace… wait, what is it, I KNOW this…” After a few more stops and starts I bent towards them and prayed a Hail Mary out loud, with a good natured smile meeting their surprised sober attention, after which the kid power fisted me with a mile wide grin and said, “DOOOD, you just schooled me, that’s it!!!”
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
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