Not My Cup of Tea

I have a feeling the original literal nature of this phrase is likely now a little more dated than all of us would like to think. Maybe some of us more than others. Personally, I love tea. Not just plain-as-plain tea used for brewing the native beverage of the South, either. (For a discourse on my capitalization of things such as earth and South back and forth in different contexts, see "Arbitrarily Pre-Purposed Post #001.") Black teas, white teas, florals, blends, infusions, all sorts. And no, you don't have to see out the confines of establishments such as Starbucks Coffee to get a good cup of tea. Often times that is a step too far. As far as you really ever need go is your local grocery store. If you are very, very lucky in life, you might not have to go any farther than your backyard. But I digress, (as often).

Tazo, the brand of the teas you would enjoy upon visiting a Starbucks Coffee location, invites brewers to "steep [their bags] for 5 minutes while contemplating your favorite eternal mysteries." Then, enjoy. I've come, even if stereotypically, to know a good cup of tea as a gateway into definite relaxation. Something can be said for the physically therapeutic effects of a hot beverage, but I've time and time again enjoyed the same experience at the rim of a cup of iced tea. Once again, that is not thanks only to my Southern heritage. Yet let me note, most obviously, that a cup of tea is not every person's cup of tea.

I have come to be something of a coffee man as well. That I can neither doubt nor deny. I have not concluded whether the dark, often harsh brew of those tiny black beans from across the globe can draw out quite the same ends in me which can teas. A good cup of coffee is wonderful. Again, don't be sucked into thinking any monster the likes of Krispy Kreme, Dunkin Donuts, Starbucks Coffee, or even McDonald's is a necessary evil to face to get a worthwhile mug-full. Look everywhere. Look in your churches and your offices. Look in your own kitchen.

What entrances me most about these drinks is not the brews, nor the potencies, nor the flavors therein, but rather the intrinsic, hidden quality I have begun to showcase this whole talk through. Their powers to unwind. To comfort. to familiarize, ice-break, or uninhibit. To whisk away. To bring tumbling back. You know, that vision that every coffeehouse lounge has for its patrons, but all too often falls short of for lack of person, lack of mood, or perhaps most certainly, lack of drink. Not everyone can dig on a coffee or a tea.

An ice-cold Coca-Cola Classic out of a glass bottle. A Yuengling Lager from that signature green bottle. A styrofoam cup filled with plain tap water. A far too ornately decorated glass filled to the brim with Luzianne tea, brewed in the sun, sweetened. A ceramic mug steeping a short white tea, with a sprig of mint floating around at the top. A sleeved paper cup of freshly-brewed coffee berthed of twice-roasted South American beans, with room for something that will never be, because you take it black but you like it that way.

Everyone has their cup of tea.

You know in "Back to the Future Part II," when Marty and Doc end up back back in 1955, and the Doc pulls out a suitcase full of money from every decade or so that he might ever find himself in? From some reason, this sticks with me. It was all for being prepared.

What I want is a briefcase with whomever's cup of tea I need at any given time right inside. Whatever you need to get to that point of zen, of calm, of passion. I've got it.

My name is Daniel Joseph Plainview Florence. I am a drink man.

You drink your cup of tea. You drink it up!