The Java Jive

The First of April Two Thousand and Fourteen. Tuesday.

When did I become a coffee addict? It wasn't that long ago that I was saying I was back on the tea, but the stuff I've been drinking recently (PG Tips for the record) isn't really doing it for me. And yet I've stuck to it for the most part as I've overdone it somewhat with the coffee recently.

A few weeks ago I was on a late shift at work so I would spend my mornings downing a cafetiere of coffee and enjoying a couple of bagels while watching Game of Thrones. Yes, I've only recently got on that particular bandwagon and for the most part I am enjoying it. I did literally spit out a mouthful of sesame, Philadelphia and proprietary brand Marmite substitute when a horse got decapitated, but other than that it has been very entertaining. Never been much of a connoisseur so my coffee of choice was Sainsbury's half-caff, which might be a bit gimmicky, but I like the way Sainsbury's have a wire strip thing that makes it easy to reseal your packet.

I used to scratch my head trying to figure out how they managed to take out only half of the caffeine. Did they stop the process half way through? Did they take decaffeinated coffee and add some of it back? I had to actually read the label before I realised what actually  went on. The obvious does escape me with alarming regularity.

Add to this all the instant coffee I drink at work. Drinks often go cold as we busily serve the Great British Public with all their ticketing needs so when a fresh brew is on offer I tend to neck the cold dregs and start the process all over again with a full mug. And the week just buzzes along quite merrily until circumstances change and then the crash occurs.

Last Saturday I attended a Family Sign Language day at our local children's centre. Dehydration from various central heatings, plus squinting through my glasses for a couple of hours at the signed presentation, plus a sudden removal of caffeine after a couple of weeks of submersion all conspired to give me the mother of all headaches. Forgive my imperfect understanding of biochemistry, but as I understand it it's the dehydrated body's demand for various chemicals that it nicks from the brain that causes the pain. I'd heard that the potassium et al in bananas could help to mitigate this, but all I had on hand was an apple so I gave that a go instead.

It's fair to say that my body took on some of the qualities of an exciting FA Cup tie - that is to say it opened up at both ends. The pain made me nauseous and an acidic apple didn't help either. After the family signing day I was lucky enough that my pre-ex-mother-in-law could look after Number 2 son for a short while enabling me to get some rest. When she finally delivered her charge to my pale, washed-out visage she was suitably taken aback by my corpse-like appearance that she even offered to stay overnight (at the big house, not my modest flat) to look after her grandson. It was a very kind offer, but I knew the symptoms of my 'caffeine hangover' wouldn't last too long. I returned to my bed, placing a fiver in Number 1 son's hand telling him to sort out chips for tea for him and his brother. This he did, sorting out teatime nicely, only falling down when trying to coax the DVD player to work. I am proud to say that even in my absence, the boys attempted to watch Doctor Who with their chips.

I haven't touched proper coffee since. I really don't want to go through all that again. But...

The tea isn't really doing it. I would kill for a really nice mug of coffee (the best coffee I've ever tasted was from D'aiuto's bakery in New York - home of the Baby Watson cheesecake. And I've just googled it to find it closed last year. Rotten 'eck.). I never used to like coffee. The tide turned with a combination of Twin Peaks and my Then Girlfriend's love of black coffee. Tea is the English eccentric's drink of choice, to the point where it's become something of a cliché now (although I do like an Earl Grey with me cheesecake). One of the many genius things Russell T Davies does when reintroducing the world to Doctor Who in that first episode just about nine years ago is have the Doctor ask Rose for a cup of coffee. He already travels in time and has two hearts - he doesn't need any tawdry quirks (cf with him messing with a deck of cards). Love that episode.

I've been knackered all week too. The weather's getting nice now. Maybe it'll be ok to ease back in with a frappuccino...

Maybe.

More soonliest.

Happy St Zosimus Day!

The Nineteenth of June Two Thousand and Eleven. Sunday.


That's St Zosimus the martyr who was executed in AD110 not one of the other St Zosimuses (yes, there really is more than one St Zosimus!).

Lapsed Catholic that I am (I never practised, although I was baptised as a baby - perhaps 'lapsed' is overstating the case) I'm afraid I don't really have much time for the Zosimuses. I saw a car with a Darwin Fish on it the other day and I was going to namecheck that symbol here until my internet investigations threw up an even more amazing icon for atheism - The Flying Spaghetti Monster

Yes, Pastafarianism has been doing the rounds for a few years now, but I'd never heard of it. It does suffer from that smugness that a lot of atheist satires of religion tend to possess but unlike some religious doctrines that can be equally smug this does make points that can actually be proved in fact. And they do have Talk Like a Pirate Day as a holiday so that's in their favour.

See how easy it is to get distracted. That small wander through the gardens of controvesy was entirely caused by me wanting to obliquely get on to what some of us are celebrating today, namely Father's Day. I'm afraid I didn't send my own father a card, but I did phone him only to interrupt his viewing of the US Open golf so it was a very hurried conversation.

Back in 1999 I decided to have a go at this fatherhood lark myself. By and large I haven't done too badly - two offspring who still seem to enjoy my company despite living apart giving them an easy opt out if they ever decided they had better things to do. At 11 and 3 years of age I'm immensely proud of both of them and despite all the anxieties that understandably go with any parenting, lately I've been happy with what my role in their lives has been and I'm worrying less about what I may or may not be doing and just enjoying their company.

So was any of that reflected in how we spent Father's Day? Well, it's been a tiring week so I'd pretty much resigned myself to this being a fairly low-key weekend. We spent most of the time watching telly or on the computer with the odd walk here and there ('there' yesterday being the Harbour Bar for ice cream. No2 son didn't realise at first that the toddler cone his ice cream came in was edible. Upon finishing, he handed it to his servant for disposal as is his way only for me to sign back to him that he could eat it. Cue an experimental nibble followed by contented munching).

It was as we set off for a stroll today that No 1 son found an envelope in his pocket and handed it over to me. Turns out it was a card from No 2 that he made at nursery - the words on it completely obliterated by green paint. No 1 then mentioned that his mum had given him five quid to get something for dad but he had forgotten about it until now. When a few minutes later I lamented that I had forgotten to get cheese for the pasta we were having for tea he suggested getting me some for a Father's Day gift. So that is what I received: a block each of Red Leicester and Double Gloucester. And when we got back to the flat and No 2 saw the card that I had opened he quickly declared 'mine!' and asked for it back...

I've really enjoyed today. I said earlier that I've been relaxed in the boys' company, but I do still worry it's a bit boring sometimes. So it brought a smile to my face when I took the boys back home to see No2 enthusiastically regale mum with tales of dragons and witches and daleks in what he calls 'old Doctor Who'. And No 1 son? I was just pleased he didn't think getting his dad a present was too cheesy...

More soonliest.

Like That Ben Stiller Film... Only Earlier

The Thirty-First of May Two Thousand and Eleven

Earl Grey and cheesecake at Caffé Nero a nice pause in the day before a spot of musical theatre - with puppets (can you guess what I'm going to see?) (Tea at a coffee place always seems like a treat. Mind you in Shanghai it felt a bit cheeky doing the 'Earl Grey - hot!' thang in a city filled with so many gorgeous local teas (end of globe trotting name drop))

And what a lovely day it's been, finishing off my extended Bank Holiday nicely. Went to the East Lancs Railway in Bury with 2 sons and 2 parents and saw a bit of steam (enthusiastic thumbs up from no 2 son as engine whooshed noisily). The plan was to pop to the Transport Museum over the road afterward. But horror! - we notice a poster saying the museum's only open Weds to Sun. Hoping that this might be overruled with it being half term we visit any way and are heartened as we see someone coming out. We enter and the very nice lady on tickets says they should be closed at she opened for one person - and then someone else came - and then we came. She had to switch the lights back on. But we had a great time, dressing up and enjoying the exhibits with no-one else there - our own private viewing. Felt like a celeb.

We'd been locked in so the nice museum lady had to let us out. My thanks to her for helping to make a good day.

Right, back tomorrow so the recommendations and more stream of consciousness stuff will return then.

More soonliest.