Deadlines Smedlines (Part I)

The deadline for the next portion of my thesis is (or was) today. I made a pretty good effort to meet it ... that is until one of my friends invited me to a local music festival. Yes, it’s quite irresponsible to go to a music festival the day a paper is due. And no, I never would have dreamed of doing such a thing in high school or even college. But in an effort to be at least a little responsible, I did set my alarm for 6 a.m. to finish before the festival.

I did wake up. I did not finish.

I left my friend at the festival about an hour ago. Now, I’m at the loneliest coffee shop in the world trying to pass the time and get a few lines (of my thesis, NOT my blog) written before going to a bar with another one of my friends.

The coffee man (this is an indie place, so he is definitely NOT a barista) has been watching the game with a sigh on his face. Then, when I wasn’t paying attention, he muted it and put on an old Stones CD. The words, “What a drag it is getting old” blasted at me, the aging only customer in the shop. The abrupt change in music had the effect of seeming like it was part of the game. But then it kept going with its creepy minor key and tales of yellow pills, even after the play ended. Classsic rock is normally annoying in the over-played way. But tonight, alone in this desolate, hot, sticky coffee shop, it sounds new again. And scary.

Perhaps I should have heeded the hand-written “CASH ONLY” signs that were never there before and hightailed it to the Starbucks across the street. Instead I pulled out all the cash I had, tossed three ones on the bar and said, “What can I get for two dollars? I wanna tip you one.” Coffee man filled up a mug of black coffee. And here I am, alone with my thesis, the game, and the oddly terrifying sounds of Mick Jagger.

The Way I See It #288

Regarding the feel-good flash-essays written on the side of Starbucks cups: Normally, they are just nothing statements, advancing the niche brand of warm-fuzzies capitalism. But today, mine was so earnest, so naively paradoxical that I couldn’t help but call attention to it. Reading the cup, I felt like Alice marveling at another Wonderland absurdity and looking for somebody else to agree that it’s crazy ... but she only has the Cheshire cat, who does nothing to confirm her sanity. Ok, here it is:

The Way I See It #288

“My cousin in Tibet is an illiterate subsistence farmer. By accident of birth, I was raised in the West and have a Ph.D. The task of our generation is to cut through the illusion that we inhabit separate worlds. Only then will we find the heart to rise to the daunting but urgent challenges of global disparity.” – Losang Rabgey, Ph.D. National Geographic Emerging Explorer and co-founder of Machik, a nonprofit helping communities on the Tibetan plateau.

It would be monstrous to disagree with the sentiment behind the statement on the cup. How can anybody not want children to hold hands in a circle around the world? But does it not seem completely ridiculous, absurd, insane to be trying to end global disparity on the side of a $5 cup of Venti Caffee Mocha with skim milk and whip cream? Do the suits at Starbucks not realize that if we replaced global disparity with global equality, nobody would be able to afford luxury coffee? (Don’t believe me? it’s already happening, check out this NY Times article about the rising price of grain.) Or maybe they do realize that, but are banking on the assurance that nobody else will.

American rates of consumption are already ecologically unsustainable, and it would be disastrous if they were multiplied by the rest of the human population. So any economic increase in poor countries will eventually mean a decrease in American wealth. And as we’ve already seen, the first thing to go is frivolous spending. It’s pretty funny to think of Starbucks writing its own demise on the side of its cups in such a cute font. Again, I’m not writing this blog to make a political statement. But we rich Westerners should think about whether we really would sacrifice our expensive coffee (among other luxuries) so that the rest of the world can have an improved standard of living. I’d like to think I’m that good of a person, but I don’t know if I am. On the contrary, I’m the jerk who actively fears that somebody in my family will need me to give them an organ. Cause I really really do not want to go through my life with only one kidney. Nor would I want to sentence a family member to a lifetime of dialysis.

Another thing, this essay works on the assumption that somehow it is better to be a Western doctor than a Tibetan sustenance farmer. And, since you’re reading my blog, you should be painfully aware by now how fatally wrong that assumption could be.

PS. For what it’s worth, the bottom of the cup comes with this disclaimer: “This is the author’s opinion, not necessarily that of Starbucks.”

Is Corporate Coffee Evil?

Starbucks Ordered to Pay Back Tips

By CHELSEA J. CARTER – 19 hours ago

SAN DIEGO (AP) — A Superior Court judge on Thursday ordered Starbucks Corp. to pay its California baristas more than $100 million in back tips and interest that the coffee chain paid to shift supervisors.

San Diego Superior Court Judge Patricia Cowett also issued an injunction that prevents Starbucks' shift supervisors from sharing in future tips, saying state law prohibits managers and supervisors from sharing in employee gratuities.

Starbucks spokeswoman Valerie O'Neil said the company planned an immediate appeal of the ruling, calling it "fundamentally unfair and beyond all common sense and reason." Read more, you procrastinator, you

An Open Letter to Cell Phone Guy

Congratulations on your baby boy, your upcoming golf tournament and the growth of your small business in spite of the slowing economy. But you are an inconsiderate, self-important jerk who talks too loud. You just mentioned how the weather is beautiful today, so please enjoy the sunshine and take your call outside. Defying physics, your voice carries over my headphones, which are turned to ear-damage loud. You tell your friend goodbye, I sigh a relief, but then you find 10 more minutes worth of things to talk about. I would like to ask you to keep it down, but I cannot do so politely. To set a good example, when my cell phone rings, I take the call outside. You do not pick up on this hint. Finally, I take my computer, my books, my papers and my tea and move to the other side of the room. And now, you decide it’s time to start pacing the Starbuck’s as you talk.

PLEASE SHUT UP!

Sincerely,

Miserable Graduate Student

THESIS PROGRESS: 28.45 of 40 pages written*
*That's only for chapter 3, the full thesis is much longer.

The Intrepid Journey to an Exotic, New Starbucks

As I promised yesterday, here is the true account of my coffee shop adventure:

There’s a Starbucks on the campus drag that gives 180 degree views of the hippies, hipsters and tourists. I normally never go to this one cause there's no parking. But in the name of anonymity, I hopped on my beach cruiser and placed my laptop in the basket.

The day was glorious, the sky was [insert your weather pattern here], and the students were back from spring break, clogging up the campus. The Veterans Against Iraq were setting up a table, but had to compete for attention with both the annual photo display of aborted fetuses and a counter-protesting wall of Planned Parenthood-ers. Presenting a united front against 10-foot tall dead babies, they chanted something that sounded like, “wieners for choice!” and handed out free rainbow condoms. I’m not writing this blog to make a political stance, but free is free and I’m unemployed (errr full-time student). I was able to take two condoms and toss them in my basket without getting off my bike or even slowing down.

Soon the campus proper gave way to the campus drag, and green-clad students gave way to green-clad revelers doing a 1pm St. Paddy's bar crawl.

The ghosts of the hippie movement still haunt the drag, but exist nowhere else in town. It's as if they were to leave the street they’d evaporate into the fine mist of history. Seeing my approach two such ghosts dug a box out of their belongings and set it out just for my (OK their) benefit. Now, I’m not writing this blog to make a political commentary on begging (these particular drag rats could easily have been two freshman on a break between classes), but I was feeling generous. So without getting off my bike or even slowing down, I reached into my basket and tossed them a Planned Parenthood rainbow condom. If this was a movie, it would have landed in their begging box, but they yelled, “thanks” anyway. Come to think of it, they looked like two straight dudes, so they probably won’t be able to share. I was a jerk not to give both away.

Once at my destination, I watched the whole green-tinted tableau from inside the safety of glass. Among other wonders, I saw one leprechaun, several kilted men, girls dangling green boas, and a plain clothes cop in wearing a muted green dress suit. He bought a small coffee. Other than that, one Starbucks is identical to any other, so my adventure ended once I walked inside.

Caramel Macchiwhato?

Since I've been spending so much time in no-internet land (Starbucks), I thought it was worth it to take a little trip to its Web site and find out exactly why my jeans no longer fit. I found my answer in an easy-to-read table format.

My favorite drink is surprisingly not too bad, ... actually, yes it is. 300 calories is a lot for a liquid (even for a "venti"). But on the bright side, 13 grams of protein is about as much as you get in some meats (don't ask me which ones, I'm not a food scientist). And one can always hope that 150 mg of caffeine will speed up the metabolism enough to ward off weight gain (though in my case I have found that to be a vain hope).

PS. The image is the official picture of a caramel macchiato from its Web site, but I've never once seen it served in a real mug like this. Do you have to request that?

Caramel Macchiato

A signature Starbucks® beverage. A creamy mix of vanilla and freshly steamed milk marked with intense Starbucks® espresso, topped with velvety foam and our own proprietary buttery caramel sauce.

		Serving Size 20 fl. oz. Amt Per Serving Calories 300 Fat Calories 70 Saturated Fat (g) 5 Trans Fat (g) 0 Cholesterol (mg) 35 Sodium (mg) 160 Total Carbohydrates (g) 43 Fiber (g) 0 Sugars (g) 39 Protein (g) 13 Vitamin A 15% Vitamin C 0% Calcium 45% Iron Caffeine (mg) 0% 150

THESIS PROGRESS: 21.90 of 40 pages written*
*That's only for chapter 3, the full thesis is much longer.

St. Paddy's Distraction

I fielded off three invitations to celebrate the green-beer holiday via text message from my study post at no-internet Starbucks. I forced my self to study until the barista forced me to leave and then went home to study more. Except that I couldn't get a parking space in front of my own house. I finally parked in front of the neighbor two houses down and then heard music blaring before I reached my door. After all my diligence, a St. Paddy's Day BBQ stood in my way. Now it's nearly 1 am, I have two days to write 20 pages, and I'm hopped up on coffee and vodka. Disaster. Even worse, my roommates' girlfriend and my neighbor discovered my blog and now they are making fun of me:
"So you're writing a blog about writing your thesis instead of actually writing your thesis?" they ask.
"Yes," I say.
"Ironic."

THESIS PROGRESS: 19.85 of 40 pages written*
*That's only for chapter 3, the full thesis is much longer.

Incognito Part II

I’m no longer anonymous at the local Starbucks. Nobody likes the weird guy who spends hours at “his” table, and if I keep a regular schedule, I risk "blowing my cover" as the top-secret writer of this blog. So today I embarked upon a journey to one of the seven other Starbucks that are in a 5-mile radius of my house.

**Update on the adventure of an exotic, new Starbucks coming soon.**

THESIS PROGRESS: 17.5 of 40 pages written*
*That's only for chapter 3, the full thesis is much longer.

Procrastination Station

5 Ways to procrastinate when you have escaped the Internet and handcuffed yourself to a Starbuck’s table:

1. Eavesdrop on the baristas’ conversation (Right now they are talking about how the song “Hallelujah” comes from the movie Shrek. It doesn’t, but it was featured on the soundtrack.)

2. Stare at coffee mugs. Wish wasn't unemployed & had $$ for frivolous purchases (Clearly $9 coffee mugs are frivolous, whereas $5 coffees in disposable cups are not)

3. Listen to the music. Really listen. Ponder which is favorite version of the song “Hallelujah”: Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright or the dumb kid who covered it on American Idol?

4. Turn off cell phone so as not to be distracted

5. Write this blog

THESIS PROGRESS: 6.5 of 40 pages written*
*That's only for chapter 3, the full thesis is much longer.