I'll take mine black

I am sitting here enjoying a cup of strong black coffee. I’d like to say I am doing it in tribute to my late Grandmother who liked her coffee so black and thick and hot it could dissolve the very spoon you stirred it with. Or I’d like to say that I’ve finally found a java bean so complete it's best in its pure unpolluted form. The truth is I am drinking black because I am fat and the cream my tongue is crying out for isn’t helping. I know a few ounces of creamy goodness won’t equal much in the battle but it is probably the strongest reminder I can give myself that the war is underway. It will remind me to measure my portions, to “keep my head up and breathe through my nose” as I pass the pastry case (and the dairy case and the candy aisle and the ice cream section) - “Battle Hymn of the Republic” playing in my head (drowning out the screaming protests of my children) as I speed to the produce section. Quick SAT moment – Green Leafy Kale is to Sweet Milk Chocolate as…

You may ask what any of this has to do with the planned move to Paradise, Iowa. Laying aside the real truths that I am too flabby to enjoy what I want to do and that Sandi and I seem to do this yo-yo dance every few years, I will say that it relates to Iowa in shape. Hardscrabble New Englanders have sharp boned bodies and sparse hard edges on their salt-box houses. New Yorkers are beaten down by humanity into a mean and compact package designed to fit into tiny apartments and small seats on the subway. Even my fellow Coloradoans have a weird obsession with cycling and marathon running and vegetarian diets that keeps the boutiques in the Highlands stocked with sizes “2” and “4” and $200 men’s jeans in dimensions that qualify them as the world’s most costly Granimals (Jeans with a yellow label match the organic hemp shirts and berets with the same color label). Iowa is a little more rounded – Heck, half of their state's shape is loosely defined by a gentle undulating line. The Hawkeye people just like their food a bit more. They like a bit more meat on their bones for working and fighting off the cold. But I like the way a prairie square farmhouse has big shoulders easing down to a wide front that says “welcome” and the way a barn;s gambrel roof is round from a distance and sharp up close. I want to be ready and hard edged for the move. I want to have a starting shape that will allow me a bit more sweet corn and barbecue in my new home. For it is Iowa’s beauty and peace I am going for, and it’s pie I will celebrate with.


~ Jeff