To: the Guy at the coffee shop who presumed he could teach me how to make better coffee.
Besides the fact that you have not tasted my coffee, nor I yours, there is another matter about your presumptuousness that
- I have something to learn about making coffee, and
- You are the one to teach me.
What if we don’t like our coffee the same way? Do you mean to imply that there is some objective standard for what counts as good coffee?
If so, my good friend from Colombia would take issue with almost everything that passed for “good” coffee in the US.
If so, why can Whataburger and other places still sell so much coffee that is watery and has been sitting on a hotplate for 3+ hours?
There must be some thing, or some things about the qualifier “good,” as it relates to coffee, that leaves it, to a varying degree, to the taste buds of the one drinking the coffee.
For those of you afraid (or convinced) I am about to pop proof of the absolutely relative nature of life into this analogy and throw my hands in the air spiritually and say we’ve all got our own path or some such rot, please stay with me.
What this analogy means, rather, is that taste is like one’s spiritual life. It is never so simple as can be assessed, defined, and prescribed flippantly based on less than one minute’s conversation.
Now, please excuse me; I am off to drink coffee with some friends.