Saturday, February 18, 2012

Egg Coffee

My Aunt Rebecca, Becky or Beck depending on the day, the situation, or who was around, made the best coffee in the world. She was English, my Uncle Earl, as it turns out was primarily French. They were married for more than 50 years and were social kingpins in Marquette, MI. From time to time through the years my family, then when I married, my wife and kids would visit Aunt Beck and Uncle Earl. They were good folks.

Their lifestyle was very structured. My Uncle Earl owned Pendall's Drug Store in Marquette, he was a pharmacist. Aunt Becky ran the household. She played golf, she played bridge, and she and Uncle Earl enjoyed a full rich social life in Marquette. But oh could Becky make egg coffee.

When we ate dinner at their home Aunt Becky would ask as dinner was ending how many cups of coffee would each person enjoy after dinner. Then she would  disappear into the kitchen. When I was older I invited myself back to the kitchen to watch the preparation. The best I recall she mixed one tablespoon of coffee per cup into a well beaten egg mixture. Then she set it in a pot and it steeped. She used a fine tea strainer to keep the grounds out of the coffee and poured a deep amber liquid that made coffee an art form in her home.

I have been unable to repeat it. However, we have a French press coffee brewer and it looks like it would work in there. So, we shall see. In the meantime, whenever I have a good cup of coffee I think of my Aunt Becky, but it is never as good as her's was.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

An Embarrassment

I was maybe 13. There was a girl in our class named Sue T. She was a good looking girl, long dark hair, flashing eyes and all those things that go along with youth. It was easy to like her, she was easy on the eye and popular. However she was quiet and reserved, at least she seemed so. The way that boys and girls advertised they liked someone and were in a relationship was they put their initials on the paper notebooks we carried our homework in.

One day my initials showed up on her notebook. TF Wow, I could not believe my good fortune. One of the best looking girls in the class likes me. Whoa Nellie!!! I waited, I watched, more initials appeared. There was a Sue + Tom. I mean how much more evidence did I need. I did not know what to do. Should I talk with her, I was too shy. Should I ask one of her friends, I was too shy. Maybe the way to communicate was to respond in kind. So I wrote TF + ST on my notebook. Soon I had covered my notebook and fantasized about the blossoming love. Imagine kissing her, imagine holding hands with her, imagine walking together. That is about all we imagine at 13. I waited to see what would happen not knowing if I should approach her or what.

This lasted a few days, eventually a friend of hers who happened to be a friend of mine, Judy R. came to me and said, Tom, Sue doesn't like you, those initials are Ted. F. In embarrassment I blurted out those aren't her initials anyway, but there was no one in our class with those same initials. I could have crawled in a hole and stayed there. I have never felt so embarrassed in my life not even since.

I went back to school the next day with new notebooks. I tried not to look at her, and tried to make myself as small as possible, unfortunately I was already over six feet tall and stuck out like a sore thumb. One thing to my classmate's credit is I do not recall anyone making fun of me. You know at that age kids can be cruel. I don't recall any catcalls or teasing. My embarrassment was absolute though, I was crushed that I could assume such a thing and had nothing to fall back on.

That event still evokes a wry smile from me. Sue T. now F., did not come to our 40th reunion. I have not seen her since high school. I have no idea what she looks like, I believe she and Ted F got married but divorced.

I have never had an easy time around women. My lady experience is very small. I have a hard time talking to a women unless we talk about weather, some work aspect if we are familiar with it. It is easier for me to talk to a woman than a man but I have had very few female confidants. In fact, one. It seems like I am meant to muddle through our lives seeking my own answers and trying not to to embarrass myself or make a fool of myself. That is why I maintain a level of suspicion of others and distance from them..

That event so many years ago had an effect on me. Was it a game changer? No, I don't think so. I have had a few very good relationships with a few women, my first wife, my second wife, and a lady I worked with. I find comfort in sharing with a person, but you cannot share all things with just one person, you need a number of friends and while I talk very well with my two daughters, that is not the same. I'm there Dad after all.

So that's my ultimate embarrassing moment. I am 67, I hope I never have another.