What a Drag It Is Getting Old

I am thinking of investing in some publicly traded coffee stocks, or seeking to become the U.S. Ambassador to Costa Rica. Because I think I am personally supporting the demand side of the world’s coffee economy these days. I just can’t stay awake as late as I did 20 years ago.

As I mentioned in my last post, I spent Thursday night down in Rehoboth with Pete Schwartzkopf and some business owners unhappy about the legislature’s inaction on health insurance reform. What I didn’t mention was that on the way home, I began feeling kind of goofy around 11:00 and got off the road in Middletown for a large coffee and to collect myself. I also inserted a special CD in the car which is the drowsiness equivalent of breaking the glass on the fire extinguisher in a public building: it features some of the most headache inducing numbers that Led Zeppelin, The Who, the Rolling Stones, and others have produced over the years.

Friday night, Mrs. Denn and I persuaded my sister to babysit the boys, and we went out for a rare date night. We went to the Little Fish Grill near South Street in Philadelphia—our favorite Philly restaurant—and then we went over to the TLA to see Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. We got there at 9:30, when we figured the opening act would be wrapping up. They were just coming on. By 10:30, when Sharon Jones finally came on, we were struggling. At about 11:20, in spite of an awesome show from Ms. Jones that was only half over, our desire to have our children not raised as orphans took precedence, and—aided and abetted by two Little Fish coffees--we headed home. I have attached a YouTube link below for Sharon Jones, so you can see what you missed out on if you weren't at the TLA with us.

Finally, on Saturday night, Lenny and I headed down to Townsend for the 8th and 9th District Democratic Committees’ annual holiday party. This is always a great party—almost 100% turnout from the committee members, and just as importantly, the only holiday party to which Lenny is routinely invited. Stephanie Hansen and Chris Roberts have the party at their farm house, which means that Lenny can run around without his leash outside, and then come inside and mooch ham and roast beef off the buffet table from a number of pet-loving Democrats. Lenny and I hung around until near the end, and—stop me if this is getting familiar—I had to stop at the Rt. 13 Wawas for a 20 oz. coffee to keep me awake on the way home. I did not go the head-banging CD route—Lenny’s musical tastes run more along the Anita Baker line.

I am planning on kicking the caffeine habit in December, 2008. Until the election is over, I am counting on Roger Daltrey, Robert Plant, and the hard-working men and women of 24-hour coffee establishments up and down the state to get me home safely.