Campaign Contribution
I was at Maria's yesterday for the usual 2 hours of envelope stuffing. This is work that has the potential to be mind-numbingly boring but I look at it as a chance to improve my personal best. I enjoy figuring out the best way to organize the pieces so as to maximize output. And I'm pretty good. I can stuff 3 envelopes to someone else's 1. I can get a sheet of mailing labels onto "thank you" post cards in about 60 seconds. Plus I get a kick out of the atmosphere, all the earnest young kids and the wonky talk. But yesterday I made what was perhaps my most profound contribution to date.
A new staffer, Daniel, came into the conference room, asking how to make coffee. The interns who were present disavowed any knowledge of the process so I said, "Come with mama," took him to the kitchen and began to unfold to him the mysteries of the coffee maker. Which was all well and good until we got to the brand new tin of coffee and couldn’t find a can opener. Daniel said he’d look for one so I went back to my stuffing and labeling, telling him to come get me when he was ready.
A few minutes later an intern came in with Daniel behind her. The poor thing was wringing her hands, her eyes hollow with desperation. "I really need coffee," she said, her voice shaky with what seemed like impending tears. "I really need coffee and we can't find a can opener!"
I remember there is a Swiss army knife in the car and flinging a look of sympathy in the intern’s general direction I rush to the car and back. Within seconds I’m in the kitchen, wearing off my arm as I slice –up and down, up and down – through the (very large) lid with the barbarously simple (and not in a good way) can opener. Daniel, who I might add is quite the strapping youth, stood behind me saying, “Wow. Amazing.”
Finally, the scent of coffee (Trader Joe’s Fair Trade Nicaraguan, I believe) gushed forth, Daniel cheered and I proceeded to show him the correct ratio of coffee to water for the perfect pot o’ joe. And for the rest of the morning I was looked upon with unfettered admiration and appreciation.
Did you ever have one of those moments where all your life experience, all your abilities and all your passions converge in a perfect synthesis of sublime expression? I hope so, because there is really nothing so fabulous as standing, however briefly, in the warm, brightly lit knowledge of one’s raison d’etre.
A new staffer, Daniel, came into the conference room, asking how to make coffee. The interns who were present disavowed any knowledge of the process so I said, "Come with mama," took him to the kitchen and began to unfold to him the mysteries of the coffee maker. Which was all well and good until we got to the brand new tin of coffee and couldn’t find a can opener. Daniel said he’d look for one so I went back to my stuffing and labeling, telling him to come get me when he was ready.
A few minutes later an intern came in with Daniel behind her. The poor thing was wringing her hands, her eyes hollow with desperation. "I really need coffee," she said, her voice shaky with what seemed like impending tears. "I really need coffee and we can't find a can opener!"
I remember there is a Swiss army knife in the car and flinging a look of sympathy in the intern’s general direction I rush to the car and back. Within seconds I’m in the kitchen, wearing off my arm as I slice –up and down, up and down – through the (very large) lid with the barbarously simple (and not in a good way) can opener. Daniel, who I might add is quite the strapping youth, stood behind me saying, “Wow. Amazing.”
Finally, the scent of coffee (Trader Joe’s Fair Trade Nicaraguan, I believe) gushed forth, Daniel cheered and I proceeded to show him the correct ratio of coffee to water for the perfect pot o’ joe. And for the rest of the morning I was looked upon with unfettered admiration and appreciation.
Did you ever have one of those moments where all your life experience, all your abilities and all your passions converge in a perfect synthesis of sublime expression? I hope so, because there is really nothing so fabulous as standing, however briefly, in the warm, brightly lit knowledge of one’s raison d’etre.
cobbled together by Moi at 8:27 AM
5 Comments:
The ability to create the magical liquid known as coffee never ceases to amaze the youth, does it?
Hold the secret tightly, and you will go far. :)
Yes, I suspect that I will have a very important position in the tribe when it comes time to create the new order.
Attagirl.
Now, about this strapping young Democrat...
JP, I'll see what I can do.
Charlie, Perhaps ineptitude is your raison d'etre. You offer it sweetly to the world allowing everyone else to feel ept by comparison. Which takes tremendous strength & selflessness I should think. So yes, I think it counts.
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